I’ve been in trouble all day - with my daughter – even with Buntah. Not sure how I managed to be such a pain since I was in my room half the day.  All I can think of is that after all this time, all these years, I still haven't cracked the "Teenager Code".  I’ve been driven from my dining room, out of the kitchen and the object of a pout over unannounced but ‘claimed’ none-the-less, chicken. But it started with M&M's.  As I walked out the door last night to go to the grocery, I asked er if there was anything she needed.  Chocolate.  That's it, chocolate.  Oh, and chocolate ice cream.  Not a problem.  My feet were hurting, I was anxious to get home and ice them, M&M's - big bags - were on sale.  Yes!  A bag this size will last two girls for a week!  got home, produced the M&M's and got, "Mom, I don't like M&M's."  How can anyone not like M&M's?  It's unthinkable.  Fine, more for me then.  BUT, this morning as I was walking into the kitchen, Piper and I passed, "THANKS Mom!" 

"For what?"
"For the M&M's!"
"But you said last night you don't like M&M's!"
"I don't."
"That's why you have a handful?"
"I can't stop eating them, they're addicting!  Now I'm going to get fat," and she breezed along on her way, M&M's and all.

We don’t have TV.  So when we want to watch something that’s been on TV – CSI, House, Modern Family – we have to do so on our computer which just happens to be in the dining room.   Normally, every other night of the week, it’s “Hey Mom, do you want to watch this episode with me?”  Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t.  This last week, since she’s been on break from school, it’s been a Modern Family marathon – we both just saw it for the first time this week.  LOVE Modern Family, makes us laugh out loud.  Today, she has MF up and running, I have a few minutes before I have to switch laundry, so I mosied on over and sat down next to her.  She was tolerant for a minute then turned and looked at me, “What are you doing?”

“Watching Modern Family.”
“Why?”
“Uh, because I like it.”  Then she growled and turned her attention back to the screen.  Time to switch laundry – done.  I came back and sat down again to watch some more, “NOW what are you doing?”
“Watching Modern Family!  What’s the problem?”
“You always do that.”
“Yeah, so what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you ALWAYS do that.”  I was confused.  Of course, I always do that, we’ve been watching Modern Fam. all week together, I didn’t get it. I finished the episode, she went in her room to listen to music, I went to my room to ice my feet.  An hour later, she’s back at the computer watching Modern Family – COOL!  So I joined her.  Again with the exact same conversation as twice before.  Wow.  So I just walked away.  A little while later she came into the kitchen, “I don’t get it Pip, we’ve been watching Modern Fam. all week long together.  YOU introduced me to it. I LOVE it. You love it. What’s the problem with me watching it tonight?” 

“You just don’t get it Mom - before I INVITED you to join me.”  Hmmm.  Well, I don’t have to be invited into my own dining room.  Watch me kid, I can go in, I can go out, I can go in, I can go out.  That’s what I felt like saying but decided ignoring an idiotic fight was better.   I continued to do what I did, and she continued to roll her eyes and act like I had cooties.

Next- the chicken.  She likes to cook pasta and mix it with pizza sauce and canned chicken breast.  She usually makes a ton and when she’s finished she leaves the empty dirty bowl on the counter till I ask her to move it.  Same scenario today, she cooked, she ate, she left her bowl – for half an hour.  Only this time she only ate half and left half a can of unused chicken on the counter.  I came along.  I was hungry, we had pasta, so I put the unused chicken with the pasta, added a ton of parmesan cheese and I ate it.  Pip's "criminal activity alert" radar went off big time. She came into the kitchen as I was swallowing the last bite.  “What are you eating?”  She looked around, “Where’s my chicken?”

“Your chicken?”

“Yeah, MY chicken.”  I wanted to say – well your name wasn’t on it – but I didn’t.  I decided to be more mature.  “Your dirty bowl was sitting here, I thought you were done and didn’t want the rest - I ate it.”  I thought her eyes were going to shoot out of their sockets.  “I wasn’t done with it!  I was taking a break!”  Oh of course, taking a break - huuh?  “I’m sorry, I thought you were done.”

“Great Mom.  You ate my chicken!  I can’t you believe you just ate it, you should’ve asked me first, you always assume stuff.”  I wasn't going to fight over half a can of chicken OR regurgitate it so I put my bowl in the sink and walked away, back to my bedroom and put my feet up.

