There is no place like home..

After a long stay away, caring for a sick loved one, I miss my kids. That goes without saying. But besides missing my children- who have worked really hard to make things work while I am away, I have been surprised each day by the things I miss about being home. 

I love my house, the place I call home. Eight years on, it is not perfect, but it is perfectly me… And I miss it.

I miss my cozy bed and soft sheets and dark walls that help me sleep. I miss my quiet street with low traffic volume.

I miss my cats. Especially the cuddles in my lap.

I miss my giant recycle bin on wheels.

I miss my pull-out nozzle that I use to rinse the dishes. I miss my super deep granite double sink. And my dishwasher. I really miss the "sanitize" function on my dishwasher.

I miss my glass top stove, and how easy it is to clean. I miss my professional grade pots. And my ice maker- I really miss my ice maker. I actually bought Ice today.

I miss my beautiful bathroom that is perfect and beautiful.

I miss my DVR full of all the shows I love and my library full of books.

I miss my teapot and stock of Irish tea.

I miss a first floor with no steps up or down.

I miss having the thermostat at a temp that is just right for me.

I  miss my recliner where I can read as I sip a hot cup.

I miss home.

Sitting vs. squatting in public restrooms

Public toilets are an area of great divide. This week, Kristen Mae wrote a plea to women to just sit down.

I agreed wholeheartedly with what Kristen said- her complaints are complaints I have often voiced myself. How hard is it to clean up after yourself? How can you justify leaving a gross mess behind for somebody else to clean?

Then I read the comments, where more than one woman suggested we should all squat because they feel no obligation to clean up after themselves.

WHAT?

I swear I am not making this up.

A quote from Katie: (edited to eliminate profanity)

"hell no. no way. i try to wipe the seat after myself but i dont always. and you couldnt pay me to sit on public toilet seats. im 20 weeks pregnant, still squattin strong. squat or die b@#$hes! "

When someone responded negatively to her comment, this woman went on to say:

"if you would actually take a minute to read what i wrote, i said i try to clean up after myself. and so what if i occasionally leave the seat dirty? maybe you should have some standards for yourself and not sit on public f@#$%ing toilet seats. sicko."

So what if I leave a seat dirty? Seriously?!? So I and women like me are sick for expecting this woman to not leave puddles of her urine on a toilet seat?!? Is that really too lofty a goal?

What about the females not physically capable of squatting over a toilet, Katie? The small children, old ladies, disabled girls? Should they be expected to clean up your mess because they can't squat like you?

How sad that this woman feels entitled to leave her soiled mess for someone else to clean up. Katie, you are part of the problem.

hell no. no way. i try to wipe the seat after myself but i dont always. and you couldnt pay me to sit on public toilet seats. im 20 weeks pregnant, still squattin strong. squat or die bitches! - See more at: http://www.scarymommy.com/why-women-should-sit-down-on-public-toilets/#sthash.8EVksz06.dpuf

hell no. no way. i try to wipe the seat after myself but i dont always. and you couldnt pay me to sit on public toilet seats. im 20 weeks pregnant, still squattin strong. squat or die bitches! - See more at: http://www.scarymommy.com/why-women-should-sit-down-on-public-toilets/#sthash.8EVksz06.dpuf

hell no. no way. i try to wipe the seat after myself but i dont always. and you couldnt pay me to sit on public toilet seats. im 20 weeks pregnant, still squattin strong. squat or die bitches! - See more at: http://www.scarymommy.com/why-women-should-sit-down-on-public-toilets/#sthash.8EVksz06.dpuf

When teachers are human.

I have tremendous respect for teachers- they are right up there with cops and fire fighters doing amazing work you could not pay me enough to do. The vast majority of my teachers were amazing. They worked really hard for what was really low pay (Catholic school salaries) and I am grateful to all of them.

I read an article today about a teacher who bullied a student, and I thought about a math teacher I had in High School. Not a bully. A tough teacher who picked on me. Nothing was done like what the teacher in the article did (and in the interest of full disclosure, I was no darling in those days either) but it made life harder than it needed to be.

But my story has a satisfying ending:

I missed the start of the school year due to an extended holiday so when my uncle came to America for the first time, he would not have to travel alone. I arrived for my first day three weeks later than my fellow classmates. (In fairness to my parents, there was a teacher strike for some of that time, so the class time I missed was significantly less.) I was a decent student and figured I would catch up.

The math teacher gave a chapter test on my second day back, and I got a 47%- which I thought was pretty good considering having only a day to learn the material. Have I mentioned that math was never my strong suit?

