Comeuppance

I called my parents today and apologized for being 14. After he stopped laughing, my dad asked what my oldest was doing to prompt the apology. Mostly, it was being 14!
My mother especially appreciated hearing about her grandson's latest 'tude. She has been waiting for my comeuppance for years. I'm certain that I was probably as mouthy, arrogant, and generally maddening as The Teenager. I also KNOW that I was not as bad as she makes out. (To hear her tell it I snuck out every night to get drunk and high. Actually, I snuck out ONCE and got grounded so long that I never did it again. --It's a good story, I'll tell it sometime-- I never did get drunk or high while I lived at home.)
So here I am, on the other end. This was the age where I began to develop my poker face. (If you laugh while your psycho-Christian mother exorcises you, it JUST MAKES THINGS LONGER!) So I know that he's not listening. He's thinking about girls, sports, girls, or the way his friend threaded a gummy worm through his nose and out his mouth. I keep speaking because I know that SOME things do get through, occasionally. We even have meaningful conversation at times.
AHH, 14.

Tooting my own horn

MWAA ha ha ha ha ha.

I'm not COMPLETELY technically unfit! SEE, SEE. I changed the sidebar titles. Superdedooper proud of myself here! I even added a link!

Someday, I may even add.....

PICTURES!!

I'm a bit overexcited now.

Going to rest with a cool cloth over my head.

Disjointed adoption story

I had this in edit mode, not certain if I ever wanted to potentially share this with a bunch of strangers. I decided that this was basically an online journal begun because a friend posted something private and I was grateful to know her better. So, potenials, here you are, a glimpse of a place not many people go.

I visited my sister and my biological mother Sunday. I've only known them for 2 years. I haven't seen them in quite a while, so I was a bit afraid that we would have to rebuild and things might be awkward.
Not so. It was almost like the last year hadn't happened. I'm not certain what a "normal" sibling relationship is like, but seeing her is like seeing an old friend. Comfortable.

My reunion story is a pretty and short one. I've heard they can be rough and REALLY LONG. I certainly wouldn't recommend anyone looking if they were not in a very comfortable, stable place in their life. I was, and it still was harrowing. One day I wanted to know RIGHT NOW. The next I was unsure. When I finally found someone who may be related, I completely lost it. I cried because they might be. I cried because they might not be. They were. I experienced all sorts of emotions that I can not begin to describe.
It was my sister. She had started looking for me in 1999. I found her post on a page listing my birth date in the right city. It also had a birth name, which was nothing I had seen before. (I had a college stats course that came in handy there. I crunched numbers and figured that we had a pretty good chance of being related.) Then came the day I FINALLY received the confirmation. If I had stayed with my biological family, I would have been Treva. I like that name. Irish and unusual. (I look so darn like a fraulein that I would have never guessed!)
At first, before we got confirmation, she sent pics. Her and her mom. I was certain that these people were NOT related. (Hubster reserved judgment. He went into MAJOR protective mode!) They looked nothing like me! I sent some back. They were certain we WERE related. Turns out, we do look quite a bit alike. Good, cuz she's pretty cute.
When I met them, it was so weird. I looked like someone. I had, when young, searched stranger's faces for recognizable features. Now,I had someone's knees, hands, eyes! It was the first time that had happened, and it was amazing. The medical history was amazing, too. No more telling my doctor that "I don't know, I'm adopted".
Turns out, we had very similar lives. She is a year younger, to the month. Rough childhood. Hers was worse. I felt bad that our mom hadn't given her up, too. She always wished that she had been adopted out, too. We both went through a weird early twenties phase of extremes. We both ended up with 3 sons. We think a lot alike. We both felt gratitude that our early years had shaped us the way it had, because we like who we are now.
My mom is a lot like my biological mom. Other than that, I can't comment here. It would feel like a huge betrayal to both of them to tell strangers of their issues. Suffice it to say, they both have a few. I've learned quite a bit about myself and what NOT to do from both of them. They also both have good qualities that they have passed on. They each have a special place in my life.
I feel very fortunate to have found them. I'd like to be closer to my sister. We missed the adolescent fighting and sharing of clothes. We missed clinging to each other when neither of us had anyone else. I don't want to miss anymore.

