Well thought out, yet expensive plan

Hooray! We are all under one roof for one night. The big kid flew home yesterday morning after arriving at the St Louis airport at 3 am for a 6 am flight. He decided to stay in the terminal rather than a hotel room for three hours. After picking him up at the terminal, he had a few hours to sleep before visiting Yoda, his PT.





At 4 pm, he was meeting with Yoda who cleared him to play ball. And the smile returned to his face. His demeanor changed and he is ready to throw. Yahoo. I mentioned to him, 'you know....your body will always hurt, so you have to adapt to it.'

"Yeah, I know." OK....so let's chat.

I decided to work on one issue per meeting. So, I tackled the fall....

"Uh, since your are returning to campus this fall, I see that you have no where to live. Do you have any plans?"

"I am going to live on campus in the dorms."

Huh? The dorms? You mean the 'hell holes' that you HAD to escape from after your freshman year? Seriously? Good!

His rationale is multifaceted and seemed to be well constructed.

1. I hate driving in the snow.
2. It takes me 30 minutes to get to class from my apartment
3. I can walk to class and not drive
4. I can walk back to my dorm after working until 2 am in the library.

Hmmmm. This is a good plan, albeit, not cheaper. In fact, the dorms that he will live in will probably cost more than my mortgage. I love the way that he thinks.

By the way, dad has said for years that he receives 4 years of tuition, then he is on his own. "Nope, not paying for it. No way."

Here is my prediction....after the guys talk tonight about future plans, dad will open his checkbook and fund the last year at school. He will complain and moan since he really wants to save for his retirement, but he will do it.

Why? 'Cause, he loves the big guy and when the kid comes to him with a carefully considered plan of action, dad funds it....whether it is living on his own, Illinois, Ohio, travel money, and so on, dad opens the wallet.



Now, let's talk about BPM....I have 1$ in my wallet and have been shut out of the automatic teller for the last few days due to lack of funds. Do we have money? Sure, but we try to live on a budget rather than savings, so we sacrifice....OK, 'sacrifice' is a pretty big word....perhaps 'tighten up' is a better one. I can get money out of the bank whenever I need it. Fortunately, Betty gave me a Starbucks card and a student gave to me a Dunkin Donuts card, so I have coffee...which is the most important beverage of the day. Yep, more important that boxed wine. There....I said it. I am not a wino but need my fix of caffeine each day. So it goes....and so he will go....

But first, we have an afternoon party at Scooby's for BP Grandmom and Grandpop's 59th wedding anniversary and Lil A's 12th birthday. I am sure that the family will be happy to see the big guy or will they be happy to see the chocolate and regular cheesecakes that Lil A and I baked on Friday? Time will tell.....

Off to Pilates!

Peace!

Westward ho

Good morning! It's time to hit the road and take in a few baseball games. Yep, Tink, dad, and I will point the car west and take the turnpike and not stop until we hit Pittsburgh. Why Pittsburgh? I dunno....dad picked it. Tomorrow, we continue the journey until we arrive in western Illinois. Fun, eh? I will probably be the person saying 'when do we get there?' Remember those days in the back of the station wagon?


 

I do...actually, if you are a regular reader, you know that my dad drove a VW beetle and we had 6 kids. In those days, there were no seat belts, an AM radio, and no trunk except for a small spot in the front of the car.

 


We squeezed in and sat in one small spot for hours. No one could blame me (except my siblings) for getting car sick and being tossed by BP grandmom onto the side walk to vomit. I believe that there is a sign on Lafayette Avenue in Conshohocken dedicated to me as the regular spot where I generally threw up on the way to Bullpen Great Grandmom's home.

 


Also keep in mind that there were not functioning windows in the back of the Beetle and no air conditioning, so we were in a little bug that had no ventilation. Did we complain? Nope, we did not know any better until we got older and saw that other people had bigger cars and did not have to sit on the back seat floor. Imagine our surprise when the folks finally bought a station wagon and the back windows opened. It certainly smelled better in the back and the amount of my car sickness dropped precipitously.



