howling

Coyote dog 1988

I heard the coyotes early this morning. I usually miss their racous yelps due to a condition known to some as sleep... not last night though. I should definitely know better than to drink anything caffienated - EVER! but Tejava sounded really good late yesterday and being that it had been at least two years since my last taste of the dark black tea, and anything caffienated for that matter, I didn't give my purchase a second thought. Not until 3a.m. anyway. And now that it's 6:30 a.m. and sleep is still eluding me maybe caffiene and I should part ways indefinitely....

The coyotes bantering took me back to my childhood in the desert. Back to 1987-88ish. We were camping at Thousand Trails and saw a sign for puppies. My parents really weren't animal people, or at least not lovers of the 4 legged variety. But for some reason, possibly being two young daughters with big ol' pleading eyes, we stopped and found us a dog. She was half collie and half coyote. I'm quite certain I came up with her name. Being the half wild creature she was she needed a fitting moniker. In the late 80's Tiffany was it. Hmmmm... well at least she had red hair. AND thankfully I am no longer 10 years old passing out names. I like to think I have more appropriately named my children. After Taluelah, some may disagree.....

It has been 5 years and 5 days since my dad passed away. We are 2 days away from the one on which my dad was born 70 years ago. Remembering life as a child always brings me back to him. My life truly was what it was and is what it is because of my dad. The same blood did not course through our veins, but you wouldn't have known it. My dad's heart pumped a love more pure than any I ever could have experienced from a biologically connected father. The life previously known to me, prior to life with dad, did not include a dog named Tiffany. It couldn't. It did not include a home and the freedom to be a child. I grew up pretty fast, saw a lot, hurt a ton. I'm almost certain life with dad slowed the growth to a somewhat normal rate, I still saw - it's what I do, and well, some hurts never go away... but they can be soothed. Or smoothed over.

It has been one week and 4 days since my Aunt KenniAnne passed away. Still boggles my mind. It seems to me that one of the most oft asked questions pertaining to death and dying has to do with the suddeness with which it can come. Is it best to go suddenly or to slowly fade away? Guess that all depends on who you're asking. and when.

My dad withered. Not like a delicate flower whose petals slowly shrivel and turn to dust, whose stem hardens and bends and with the slightest provocation breaks... no. More like a balloon. once so full of air, so bright. shrinking. but still plump. fading. going through the motions, though quite a bit slower, until there is no more Oomph... no more lift. no more. The cancer took it's toll on my once strong, proud father. He lost his hair. I tried shaving his head to free him of the pain of waking to a hair covered pillow. All he had was a Bic razor. My poor dad sat and grimaced as I attempted to shave off the dark black hair we were in earlier years so sure he would die with in his much older age... while I laughed... only because if I didn't laugh he might see the actual pain I was feeling. I wasn't able to complete the job, and my dad had an even patchier head when he compelled me to be done. He made it 7 months rather than the 6 they gave him. He died with a head full of silvery gray hair.

7 months of suffering, for all of us. 7 months of realization, for all of us. 7 months to say what had to be said and 7 months to spend what time could be spent. I will never regret those 7 months. At 17 I took a bunch of pills. I hated my dad. mom. sister. life. I was angry. I knew when I was sent to the hospital I was not sick. Sick people were in that psyche ward. Sick people tried to harm themselves again and again. The pills were my first attempt. my only attempt. not my proudest moment. But absolutely my most clarifying. Anger is poison. Secrets are deadly. Happiness is a personal responsibility. Oh, and children should be allowed to just be children without the weight of the world thrust upon their shoulders. A lifetime of lies will wear a person down, no matter how short a lifetime we're speaking of. When you're 17, miserable, angry, unhappy... it's hard to sort through all of the heavy stuff. 7 months to make amends for all the pain secrets and a bottle of pills caused.

I am learning everyday that parents, this parent more specifically, are doing the best they/we/i can. We've all heard it. But of all the truths in this world, that's at the top of the honesty list. We are all raised by parents. They do the best they can. Some's best ain't that great. Some's best is what it is. Some's best is enough. (sidenote---> I'm not sure "some's" a word, but i like it.) We aren't all equipped with the best tools. We aren't all taught. We aren't all seekers of knowledge. This is what parenting is about and our poor children suffer at our inexperienced hands, be the suffering on a large scale or small. I couldn't see at 17. I started to

at 20

and 22

and 30...

