Cinnamon

After I posted  my last blog, I shared the link on my Facebook, with the status "I live to surprise people! Just posted my second blog this month - I even surprised myself!"  Welllllll, as much as I love surprises, I often have a hard time keeping the secret and waiting to reveal the surprise.  Sooo, I am extra pleased with myself tonight, because in addition to keeping a secret for almost a week; I'm actually writing a my third blog of the month!

And here we go...  We got our beloved Chihuahua, Hershey from my brother-in-law in Puerto Vallarta when she was just three months old, and she's now nine.  (At this point you may want to check out The Tale of the Dog and then come back...) My kids and I are ridiculous when it comes to Hershey, and some may say (ok, have said) that we are obsessed, lol but we don't care; we just adore her.  We think that she's so cute, and so smart and she makes us so happy; but one of us has never felt as loved by Hershey and has been asking for quite some time to get a dog of her own. Typically when Kelsie would broach the subject, we'd remind her that Hershey doesn't think that she's a dog and doesn't like to be around other dogs; and although she knew this all to be true, she's still just 14 and she wanted a dog that would appreciate her. A dog like Copper...   A couple of years ago we met our friend April's rescue Chihuahua, Copper.  His temperament couldn't have been more opposite of Hershey's. He was friendly to everyone and snuggly, he was tiny and just a mush. And honestly when each of us held him, we were overcome with a sense of calm and happiness.  While Hershey emotes the same feelings from us, she's still really unpredictable and only lets you pet and love on her when she's in the mood, so experiencing a dog that was so sweet and lovable all the time, added to Kelsie's desire for a new dog.

Despite our love and affection for Hershey, Lyndzi, Kelsie and I would frequently talk about how great it would be to have a dog like Copper.  I don't know if it's because Hershey's getting older and every time she sighs, or makes an uncustomary sound, they think that something's wrong with her, and Google what these "symptoms" mean, or if they are just ready for some unconditional puppy love.

I suppose it didn't help that Luis (who has never been on board with getting another dog), recently started regaling us with tales of the cute dogs that he'd see when he was out at work.  To add insult to injury, he started taking videos of stray dogs and then he'd show them to us at dinner; which of course prompted the girls to ask him to bring home the next cute, small, girl dog that he found.  Surprisingly enough, Luis humored their request, and told us that he'd be on the look out.  I discussed this new development with Luis, because the girls were taking him seriously, and I kinda feared that he may accidentally kidnap someone's dog.  We were concerned that he could bring home a pooch that was sick and then of course there was the cost of shots etc; so last Saturday, when the girls and I saw what could possibly have been an Adopt A Dog sign outside Pet Co. we had to go check it out.

As it turned out the sign was for vaccinations; so I told the girls that we could go down the street and swing by PetSmart.  On our drive there, Kelsie asked if we got a black Chihuahua if we could name her Pepper.  I wasn't opposed to that name, but Lyndzi wasn't digging it.  I asked her to Google some dog names and as she read from the list, the one that I liked best was Minnie.  No one shot it down, so I figured this name could be a contender for our fictional dog.  We arrived at PetSmart and as luck would have it, America's Freedom Paws Rescue was stationed outside the store.  They only had two dogs with them, and they were bigger, so we weren't interested; but just as we'd arrived, a lady walked up with a Chihuahua.  Kelsie said "what about that one?"  But I was under the impression that the dog she was referring to was a pet and not part of the adoption.  We went into the store and when we came out, we had the pleasure of meeting Cinnamon, who was in fact a rescued Chihuahua.

When the ladies described her, they said she loved to snuggle, sit on your lap and sleep with you; and the girls (all 3 of us) melted.  We couldn't help but think that she was EXACTLY what we'd been dreaming of.  She's two years old, but she's small.  She weighs about four lbs, and she's super affectionate.  Could you say no to this???Well I couldn't!  I asked the ladies what we would need to do to adopt Cinnamon, and it really couldn't have been easier.  I just had to fill out a short application, pay $125 (which I thought was a steal since she had all of her vaccinations and had been spayed)  and they'd give us her collar, harness, leash, food and water bowls and a brand new bag of food. They also said that we could have a three day trial period, so if we needed to return her because Hershey couldn't adapt, then at least we could get our money back.  I called Luis, to tell him about Cinnamon and see what he thought about us adopting her and thankfully, he had no objections to us bringing her home.   To say that we fell in love with Cinnamon instantly would be an understatement.  I don't think that any of us could have left PetSmart without her; so I told the ladies that we had to take her.  The ladies were delighted and while I was completing the paper work, they mentioned that we should feel free to change her name if we wanted to.

Now I'm a big believer in signs from the universe.  Some people may just find things to be coincidental; and I get that, but other times, when things align perfectly and in more than one way, I can't help but feel that it's cosmic intervention and I enjoy that.  The girls and I couldn't get over our luck. (After all, it was St. Patrick's day!) We felt as if we had found the dog that we custom ordered.  She was small, and affectionate, and snuggly and mushy and oh so sweet; not to mention her name.  We had just talked about naming a dog Minnie, and here was Cinnamon (Cinn-a-min)  Minnie for short?  Or as it turns out "Cinnie" and/or  Cinna-minnie.

We were concerned about introducing Cinnie to Hershey, but we took the advice of  America's Freedom Paws and took the dogs for a walk. The girls slowly let them get close to each other and then brought them both into the house without incident.  Hershey didn't seem to mind Cinnamon being in the house, until she saw her being affectionate with Kelsie; but we've been doing a lot of Googling, and trying to do what's best for both dogs and suffice it to say, so far so good.  We've been able to leave the fur babies home alone together, and  they've gotten along fine. And even at this moment as I'm typing, I have both pups on either side of me, they're fast asleep and I'm in heaven.