Sorry for the review of history....back to today's journey...Tink is in charge of the snacks which include...yes...the big bag of Skittles that is in the pantry, granola bars, pretzel goldfish and water. I have not touched the Skittles since our last trip....Weight Watchers does not even have it on their list of points. What about our peanut butter sandwiches? Well, dad does not travel this way and won't eat them, so we will probably stop at a Chick fil-et (the only fast food place that I will eat in....although I do eat Skittles...yes, I am a bit of a food hypocrite on this one).

 


Last night the team won after coming from a 6 run deficit in the 8th inning. Now, the big lefty's college team never would have come from behind to win. They did not have that fight in them. Although my theory is....the opposing starting pitcher was taken out in the 7th and the bullpen could not keep the lead. Just a theory....

With that said, I got to finish packing and getting ready for the dog walker. Judy loves Diva....Diva loves Judy....but Diva loves Tink more and will go into some kind of depression while Tink is gone. Although, something is up with our Diva. She now has the cone off her head yet she has not perked up and no longer jumps up and down when I arrive home. Is she angry with me? Was it the cone? She has been sleeping most of the day and does not have the energy she once had....Perhaps it is the fact that her hair is too long and matted. While she had the cone on her head, the doctor would not let her go to the trimmers. So, our Diva looks abandoned.

 



Not wanting to traumatize her since her entire body is going to be shaved next week, I contacted one of those mobile dog groomers who will come to the hose next Wednesday morning to groom her. I know that he will shave the entire body. Fortunately, Tink can stand with the dog while the groomer gets rids of the matting. Oye!







OK, time to go....



Peace!

Paying the Price

Good morning! The sky is blue; there is a breeze and chill in the air....a perfect day. Although today is day 3 of Diva Dog's illness. She has been queasy, anorexic, with vomiting, and has diarrhea...Oy, on Saturday, I actually considered buying another dog. If trying to get the mess out of Buddy's carpet has not dissuaded me, nothing will. And so, my pretty little dog that I wanted to bring home with me named Dusty will have to find a home with another family. 'Cause right now, I am on my knees trying to clean up the poo and vomit. I barely recovered from yesterday's veterinarian bill, yet if the dog does not feel better by the end of the day, I have to go back for round 2 this afternoon. I need doggie health insurance. Will there be a co-pay on the plan?

This morning dad received an invoice from last year's summer baseball team. It seems that my son, a college student, refused to return his uniform despite a number of requests. He was angry with his treatment from the summer and chose a passive aggressive way of demonstrating his militancy by keeping the jersey. Normally, I do not get involved in these things, but I have a few photos of the former blow-up companion Irene wearing the jersey for parties (a party frock, if you will) and Angel wearing it to barbecue the burgers. I am sure that it rests comfortably on the bottom of a pile of clothes in the closet or being used as a dust rag (doubtful).

The invoice is quite sizable and dad is a bit peeved (this is the Rated PG version). The owner of the team sent the note that said that since Buddy could not "find" the jersey to return, he had to pay for a new one. This makes sense although we paid over $600 for the privilege of sitting in the bull pen holding sunflower seed spitting contests. Further, we paid to live there, food, rent, and so on. This year's bill to play ball in Maryland was less than half of that amount. Are baseballs more expensive in Ohio?

Now the big leftie is going to have to do something about this invoice. I am not paying it. Let me be very clear....I am not going to pay to replace a jersey that is sitting on  blow-up doll in a college boy's apartment. OK, one more time....this bill is my son's and if he has to work in the bakery 24/7 until it is paid, then so be it. For the last time, and I am very sincere.....I pay the water bill, gas bill, mortgage and college tuition, but I will not pay for doll clothes. I don't ever recall my Barbie's wardrobe starting at $250.00. Not ever...

This leads me to share one of the articles that I read this morning online. Each day, I start with the coffee and reading news on my iPad. As I reviewed the headlines, a link looked interesting entitled: "Six ways to ruin your children." After hearing about the jersey's invoice from the Ohio version of George Steinbrenner, I clicked on the link thinking that I ruined my kids. Here are a few of the six mistakes:

1. Give in: Parents are afraid if they deny a child's request for something, they will not love them. OK, if I caved in every time my child asked for something, we would be living in a box over a vent in the city. They didn't just want candy or sodas...they wanted it all...action figures, game systems, expensive games, fancy jerseys, hot sneakers, and so on. Sorry gang, the money tree died after Buddy was born. There was a hurricane that came through and our money tree blew away with my Porsche and Mercedes.

