Caption Contest!!

It's Friday so that can only mean one thing; The Contest!! This week's contest is HEADLINE. Have a great weekend!!

Being a Mom

Could have used this on Mother's Day....
~~
We were sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of starting a family. "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking, "Do you think I should have a baby?"


"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. "I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."


But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.


I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.


I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.


I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.


I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.


However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.


I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor. My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.


I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike. I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.


My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.

HALP!

Can someone enlighten me on how to get a slide show to work here? I have two albums in Flickr and Photobucket but I can't figure out how to get them from there to here.

KWIM, Vern?

FYI

I've discovered something about Blogger that I don't like already; when you save something as a draft to post later, the date you publish is the date you ORIGINALLY wrote the piece, not when it gets published. I just posted some items from Spaces so I can do sidebar stuff, so the previous few posts are reruns if you read them on Spaces.

Things You Probably Didn't Want To Know About Me

1. I'm 6'2"
2. It's a curse, really
3. I have a 34" inseam
4. Refer to #2
5. My nickname is Tree
6. No, I didn't play sports in high school
7. I was a band geek
8. I was born on Christmas
9. It wasn't my choice
10. Please don't ask me what it's like to be born on Christmas
11. I love the smell of Play-doh
12. I'm a Respiratory Therapist
13. So is my mom
14. I really did go away to college for two years
15. My original plan was to get my degree in Japanese
16. That obviously didn't pan out
17. My mom was one of my instructors in school
18. No, it wasn't easy
19. I love being a mom
20. I broke my pelvis in two places after being bucked off a horse in 1999
21. I still ride
22. And still delivered my first daughter vaginally
23. I've had two sexual partners in my lifetime
24. Ok, that's a lie
25. There was a one-nighter when I went back to college to visit friends
26. Ryan was drunk and I was paranoid
27. I'm sad when the NFL is in off-season
28. I think the West Coast offense is too advanced for college
29. I still don't like LED Christmas lights
30. I used to weigh 262 pounds
31. I've lost 55 of that
32. Now I'm back up there after Mallory being born
33. I need to work on that again
34. I love my husband
35. I'm discovering Christianity
36. I think I'm a bit OCD
37. And bi-polar
38. And paranoid
39. I like a good German wine
40. Along with a slab of Nebraska beef on the barbie
41. My husband doesn't know how to operate a charcoal grill
42. Therefore, I am the grill seargent of the house
43. I enjoy gardening and landscaping our yard
44. I'm also the groundskeeper
45. I don't really think I'm that interesting
46. I'm trying hard to not become my mother
47. I've made progress in some areas
48. I've always wanted to be a veterinarian
49. I love working for my boss
50. I actually look forward to coming to work
51. I prefer winter over summer
52. I used to play the trumpet
53. I was a DJ at my college radio station
54. My dad committed suicide December 13th, 2004 - two days after my daughter's first birthday party
55. He was dying of lung cancer
56. By the time it was found it had already metasticed to his brain, liver, kidney, and adrenal gland
57. I like to flirt
58. I like to listen to Classical music
59. I like to listen to Eminem
60. I like to listen to Smooth Jazz
61. I've seen Garth Brooks in concert
62. I've met Mandy Patinkin
63. I will see pretty much any movie that has Morgan Freeman in it.
64. I like sushi
65. I love the smell of my girls after their bath
66. I lost a friend in a drowning accident in 1987
67. I was the last one to see her alive
68. I still blame myself for her death
69. I have the memory like a beartrap for pointless trivia
70. Thanks dad!
71. I have one older sister
72. She made the rest of look bad as she completed her PhD
73. I support our troops
74. But I don't support President Bush
75. I'll probably get a wire tap now as I'll be deemed a terroristic threat
76. The Princess Bride is one of my favorite movies ever
77. Monty Python was genius
78. Legos rule
79. Hockey is more interesting to watch in person
80. My dad and daughter look the same at about 10m of age
81. My dad and daughter have the same eye color - grey green
82. I don't punch like a girl
83. I'm stubborn
84. I let my pride get in the way
85. My parents divorced when I was 8
86. I don't think kids ever "get over" a divorce
87. Meredith Brooks' "Bitch" is my theme song
88. I'm glad my 20s are over
89. I have 3 tattoos
90. They are all in non-private areas
91. Two of them are the Blake and Farrington coat of arms
92. The third one is a tree with the Chinese symbol for "tree" underneath it
93. This last one was in the process of being lasered away
94. It really hurts to have it lasered
95. I don't ask for help enough
96. I hit a car full of nuns
97. One of the nuns knows my mom
98. I can't stand a dirty windshield
99. At the pump, the dollar amount has to be in whole dollars, no change.
100. Refer to #34
101. My dream car is a '57 Chevy Bel Aire
102. I was held up by gun point at my part-time job when I was 16
103. I very much remember seeing 6 silver points of the bullets pointed at my gut.
104. I'm a wood worker, of sorts
105. All my shop machines are MINE, not Steve's
106. I make pens and other things that can be worked on a lathe
107. But pens are the main thing
108. I took French, Japanese, and Russian in high school
109. I'd like to learn how to play the cello
110. I'd like to learn how to play the bagpipes
111. I'd like to learn how to fence
112. I think I enjoy Dove Dark Chocolate more than Hershey's
113. My daughter and I were baptised on May 21, 2006
114. I've been bitten by a toucan.
115. I've been peed on by a snake.
116. This list is longer than I had thought it would be
117. I still don't think I'm that interesting, even after this list