Kelsie and Cinnie immediately bonded and it's so great to see Kelsie's wish fulfilled.

Cinnamon is just precious!  She's pure love!
She's such a great addition to our family, and it's truly amazing how much kids can learn from having pets.  I remember, shortly before Lyndzi was born, I thought to myself (while she was created in love, and I can't wait to have her here, I also can't imagine loving someone as much as I love Nicky.}  It wasn't that I doubted that I would love her, it was just difficult to comprehend the capacity that I had for love.  Of course the moment she was in my arms, I learned that my capacity for love doubled, and then tripled with Kelsie; but my girls already knew that, because Kelsie explained to Hershey that we wouldn't love her any less because Cinnamon was here; we would just love them both. How fantastic and true is that? 

I had planned to share the news of Cinnamon's arrival, once the three day trial had passed, (even though I never had any doubt that she'd be staying with us permanently); but as circumstance would have it, my story was delayed.  Nonetheless, I think it worked out perfectly because now I get to share this story with you on National Puppy Day, (which I actually didn't even know it was, until I saw it this morning on Facebook) - Thank you universe!

Enjoy the pics of our little treasure.

Till next time,
Paige
XO

This Is What You Raised Them For...

Saying time flies is a frequently used idiom; but there's a reason for that - it truly does!  In fact, the older my kids get the quicker time seems to pass; which is why those Riders who I don't know personally, may be surprised to hear that my son, Nicky is now almost 19 years old and a Freshman in college.  For those who are my Facebook friends, this should be less surprising, though probably not less believable.  As his Momma, it feels like just yesterday that he was born.  For years I both dreamed about. yet dreaded the day that I would move him to college; but I'm here to tell ya, it's a fulfilling experience and one that gave me great satisfaction and joy.  If I cried at all, they were happy tears, FOR my son; and not tears of sadness for me.

Nicky and I have always been very close, so the expectation (both mine and my clan's) was that I would fall apart upon his departure; but amazingly enough, the opposite was true.  
We moved Nicky down to the University of Arizona on a Saturday, because he was going to participate in Bear Down Camp a week before the other students arrived.  Since UA is only two hours from our home, our plan was to move him in and come home; and then go back with our girls the next day, since we had to attend a brunch with Nicky as part of the camp. 
I thought that I'd be very emotional when I left him that first night; but I think that knowing I'd see him the next day, made it easier to leave without incident.  We went back Sunday morning and although I got teary a few times during the brunch, I can honestly say that it wasn't because I thought it would be difficult to be apart; but because I was so happy to see what Nicky was going to be a part of.  I was so proud of all that he had accomplished to get him to this point and I was very excited for him.  Don't get me wrong, I must have hugged him a million times, (and not little short hugs) because part of me didn't think I could let go; but I managed to say goodbye without crying, and as much as I miss having him home, I haven't shed a tear.

My close friends were good to check on me often during Nicky's first few days at school.  They asked how I was doing, and while I'm not sure that my response surprised them, it pleasantly surprised me. You see, Nicky was able to text me while he was at camp (in Prescott), but I didn't talk to him until 4 days later, when he was back on campus.  The first time that we spoke on the phone, it was if my son had come alive.  He was talkative and animated.  I could hear the smile on his face in the way that he spoke.  He asked me questions and told me about his experiences, and I felt incredibly gratified.  As the week went on, and he participated in welcome activities and went to his first classes, it was obvious that he was exactly where he was meant to be and that he was doing all that we had raised him to do.  So how could I be sad about that? 

It's so hard to believe that Nicky will be done with his first year of college in just two months.  He had a fantastic first semester, earning a 4.0 at the College of Engineering.  He's taking his first computer programming class this semester and will be declaring his major as Electrical / Computer Engineering, with a concentration in Computer Engineering.  He DJ's a weekly radio show, and he attends shabbat services at Hillel.  He's made some good friends and he's actively looking for additional clubs to join; so what more could a Momma want?

I couldn't be more thrilled for Nicky.  I enjoy hearing from him daily. I always look forward to the next time that I'm going to see him; and I guarantee that all of you Momma's who will be sending kids off to college soon, will feel the same.  Just remember my words "THIS is what you raised them for."   You raised them to go out into the world and make it a better place.  You raised them to go out into the world and make their dreams come true. To go out into the world and learn who they are, apart from you; and then one day they'll come back and while they'll still be your baby, they'll be their own person.

Till next time,
Paige 

44!

Today I am 44, and other then when I said "I do" to Luis, or "Hi, I'm your Mama" for the first time to Nicky, then  Lyndzi, then Kelsie - there have been never been words that I wanted to say more. 

When I posted "100 Random Things About Me"  # 14 was "My parents and paternal Grandfather all died at the age of 43 and that WON'T be me."  I firmly believed that when I wrote it, and so upon my 43rd birthday I decided to challenge myself and write my blog every day for the year plus my 44th birthday.  I liked the idea of taking the opportunity to make something terrific out of something terrifying; and, if you've been following me for a while, then you know that last night "I Did It" and I wrote the final post of my 43rd year.

So here we are; I'm sure that you're wondering what more I could possibly have to say after 365 consecutive posts; but you knowme,  I'm a giver and I like to spread my happiness so I had to come back and celebrate my victory with you.

I've received more well wishes and congratulations for my birthday and my blog, than I could have ever imagined and I feel truly blessed.  So in honor of my birthday, I've decided that I'm going to give a gift to one lucky rider.  Yes, for the first time EVER on "The Bumpy Ride", I'm doin a giveaway and I hope that you will all participate and SPREAD THE WORD!