Get this – even Buntah was mad at me today – or she just didn’t like me.  She’d been sitting in her Townhouse watching me the whole time I was on my.  I finally asked Piper to hand Buntah to me.  Pip got her out, brought her to me and we made for the hand – off.  Buntah would have nothing of it.  She scrambled to stay on Pip’s hand every time we tried to pass her between us.  Pip even called Buntah such a cute “Puffy Person” (how come she gets away with calling her that but I can’t?).  We tried again, and again, and again.  No good.  Buntah was staying with Pip.  I was a teensy bit hurt so I played it up.  “She doesn’t love me anymore,” I whined.  Piper looked at me dead on, serious face over Buntah's serious fac and said, “That’s because you ate my chicken.” Then two of them turned with their snoods in the air and walked out of my room.

It's late - or early - depending on how you want to look at midnight.  I'm tired.  Ginger is laying by my feet snoring softly and dream twitching, her back leg draped over mine, she's so cute.  Buntah was a little nuts, I was going to let her chill with me while I did this post but she wouldn't sit still or stay off the keyboard so I put her to bed.  Last time I looked, she was hunkered down in her water dish, all you could see were her eyes and nose above water, she's in alligator mode.  You know, if anyone would have tried to tell me a year ago that toads had personality and enjoyed being social, I never would have believed them. This little Buntah is something else.  After she wakes up from her nap, she likes to be wherever the rest of us are and will beg at the side of her house to be let out.  She also has a sleepy face - I swear, she does!  She has a little morning face just like anyone else, it's so cute.  I could swear sometimes she even rolls her eyes at me.

Piper's been sleeping on the couch in the living room since we put the Christmas tree up. I don't know why - and neither does she, I asked her.  I figured she'd get tired of it by now and go back to sleeping in her room. Nope. Maybe she will if we take the tree down.  Yeah, I'm weird, my tree is still up.  We left it up once till July!  Switched out holiday decorations on it as they changed so people would think it was planned that way.  St. Patty's Day was pretty dull, green on green, no fun at all.

We've had a couple of beautifully warm days.  Trees and flowers are blooming.  There's a tree on the corner that smells so good, I like lingering in the smell zone as long as I can when I'm out with Ginger. Big surprise - my orange tree that I've had since Pip gave it to me for Christmas in 2009, is suddenly blooming.  We've been dumping Buntah's soiled water in it daily instead of just tossing it.  Whatever Buntah does in that water, my tree loves it.  The first blossoms have fallen off already and left little round pea sized green nubs in their places. If I can keep the birds away maybe we'll get fruit! Next I need a tangerine tree. No, a Peanut M&M Tree! 

_ Tonight was my 9th water aerobics class.  Last week I switched from the class in the shallow end to the class in the deep end.  I can’t hit my hurting feet on the bottom in the deep end.  I also can’t cheat in the deep end.  Hadn’t thought that one through thoroughly.  From outside the pool, the basic exercises look the same.  It is a LIE.  They are not.  In the deep you meet, and engage, your CORE.  Lanell (name changed to protect the innocent), our instructor, makes sure of that.  Apparently my CORE and I have been estranged for decades.  I’ve also been re-introduced to my OBLIQUES.  They must have been on vacation with my core.  Lanell is tough.  Lanell runs a water boot camp!  “Get those knees up - higher!”, “Back straight, engage those ABS, tuck those glutes!, “Switchbacks – 10 more, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!  Scissor kick with cross over water punch, here comes the interval (interval means as hard and fast as you can) GO! GO!”  And I’m there, huffing and puffing and floundering about trying to keep up.  She watches.  She encourages, “Nice Cross Country Stride there,” but she doesn’t let up.  Her smile is kind, but her smile is also, “Heh, heh, heh, NO MERCY.”  This is good for me.  And Lanell can do a Barrell Roll like nobody’s business!  Sixty years old and she is kicking MY butt!

 Others in the class are graceful.  I am not.  Others in the class know all the moves.  I do not. All my life I always thought I knew how to do a Jumping Jack.  Did you know it can be done in reverse?  I didn’t.  But it can be.  Not very well by me yet, that’s where coordination fails me. So far the ladies have been very kind.  They smile and say I’ll get it eventually.  I sincerely hope that is the case.  I do not enjoy looking the fool.

My favorite part of water class is the last three to five minutes.  After the splashing and thrashing, while we’re slowly and quietly stretching at the wall, the water goes calm.  I have a hard time staying with the stretch routine.  I like to just hang there, vertical like a buoy in the water.  I love feeling weightless.  I love feeling no pain.  I love being still, feeling my body immersed in water.  I love looking down, way down and seeing nothing between my feet and the bottom below.  It feels like floating in the air! What a thrill!  You don’t get that kind of thrill in the shallow end.  Oh, and I even got the otter hands – you know, the aqua gloves with webbed fingers to create resistance.  I smile to myself when I see them paddling around in the water (I have a thing for otters).  Since joining the deep end class, I look forward to going.  It feels magical.  I like that kind of magic.