Dying With Dignity

This was written on December 13, 2005, one year after my father's suicide (in 2004)...
**
The following is going to be me rambling on so there might be a lot of bouncing around as I try to get my thoughts out with no real continuity. I've been dreading this day for quite a while, trying to decide if I should blog this or not. Well, here's your answer. Just bear with me....

It was one year ago today that my dad was found dead in his condo, just two days after Jenna's first birthday party. He committed suicide with his shotgun that he methodically sawed off the barrel for the better part of 3 weeks. He was dying of lung cancer. He was 66, far too young. I only had 30 years with him.

I've been quiet all this time, telling people that my dad died of cancer, wanting to protect his dignity. And not wanting people to look at me differently because my dad killed himself. There is such a sigma that goes with suicide. We know why he did it. Everytime I saw him he was becoming more and more a ghost of himself and I know he saw that in my eyes. He was trying to protect us. He didn't want us to watch him waste away. He knew his time of independence was running out and he didn't want to be a burden. In his case suicide was a noble, yet cowardly, act. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I didn't get a chance to tell him it was okay if he wanted to die. I was getting ready to.

My dad and I didn't have the greatest or closest relationship. My folks split when I was 8. Sure I saw him every other weekend, but it wasn't the same. I tried to distance myself from him, tried to convince myself I didn't need him. Case in point - my wedding 8 years ago. At the rehersal dinner dad presented me with our wedding gift and a manilla envelope. In the envelope were his funeral plans. The gift? The cordless phone we asked for. Ok fine. He signed his card, "Call me, Dad." Not "Congrats, Dad" or "I Love You, Dad" but "Call me, Dad." So those two things really set the tone in my head. Now comes my wedding. Here he wants my sister and I to sign onto his bank accounts should anything happen to him. For my sister, I could understand as she lives out of state. But wait a couple of weeks for me, this is my wedding!! His gift card was his idea of a very poor joke. He got us a phone so "call me." I didn't see the humor in it until much later. This was the way my dad was. Once he got an idea in his head, the blinders came on. He sense of timing was about as poor as his humor. This was when I started to back away and to distance myself from him. And this began the process of discovery as to why my parents split.

Then when I found out I was pregnant, I had mixed feelings. I knew my dad would be back in my life.

I had called in sick on the 13th after a mild bout with GI crud. My mom came over the night of the 13th to tell me dad had died, but didn't tell me how. My first thought was "My God, he died alone." Even though we weren't close, I didn't want him to die alone and afraid. I remember telling my mom that dad couldn't kill himself, that wasn't like him. She just looked at me. After asking her three times she finally told me how. I was in utter shock and disbelief. I still can't comprehend the desperation he must have felt. I'm sad that he felt he needed to do it this way. And that he was sucessful.

After a bit I went to email everyone that my dad had died. Many of you may remember that email. There was no mentioned of how he died. Most of you knew he had lung cancer, so I left it at that. Knowing I wasn't going to be at work the rest of the week I decided to change my voice mail message. There was one message on my phone. From dad. From the morning of the 13th at 1041.

"Kris, I want you to call the police. By the time you get this message I will have taken my life. You have no idea the pain I've been suffering. You have no idea what it is like to walk in my shoes. I'm so very sorry. Goodbye."

I have never made noises like that before. Steve came rushing downstairs to find me with the phone my hand, hyperventilating. That was his suicide note that the police couldn't find.

After going through his desktop calendar, he had written "Today" on the 13th.

What would have happened had I been at work and answered the phone? Or if I came back to my desk minutes after he called me?

I found out later that he bought a box of shotgun shells just before he went back into the hospital right before Thanksgiving and after he got out a receipt was found for a hacksaw. He was found in the bathtub in his underwear with the shower curtain closed, to minimize the scene. Unfortunately his girlfriend, Kay, saw enough to know what happened and called my mom after the police. Why her? Because Kay wasn't physically able to call me. I'm sure the police found that odd - the girlfriend and the ex-wife hugging and consoling at the crime scene.

He toughed it out until Jenna's birthday. It saddens me that with everything she accomplished in her first year, he wasn't here to see her second year.