2. Lack of discipline: A parent should set consistent rules with consequences. explain why misbehaving in unacceptable. Once again, the rules would vary based on the situation. No one can have consistent rules, 'cause the kids are creative in misbehaving. One day they would be vacuuming broken eggs, then next minute there is baby powder all over their bodies, the bathroom, and bedrooms. Other creative ways of rule-bending would be half truths or no truths at all. Not completing homework, being late for school, fighting, and not listening to a parent or teacher. How can  a parent be consistent? One infraction is not the same as the second or third. There are levels of rule-breaking, so I need a chart and say to them: "OK, you have a potty mouth. According to my graph designed by my personal actuary, the consequences to your action is three days without your action figures and bedtime at 8 pm and not 9 pm." Or for spitting in the garage, the consequences could be dusting the house for three weeks....perhaps we have something here. It could actually turn into a Handbook for Parents. Based on the size of the infraction, you find the penalty on the chart.  Would Dr. Spock approve? How about Mr. Spock? Captain Kirk?

Let's move down to number 5: Set a bad example: "Cutting in line, lying, saying curse words, and stealing" sets a bad example for your children. I agree with this point and gave up my life of crime when Tink came along. Not wanting her to follow in this line of business, I decided that racketeering, forgery, and bribery would have to be replaced by a job that I could earn 25% of what I am worth in larger cities.

6. Not being present: This means not showing up for games and shows, working late, and ignoring your kids. They recommend spending an afternoon in a park to avoid having the child feel neglected. I know that I did not break this one. I finally shared with Tink last week that the last play that she was in was the worst that I had ever seen in my life. I will never get back the hours that I gave up to watch the Princess and the Pea (the high school musical) on a number of nights as I supported her venture into the theater. It was awful.Tink looked at me and I thought that she would be insulted. Instead she said: "Mom, it was the worst play...ever!" Whew...on the same page on this one.

It was at this point that I did not want to read any more of the article. I had already broken the parenting rules and ruined my kids according to the author.  What did I ultimately learn from this article? Nothing. Absolutely nothing! Come on, people! A lot of this nonsense is common sense. I can't financially give them everything that they want. Discipline? Absolutely. Otherwise, the inmates would have been running the asylum. Setting a bad example? Does cursing under your breath then running to confession indicate you are a bad parent? Lastly, not being present....OK, there were days when my kids did not want me to be present. But on a whole, they did. I was accused by a friend of being a helicopter parent (one who hovers around). This could not be farthest from the truth. I want them to make it on their own. I will help, but it is up to them to ultimately take the big steps on their own.

And there you have it....BP mom....not a saint....just a parent trying to figure it out without a chart, brochure, or manual. Aren't we basically the same at heart?

Time to get through the day as I keep my fingers crossed that there will be no emergency visits to the vet. Can I give the dog a Tums?

Have a great day!

A change of heart

Happy birthday to my big boy! Twenty years ago, he was welcomed into the world and has been an important part of our lives. He's sensitive, kind, intense, brutally honest, funny, and a decent human being. That's why when he was told that he stood a better chance of being hit by lightening than making he major leagues, I felt my heart bleed for him. What doctor does something like that? Oy, such deplorable bedside manner. Uncle G is never going to refer a patient to him again. He also used a few expletives when I told him what had transpired. Actually, I think one slipped out of my mouth too...oops!

Yesterday was challenging, but the only thing that made him smile was seeing the amazing birthday cake that Sparky and the Baker had made. By hand, the Baker decorated the cake in the university's colors with the face of the mascot done perfectly. It was amazing. Genius...pure confectionery genius! Thanks to Sparky and Baker. You have no idea that your cake actually caused him for a moment not to think of his troubles.

Today, Buddy returned to school for the last two days of classes before spring break. Before class, he ran to the Medical Center to obtain another MRI disc...just in case the one that the doctor read yesterday was someone else's images. As he walked through the front door, feeling really bad about himself and in a very salty mood, he saw something that turned him around immediately. Sitting in the lobby in a wheelchair was a young war veteran who did not have arms or legs. As I type that sentence, I am humbled and look at life with a crisper lens. That young man is a hero, we are just experiencing a speed bump in the road of life. No complaints, just moving on....