_ 8:00 a.m. Thursday – cold, drizzling and windy.  Oh boy.  I’d be walking to the bus stop in less than an hour.  Maybe, just maybe the temperature would increase 20 degrees, the wind would stop and the rain would cease and desist before I had to leave.  Not too likely, but hey, with God all things are possible right?  So I asked The Omnipotent One for a weather reprieve just long enough to get where I needed to go.  Then I worked my way through my morning routine.  I’d leave 10 minutes early since the pain in my feet slows me down. 

8:50 a.m. – still cold, drizzling harder, still windy. Note to self – ‘talk to God, find out what page He’s on for my life plan’.  It seems we’ve been in different chapters for decades.

I grabbed my jacket, an umbrella, said Good-bye to Ginger and Buntah then limped off toward the bus stop.  Came around the corner and, damn, there was my bus, three blocks ahead of me pulling to the stop - 12 minutes early!! Frickin, frackin, growl and groan, I’d never make it!!  Now what? Go back home and wait for the next one? At least I’d be out of the wind.  Yeah, but what if the next bus was early too?  Our bus drivers have a loosey goosey interpretation of ‘schedule’ adherence. I grumbled some more then gimped onward.  Let’s look at this.  I left early to make the bus on time.  The bus is early so now I’m late.  I’ll be late for babysitting and now my friend will be late for work – but at least she’ll be warm and dry.  By the time I make the last mile and a half to her place after getting off the bus, the ice packs I brought for my feet will be thawed and useless.  The baby will be awake from his morning nap and ready for action – making the use of the ice packs impossible anyway.  I’m cold, I’m wet, my feet hurt and the wind keeps changing direction, driving the rain every which way.  I want to sit down but the bench is wet.  If I sit on it, the only dry spot on my body will get wet – and cold.  I don’t fancy a cold wet rump.  My nose is runny and I have no tissues.  Further, Mother Nature has decided to call and there are no ‘services’ here.  If I limp to the store across the street to use their services, I risk missing the next bus. It could be early, it could be late – give or take 15 to 30 minutes either way.  Now what?  I do the only thing left to girl in this situation.  I cower in a corner against a building and send a ranting text to everyone I think will sympathize with my misery. I didn't bother sending one to God, figured He was off line this morning.  Three of my Homies were at work and couldn’t fully share my angst.  My Sweetheart responded, tried to cheer me up – bless him for trying – but then signed off with “have a good day”.  He wasn’t trying to be funny.  He really meant it.  I laughed, fought off tears and laughed some more.

How did the day end?  Pretty much like it started, cold and windy.The rain stopped right AFTER I reached my destination The baby didn't take an afternoon nap so we had plenty of play time. Heading back to the bus stop, my heels hurt so bad I id the last half mile on tippy toes. Halfway from the bus drop to home my leg started cramping.  By the time I walked in the door I was nauseous and dizzy from the pain.  A fast piece of bread and Vicodine for dinner, a kiss and a pat each for Piper, Ginger and Buntah then off to bed before my sour mood wore off onto the others.  Ginger joined me.  She always knows when I need a love.

Never had that conversation with God, at least not yet. There’s a sticky note on my bed post reminding me to do just that. I can't take too many more days like this one.

Think I need a Weather Man Code Translator.  I'm sitting at my computer, just read "Partly Cloudy" all day.  Looking out my window, hmmm . . . . . . . . that looks like RAIN to me.  Had to test it, went outside, cold, wet - yep it IS rain.  Checked the five day forecast "Partly Cloudy" for the next five days.  Wonder which partly cloudy?  The kind where sometimes a cloud moves between us and the sun or the kind where we get rained on.  Or maybe the kind where there are no clouds?  It's only a bit of a concern now since I'm back on foot today.  Have to walk several miles in whatever "Partly Cloudy" weather we have.