You may recall that when I posted "ASPIRE" I told you that my incredibly, talented friend Mari had been making what I called "inspiration charms", and she graciously offered to make me one and ASPIRE was my word.  Well Mari's thoughtfulness and generosity didn't end there, because she has now donated one of her beautiful necklaces.for me to give as a gift to one of you.  Mari asked me to select the word for the necklace and I chose one that I feel encompasses the message that I've been trying to impart throughout "The Bumpy Ride" - BELIEVE!  

Yes my friends, this stunning, handmade, original necklace can be yours, if you leave me a comment.  Now being that I am the Queen of FOLLOWING THE RULES , ya gotta know that there are a couple, so here we go:

1.   In order to win you must follow "The Bumpy Ride" so if you're not already signed up; please do so, because I would hate for you to miss this fabulous opportunity.

2.  Leave your comment with the name of your three favorite posts (BUT they can't be any that were mentioned in this blog.)

3.  Because I know that it will take a while to meander around my previous posts, the deadline for comments will be August 5.  Take your time, look around, read an old favorite or try something that you may have missed.  

New riders are absolutely eligible to win as long as they sign up to follow, so in the interest of (say it with me) the GREATER GOOD; please make sure to to refer your friends to "The Bumpy Ride."

I'm really excited about giving this gift away, and ALL that this new year has in store for me.  Lyndzi and I will be taking the red eye to New York tonight and I can't wait to come back and share all of my Big Apple adventures and reunions with you.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-365) I Did It!

In honor of this auspicious occasion, I can think of nothing more appropriate than to quote Dora the explorer and say "I did it, I did it, I did it - HURRAY!  Ya I did it!" I know that Dora says "we" not "I", but my monkey sidekick had nothing to do with writing "The Bumpy Ride" for 365 consecutive days, so I hope you'll permit me some creative license on that one.

When I wrote "43" on July 28, 2010, I said that I was committing to write EVERY day for a year PLUS my 44th birthday, so in fact my journey is not quite over; but I think that since this is the last night of my 43rd year it's appropriate for me to review all that I've learned during this excruciating endeavor so that tomorrow I can make a fresh start on a brand new year and the rest of my life. 

To quote myself in "43", "I believe this needs to be a year of recollection, reflection, observation, appreciation, and change; and I plan to do this right before your very eyes."  And, I'm delighted to say that I believe I have.  I've taken you on many walks down my memory lane.  Some strolls were happy and amusing while others were painful and heartbreaking.  I told you "My real life love story", and many, many tales of trial and tribulation.  I got definitions published in "The Urban Dictionary" and entered and lost my first essay contest.  I've written about fear, courage, optimism, perseverance, grief, empathy, sympathy and laughter.  I've shared quotes and songs from various genres, and demonstrated my prowess at Six degrees of Kevin Bacon.  I reported on a season each of soccer and swim team, enlisted your assistance with an art contest and battled an Art Nazi!  I've had thrills and spills, a number of firsts, and made several discoveries.  I found and fell in love with my cousin Jackie, I got three new jobs,  I renewed friendships, strengthened friendships and ended friendships.  I've taken chances and advocated for myself like I never have before.  I gave support, advice, and of course, recommendations for the (say it with me) GREATER GOOD!  And I truly couldn't be more proud of myself than I am right now.

When I wrote "Five Hundred" I mentioned that writing "The Bumpy Ride" every day for this year had been both a blessing and a curse.  I didn't elaborate on the negative; because ya know I like to accentuate the positive.  Yet I will admit that this challenge was far more taxing than I ever imagined.  The truth is that I usually give more though to what I'm gonna have for dinner than I did to what a big (yes) HUGE undertaking a daily commitment would be.  No matter how physically or emotionally tired I was - I had to write.  No matter what fun activity was awaiting me - I had to write.  No matter my location -I had to write.  And so with pad in hand I wrote as night fell upon the drive in.  I typed in a word document at the lake, in Laughlin, and while camping. Then I had to go find a public place with wi-fi so that I could capture the perfect picture to accompany the post and publish it.  I wrote from Las Vegas, and California (twice), not to mention having to get up extra early so that I could publish a post before spending the day in Disneyland.  Each blog took anywhere from half an hour to five to write.  And the award for the blog that took the longest to author, goes to "The Hostess With The Mostess", which I wrote while attending the best crop EVER at Mari's hobby  house.  Now don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining at all.  For me the pros definitely outweighed the cons AND now that I know for certain that I really can commit to doing something EVERY day; I'm gonna get my butt back to the gym, so that (hopefully) this time next year, I'll be able to report that I finally lost the hundred pounds that I've been talking about FOREVER.

If I've learned anything this year, it's this: First, I can do ANYTHING that I set my mind too.  Second, if you want to change your circumstances YOU can.  Third, you are only as limited as you allow yourself to be.  And fourth, to quote RuPaul  "What other people think of me is not my business."   

Once again I  want to thank everyone who has joined me on "The Bumpy Ride" this year and I implore you to keep coming back for more.  Even though this is the end of my year, it is really only the beginning.  I am so looking forward to sharing "44" with you tomorrow, so please make sure to stop by, as I'll be revealing  a very special surprise.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-363) Five Hundred

As the "43" series and my 43rd year are soon coming to an end, I'm reaching all kinds of milestones.  For instance, tonight's post is entitled "Five Hundred" as this is my 500th all time post on "The Bumpy Ride"!!  It hardly seems possible to me, but when you take into consideration that tonight's post is also my three hundred sixty third consecutive blog; it's not so difficult to understand how I arrived here.

