Sparks and Butterflies...

But aside from that, she's still completely normal

Goodbye to the Decade

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I’m having a bit of trouble starting the New Year fresh. I think it’s because I need to say goodbye to the last year, and the last decade first. A lot has happened. So… I’m getting out my calendar, and doing a brain dump of the last decade. Here’s what I experienced. I’m sure I’m missing both good and bad… I used my calendar to trigger memories. Many of the things below happened to someone else in the family – but I was the manager, caregiver, bureaucrat, administrative assistant, nurse, lawyer, taxi driver and more. In addition, there has been significant spiritual growth – and attempts at spiritual growth. It ebbs and flows. There are a couple of other things I’m not ready – if I ever will be – to share yet.

Work Related

  • The ins and outs of my business. Losing and gaining clients. All the frustrations therein.
  • I fired a toxic client.
  • I let my longest client (of a decade) go so I can concentrate on the the things coming in the next couple of years. My work with him was a significant mental drain.
  • I’m slowly closing that business to open a different one in a different field.
  • Way too many, “What the hell do I do with the kids?” days where they had no school and I didn’t have work off.
  • Jay started the decade with a career change into security after two years of unemployment. He’s still with the same company, holding 7 different posts, and is now the Watch Commander of his shift. A decade of the graveyard shift, and still going.
  • He’s dealt with more than his fair share of burglaries, assaults, drunks, thefts, and trespassers in his work.
  • He had to testify in court about a particular experience in which a high trespassing woman attacked him with a fire extinguisher.
  • He fended off a knife attack with a mentally ill drunk who thought he lived at Jay’s work, and that Jay was stopping him from getting into his home. He came home and the first words out of his mouth were, “It’s not my blood.”

Travels, Friends, Entertainment

  • Have watched two friends’ marriage crumble, and all I can do is be a sounding board.
  • Friend traveled to visit me twice – once when mom died, once when dad died.
  • Jay went to San Jose to see his brother graduate from rehab.
  • Logan went to Ireland.
  • Logan went to Pennsylvania.
  • Logan went to Bellis Music Camp – 2 times as a camper, 1 time as a junior counselor.
  • 4 camping trips
  • 1 girls weekend in Palm Springs
  • 3 DCI shows
  • Big Bear for Christmas when I didn’t think I could handle the grief of it at home
  • San Jose for Christmas
  • Logan went to Palm Springs with Amy
  • Pahrump
  • Jamaica (first real family vacation ever)
  • Las Vegas
  • 3 Renaissance Fairs
  • 5 time the kids went to San Jose to visit grandparents
  • 2 Idaho trips to look at property
  • Dallas to watch the Cowboys in a home game
  • Transiberian Orchestra Concert
  • 4 tattoos (of 10)
  • Made friends. Lost friends.
  • Said goodbye to some toxic people – mostly family
  • Jay got to drive fast cars on a racetrack
  • 40 birthdays among my little family.
  • 10 (out of 21 so far) anniversaries with Jay.

School & Kids

  • Got two kids through elementary school and middle school – and all the volunteering, notes, field trips, lunches, homework, and recitals that entails. Oh.My.God. the volunteering (which continues).
  • Got one kid through high school, and the other is almost done.
  • Joseph being tested for a clinical trial for children with bipolar. He didn’t qualify for the trial. He’s left-handed. Turns out, left-handed folks’ brains are physically wired differently and the study needed to be an apples-to-apples study. He’s not bipolar anyway. He has early onset schizophrenia.
  • Transition to and graduation from a special needs elementary, middle, and high school for Joseph.
  • Transitions from elementary, to middle, to high school for Logan. He’ll be a senior next year.
  • Logan gained a girlfriend (and it’s almost their year anniversary).
  • 2 Elementary graduations.
  • 2 Jr. High graduations.
  • 1 High School Graduation.
  • 42 IEP meeting for the kids.
  • Logan started playing music with the ALF. Weekly lessons at 6am. Oof.
  • Logan started in the Jr. High orchestra, then moved to Jr. High band.
  • Logan moved into High School Marching band, Concert band, and Winter percussion.
  • Countless rehearsals Logan is driven to and from.
  • Countless parades, concerts, fundraisers, camps, field shows, and competitions to be loaded in, loaded out, transported to, and volunteered at.
  • Junior High dances were attended.
  • Homecoming was attended
  • Logan was Student of the Quarter for Science
  • Logan got his driving permit
  • Joseph began and ended football.
  • Joseph began and ended karate
  • Groundings and fights and arguments and punishments and consequences.
  • Sex talks
  • Learned how to do life – like laundry and cooking
  • Received a PTA Founder’s Day Award for my work with the elementary school (over a decade of being the Communications Chair)
  • Became VP of Communications for the MPA – in my 5th year