And so, I am going to check the weather for Pensacola for next week, find a hotel, rent a car, and pack my bag. We leave on Sunday and return home on Wednesday. That's we were are at this point in time. The kid is celebrating his birthday with his pals as the team prepares for the long road trip to the south for 10 days without him. No one ever said that life was fair...just ask the young man in the wheelchair.

A Third Opinion

Happy Birthday to my little boy who is turning the big 2-0. Yes, the teen years are behind us as we enter into the twenties. Will this decade be as 'fascinating' as the wonder years? I wonder....

OK, I will not keep you guessing. We saw the uber-specialist yesterday and life has not been the same. First, his fellow entered the room, asked a few questions, performed a physical and could not get the MRI report to open on the computer. After a few minutes, the big time doc enters the room with his other fellow and he began a series of tests. He could not open the report either, then I pulled out my laptop, which I strangely had with me, and his jaw dropped.

He began with disagreeing with the first report. Ok, we already knew this. I was waiting to be impressed. Suddenly he sees a "tear" on the MRI that no one else saw. Mind you, four other doctors looked at the actual MRI. "OK, here is what I think...." He proceeded to tell him that he had a tear and that his rotator cuff was hanging on by a thread and he was about to tear completely. By the way, you will be out of baseball for at least a year....and will probably never pitch again. As the big kid broke down into tears, my heart broke for him. Then the doctor said to him "You would never have made the majors anyway."

Huh? What? From an x-ray, he can predict the future? He did not even know my son. The news was devastating, but as he told Buddy that he would not make the majors, Buddy did something pretty impressive although I should not smile at this one....he "F'ed" the doc off. That's my boy. Yeah...you tell 'em kiddo....what the %^#** does this guy know? Less than 1% of little leaguers make it to division 1 baseball. Gotcha....less than 1% of d-1 players make it to the big leagues...gotcha. What makes this pompous doo-doo think that my kid is not going to make it? Huh? I don't know...no one knows, but you don't deliver a blow like that to a kid looking for answers.

It was not a pretty sight and I was peeved. The guy's bedside manner was deplorable. He could probably tell a five year old that she has an hour to live without blinking an eye. His reply was that we came to him for the truth and sometimes it hurts. But, if we want another opinion, there is a guy in Florida who is the best in the world. He is also his personal friend and can call him on his cell phone to get Buddy an appointment. Do we want another opinion with this guy?

What do you think? Of course we do. So, once I got home, I looked him up online and discovered that his credentials were pretty $^(@^^ good. Impressive....then I read an article that the Yankees paid him $200 million for ten years NOT to operate on any major league player besides a Yankee. Hmmmm....that's right...no one else but a Yankee.....he's that good. Amazing...

True to his word, uber-doc called this mega-doc who called me from his cell phone and told me to keep his number in case I needed anything. Yep, that's right....me, lil ole BPM has this big time doc's cell phone number. Yep, I kept it and added it to my contacts. Anyone want it? I'll give it away for a price...perhaps one or two million will suffice.

We leave on Sunday for a Monday morning appointment. Then if the mega-doc feels that he needs the surgery, he will have it on Tuesday in Florida. Yep, me and the kid...in Florida....surgery....it's crazy. I'm crazy. Buddy's crazy. Dad is crazy. We're all nuts, but what else is a parent supposed to do?

I already made the air plane reservations and looked online at the remaining seats on the aircraft. Postoperatively, Buddy would have to sit in the middle on the way home. This would be way uncomfortable since his arm will be in an immobilizer. So, I asked the ticket agent for a bulkhead seat for him. She replied that they are reserved for people in wheelchairs or who are sick. After arguing a few minutes that he would need the room, she asked if his arm would be 'fused"...The answer is yes and no....technically, it will not be fused but he cannot move it so yes, it is fused. Not good enough, so I was transferred to a manager who gave us both bulkhead seats. She did mention that if anyone in a wheelchair or who had a service dog needed the seat, I would have to move. I agreed to this request and will be looking for anyone with a fierce looking dog who may have a fused limb or two and in dire need of a bulkhead seat.