I remember deciding to take a stab at writing a blog like it was yesterday.  I'd been having such a great time spewing my opinions about the Oscars and the fashions, that when Michelle M suggested that I write a blog, I thought I'd give it a shot.  Even though quitting's not my nature, I almost threw in the towel when I found out that I had to create  a title, a sign off name, and commit to what I was going to write about, because the tasks seemed so daunting.  But in no time at all - I knew.  To call my blog "The Bumpy Ride" only seemed natural, since I really do write like I talk -which is one of the reasons that (as you may have noticed),  my punctuation isn't usually correct.  This in and of itself makes for a bumpy journey - I know; but the name also derived from my storytelling style - which to this day I think fits it perfectly.  As for the subject matter, I've stuck to what I know.  My real life (bizarre as it is sometimes), pop culture,  and my observations about anything and EVERYTHING.  

Over time, "The Ride" has evolved into recommendations for (say it with me) "THE GREATER GOOD", and life lessons as I learn them.  In 500 posts I have yet to figure out why, although I'm so self-conscious, fear ridicule AND criticism; I never hesitate to share my most embarrassing moments, and my frequent faux pas with you.

From moment one, I explained that I wanted to become a professional writer, and even though I still may be a long way off from that ever happening; I feel like if even in a very small way, my stories have somehow made a difference.

The "43 " series has been the brunt of my 500 posts and deciding to write is has been both a blessing and a curse.  I've chronicled the year that theoretically could have been my last.  I was distracted, I was observant and I didn't miss a minute.  I documented my life past, and present and now have a testament to everything that I thought and did this year; which if nothing else, will be something that my children will be able to remember me by when I'm gone (a long, long time from now.) So yes, ultimately I truly do believe that it was a small price to pay for  the inconveniences.

My hope is that one day 500 will be the number of followers that I have, or the number of lives that I've positively impacted, or the number of dollars that I'm being paid for an article or to speak publicly.

I owe a debt of gratitude to everyone who has encouraged and supported me throughout my 500 posts.  Thank you to anyone who's shared my link, left a comment, or took the time to read.  I look forward to getting started on the next 500.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-361) DJ Louie V

If you've been riding for a few months, then you may be interested to know that tonight was DJ Louie V's debut.  Yes, tonight Luis DJ'd my company's very first reunion, and although I woulda been nervous as a long tailed cat in a room full of rockin chairs, (I must be channeling Dolly Parton) - Luis was cool as a cucumber.

Luis has been practicing for several weeks now, and I think that he got really comfortable with the equipment and I have to say that I was REALLY impressed with how confident he was; AND how great his mixes sounded.

I had planned to go to the reunion for few hours, just to support Luis but my boss enlisted my help, so I greeted people and helped them find their name badges.  Once again I found myself in the midst of a sociological smorgasbord.  Between the fashions, the shoes, and the demeanors; I was in my people watching glory.

Sadly, just as people were getting on the dance floor, it was time for me to get back home to my kids, so I can't tell you how successful the reunion / Luis, was or wasn't.  BUT regardless, I am SO proud of Luis for pursuing one of his dreams.  He's always wanted to be a DJ and tonight he got paid to do so.  So if you ask me, Luis ROCKS!!

Now since I'm in total dance mode after spending a few hours at the reunion, I'm going to share a dance video that Luis forwarded to me.   Check it out and ENJOY!!
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-360) PEARLS...

I feel the need to lighten things up today.  Was that a sigh of relief I heard?  "My Story - Part 1 and Part 2" took a lot out of me - and I suspect you.  So today I wanna share some real pearls of wisdom that for the most part come from a rather unexpected source.

Luis joined Facebook a lil late in the game and even once he did, he rarely got on.  I'm not sure what caused his change of heart but now it's safe to say that he's definitely a fan.  More often than not, he seems to post his statuses while he's at work, so I have no idea where or how he's obtaining the gems that he's been sharing; but for the last week or so - he's had some great ones. 

Now don't get me wrong, Luis is not suddenly a poet or philosopher; I mean he IS the man who posted and I quote, "IF YOU SEE SOME ONE SEXY SAY HEYYYY.. HEYYYY POOH..!!"  ( He was talking to me, when he said "Pooh.")   He was pretty proud of this post and he told me to go look for it before I ever saw it.  He said that it was a line in a song that he couldn't get out of his head.  I later heard the song and determined that he was listening to it with his accent, because that's not EXACTLY what it said; but I was flattered nonetheless.   

The statuses that followed were the ones that I was even more impressed by.  Now he doesn't always give credit to the authors, so to some less knowledgeable Facebook friends, he may appear to be one profound dude (and he is); but my point is, I'm not going to go look the quotes up and credit the authors today.  I'm just going to share exactly what Luis has posted:

"Love others as they are, not as you want them to be."

"Books alone don't make good students. Kids need caring teachers at school and loving parents at home."

"Trust yourself. you know more than you think you do."

"There is nothing wrong by been different!"  (OK, on this one he must have been spelling with his accent because I'm pretty sure it should have said "being" different.)

"Love all. Trust few. Do wrong to no one."

" When I'm sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead."

"Anyone who has never made a mistake has never tried anything new." 
~ Albert Einstein

"Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly."  (Now that one got varied responses...)

"If you do what you've always done, you'll get what you've always gotten." 

"Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow."

Rest assured, that I absolutely had his permission to share his musings with you, (my comments and all).  And although I'm certain that it appears like I'm pokin a little bit of fun at him - trust me when I tell you that I am so appreciative of the fact that these concepts are important and noteworthy to him.  Talk about (say it with me) "The Greater good."
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-359) My Story - Part 2

Let me start off by saying that I truly appreciate the heartfelt comments that I've been receiving in response to yesterday's post "My Story - Part 1".  Perhaps most bloggers wouldn't start chapter two of a story that way, but then again; I'm not most bloggers. 