My children are the greatest gifts I've ever had the honor of caring for. To say they are the air I breathe is more than a nice metaphor. Through their births I have found myself. I have found peace and all that matters. I have found why my dad bought that beautiful, half wild dog, even though he wasn't much of an animal lover. I put all that I have into being a good mother. I don't want to be adequate. I want to be good. Good is enough. Great would be too much. They have to see that I am human. That I fail. That I make mistakes. That I love them whole-heartedly through all blunders, theirs and mine. Ask them, does mom make mistakes? Abso-frickin-lutely. Ask them, is mom a pain in the ass? You betcha. Ask them, does mom love them. yes. Ask me, am I doing anything right? I am constantly trying. Hopefully that will be enough to ease any pain my mistakes cause my children.

I believe in good and bad. I believe in reward and punishment. I would never call a child a punishment... but maybe a challenge to those who deserve one. My daughter is my reward. She was conceived within a 3 day window. The middle day of which was July 18th... happy birthday dad. This world and beyond works in mysterious ways. I have always wanted a daughter. I am pleased she came after my two boys. I am older and maybe, this is a big maybe, a bit wiser. Having a child at 30 is quite a bit different than having one at 20. A girl was important to me for so many reasons. Not the least of which, is to see her be a child. I can see bits and pieces of myself in my two wonderful little men. Adam has my heart, Avery my enthusiasm. But Taluelah. My lovely little girl will bring me closer to seeing this world through a child's eyes, a girl child's eyes, than I ever have before. For that I look to the heavens and the earth and the seas and I thank the powers that be. I can't help but think my dad had something to do with this last little gift of life. of love. It saddens me that he never met her, at least on this plain. My kids have their angels... and so too, do I.

Mandi, Dad, Me... a new life beginning 1985

My aunt is gone. No goodbye. No laying her in bed so she can die in her sleep. No last moments of redemption. No time to heal together. Just shock. I've always wondered which way was easiest to go. Now I know. 7 months wasn't long, near 65 years weren't enough, but to be able to say I love you, thank you, I'm sorry, I understand.... I am so very glad my dad did not just go to sleep one night and leave all of this unsaid.

mom, me, dad... together 2004.

healing... and hurting.

I had planned on posting today with news of a nightmare nearing it's end. My girl's rapidly healing tummy has made the awfulness of the whole Wednesday night debacle start to subside. The raw redness of last week has given way to soft pink new skin. The doctor attributes that to the wound being superficial. We are just about done with the Silvidine ointment - just applying it to a quarter sized patch of still healing skin... and then we will be on to something to help avoid scarring. Mederma perhaps. Bath time is back and oh how we love it! No more stinky toes!!! The healing of my babe's belly has me thinking of the nature of our wounds... how some heal quickly and how some never find the chance.

My Aunt KenniAnne took her life this morning. I do believe life is a gift given... but oh how it can be a tortured and terrible existence depending on who's living it. I was looking forward to heading down to SoCal in a couple of weeks to see my aunt when she came to visit from Ireland. I have not seen her, my cousins or my uncle since they moved to Ireland approximately 4 years ago...

My mom called to say that my Aunt K was in the hospital after an attempt at taking her life. This is not the first attempt, but very sadly it was the last. The news was bad, the outlook grim, my mom would keep me posted. Maybe 10 minutes passed before my mom called back to say that my Aunt KenniAnne had no fight left, her candle had finally faded out. I only say finally because the demise of her life has been in the works for quite some time. There was not enough joy inside of my aunt to keep her going.

I know my family will be angry. I know my family is hurt. I know my family is devastated. I know not to take this personally. She was my aunt... not my sister, not my daughter, not my mother, not my wife. I cannot begin to imagine the pain that has been left behind in the wake of my Aunt K's untimely (based on our calendar) death for those who held her dearest. My heart aches for my beautiful little cousins, my uncle, all who called KenniAnne friend, family, love. She brought much light to our lives, brief though it was.

My Aunt K had a great sense of humor. She was witty. She was spunky. She had a fuck-may-care attitude. She had spiky platinum hair... some days.... other's it was her natural Irish red. She was full of life when she lived. Unlike my baby healing due to a superficial wound, my Aunt K's wonderful personality was the superficial outer covering to her truly sad inner self. Sometimes superficiality is a blessing... sometimes it is not.