Pets

  • Many, many vet visits that didn’t make it into the calendar
  • Gained a dog named Lucy.
  • Cared for a cat through intestinal cancer.
  • 2 cats lost, Sassy & Pebbles
  • 2 cats gained, Ginger & Mozzie

Medical

  • 5 different psychiatrists gone through for Joseph (7 total)
  • 3 endocrinologists gone through for Joseph
  • 5 therapists gone through for Joseph
  • We took the step of medication for Joseph.
  • Threw out my back/hips – turned out I have an issue with my pelvic bones and vertebrae courtesy of pregnancy. Months of chiropractors and months of physical therapy. Still not totally there – but I’m not bent over in back pain either.
  • 26 therapy visits for myself.
  • More than 355 dentist/doctor visit among our family almost always needing labwork ahead. This includes regular doctors, eye doctors, pediatricians, gynecologists, surgeons, endocrinologists, cardiologists, therapists, psychiatrists, radiology, and oncology
  • Diagnosed with adenomyosis – hysterectomy incoming this year – bleeding more than I’m not
  • Attempted uterine biopsies – not possible in office. Turned into biopsies in the hospital under general anesthesia
  • Major dental work including bone grafts, caps, bridges, and dentures
  • 5 mental hospital stays – with the ER, police activity, red tape, and followups entailed
  • 1 broken nose
  • 1 broken thumb
  • 1 mammogram
  • 3 ultrasounds
  • 1 open abdominal surgery with two teratomas and several fibroids removed from ovaries and uterus (and the accompanying recovery time)
  • Severe ingrown toe requiring ongoing care and infection management
  • 2 chest xrays
  • Severe burn
  • 2 eyeglass prescription changes – including moving to progressives.

Housing/Transportation

  • 2 car accidents
  • 3 septic visits for emptying and repairs
  • 3 times switched phone/internet/cable companies
  • 2 homes gained through inheritance
  • 2 homes sold
  • 2 homes rented
  • 2 cars purchased
  • 4 vehicles obtained
  • 3 vehicles given away
  • 1 ticket
  • Landscape redone
  • Outside of houses painted

Drama, Crap, and Grief

  • Helped my dad care for my mom through illness and Alzheimer’s.
  • I watched my mom die on Father’s Day, 2013.
  • I helped dad, Jay, and my kids deal with her death. Not to mention my own grief and issues.
  • Helped dad through life without mom – Paying bills, and getting affairs in order, etc.
  • Visited with a lawyer 10 times in helping my dad, dealing dad’s estate, and then family drama resulting from estate.
  • Walked dad through diagnosis of Stage IV Prostate Cancer – including oral chemo, pain meds, hospital stays, biopsies, pet scans, oncology visits, and so very much blood. Learned how to administer fentanyl.
  • Took over dad’s financials when he was on too many pain meds.
  • Moved in with dad to care for him.
  • Started in-home hospice to care for him.
  • Dad died on my birthday in 2018.
  • So. Much. Family. Drama. The black sheep. The one who’s not “really” their kid. Hatred that I’m the one in charge. Being blamed for actions taken by others decades before. Death – or really… estates – really bring out the worst in people. I’m still working it all out here on the blog. Jay eventually had to take over familial interactions.
  • Worked with bankers on estates (a new one for me)
  • Learned way too much about Family Trusts
  • Fought with a neighbor over and over again over septic smells… Coming from her house… that she blamed me for.
  • Installed security due to family drama. And got law enforcement involved on several occasions.
  • 12 court/legal/medical legal/government proceedings for Joseph

Who knows what the next decade holds? In the next couple of years, we’ll see a major operation for me, someone getting their driver’s license, another high school graduation, cleaning out of probably 100 years worth of cumulative stuff of my parents’ and their families, purchase of land and a house or building a house in another state, and moving to another state. Not to mention the gains, losses, happiness, grief, sadness, and milestones.

This next year… This next decade… I will bloom.