If you read part 1 of my story, then I probably don't need to warn you that this is not a happy tale.  In fact, today's recollection is much more difficult for me to tell -  but I'm going to do it no matter how uncomfortable it is; because I want to leave a written record of what my life was like and how I got to be who I am now...

I did not speak to my mother at my father's funeral.  I didn't know what to say, and at the time I still believed all of the horrible lies that my father had told me about her.  My father's girlfriend made arrangements for my boyfriend and I to spend a week with a friend of mine who lived in Maryland; and upon my return she told me that I had to meet with my mom because I was going to have to go back to live with her.  There were a lot of hurt feelings on both ends I know, but my mother welcomed me back with open arms; and slowly but surely I reciprocated.

We had my Sweet 16 as planned, and a few days later I was admitted to the hospital for Arthroscopic knee surgery; which also had been scheduled before my father had passed away.  School was set to start a few weeks after that, and I didn't want to go to the high school that was by my mom's house since I had been teased terribly throughout Jr, high.  Because my mom understood how important it was to me to remain at Tappan Zee,  she made arrangements with my Principal so that I could use a friend's address and continue going to school there.  As a result of my knee surgery, I had an enormous cast on my left leg, from my ankle to my thigh and  since TZ was a good twenty minutes from my house, my mom went out of her way to drive me to school every morning and she paid someone to drive me home.

I got on with my life, adjusting to not having a father and getting reacquainted with my mother.  Then one day I was called to the Principal's office.  I was informed that I had enough credits to graduate that spring; but since I was only sixteen and had just gone through a truly, traumatic experience, I didn't feel ready to leave my new home.  I opted to stay with my mom, who had been in remission from her Cancer and took classes for college credit during my senior year.  My house became the party house, and all of my friends loved spending time with my mom. She was different.  She was honest with us, and she was fun, and funny and I had far too little time with her.

After being weight listed for my school of choice, my mom and I took a last minute trip to visit two of the Long Island University campuses.  Ultimately she and I agreed that Southampton was the right place for me; but imagine my surprise when on the first day of school, every other person I met was a marine biology major and I was there for Pre-law.  I thought there must have been some mistake.  I mean science was definitely not my forte and pardon the pun, but I felt like a real fish outta water.  I came to be assured that there were other majors at LIU-Southampton; it was just that most people did go there for Marine bio.  Most people, like my suite mate Michele Q.

During our getting to know you exercises Michele Q and I discovered that we had the same birthday.  And at the time, other than our birthdays and our residence, I thought that was all that we had in common.  It wasn't that I didn't like Michele Q; in retrospect, maybe I was just jealous.  She was vivacious, and confident and she walked around singing (beautifully) at the top of her lungs, and maybe just maybe I felt a little threatened by her. 

My mom came out for parents weekend, and she looked great.  I suppose that's why it was such a surprise that she ended up back in the hospital by Halloween.  Her cancer had come back, and I needed to get home to see her.  I was scared and I didn't want to go alone and when I asked if any of my suite mates would go home with me, Michele Q was the only one to say she would.  Michele enlisted our other suite mate Monique to come with us and they managed to turn a very frightening experience into a life changing event.  Michele came home with me every weekend to go see my mom in the hospital.  She had become my best friend; my sister. 

We almost lost my mom at Christmas time, but she managed to hold on.  I returned to school after the New year, but a week into my second semester, my Uncle called to say that my mom was being released from the hospital as there was nothing more that they could do for her, and I needed to withdraw from school, come home and take care of her.

When I got back to my mom's house, I found her in a hospital bed in our living room.  My grandparents had said that they would stay to help and there would be home health aides coming daily as well.  I enrolled at Rockland Community College, and I got a job at a bakery because I couldn't stand to be at home watching my mother deteriorate.  I would get up in the middle of the night when she called me for help, but I did so begrudgingly and that is a cross that I will always have to bare.  I won't make excuses for myself, but I do realize that I was 18 and for the second time in three years I was going to lose a parent.  I was watching my mother be slowly tortured and it was killing me; so no, I wasn't in good spirits when I tried to assist her and I will forever regret that.

While the Cancer took over my mom's body and she had no idea who I was; I had reapplied to the American University School of Justice in Washington D.C and got in.  But knowing that it wouldn't be long before we were going to lose my mom, I decided that I should stay closer to home for my brother's sake and I made plans to return to LIU in the fall.    Feeling like I was going to need to focus on more than just academics, I had applied to become a Freshman Student Assistant and after an extensive interview process I was selected for a position.  FSA training was scheduled for a week before school started, but knowing that my mom's end was near, I couldn't bring myself to leave.  I called Michelle Q, who had just arrived home after spending the  summer in Suriname.  And as soon as I told her how dire things had become with my mom, she literally dropped off her suitcases and got on a bus to come up to see me.

In the only moment of lucidity that my mom had experienced in weeks, she told Michele that she needed to pack me up and take me back to school.  I didn't want to go because I knew that I would never see my mom again, but Michele insisted as it was my mother's dying wish. 

I don't remember saying goodbye to my mother, as the person that I left in that hospital bed was a mere skeleton and not the exquisite, exuberant mom that I had grown to know and love.  I think that I must have cried almost all the way to school, but Michele reassured me that she would be there for me; and she was.

A few days after classes had started, I got the call that I knew was inevitable.  On September 11, 1986 my mom had lost her long, battle with Cancer and at the age of 19, I was parentless.  Michele and some other school friends took me home for the funeral and I attempted once again, to get on with my life.

My Uncle had moved in with my brother, as he was 17 and still needed to finish high school.  I tired to go home for Christmas, but I felt so uncomfortable there, that I never went back.  My Provost knew about my situation and as I wasn't eligible for work study, he created jobs for me so that I could live on campus during winter and summer breaks.