I had his condo cleansed before we sold it. Even though his death was planned it was still tragic and often time spirits get caught in between here and there. I needed to make sure dad was where he needed to be. So with the help of my good friend, Dawn, she helped me release the energies of him. In his bedroom was a test shot from his gun into the outside wall.
Yet, I still feel that I didn't do enough for him, to visit him more, to go to his doctor's appointments. I should have done all these things instead of feeling obligated to be at work. Maybe he would have been on some better pain medication and he didn't have to resort to this.

I never liked his oncologist, Dr. Lemon, at Methodist. But my dad liked him and had his trust so I couldn't do or say anything to break his confidence. But at the same time my dad grew up at the time where you don't question what the doctor tells you. Hindsight is 20/20 and it blows.

His death certificate didn't say enough. "Cause of death: Shotgun wound to the head." It didn't say he was dying of cancer. It didn't say that his death was related to smoking, just that he died from a shotgun wound to the head.

I went through a period of deep guilt and had to go through counseling. I'm still not satisfied with my actions and I'm not sure if ever will be. It felt disrespectful to get on with my life after he died, like I was abandoning his memory. I feel that today, being here at work.

We had a memorial on December 18th. He final wishes were to be scattered in northern New Mexico along his favorite scenic train line, the Cumbres & Toltec out of Chama, NM. Dad would spend 1-2 weeks volunteering his time to help refurbish old train cars and restore the line to its Glory Days. I didn't appreciate his enthusiasm 10 years ago. Now I wished I had paid attention.

In August 2005 Steve and I met my sister and her BF in Chama to scatter him like he wished. I had been in contact with the train line as well as the volunteer organization, The Friends of the Cumbres & Toltec. Dad had a favorite engine, 488, that was being restored all the years he had gone down there. Turns out she came out of restoration this past spring and got her scheduled to pull our train up to Osier, CO.

The Sunday we were there Steve and I decided to walk to the yard to meet up with some people to finalize everything. We were coming down the driveway of the yard when I literally skidded onthe gravel. There, right before me, was 488 getting ready for her task in the morning. I've never seen her, other than in pictures and in pieces. I don't know why I didn't expect to see her there. I instantly teared up.

The morning of the ride we also got a paper cup and put some of dad's ashes in there, then tossed them into the firebox. What better tribute is there than to be blasted from the stack of your favorite engine up the valley? I tied on some roses to her as a tribute. It had been 20 years almost to the week since dad first brought me to Chama to ride the train.
It was a gorgeous day, sunny and 70s. Chama is usually dry in August, being of higher elevation. But there had been some recent rains and everything was green and blooming again. Cumbres Pass is a routine stop for water. We detrained to scatter his ashes with some wildflowers, then toasted him with Champagne. Joni and I tried to send him off the best way we knew how. At the half-way point we had lunch and the second train from Antonito CO, met us there. The two engines then swapped trains, so 488 kept on to Antonito and 487 took us back down to Chama. The last image of that day was seeing 488 across the valley steaming away, having done her job. It was one of the hardest, yet uplifting, days of my life. I've included some photos from the trip in the slideshow.

It's gotten a little easier, but there are days when it hits me out of no where. Dad has come to visit me at least once that I know of. He's visited Kay at least once and my mom about 5 times. Thank you for your time and for letting me get this out. And thank you for your understanding.

Weekend Wrap-up

Caption Contest!! This week's winner is Stacy with her, "Why didn't I listen to Mr Wonka? He told me not to eat those candies."
~~
Good weekend to report. Saturday mom came over to watch the girls whilst Stevie and I went to a movie. *gasp* I know! Alone, even! We saw Indy IV; good movie, a bit far-fetched. I left feeling a bit empty. I didn't think there was enough action compared to the other three. Eh, but we did have a good time....ALONE! WOOT!


Lisa (my SIL) is having surgery today for her cervical cancer. Steve went home this afternoon after church and will be back Tuesday sometime. So yesterday while Mallory napped Jenna helped me hang more chicken wire on the deck for the clematis to grow on. Then we brushed out Thursday and trimmed her nails, all of us took a walk, I scrubber out Jenna's pool and got it ready for the summer, grilled some chicken and turkey, gave Jenna a bath, put Mal down at 1900, played Candy Land and read to Jenna; left her room at 1930.


I think my arse is leaving skid marks! Should've taken some ibuprofen....


Now I'm in a conumdrum. Spaces has let me back into their graces. Here's what happened. I did a caption contest back on APril 18; old, over-weight topless woman with angel wings. Not pretty. That's what got me booted off; partial nudity. I figured they'd let it slide as it wasn't pleasing partial nudity. But alas, I was, once again, wrong. I get this little nervous tic with the term "investigation" gets tossed out. I deleted the posted, said I'd read the Terms of Use again (ha) and my site is back up. Now I'm not sure what do to; keep Spaces or Blogger. I'm still trying to figure out what I can do wtih Blogger whereas I know Spaces pretty well and I like my set-up with Spaces.

Perhaps I'll post something quick on Spaces and re-direct people here......