What the Hell Happened to Me?

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In a word… Life.

I was looking at my blog and realized that I haven’t written consistently since 2016. Wow. And then life went crazy.

Here’s a very short synopsis, and I hope to come back write more specifically.

  • Mom died.
  • The after mom stuff – like what happened to her body and teaching dad how to function.
  • Getting used to dad’s new normal – which includes hording.
  • Getting used to our new normal.
  • Sassy dying.
  • Pebbles dying.
  • Dad becoming more dependent on us.
  • Dad getting sick.
  • Dad dying.
  • The after dad stuff. Like my family being fucking crazy, and death bringing out the very worst in people, and realizing I really don’t have anyone but Jay. Finding out what people really think of you? I don’t know.
  • Joseph graduating – and going from a minor to adult in all services.
  • Jamaica.
  • Lucy
  • The houses – pre-selling. Selling.
  • Moving, renting, the guest house, and more family what-the-ever-loving-fuck.
  • Hysterectomy?
  • Where we are now.
  • What the plans for the future are.
  • Jim. And Jeannette, my dad, and the whole tale.
  • Updates on Jay, Joseph, Logan, the pets, and me, now.

Now What?

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My history with blogging is long… Very long.

I’ve always been a diary person, logging my thoughts, hopes, dreams, lists, whatever in a personal journal.

I was an early user of personal computers. I learned in about 1992, in a summer school word processing course, that I was able to get my thoughts out quicker, and easier, when I typed. I got my first PC around that time as well. An Apple IIC+ that my mom got me for free by opening a bank account (the latest in the “Free Toaster!” type of marketing). So, I started keeping my thoughts on floppy disk, instead of handwriting them in a paper notebook.

I was eventually able to upgrade my PC, and was able with one of those AOL CD’s you got in the mail, to connect to the internet, and the world opened up to me. I thought have my diary online might be interesting, and in stumbling around, found others doing the same thing. These were “online journals.” Coded in basic scratch html, in notepad, and uploaded to your server space (I got some free space with my AOL account). I hand coded every bit of it. I don’t remember what I called it. Probably Keeargo’s space or some such – I remember Keeargo was my online handle at the time – I think. Sparksfley, and Sparks and Butterflies, both definitely came after marriage, because they were a byproduct of a conversation with Jay. Eventually the evolution of sharing your life online included “web logs.” Note: Online journals were longer diaries with your thoughts. Web logs were shorter, more bullet point type things. Eventually the language changed and “web logs” turned into “blogs.” I remember people were very definitive about web logging and journaling, and the difference between the two. Eventually as online software progressed, the two worlds merged to use the same technology and vernacular, and “blogging” became a verb.

I’ve been writing online since about 1995. My current archives go back to May of 2000 – my oldest, Joseph was a month old. (I lost all the older archives in a fried computer incident before I learned the words BackupBackupBackup and save.) To put that in perspective, that child is now 15 years old and a sophomore in high school.

I was a part of the first wave of “mommy bloggers.” I HATED that term for a couple of reasons. The title seemed to say that I only wrote about my kids and/or parenthood. That wasn’t true. I had been journaling online before I even met my husband. So while I continued to journal into my parenting years, I was blogging about my life, not just one aspect of my life, so it felt like an inaccurate term. The term also felt dismissive, like being a “mommy” somehow reduced the amount of brain cells I had, or somehow negated my opinions. Regardless, I was caught up in that momentum. Marketers were taking notice of both the technology, and the market of mothers. I had advertising. I went to conferences. I did paid reviews. I monetized. I was a part of blogging communities and lists and online events and social media advents like Twitter. The whole.nine.yards. Kit-and-kaboodle. The whole shebang. The whole enchilada… You get it.

But things started getting complicated. My kids started getting older. I had to make decisions on what to share, what not to share. My kids started having physical, emotional, and behavioral special needs. Opening up about those things also opened me up to a whole lot of judgement. My mom’s health declined. I was needed more and more. My son’s mental health was going downhill. It was all so crazy that I quit a job I loved to work from home, because I essentially needed to be geographically located there to help my dad deal with my mom, help my mom, handle all the IEP meetings, and conferences and medical appointments and evaluations.