My hope is that once the pain of this nightmare too passes, all of the great things about who my aunt was will prevail in our memories. It will take time because as the saying goes "time heals all wounds..." though I wonder if the author who penned that little line had ever met my Aunt KenniAnne, might he have changed his tune???

The Flynn girls... KenniAnne, Natalie, Jamie, Terri

lessons learned...

what a tough week.
it all started with my decision to begin the Master Cleanse. now the cleanse itself really wasn't that difficult. I didn't make it as long as I had wanted but that wasn't due to any failure to adhere to the rules of the cleanse... it was more a result of circumstance.
Adam had not been feeling well. He'd been in bed all day and whenever he removed his head from his pillow he complained of wanting to vomit. BUT had not vomited because he'd put his head back down and resume his sleep. Around 9 p.m. of my third full day of the Master Cleanse I was getting ready to call it a day... I was tired, hadn't eaten in 3 days - though hunger wasn't a bother - and wanted to finish the day feeling proud of what I'd accomplished. I made my tea and was headed to my room to prepare Taluelah for bed. Cup in hand I strolled on in only to see Adam streak by me into the bathroom. "So much for finishing the day on a high note", was my thought. I knew Adam's dash to the bathroom was an attempt at ridding himself of the aforementioned vomit. Dustin does not handle puke. He never has and I long ago learned to accept the fact that when one of my children, or myself, is praying to the Porcelain God, it is my duty to comfort and clean.
I set my boiling cup of tea down on my night stand and went into the bathroom to help my ailing eldest child. Not two seconds passed before I heard the scream....
I have two children of the boy variety. They are 9 and 11. They have made it to their respective ages without any major catastrophes. No broken bones, one split lip, a sprained ankle here or there. That's it. They are boys. They climb. They jump. They defy gravity. They push the limits that God above has set before them. Forget any limits I might have tried to set. They are whole. They have all their pieces and parts. I have been lucky, they luckier.
I have one child of the girl species. my sweet little Taluelah RuebiSue. she is newly one year of age. she doesn't climb - much. she doesn't jump. she doesn't defy - often. she toddles around playing with her babies. she has a wonderful imagination which allows her to "see" and "taste" while she plays with her tea set... pouring a cup and drinking. sharing with anyone who might be her playmate at the moment. why wouldn't she grab mom's cup of tea that was sitting too damn low on the night stand... right within her grasp????
I ran into my room, assuming the scream was the result of smashed fingers or some other mildly concerning malady. My baby was red faced, crying, pushing at her abdomen trying to brush off the liquid fire. she had grabbed my cup of tea and spilled it down the front of her little pink tank top.
oh no, oh my god, oh no, oh my god.... those two phrases played over and over in my head as I rushed her to the bathroom to apply a cold washcloth to her stomach. Once I got the tank off of her I could see two small, what would have been blisters had they not already opened, and a large chili pepper shaped patch of red burned skin. Taluelah cried and I tried and tried to comfort her. as time passed the two smallish patches of popped blistered skin just became one large open wound. no blister ever formed. the skin just rolled off. gravity pulled it down while her tears broke my heart. We loosely gauzed and bandaged her up.
The decision was made to take her to the ER. Avery would come with me to try and comfort our girl since Adam was puking sick and would need his dad to take care of him. Dustin does tend to come through when forced. In the midst of all this chaos Adam was leaning over the toilet trying to decide whether it was more important to vomit or to try and comfort his little sister. I think the vomiting won out but not for lack of his concern.
Dustin's work truck was parked behind his dad's regular truck in our driveway. The reason the dad's truck was here is another story that we unfortunately are much too familiar with... vehicle trouble. It was on loan for a short while. Alas, not too short awhile. I couldn't get the emergency break off because apparently at some time unbeknownst to me a cable had snapped. I yelled for Dustin to help me get the e-break off, he yelled for me to get out of the truck. I hesitated. he yelled again for me to get out of the truck. I got out. Dustin, on his knees, leaning in the truck released the e-break. the truck rolled backwards. down our driveway. Dustin hanging outside of it. the truck rolled. Avery and Taluelah inside. the truck rolled. I jumped out of the way just as the door hit my arm... right after the door hit my deck. Dustin managed to get inside the truck and slam on the breaks inches from my neighbors driveway. if you think my driveway is a bit steep, you should see hers... mine goes down, hers goes down steeper. my deck faired well. the truck door, not so. my neighbors house better than any of us.
in a matter of minutes it was obvious I was going no where in the truck. the door had nearly been ripped off. I ran to my neighbors house - the one whose house we nearly plowed into with a truck and frantically pleaded to borrow her truck.... amazingly enough, she acquiesced.
Got Taluelah to the ER. They took her in right away. Assured me I wasn't the horrible, awful, negligent, horrible, awful mother I felt like. ice packed, slathered antibiotic cream, gauzed and re-wrapped her. and away we went to Safe-Way to purchase more gauze and non-stick pads to care for my sweet girl with the 2nd degree burn to her belly.
The whole ordeal, from beginning to where i am now, has felt much like a nightmare. The cleanse came to an abrupt halt after my daughter scalded herself with my laxative tea. Can't much stomach the stuff now. I felt I was going to need food to help sustain me through my girl's healing period. there are times in this life that only a chocolate chip cookie will help assuage the guilt/pain/ache caused by personal negligence. my girl WILL heal. there may be a rather large chili pepper shaped scar on her tummy from now 'til who knows when but the girl will go on. I will make it through the guilt and the stuck gauze and the greasy ointment to come out of this a bit shaken but all the more aware of the consequences of my every move.