Saturday - our last day of being a free roaming grown-up (that's funny, before I corrected the spelling I'd typed 'groan-up', I confess, I am groaning inside but I didn't think it would come out so obviously), Piper and hit up two matinee movies. We saw "The Iron Lady" with Meryl Streep, went to lunch then went back and saw "SafeHouse" with Denzel Washington and Ryan Reynolds.  Both good movies.  But the best, very best part of our day was next.  Because we could actually get there, we went to a favorite spot of ours.  A tiny little park three towns over low on  the mountains that skirt our city on the southern side.  Giant Eucalyptus trees, Spruce, Palm, Ponderosa Pine, Alder, Oak, Coastal Scrub Oak and several other tree variances I can't name.  It had been "Partly Cloudy" - the wet kind, the whole time we were in the theater so the earth was wet, the trees, the benches, hand-railings, bridge over the little river, playground equipment, wood chips on the playground - all of it was wet - and it smelled soooooooooooo GOOD!!!  The kind of joyous smell that fills you up and floats your spirit about.  We took tons of pictures, wandered, Pip climbed the playgrounds, commenting on how things had shrunk - (must have been the weather) then we just settled in and soaked up our surroundings.  I don't know how many of you can feel the environment around you, but I am especially environmentally/energetically sensitive, Pip too only not quite so as I am.  This park FEELS good.  It always has, just has good positive vibes.  I used to bring Pip here several times a week years ago when we needed to feel the shine inside.  Would have been making regular trips this last 16 months if we'd had the way to get here (this spot is beyond where the buses go).  Most excellent place for meditation. 

Anyway, Piper ended up sitting on the edge of one of the hammocks and swinging.  This is the spot she always gravitated to.  I finally settled on the other hammock on the other side of the rope igloo.  And there we sat.  Sitting and swinging and swinging our legs over the sides.  No conversation - we didn't need any.  We just absorbed.  Gentle breezes rustling the tallest of treetops above us, squirrels racing across the grass and shooting over tree branches, the gurgling little river, the clouds high above turning from grey tinged with white, to white, to pale yellow, to golden tinged with pink then finally full blown, in your face, Hot Damn burning flames of sunset.  Then the fire went out of the sky.  Still no words, jut total complete contentment and peace.  The damp chill began creeping at us from the trees.  "Hey Sweets, how ya doing?"  I thought I'd better check in and see how my daughter was doing.  "I'm good," said she.  "You?"
"I'm really good."  A few beats later she declared, "my toes are numb."
"Yeah, mine too."  A few more beats later, "my fingers are numb." 
"Yeah, mine too."  Then I asked her if she was ready to go.  "Are you?" she countered with a question.  "No."
"Neither am I," she said.  We smiled at each other and ourselves and continued swinging.  This exact verbal exchange, with the exception of "I'm just so content," happened twice more over the next two hours.  Yes we were there till way past dark and way past feeling in our outer appendages. But for the first time in I don't know how long we felt happy and a peace and gracefully, excitedly alive.  We walked back to the car slowly, kicking up damp leaves, sliding our feet along the slippery boards on the bridge.  We paused to take in the sound of the water one last time before returning to the concrete world we're tethered to. 

Coming down the freeway, there's a down slope - our city glowing and filling the entire valley - was laid out before us, golden lights glittering, the glow reflected in the cloud cover.  It was a beautiful sight.  "This makes me happy," said Pip. And that was all that needed to be said.

 

_I have to give the car back to my friends this weekend. Back to buses, bumming rides, fatigue and hours and hours of wasted time.  Not to mention getting soaked when it rains, lugging heavy groceries all over the place and having my daughter out there on the bike again. This is going to be tough.  Know what?  This is too depressing, I don’t want to talk about it anymore. “Winter Spring” is what happens when winter doesn’t and Spring jumps in for kicks. 70 degrees outside, sky is summer blue, birds singing and singing, flowers and trees blooming everywhere and that miserable urge (only miserable cuz I can’t get to it) to go to the beach. Nice, but at the same time, feels like something went missing from the grand scheme of things. I’m fairly confident the cold rains will be back once I’m on foot again – and no, I’m not a pessimist.  I just know, it still being the month of February, we haven’t seen the last of winter.  I also know I WILL be on foot for the rest of it. 

A word about Buntah – apparently, she took offense at being called a “Chunk Puff”.  And she was right about me, I have chunked out myself in recent months – easy to do when you’re in too much pain to exercise and you’re so depressed the only thing that feels good is grazing on comfort foods.  So . . . . . . I apologized to Buntah for the offense and tried to explain that what I said was a term of endearment.  “Chunk Puffery” is cute on a Toad, especially one as cute as her.  “Chunk Puffery” is not so cute on me.  The good news is that since I’ve had access to the car, I’ve been in a Water Aerobics class consistently. If I’m able to find a way to stay consistent, the “Chunk Puffery” will diminish.  I’m also pleased to say, our diet has been healthier and the cravings for comfort food minimal since working out and being able to get around.