Anyone who failed the test had to stay after school and correct it using the textbook and class notes until they achieved a passing grade (70%) so I was there for a while. When I finally finished and the teacher reviewed it for accuracy and gave me permission to go, her parting words struck me.

"I guess that will teach you to stay in Ireland."

As the school year progressed, Math continued to be a struggle. I failed the first semester with a 67%- the first time I didn't earn at least 2nd honors since I started High School. And I really got the feeling she picked on me. I dreaded going.

But maybe she picked on everybody and I was just more sensitive.

"Nope," my good friend Frank assured me at lunch one day. "She is definitely picking on you."

So it wasn't all in my head. And really, there was nothing to do about it because I didn't want to be moved to a different class.

This was an amazing teacher- I struggle with advanced math on my best day, and this teacher was able to deconstruct the hardest problems so that we could see how to proceed and get to the answer. Other friends taking the same course with a different teacher were struggling and we would face state exams at the end of the year. We had to know the material. I stayed put and worked to improve my grade and learn the material.

Things came to a head in the Spring. I was in school with a low grade fever because I was on attendance probation and could not miss any more days. When I got to Math class, I was struggling to follow along- it was warm in the room (A/C was not a feature at the school) and at some point I set my head down on my desk.

I got detention for sleeping in class.

Okay.

I got to the detention room after school, set my head down on the desk, and was told by the moderator that I was not going to sleep there like I had in math class. I struggled to stay upright and serve out my hour, knowing it would take an hour and a half to get home.

My math teacher arrived and pulled me out of detention to speak with me about my poor attitude. We went into the resource room and  once inside this person lit into me about being disrespectful. I answered that I wasn't trying to be disrespectful, I just felt sick.

Why had I not just stayed home?

I explained I was on probation and had to come no matter what. Which brought up the Ireland issue again. Our argument was taking on volume as it got more heated. I was told how I thought this person was a bad teacher and I interrupted.

"I have NEVER said you were a bad teacher, I would NEVER say that. Everyone knows you are the best math teacher in the school. I said you picked on me. Because you do- from the start of the year." 

I mentioned how my friends were struggling and worried, but how I felt confident I was in decent shape to pass the state exam. But I was picked on in class to the point that other students had noticed.

The year moved on towards summer. Class was better- it was still math but I didn't dread it. I sat for my state exam and felt confident leaving when it was over.  I ran into my math teacher and was asked how the exam was (our own teachers were not permitted to proctor our exams) and I said I was sure I had passed. I was congratulated- my teacher was genuinely happy for me.

I was happy for myself- this tough teacher got me through my last year of high school math and because of my state scores, my college exempted me from Math 101.

NASCAR so far 2015

Bullet points after week two of the 2015 season: 

The Sprint Unlimited went to Matt Kenseth.

Budweiser duel one went to Junior, and Jimmie won duel two.

Jeff Gordon won the pole at Daytona.

Joey Logano won Daytona and the pole at Atlanta.

Jimmie ended up started in 38th and still taking the checkers. 

And all that is awesome, but NASCAR made quite a few headlines for all the wrong reasons:

13 teams could not get through tech at Atlanta in time to qualify, leaving Gordon, Jimmie, Matt Kenseth, and Smoke at the back of the field. 

Travis Kvapil's car was stolen and by the time police found it, his team had to withdraw from the weekend's events. 

Kyle Busch has a broken right tib-fib and a broken left foot after slamming a cement wall during the Xfinity Series race at Daytona and will be out for we have no idea how long- my best guess is another 13-14 races, coming back mid June. It could have been so much worse... On the plus side- he will be home with his baby after he/she is born in May. Get well soon!

And of course the HUGE NASCAR story is the indefinite suspension of Kurt Busch. 

My bias about Kurt Busch is due to Ryan Newman being bumped (No room for a fourth car) and the Gene Haas starting a 4th team to hire Busch. Not nice at all. Rocket Man is a class act and took second last year (What do you think of me now, Gene?) but I still didn't like it. 

That said, something smells bad about this indefinite suspension. Last I checked, Kurt Busch has no charges pending, he has not been indicted, so why the suspension? 

Tony Stewart had a grand jury deciding his fate and he was allowed to race. A good thing since he was never indicted.  Because it was an accident.

More importantly,  in January of 2014, Travis Kvapil  PLEADED GUILTY to the charges of misdemeanor assault and false imprisonment as part of an agreement that will dismiss the case after he completes two years of probation (at least one year of supervised probation) and 72 hours of community service. He had to pay $460 in fees and court costs and must attend an anger management class. And what did NASCAR do to him? 

He is still racing. 