In addition, the blogging community felt as if it was changing. It was no longer about the freedom of expression, and having a place to vent, and holding a space with others, knowing you weren’t alone. It became about clicks, and visitor numbers, and page views, and Google rankings. It became a high tech version of a junior high popularity contest. In order to keep up with all that you had to churn out (well written, well researched, potentially popular and/or controversial) content to remain relevant or you were punted to the curb, and didn’t get to participate in the goodies. While my priorities were in the right place with my family, I still had a ton of anxiety of the fact that I couldn’t keep up with what blogging had become. I started writing less. You can only say “life sucks right now” in so many ways.

Mom became sicker and sicker. Home care was eventually needed. I was my Dad’s respite worker.

My oldest had tons of medication changes and was in and out of mental institutions.

My husband was out of work for a couple of years and eventually had to change careers entirely.

My younger son needed care and attention with all this going on.

I still had to build my at-home business, because we couldn’t live on Jay’s income alone in our Los Angeles suburb, but I HAD to be available to everyone for everything.

Then mom died.

Then my blog was just gone and sold through no fault of my own.

There’s a reason I developed ulcers, is what I’m saying.

I’m back on a slightly different URL. Maybe I’ll get readers back, maybe I won’t. But you’ll notice the blog is very bare. It is just my thoughts. No advertising. No sponsoring. I’m going back to my html in notepad days in terms of mindset. I’m scheduling time in my planner for writing out my thoughts. Hopes, dreams, rants, raves, tantrums, loves.

Are You Prepared?

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One thing we’ve been working on around here is emergency preparation.

One teacher I follow on YouTube said this about her stash: These are my earthquake-fire-emp-mayan calendar-bible apocolypse – economic disaster – zombie apocalypse supplies.

To which I say, “Exactly.” You see, you never-ever-ever know what can or is going to happen. Never.

Right now, I think the country is on a dangerous, teetering precipice. It could all go really really good, or really really bad, really really fast. In addition there are a ton of spiritual teachings about times we seem to be in, everything from ultimate natural disaster, to Biblical end times, to human enlightenment. And finally, I live in southern California. Can anyone say “earthquake?” And believe me when I say – that’s not fear speaking. In 1989, I remember watching the footage of the Loma Prieta quake. I remember the 1994 Northridge quake.

But the kicker for me was the 1987 Whittier Narrows quake. It was an experience I will never ever forget. It happened at 7:42am on October 1st. It was a 5.9 whose epicenter was a mere 15 miles from us. Three days later there was a 5.6 aftershock. One person died when he was caught in a landslide. One person died at CalState L.A. when a concrete slab fell on her. There were 5 more indirect deaths.

I was in 7th grade. School started at 7:50am. My first period was P.E., so I was in the locker rooms under the gym, changing my clothes. Because of the time, pretty much everyone was on campus, but not in their homerooms yet. When it hit, I was literally standing on one foot trying to put on a sock. At first, I sincerely thought I was going to pass out, ’cause the room started spinning. I though, “Oh God – how embarrassing.” Then the tiles started falling off the showers. Then the lockers started falling into each other like dominoes. I got hit in the head by one. We ran out, and ran over to the football field. That was a bit difficult, as since we weren’t in our homerooms, the teachers didn’t have any attendance rolls yet to determine if anyone was missing. I had no shoes or socks on. Another kid from my class (also changing for PE) had no shirt. We sat on the field and watched aftershocks come through like ocean waves. When parents started coming and the group was smaller we were moved to the cafeteria. I remember when we moved, Mr. Kissell, my Algebra teacher, carried me. I was barefoot, and there was broken glass everywhere. We watched, as hazmat crews came, looking like astronauts, due to all the spilled chemicals in the chemistry labs. We watched as people in hard hats came and taped off parts of the school with caution tape due to structural damage. One boy broke his leg after falling down the stairs. When the group was just a few of us, they moved us to the office.

Finally, my sister-in-law came and picked me up. She just had a feeling I was still there, and popped in to check. That was around 2pm. I burst into tears. I had spent all day there with no sign of my parents. When she took me home, my mom was there all nonchalant. “Oh, you mean they closed the school?” “Oh, you mean the lack of electricity, phones, and major earthquake wasn’t a CLUE?” First, she went out to check on my grandmother, then just went home, figuring the school would take care of me. I’m still bitter. We have had a couple of emergencies at my kids’ school, and I have been right there, front and center, every time. I never ever want my kids to feel the way I did that day. Abandoned, scared, and worried that my family was dead. Because why else would they not come and get me? It had a profound effect on me.