Now, a word about Water Aerobics, I always thought the WA classes were for sissies.  Unh – uh.  Those little old ladies are kicking my BUTT!  WA is one serious workout!  There’s a different instructor every night so the routine gets mixed up.  One night its, “Let’s start with some deep breathing and some slow deep stretches.”  Next time its, “This aint no Pansy class – you girls should already have stretched so let’s get TO IT!  Now double time and LIFT THOSE KNEES! Hut, hut, hut!!  MOVE IT!!”  Did you know its possible to perspire while in a pool (thank GOD for chlorine!)?  And if you’re ever really curious about just how uncoordinated you are – one class will show you. It’s embarrassing. Some of those moves Man, are COMPLEX.  So complex they can’t be classed ‘moves’ – they’re MANEUVERS.  The ‘Barrel Roll’ – ever done one? Don’t know why they call it that, looks NOTHING like a barrel rolling around in the water – especially when I do it.  But the important thing is, if you don’t do it right, you’ll strain something.  Something else to keep in mind if you’re considering taking up WA – in the beginning, you will look like an idiot, but so does every one when they start out.  Stay close to the newcomers – you’ll look like you know what you’re doing.   

Great Super Bowl Gentlemen!!!  I have to say Pip and I were rooting for the Patriots and were disappointed with the loss, but WOW - GOOD GAME!!  I enjoyed every agonizing, suspenseful, exciting second, right down to the last.  A game played like that is a thrill to watch, no matter who wins.  Athleticism and teamwork at its finest, mmm, mmm, mmm. Congrats to both teams for a job well done and congratulations to the Giants on their win. 

Next time though . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Short post tonight since I'm exhausted.  Pip and I  are, um what you'd call, "PASSIONATELY INVOLVED SPECTATORS" - couldn't keep our butts in our seats or our mouths closed if they'd been Super-Glued down and shut.  Being emotional eaters, and watching the game on big screen from a pizza/bar/grill, with a large and equally passionate crowd, we plowed through salads, cheese sticks, several Pepsi's and one pizza.  We left hoarse, ears ringing and bodies still humming with the thrill - high fiving and knuckle knocking total strangers - "Next time, next time" head nods and finger points all the way to the car.  We agonized over crucial pivotal plays all the way to hot fudge sundaes.  Pip needed to have one happy ending today so we just finished watching "The Game Plan" (with Duane 'The Rock' Johnson).  Drained and finally pacified we are heading for bed. 

I love doing this with my daughter!! 

_ J.T. Gaskin, 17 year old high school senior living in Burton Michigan.  What's so special about J.T.?  He's been suspended from school.  Why?  Well it wasn’t for drugs, bullying or possession of a weapon.  He’s not violent and poses no threat to any student or faculty member.  THAT would make sense. What J.T. has done is to violate a dress code policy concerning the length of a boys’ hair. Now here’s the rest of the story.  He is growing his hair out to donate to "Locks Of Love".  J.T. is a cancer survivor.  He knows the difference having a head of hair can make to someone battling with the disease, especially children.  He is in remission and wants to do what he can to ease another’s burden. J.T. has compassion and true empathy. He should be encouraged and supported - not stomped on.  And certainly not kicked out of school.   

Spokespersons from Madison Academy insist this isn't about his 'cause’. They say their issue is with the hair appearing unkempt.  It's clean, but currently is 2 1/2 inches long a bit unruly.  Well yeah.  Anyone who’s ever grown their hair knows it goes through a funky stage before it gets long enough to control.  I say, let him grow it out.  In a few months it'll be long enough to pull back into a ponytail slick as you please.  Girls do it all the time.  Why shouldn't J.T. be allowed the same privilege?  High school is hard enough - I know, I have a 17 year old daughter and had three more before her. Can we focus on getting the bullies and drug dealers off campus please? Suspend the person who is a potential threat to my daughter - not someone who might inspire her or others.  Talk about it. Give other students the opportunity to express their own humanity.

Looks to me like this is a clear case of PRINCIPLE versus POLICY.  And so the opposing sides dig in for battle.  J.T. - I'm on YOUR side.  Fortunately so is his mother and many others.

Madison Academy says they'd like to see J.T. come back to school.  Nice of them.  I'd like to see support of the greater good over 'policy' on this one.  J.T. has offered the Academy a couple of reasonable 'adjustments' to this particular hair policy so that standards and principles can both be served.

As of today, February 01, 2012, no compromise has been made or considered and J.T. is still on suspension.                

Read the full story for yourself at the following link: http://news.yahoo.com/blogs/sideshow/school-suspends-cancer-survivior-teen-over-hair-plans-160537479.html

You can support this young man by signing the petition on his behalf.  You’ll see a link for that early in the story.