So let’s review- 

Kurt Busch- not even charged yet, but suspended indefinitely.

Travis Kvapil- guilty of DV assault on his wife, on probation, but racing as long as nobody steals his car.

What a difference a year makes.

Travis Kvapil’s crime was before the NFL screwed up with Ray Rice when he beat his fiancé, now wife. Kurt’s came after.

I do not know what happened between Kurt and his girlfriend- that is for the court to decide. But how on earth, NASCAR, is it okay that Kvapil is on the track? He actually said he did it. Where did you sanction him?

Cancer

So it is never a good thing when a loved one has cancer. And it is never a good thing when the cancer has an unusual presentation. Hearing that chemo and surgery would not be done because they would not be curative is just heartbreaking.

CANCER.

And finally, to be told the radiation that is starting ASAP is unlikely to result in a cure... You listen, you hear the words the doctor is saying and write down the key points- 9 weeks of radiation, 5 days a week- but at some point you just stop processing the meaning of the words.

CANCER.

Planning is done, appointment are made and things get started before it even seems real. Seeds implanted, images taken, all the "stuff" is started- paperwork for FMLA, travel arrangments. Who will go and when.

CANCER.

You talk to friends and tell the family. You pray. For everything. Freedom from pain, a cure that is unlikely, a lack of side-effects, the absence of fear, peace with whatever the outcome is. Because it is not about you, your fear, your pain.

CANCER.

Please pray for our family. Thank you!

Love

"Love is not a habit, a commitment, or a debt. It isn't what romantic songs tell us it is - love simply is." ~ Paulo Coelho

 

Defining love is hard. Quantifying love is a challenge. Some folks don’t understand that when I love, it really is forever.

My family, first foremost and ALWAYS. They center my universe.

I still love my friend whose grave I first visited in 1981…

My old flame from college… still has a place in my heart. I still think of the fun and happiness he brought me and smile.

The boy who broke my heart in 1993… still I pray he becomes the man I know lies within him…

It is as though the potential to love grows each time I embrace a new person and say, “I love you”…

Or say goodbye to a loved one who is moving on… out of my life…out of my reach…

I embrace their chance at happiness… even in the absence of my own…

The child who is mine, but not really. Who has grown into a wonderful person with his parents and siblings, surrounded in love.

I maintain friendships that started in grammar school, high school, and college… I am often the one to call first… to touch base…

My love for all of them just is.

And as a result, I know that when I am in need, doubt, or huge trouble, I can pick up the phone and ask for help, advice, or a small dose of sanity.

Because real love just is.

Dating Hiatus

I have not been on a date in 2015.

I am no longer dating because I am no longer looking for a life partner. I need to find contentment in life as a single person. Because that is what I am and will likely stay, if statistics are to be believed. And I don’t want to date just to date. It is too much work with little reward.

Someone recently mentioned she thought I was still waiting for the guy who broke it off with me years ago. That I would go back to him if he asked because I still love him.  She is partially right.

I don’t date because of him, that is true. But I am not waiting for him, would never date him again. And my reason is simple.  I could never trust him again. He is no longer worth the risk. When I think of him, I am filled with sadness. I loved him utterly, completely. I trusted him with all my darkest places, my deepest fears. I was vulnerable in front of him and trusted him with my whole heart for over three years.

Wasted time, as it turns out. I was a complete fool. An idiot to believe that he was mine. That he loved me. That he was “all in” like me. 

Now, I know the truth. I was a place keeper. Good enough “for  now”, but not “forever”. In the words of Sophia Wu, he treated me like an option, not a priority. He was gone the moment he had a better offer and never looked back. And the first indication I had that something was wrong was him walking out the door after saying goodbye. What the hell is wrong with me?

How had I not noticed? What had I missed? What about me made him leave? These questions haunted me for a long time. I grieved and cried and hurt in my soul, trying to find nonexistent answers. I was in a really bad way for a really long time, and it felt like I would mourn forever. My poor bruised heart ached for a future that was never real.

Now that time has passed, a new set of questions haunt me.

I don’t date because I still don’t know the answers.

How do I ever let someone else in? How do I know if they are truthful when they tell me they love me. How can I believe again? Open up again? Start over? I am afraid to trust my feelings again after being so terribly wrong because I am still the same person. I am not convinced I can do any better now than I did then.

I feel like part of me is broken and I don’t know how to fix it. I am not sure I want to try.

I cannot live through the heartache again. And I don’t trust myself to be any better at figuring out what is truth than I was all those years ago. I don’t trust myself to tell the difference between “for now” and “forever”. I am just not willing to risk it all again.