And now for the coming attraction

Just wanted to let everyone know that I am starting a new blog. The title is "What's up f*ckers?" And it's all about things that just plain irk me in some way or another. I figure this way I can keep all things sunshine and daisies and the miscellaneous stuff here, and the mental debris there. I'm told my ranting and raving can be comical at times, you be the judge.

Same bat time, same bat channel

There is something to be said for the invention of the telephone. Without it, moms everywhere would suffer psychotic breaks a lot more often. It's a little after ten o'clock and I just hung up the phone with one of my far away BFFs. We talk nearly every day. Sometimes it takes 15 separate phone calls, (like I said we are moms), to finish a conversation, but it works for us. We talk about God, we talk about kids, we talk about random, we talk about food, we talk about it all. We have perfected the art of the subject segue and of having two conversations at once. We honed the ability to hang up, and then an hour later continue the conversation precicesly where it left off. We actually got good at this in high school. You know, back in the dark ages before three-way-calling. She had friends from another city, and they would call often, and I would wait. I completed many a jigsaw puzzle this way.
Much like my conversations I'm already off subject. What I was getting at is this. If it weren't for knowing at 7:00 p.m. free minutes start and we can hash out our very random days and then try to forget them by talking about lifes many other funnies. Plus, she says fuck as much as I do. Sometimes it's more drama from the world around us, than not. But we always laugh at least a couple few times. And laughter, after all, is the best medicine.

Phoenix's weekend

We went to our friends house this weekend for a sleepover. On Monday Phoenix was introduced to sidewalk chalk. Well, actually he got sidewalk chalk for his birthday from his Godmother, but alas, we have no sidewalk. He promptly laid right down precisely where he had just colored. If you know anything about me, you are laughing at the discomfort that you know I was in. Anyway Jen sent me two pictures of him in his nice chalky, brand new sweatshirt. Damn it.

Heartbroken

Twelve years yesterday. The wound is still fresh. I am wrecked, my faith is wavering, and the straw is getting heavy. My father needs surgery, by brother is dying, two days ago one of my aunts died, and then came yesterday. Maybe it's the broken tooth's abscess draining into my bloodstream, maybe it's the fresh memory of family and friends. But my heart aches with a sadness that I cannot even find an analogy for. I prayed to my God last night, I begged him to help me find my way, to find peace, to find whatever it is that I need to find. I begged him to let me see. ..if he is giving me signs, I am blind. I am so emotionally overcharged, that I'm afraid my sadness will start jumping into other people. I apologize if this post is neither the happiest, nor the most coherent.

No pictures please

Okay so I have learned there is at least one big difference in the way birthday parties are celebrated in Washington and California. Or at least between my family and Mike's. At my parents house there were so many cameras and video cameras, it was reminiscent of entering our junior prom. There is documentation of all his presents, all his guests, and of course every single mishap that could have happened. Here, I made a perfect cake, and there is no evidence. No pictures of presents, or Cassady and Phoenix playing. Albeit it was a much smaller shindig, I still would have liked a pic or two. By the way, the Thank You cards are coming soon I promise!

The dead spot.

Six years ago this November my urologist told me I would never see thirty, because well, I have the kidneys of an 85 year old man. There was talk of donor lists and maybe someone in the family will match. I chose to keep these conversations pretty much to myself after it was obvious that no one took it seriously. My brother turned off the phone when I was calling from the hospital at 4:00 a.m. to say that my scheduled surgery was now emergency surgery. This was the second time I got this reaction when I called. The first time was in 1998, my very first kidney stone, though I didn't know it at the time. It was the start to the long and crappy story that is my kidneys. Why are we talking about this now? Well because it's my blog and it's about what I'm feeling, and what I'm feeling is a ball of numb where my right kidney should be. Now for damn near six years I have thought the doctors probably don't know what they are talking about. I had good insurance then and kidney replacement is a huge chunk of change for a surgeon. Whatever reasons I made myself believe that "it couldn't happen to me" do not matter much now. Back then I had no son, and it is for him that I am now sad. For a week or so I've got to hear about a man who is in the hospital suffering from renal failure and diabetes. I feel horrible for this man. But it also makes me feel happy for him, he has a huge support group of people who he knows love him. And if he dies, it will not be alone. I keep hearing about this man, and what I want to say is, "How can you be so sympathetic to him and not to me?" We have the same damn diseases. I've been in renal failure TWICE. And you know what I don't care if this sounds like a pity party, it's my right to feel the way I do. I am not asking for the world to feel sorry for me. But I am asking a little understanding right now. The state of his health scares the shit out of me, because it could BE me. Don't you see the similarities? Don't get me wrong, I am not afraid to die. But I finally have something to live for, Phoenix. And I don't want to miss a single second of his life.

SUCCESS!

On the 8th of August we had a little shindig for young Phoenix's soon to be second birthday. For this occasion I tried, and failed, to execute a structurally sound cake. In fact, it was California by the end, complete with fault lines. Against my better judgment I used a cake from a box, or rather 4 boxed cakes, but that didn't seem to be too much of a problem, except for the fact that the cake on the bottom was made with a different brand of cake mix than the top. I figured they were all the same, but oh no. Let's not even talk about the pudding filling that ended up more soupy than I'd like to admit. *grins* But at least now it's funny...even the part about the well meaning friend who "helped" me get the wide based palm trees stuck in the cake. I was going to chop the base off, but I got my first fault line instead. Oh well, they tell me it tasted okay. A. even tried to prop the one side up with a pan, which someone of course, immediately felt the need to move. My mom's refrigerator had blue/brown frosting all over the back wall of it by the time it was done. Thank you to whoever cleaned that up by the way. In the end when my mom chopped the rest of the cake into kinda squares and stacked them haphazardly on a plate, they looked the best. Ah well, at least nobody was there to see that.
Today I have Mike's parentals and his best friends coming over to celebrate Phoenix's birthday which was Tuesday. HAPPY BIRTHDAY SON! He's two, or thoo if you ask him. So I thought I'd take another whack at it. And viola! it actually came out. My ocean looks like an ocean, complete with mottled blue coloring. Go me! My island is an island and the palm tree is not 3 inches into the middle of my cake. And the best part, NO FAULT LINES!, Well as of yet. I'd love to take a picture, but I can't because I blew up my camera a few months ago, but that's a whole new post.