And so, that is where we stand today. With plane tickets ready to take off for Florida. Buddy has emerged from his room and cracked a few smiles. He wrote a letter to the uber doc that he is not going to send for a few years. In the letter, he writes about what happened today in the office, how he made it to the majors, and his plans to send him a signed jersey to remember the day when he almost crushed a guy's dreams. These are definitely Merlot-moments.

The second opinion

Yes, the bus did have wheels, tires, and seats. Tink and I picked the big leftie up in Philly at 1 am. Was it creepy? Naw, although you would not believe how many people are out or working at that time of the day. It was almost like a party. Almost....not really.

As he jumped into the car, I asked if he got any sleep on the bus. His reply was that he never ever sleeps on a bus because he either does not want to be robbed or have someone draw a mustache on his face with a Sharpie...paranoid perhaps...or just a good solid philosophy?

Today marks two big events. Event one is the second opinion. I have the opportunity to meet the doberman administrative assistant who would not let us through the door without the magic pixie dust. I finally found the right words to garner the appointment by saying to her: "Just forget it." Immediately the doors swung open and we were given access to the great and powerful uber-surgeon. After this appointment, we will know which direction that we are going to take with the surgery or rehab. Strap on your seat belt, we are about to hit 90 miles an hour.

The second event happened twenty years ago, when after eating at a Mexican restaurant in Newark Delaware, I went into labor. Was it the big dinner or the big kid? It took 24 hours before we actually knew. He came close to celebrating his birthday on February 29th, but decided he would start the life long torture of his mother at that point and entered the world the next day. Did I say that he was a big kid? The doctor stated that his feet were the biggest that he had seen in years. And so it goes...nothing changes. The feet are still big and he finds new ways to torture me on a daily basis.

Actually, I am kidding. He is the greatest guy and I am blessed to call him my son. He and his sister have made my life into an event. I never know what is going to happen and therefore rarely go to the movies since real-life does not compare to fiction.

We have been blessed with a very interesting life and I am grateful. Sure there are days when I sit on floor and aimlessly stare into space. Then there are other days when I can see the reasons for the turmoil and am grateful that we currently have the tools to fix them. For example, dad heard that Buddy would need to sleep in a lounge chair for the first few weeks since he will not be able to lie down. Guess what? We have an old lounge chair in the basement that would match the decor in their college apartment. You know the look...a ripped plaid chair that is semi broken would seamlessly look wonderful in the corner of the apartment next to Irene, the plastic blow up doll that has a hole in it. She is currently awaiting reconstructive surgery so that she can be inflated again. Sadly, she does not have insurance and therefore has to wait until the surgical resident can see her.

Back to Buddy...after the appointment, we are going to celebrate his birthday in style with chicken Parmesan and chocolate cake from Sparky's friend's bakery. Then he goes back to college to take a test and will returns home on Friday night for spring break. In the meantime, I am going to check out the basement chair to make sure that it can be moved to his apartment, perhaps clean it with something (not sure what...), and consider what I should get for him for his birthday....a new shoulder perhaps?

Have a great day!

And the beat goes on

Good morning! The sun is shining and the little children are outside playing in their little motorized cars. No walking or running right now...they have these oh so cool electric cars. They are laughing and smiling...what a great sight....

So, how is my little guy? Hmmm...not really sure. He was quiet yesterday and did not call me. I am not going to push it and will wait to hear from him. The team arrived back at the apartment at 1 am, so the magnitude of the shoulder injury is hitting home as I type.

How will he handle it? With grace? class? Naw...probably not. he's still a kid who has suffered a big personal loss. However, it is not the end of the world. This injury can be fixed and he will be better than ever. Sadly, there are external pressures on him to take a cortisone shot and pain killers. That's right....pain killers and cortisone shots and play thorough the injury. Is this what Marcus Welby would say to his patients? What about Dr McDreamy...shoot 'em up and throw him into the big game? Perhaps, they would like him to bite on a bullet as he cocks his arm back to throw the curve ball. Don't they think that it is killing him to be out of the line up?

In my book, this is not the answer to the issue and can only magnify the problem. And so, BP dad is headed to college tomorrow to discuss options with the coaches. The options that are not on the table include steroid anti inflammatory medication and some type of strong pain killer. Nope, my kid wants to be in the sport for a long time, not until the end of May.