Then, of course, there was the Station fire, which started in our hills and turned into the largest fire disaster recorded in Los Angeles County.

My point is… Be prepared. Have a meeting place, both near your house, and away from home. Have food. Have water. Know how to turn off your water, gas, and electricity. Have a solar or crank radio so you can hear what’s going on. Think about what you would need to cook with, bathe with, etc. if you have no utilities. Have a pack ready for evacuation. Educate yourself. Prepare yourself.

We have two emergency 3-day, 4-person backpacks. One at home, and one in the truck. Food/Water, blankets, first aid kits, gloves, tools, glowsticks, emergency radios and more. I’m slowly building my water supply and freeze dried food supplies. We’re pretty prepared now for 2 weeks. I want one more week, and then I’ll start preparing for more long term. Bulk food that can be made without power sources, seeds, and more in case something REALLY bad happens and we’re on our own for longer. One problem we have in our area is that if our water gets cut off due to damage or something, we can’t drink the water here in wells. JPL’s rocket testing in the 40’s and 50’s contaminated our ground water. They’re cleaning it up but they anticipate another 30 years before that’s complete. So – we’re definitely stocking on water, as we don’t have a local source other than what comes through the tap. These are the things I’m talking about. Think. Prepare. Prepare for your local area, your local/personal needs.

Are you prepared?

Sickened and Scared

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I have alluded to this in the past on the blog, but I’ve never come out and said it before.  Since it pertains to my reaction to the story I’ll share with you, I need to state it clearly.  I am a rape survivor.  I was raped twice, and (just) physically beat up once.  I survived.  While I’ve dealt with most of the crushing issues that come from surviving, I do still deal with certain ongoing ramifications.  Some examples… My husband is the only person on this earth who can come up to me from behind and touch me, and me not react negatively.  He’s the ONLY person I can show physical affection for and receive physical affection from easily.  In reality what does that mean?  I have to work exceptionally hard at showing physical affection to my children.  I have to fight very hard to never wince or cringe when they come up from behind me in the course of our daily life.  I have to fight very hard to not withdraw from them when they physically reach out to me.  I have to mentally prepare myself before friends see me, as they will expect (rightfully so) hugs.  Before we visit my best friend, I have to give myself a talking to that her husband will not hurt me, he loves me, he likes me, and he will touch and hug me.  His love for me is due to his accepting me in his life as part of his wife’s life.  He has no interest in me physically, and he loves his wife.  These are things I have to tell myself so I don’t elbow him through his nasal cartilage, while simultaneously trying to gouge his eyes out with my fingers.  Because he put his hand on my shoulder while handing me a  drink.  My children deserve my affection.  My friends deserve my affection.  Physical affection is healthy.  I know this and so I work very hard at it every single day.  And I think it’s working, because my children and friends come to me for affection, nurturing, and love.  I’m successful at fighting and scratching against myself to give them that.  I’m OK with doctors, I think due to the rubber gloves.  But many doctors will use their bare hands for breast exams (I think due to sensitivity issues) and I cry every time.  But I’m trying.  It’s a process.  A long one.  My assaults happened before I knew my husband, and I’ve been married for 12 years.

Warning to my conservative Christian friends, the link I’m about to give is to a Pagan news service.  Just want to warn you.  I found this story.  Go read it.

Now that you’ve read it, think about what it means.

Think about sending your children through the scanners.  Think about the enhanced pat down if you refuse.  If this becomes the norm, I’m truly unsure I’ll be able to fly.  After talking to my husband, who is incredibly protective of me, he said, “I think I would have to drop anyone who thought putting his hands on your tits is OK, other than your doctor.”  He understands what this would mean to me.  You could also say, “well, go through the scanner!”  One, there are radiation issues.  Kind of like a doctor.  Once every blue moon is fine, but beyond that, you need the lead drape.  What about the frequent travel fliers?  At one time I was flying twice a week for three months.  And I know many who travel even more.  Two, it’s an invasion of your privacy.  In front of everyone in the security line.  I thought the body scan would be like an Xray.  Very impersonal.  I saw the exemplar.  I could see his penis very clearly (and his love handles).

The whole thing scares me for oh, so many reasons.

At dinner tonight, we’re having another discussion with the kids about our privates, and who’s allowed to touch them, and for what reasons.

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