I worked as an FSA, I was Student Government Secretary for a year and a half, and President my senior year.  I changed my major to Sociology because I decided that I didn't want to be a lawyer and I didn't want to lose all of the college credits that I came in with from high school and I decided not to attend my graduation because even though Michele  and my dad's old girlfriend would have been there for me; I thought that it would just hurt too much.

After I lost my father, I thought to myself  that losing someone so unexpectedly must be so much more awful than knowing that someone was going to pass away.  But after watching my mom suffer the way she did, I can honestly say that in my opinion,  knowing is by far worse.   

I know that this story is an unusual one, and I readily admit that these experiences have left me with profound scars.  But each day I try to be the best person that I can be and I endeavor to be a person that my mom would be proud of.  I don't hold a grudge against Richie Howell, I just don't have any fond memories or good thoughts about him. Yet despite him and the course that he set in motion for my life,  I am happy.  I know that although I lost a lot at an early age, I also have so much more than most people, in the way of those who love and care for me.  
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-358) My Story - Part 1

To quote Steve Martin in "The Jerk", "My story?  OK..."  I know Big V appreciated that reference, and hopefully it gave a smile to any other "Jerk" fans out there; and I'll give this disclaimer now, that's probably the only mildly amusing part of tonight's post.  358 days into my 43rd year and I realized that although I've mentioned numerous times that both my mom and dad passed away when they were 43, I never told you how.  Because their deaths and the circumstances surrounding their passings are such a big part of who I am and why, I feel that I can't let this year go by, with out telling you my story.  So settle in, and be prepared to sit a spell, because this just may be the bumpiest ride EVER.

I remember that when I was a kid, people used to tell me that they never knew a couple more in love than my mom and dad.  I suppose this is why many were so surprised by their separation - but not me.  When I was in sixth grade my dad had heart failure and ultimately it was determined that he needed to have open heart surgery.  One night, a few weeks before his operation, he came up to say goodnight to me and he told me that if he survived the surgery he was going to leave my mother.  Being 11 I had no idea what to do or say so I kept this information to myself.  He had the surgery on May 17, 1979 and did survive, but he did not move out until November when I was on a weekend, class trip to Washington D.C and my mom was one of the chaperones.  We came home from what had been a really great trip, only to find out that he didn't live with us anymore.

I've mentioned before that Richie Howell never seemed too interested in being a dad.  But once he'd moved out, he started paying more attention to my brother and I.  We went to Broadway shows, and restaurants and he even asked us if we wanted to come and live with him.  I was conflicted about where I wanted to live, because for once my father was paying positive attention to me and my mom was dating a man that I did not like and he was coming between us.  I felt that my mom chose this man over me one night when I asked her not to go out because I'd had a tooth pulled, but he convinced her to leave me.  I called my father upset (remember I was 12) and he came over; but when my mom got home and found him there, she was not too happy with me.  After my father had left, I told my mom that I didn't like this man and she slapped me across the face.  It was this altercation that made me decide to go and live with my dad and forever changed the course of my life.

Shortly after arriving at my father's I realized that he was using my brother and I so that he wouldn't have to pay money to my mother.  We lived in a two bedroom apartment.  My dad had bought himself a beautiful bedroom set and the furniture store had given him a loaner set till his was delivered.  As they never asked for the set back, he put it in the second bedroom that I had to share with my brother.  The bedroom sets were the only furniture in the apartment other than a card table and four folding chairs.  It wasn't that my dad couldn't afford to furnish the apartment, because believe me , he could.  It was just that he said he didn't want to buy furniture for the apartment when he intended to buy a house once their divorce was final, and then he would have to buy new furniture again, which he didn't want to do.  We lived this way for two years, although my brother would move back and forth between my mom and dad's a couple of times.

While I lived with my dad I didn't talk to my mom, because he had convinced me that she'd been saying terrible things about me.  We had no relationship to speak of and that is the biggest regret of my life.  I was a child, being badly influenced by her father, and it wasn't until he died that I learned the truth.

During my first year of high school, my father informed me that my mom had been diagnosed with Cancer.  He suggested that we might move back home with her, but ultimately he decided not too.  Then the summer before I went into tenth grade, my father went into the hospital to have a hernia operation and he had a heart attack as he was coming out of the anesthesia.  His health deteriorated throughout that year, but I have to be honest and tell you that his addiction to prescription drugs definitely contributed to his illness, AND I believe that he had a death wish.  For some reason he ALWAYS had it in his head that because his father passed away at the age of 43, he would too.

It was the summer of 1983, I was 15 years old, planning for my Sweet 16 party and in love for the first time.  My brother was living with us again, because me mother threatened to take out a PINS (Person In Need Of Supervision) petition on him, and  if my father didn't take him back he would have had to go into foster care.  It was only fair that my father take him, because upon my father's orders my brother had been trying to drive my mom crazy and that included verbal and physical abuse.

I was at my boyfriend's house and my brother called to ask me if we could take him for a haircut.  When I said "No", my father told him to take the bus.  He did, but when he got off, a car hit him and he was rushed to the hospital.  My father called me and told me what had happened and he insisted that we all go to the hospital to see my brother.  We did, and on the way home, it seemed like my father was trying to prepare me for his departure.  He was telling me things like, "when you're older this, " and stuff like that; but I didn't make anything of it.  As the air conditioning happened to be broken in our apartment, my father left me and my brother's girlfriend to sleep there, and he went across the street to sleep at his girlfriend's apartment. 

The next morning HE went to get a haircut, and when he came back he told me that he didn't think that he was going to make it to my Sweet 16, (which was less than one month away).  I asked if that was because he was going to have to go out of town, and he said "No, it's because I don't think I'll be alive."  I begged him to stop talking like that, and not in so many words, told him that I thought he was exaggerating; and he told me "You're a selfish, little bitch and you're going to be sorry."  He went back to his girlfriend's apartment and left me alone.