Last Laugh

I knew it would happen. I used to joke about it: punk chick’s kid is going to end up a football player. Well, former punk chick’s kid announced his intent to play football next year. Here we go.
It started innocently enough with basketball a few years ago. He enjoyed it. It gave him an outlet and some new friends. (Girls were included, I am betting!) I attended as many games as I could, remembering the longing I had for my own mother to attend the baseball games I played when I was 10.
This year he added wrestling. I was just beginning to understand basketball a bit. (They have different names for the players: point guard, etc. They all look like they run up and down the court and try to make baskets to me.) Well, let me tell you, wrestling is a mystery to the uninitiated. It involves throwing people down, that much I have figured out. Oh, and the pinning thing is pretty obvious. Otherwise, I’m pretty clueless. I sit in the stands and let my stomach clench in horror/anticipation as my son throws people around or is thrown around. 3min or less then it’s watching other kids. UGH. (Maybe if they had some cute coaches in the tight little suits things would be more interesting.)
After the wrestling season, he decided to run track. He says he doesn’t like it, but he came in 3rd in his first meet. He’s using it as an endurance preparation for next year’s football season. So, here I go, off to the track meets. At least I know what is going on! (And I’ll be able to take Barley!)
OH CRAP! I’m pretty certain I used to joke about him having a cheerleader girlfriend and I’m pretty sure fate has a really sick sense of humor. Maybe I can get them to dye their hair school colors. Looks like I’m off to stock the bathroom with hairspray.

Gold Guilt

There was a time when I had an extreme penchant for the tacky. It amused me. I particularly loved the 70's gold gilt candelabras, shelves, and clocks. I knew they were ugly. They worked well with the eclectic modern poverty that graced my houses and apartments. I collected these wonderful works in the old punk days when I lived with my best friend from high school. This is the woman I met on Halloween as a young teen, too cool for costumes. By the end of the evening we had exchanged clothing behind a car somewhere. We were fated to be friends. We lived together for over 5 yrs and went through some ROUGH times together before I got my act together and moved on.
Well, Friend hasn't gotten her act together and moved on. She's pretty much stagnating. Maybe even regressing. She has this amazing potential: she's a wonderful artist. She also has a way of drawing people in and making them feel special. She's charming in her punk rock, uneducated way. One of the most TRULY nice, good-hearted people I know.
The situation that she chooses to remain in creates more ROUGH times. I feel terrible that I can't help her. My example of returning to school and landing a good career isn't helping. My words ("Responsible doesn't mean grown-up.") don't help. Any actions I take don't help. I try to be supportive when I see her, but there is guilt in that, because I certainly don't support her lifestyle anymore. Usually after I see her I am saddened for days, so I let more time pass before I see her. Guilt. Yesterday, I had to call her mom for her address, because I had lost her completely. MAJOR GUILT. I've finally come to terms that there is nothing I can do. I can't save the world; I can't save my friend. I only can change me and my thoughts.
Hubster and I are in the middle of a major house remodel. Basement finishing. We had the huge dumpster and were happily dumping when hubster found a box of the gold gilt. He was about to happily dump when I noticed. This is an area of my past that he absolutely can't live with. I have a problem just throwing stuff away. (Goodwill junkie past.) Realizing that no one in their right mind is going to buy 70's gold gilt from Goodwill, I decided I had a better idea: gilt will be joining the guilt. There is one way I can be a good friend. I can still offer some fun and light in her life. The plan is to run over one day while she's gone and gilt the apartment. I'll be leaving the guilt behind as well.

All Hail S. Morgenstern

Well, we just jumped off those cliffs of insanity. (If you got a visual image of a certain movie, I’m pleased. Even better, if you saw a page number. (Thanks again DC, for introducing me to Morgenstern.)

We bought a puppy.

Like paid money for an animal when there are so many dogs needing a home? Yup. Unapologetically. I don’t want a needy animal that cringes every time I gesture or raise the volume. I have children that I won’t sacrifice to an animal of unknowns. I also wanted a particular breed, known for its ability to become a member of the family.

Barley will be joining us sometime in early May. (About the same time we should receive our new extravagant furniture. See, already the gods laugh at us!) He’s an English Mastiff.

When I met his dad, Tigger, he came and laid his serving platter size head in my lap. I was immediately enchanted. He weighs 250 lbs.

We are about to have an EXTREMELY large puppy.

I’m trading the crumbs on the floor for dog hair and slobber. In return, the younger kids get a big, rompy sibling. The oldest one gets babe points when he walks it. We get a family-orientated 250 lb. friend who will give us some piece of mind when the kids are in the yard.

I'd like a piece of mind.