day4 of healing

so now... lessons learned:
1. a person, more specifically I, can survive on quite a bit less food than previously believed.
2. Cayenne/maple syrup flavored lemonade really isn't that good.
3. hunger is a state of mind when there is a house full of food... but I wouldn't want to be familiar with it if food was not readily available.
4. hot liquid should NEVER, EVER, NOT FOR ANY REASON, EVER be placed within the reach of a small child.
5. DO place an ice pack over gauze to draw the heat away from a burn.

6. Dustin IS capable of caring for and cleaning a puking child... at least when I am consumed with aiding an injured one.
7. DON'T exit your, or your parent's, vehicle before being CERTAIN said vehicle is in PARK.
8. a year old toddler is nearly impossible to keep bandaged up for a twelve hour period.
9. when your one year old looks at you and touches her belly and says "OWWW" your heart will break again and the guilt will flood back in.
10. ALWAYS be thankful for the family and friends and neighbors who will help you when you need it most without asking questions or passing judgement.

So glad a new week is starting...

drawing to an end... only to begin anew.

This post was actually started on June 11, 2009. Not sure what happened but it posted under a later date when I actually published it....

As the school year is coming to an end I have reason to be proud. Having two pre-teen boys there are plenty of moments to shake my head and wonder what I was thinking back when I decided that having children was a good idea.... and then there are moments like the present when all my labor finds it's reward.
The end of the year assembly took place this a.m. It will be the last such assembly in Adam's Elementary School career. My boy is moving on to Middle School next year *sniff*. He could not have finished his 6th year of school any better. He received an award for participating in band - he's come a long way on that trumpet!, an award for his time on Student Council, an award - his 6th of which out of 6 possible - for Honor Roll, and an award that has prompted this post.... Adam received the President's (President being Obama) Excellence in Education Award. This award is given to the children who are in the top 10% academically in the state. 3 girls and 1 boy - my Adam - received the award at his school. The kid is amazing. His memory, his ability to reason, his love of the written word, his desire to know....
As a mom I have tried to do what I can to instill the importance of quality education in my children. Education is a gift never to be taken for granted. My boy soaks it all in and I revel in his brilliance. I really couldn't be prouder.
Middle School will be a challenge... but one I am certain we will get through without too many scars. Who can tell what the rest of Adam's academic years will hold.... all I know is he's doing a fine job thus far!

another beginning

Typical family picture: Adam the goofball, Avery pissed he has to stop to take a picture, Taluelah smiling because that's what she does, Mom threatening bodily harm to anyone who looks pissed or goofy in the picture and Dad wondering if we're done yet.

I have decided that the babiesonline site no longer serves my purposes... it DID prove to be quite useful during my pregnancy and for this past year since. but no longer. As my girl sheds her infancy and takes her first steps into the person she is growing up to be she walks along side her two brilliant brothers while her Dada and MumMum watch on. The babiesonline site was about us. her and i. We have moved beyond that stage now and must include the rest of this wonderful little brood in our passages and pictures. afterall, her Abum and Aray are her favorite two boys (mine as well) and they deserve as much time in blogland as the rest of us. the following posts will be about life as we know it... boys, girl, baseballs, footballs, ballballs, school, learnings, yearnings, steps to walks, jibber-jabbers to talks, jobs, home... US.