A couple of hours later his girlfriend called to tell me that my brother had been calling non-stop because he wanted to be picked up from the hospital.  She said that she was going to stop by my apartment to get my father's phone book in case they needed to call the doctor, because he hadn't been feeling well.  She asked him if he wanted to talk to me, and he said "No."  When she stopped by a few minutes later, I decided that I would go over to her apartment to check on him.  Barefooted I crossed the street and she shouted to me that her mom was going to her car to get something and I could just let myself into the apartment.  I went in and found my father slumped off the couch.  I called to him and tried to shake him, but he didn't move.  I ran outside and called to his girlfriend's mom, "Please come quick, something is wrong with my dad."  She came up, saw him and called 911.  When the paramedics arrived, I went to get my shoes, and then rode to the hospital with the police.  They asked me for some history, which I gave to the best of my knowledge.  When I arrived at the hospital, they had me sit in a private waiting room, and after some time, my brother, his girlfriend, my boyfriend and my dad's girlfriend showed up.  The doctor then came in and told us that my father had suffered cardiac arrest and died.  He said that he was dead when I found him and I was in shock.

My father's self fulfilling prophecy had come true and my life as I knew it was about to change dramatically.  Not only did I have to face my mom, who I hadn't seen or spoken to in two years; I now had no choice but to move back to live with the woman whom my father had turned into my enemy.  Interestingly enough, all of my father's plotting and scheming were for nothing as by the time he passed away, they were nowhere close to settling their divorce and he and my mom were still married.  The only thing that he succeeded in doing was robbing me of two years with my mother, for his own selfish reasons, which is why I refer to him most often as Richie Howell, instead of my dad.     

I know that this is a lot to absorb for one night; so please return tomorrow for part 2 of my story.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING 
     

(43-356) Arizona Rain

Quite some time ago, I posted "A Lil Bit About Arizona" and I explained that Luis and I had moved from Florida to Arizona, sight unseen in January, 1997.  January was a good time of year to move here because it wasn't hot at all.  In fact I was super, surprised to experience rain almost every day that month. And if you've never been to Arizona then this is probably news to you too.

Just because we live in the desert doesn't mean that we never get rain, nor does it mean that the temperature doesn't cool down.  The truth of the matter is that typically from mid-October through mid-May our weather is delightful; and we do experience a rain storm from time to time.  The summer months and September are usually when we endure our highest temperatures; but it is true that it's a dryer heat, so it's not usually as uncomfortable as a high temp accompanied by humidity.  Don't get me wrong; I'm not gonna try and convince you that at 118 it's not HOT, cause IT IS; but at least we're not sweating profusely.

Anywho, this afternoon Kelsie and I went to Super Wal-mart for a couple of things, and as I was checking out I heard this unfamiliar, loud sound, pounding on the roof.  I asked the checker what was going on and he said "rain," to which I replied "if the rain sounds like that, it must be pouring."  I finished my transaction and went to look at the door and sure enough, it was torrential.  Kels and I decided to wait the storm out a bit in the McDonald's that's in the store.  After I thought the rain had subsided, we decided to head to the car.  We walked through the cool rain, commenting that despite the wind it really wasn't so bad.  We reached our minivan and I let Kelsie into the car.  Then just as I was about to put a bag in, she yelled "Mommy look, there's a tree on our car!"  And this is what I saw:

The tree ran the spans of our windshield. The wind had been so strong that the tree snapped and fell onto our minivan.

Kelsie asked how we were going to get the tree off of our car, and I'll admit, I wondered the same thing.  I was hoping that I could just back out slowly and that the tree would slip off.  But being that things don't always work out the way I think they will (ie "An Accident Waiting To Happen"); I wasn't certain that I was right in my thinking.  Nonetheless, not feeling like I had many options, and with the rain persisting, I decided to give my plan a try - and thankfully it worked like a charm.  Our car suffered a bent antenna, but no other damage that I could see.  As we were pulling out I snapped another pic just so I'd have more to share with you and Luis.  My minivan was under where the tree is lying in the parking spot; but what you see here was only a portion of it.

Kelsie and I drove still in shock over what happened, but proud that we'd gotten out of it as well as we did.  The worst part of all is that as we drove home, I realized that our Disney soccer antenna ball was missing.  I loved that antenna ball because it always helped me locate my car in a parking lot.  Oh well, something tells me I'm gonna be in for a bunch more parking lot related incidents until I replace that antenna ball.

So for those of you who thought it doesn't rain in Arizona; now you've seen proof.

Till next time...

Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-354) Better Than First Place

When I opened my eyes this morning I had absolutely no idea what day it was.  I thought for a moment "is it Friday, and I have to get up to work?"  I considered it and then thought "it might be Saturday."  Feeling pretty confident that it was in fact Saturday, I checked my cell phone for the time, saw that it was 6:45am and yelled  "WE OVERSLEPT!!!!!!!!!!!"   Luis woke up immediately and asked what was wrong, and I frantically said "WE OVERSLEPT, we're supposed to be at the pool in five minutes."  And the pool was a good 20 minutes away (15 if someone other than Luis was driving.) 

We woke the kids up, explained that we overslept and rushed everyone to get ready.  I texted Kailene to let her know what was going on and asked her to save spots for us.  The truth of the matter was, we did have a little time to spare, because the only thing that we were truly late for was getting their early enough to wait online, so that we could get a good spot.  The kids didn't really have to be in the pool until 730, and the meet wasn't supposed to start until 8.

My family did a great job of getting ready on the fly.  I had Luis take Nicky and Kelsie up to the pool, and Lyndzi and I made a Dunkin Donuts and McDonald's run, because there was no way that I was gonna wake up without a big ole Iced coffee and Luis wanted a couple of breakfast burritos.  Including my two stops, I managed to pull into the parking lot at 734 and I was quite impressed with myself.  

Once everyone was settled in at the meet, and I had a minute to think, I recalled another day when I'd overslept in a similar way, and suffice it to say it didn't end as well as today did.  It was May 1984 and I had a VERY busy weekend.  That Friday night I went to my friend Russell's senior prom.  The next day, Big V and I, along with several other friends, went to Great Adventure.  We arrived home MUCH later than we were supposed to, which I do admit was my fault; and my mom was none to happy with me.  I was SO exhausted that I didn't pack for our choir tour which was leaving first thing the following morning.  I went to sleep and woke up to a panicked call from my friend Melissa.  She asked what I was doing because two buses of people were waiting for me so that we could leave for our choir tour.  "Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God!"  I had overslept, my school was a good twenty minutes away, no matter who drove and I wasn't even packed.  I begged my mom not to make me go; but she was not so sympathetic and she ordered me to throw some stuff in a bag and get my ass in the car.  I felt humiliated as we pulled into the parking lot and saw the two huge buses sitting there.  I climbed onto my bus as mortified as could be.  I tried not to look anyone in the face, for fear that they would give me the stink eye, or worse.  I climbed into my seat, and tried to look invisible, but that only lasted a few minutes, because I burst out into a loud laugh when my friend Patti's mom asked "does anyone want something hard to suck on"?  heck, I'm laughing about it now.  How immature am I ?  Before our choir director would allow the buses to pull out he insisted on making an announcement over the loud speaker, crediting me for our late departure and advising that at each and every stop we made, I was expected to be on the bus no less than ten minutes before everyone else.  I guess that was a small price to pay, so I accepted my punishment without objection and the buses pulled out, for New Orleans.

I shared this story today with Lyndzi and Kelsie, sans the hard sucking candy part and I think that they felt bad for me. No need to though, because at least I can look back and chalk it up to experience.  A bad experience, but an experience.

Our lateness didn't effect my kids at all.  Both got to warm up on time, although Kelsie wasn't needed in the meet since the top eight swimmers were in attendance.  Nicky swam his race and came in sixth, exactly where he was seeded, and I am delighted to say that he was very happy with that.  I guess we really got through to him; an that for me is better than a first place medal.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING

(43-353) Nicky's Turn

Tonight was Nicky's turn at the swim team (Semi) Championships.  I guess I really should call it the championships because that's what the league refers to it as; but then what do you call the final meet that only the top 8 swimmers and two alternates qualify for?  I've heard someone refer to that meet as the finals, so if we're going with that, then tonight Nicky swam in the championships.  That sounds confusing to me and I WAS there, so I'm sure that must have caused a re-read or six, but hey - what's the name of this blog?

So the way that it worked was each swimmer could choose three strokes to swim in.  Then all of the people in the league that chose to swim that stroke, were put into heats and lanes based on their best time in that stroke.  They didn't call the places out, because the city of Glendale was kind enough to run our meet and brought with them, their electronic timing machines.  In addition to the machines, there were two time keepers on every lane, and they had to press a plunger like device when the swimmer reached the wall, as well as record a time per a stop watch that each lane duo was provided with.  Go ahead, ask me, you know you want to .  Here I'll help, "how is it that you know so much about the electronic score keeping and what's involved"?  AND you know you know the answer to that one, so just go ahead and say it, "I know because the coach requested that my friend Kailene and I be timers in exchange for a parking pass, which precluded us from having to park in East Jabib; AND free cold water."   Sorry, I know I was telling you about the meet and got carried away by my FREE stuff.  So anyway, after each of the heats, the kids went to the awards table so that they could be presented with their appropriate medal.  Afterwards, all of the times from each heat of a particular stroke were calculated and the kids with the eight fastest times in each stroke, were the ones who had qualified for "the finals" on Saturday. 

With this knowledge in his pocket, Nicky was nervous about today's meet.  Both Luis and I reassured him that this wasn't a big deal and that he'd be fine. But he's his mother's son and he worried.  Nicky's first race was the 50 meter Freestyle, for which he came in 5th and was very dissatisfied.  Nicky came over to us and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.  I tried to comfort him, and tell him how proud we were of him, but he was still too frustrated with himself to hear it.  A while later Luis decided to take a walk over to where Nicky was, to try and get him to think positively and try his best.  He came in third for breaststroke, and although he did better, he still wanted to come in first.  I explained that he had done beautifully, and he'd come so far, that he should be thrilled with himself; and I think that he wanted to be, but he just couldn't.  Not too long thereafter, we found out that Nicky had qualified for "the finals" by coming in 6th overall.  And finally he cracked a smile.

Feeling good about himself, Nicky swam in his last race - the butterfly.  He was doing very, very well and came in third, but they disqualified him for doing a Breaststroke kick at some point during his race; and that sent him right back into depression mode.  I implored Nicky to focus on the positive, and what he'd achieved, as opposed to concentrating on the negative, and what "might have been."  But sadly it's not his nature to do that.

When all was said and done, Nicky had qualified to swim in the finals for the Breaststroke, and that is a big (yes) HUGE accomplishment.  I'm so proud of him!  And while I'm busy being proud, I would be remiss if I didn't mention that Kelsie actually qualified as an alternate for her age group Breaststroke.  Kelsie had come in fifth for the race, but she had the tenth best time in the league, which is why she's an alternate. 

I think that we've all learned some valuable lessons during the course of this swim team season, and I can't wait to see Nicky (and possibly Kelsie) swim in "the finals."  No matter how they do.
Till next time...
Queen of EVERYTHING