Crazy! It's all pretty crazy....second and third opinions, surgery, therapy, physical therapy, rest, ice, elevation, acupuncture, hypnosis, reflexology, message, acupressure, and energy healing. The kid has a sore arm that has to be treated with a number of modern modalities which may begin with surgery. Let's keep in mind that he is still 19 and can heal a lot quicker than I can at the tender age of #@$$$^^.

And so, I will let you know what happens as news unfolds. Right now, we know that he is sorely missed in the bullpen and the coaches and players want to expedite his return. Unfortunately, this injury will take time and the patience of Job.

Thirty year old rookie

Ok...it's a new day, new week and another chapter in the life of the BP family. I have decided that the entries lately have been negative and a bit depressing, so it is time to raise it up a little bit. Yes, it is true, life is not fair...but we are not battling the big "C", schizophrenia, or bankruptcy. No, we have a boo boo on the shoulder....big deal!

Today begins a week in which we organize and get things together for the future. For example, we are seeking a second opinion since we go from rest, ice and Motrin from one doctor to "Cut me, Mick!" Is there an in-between opinion before surgery? So, I left a voice mail on Friday with another leading shoulder specialist for a third opinion. Dr G says "Do not tell him that this is a second opinion....surgeons do not like it." OK, I will never mention that he will be the third doctor in this process. Blue Devil sent a link to a renown specialist at Duke, which I will hold onto for a fourth opinion.

Dad is more skeptical than I am. I am confident that MD number 2 knows what he is doing, but who knows? Who ever knows? How is that for positive thoughts?

And so, nothing can be done until I hear from number 3's office. Somehow, I have to get in to see this guy, Dr. W and no one else. It may be tough to break through the 70 or so doctors, nurses, physicians assistants, receptionists, transcriptionists, and billing specialists in front of him, but I believe that I am ready for the job. I can be persuasive when I put my mind to it. I'll do my deep breathing exercises, squats, crack the knuckles, and run in place before the phone call is made. Perhaps I will have a venti bold Starbucks coffee before the conversation. They will never know what hit them. By the way, I stopped in Starbucks today for my Sunday coffee and the barrista never asked me if I wanted "room for cream" in my cup. Sheeesh...and I could not even garner an interview.

Now, it is time for good news...not good news...great news....Ok, not great news but amazing and awesome, stupendous and fantastic news....ready? Sit down....OK, stand up...here we go....

Buddy's mentor, Coach T was signed by the Phillies yesterday! Did I say "signed"? Yes, I did!!!! Coach T, a guy who has been a mentor and big brother to my son has signed with the local big time major league team and we are thrilled! not just thrilled....elated...more than elated....ecstatic....jubilant....filled with joy and thanksgiving!

What does this prove? Yes, the guy can pitch, 'cause the Phils are the number one team....but, we learn that if you want something bad enough and are willing to work hard and make sacrifices, you can achieve that goal. The guy has made it...been rejected, cut, sent to the minors, sent to the Caribbean league, ate hot dogs for months, does not have a college degree since he has been pursuing this dream and finally...yes, finally, a thirty year old rookie!

We have learned that there is nothing beyond the reach of determination. A little cliche, perhaps, but relevant. If you feel in your heart that you are destined for something, then go for it. Do not give up until there is no longer a pulse...keep going, don't stop, 'cause whatever does not kill you, makes you stronger (another cliche, sorry). Way to go, Coach T...Buddy will be watching while his arm is in a sling and he rehabs...no one is more proud of you then your home town fans....

Making and Missing Goals

Good morning...the snow is melting which has Tink in a happy mood. It seems that she hurt her back while shoveling on Saturday and prefers the barren, brown look of winter. And so it goes...yes, I did have her shovel the driveway....no, I did not help her....any more questions?

Yesterday was a big day in the football and baseball worlds. The NFL games were exciting and I actually watched most of them. I could not help by feel sorry for the kicker from the Ravens who missed a field goal that would have tied the game. He must have felt agony and despair. If it was me, I would need some of that Michael Jackson sedation....'cause it was a global blunder. Does this happen? Of course it does...someone has to win and someone has to lose, but I cannot imagine being the guy who the world watched miss the tying field goal. All I can say is "agony" and "therapy!" One thought....it takes a huge amount of courage and talent to be on a professional team...so I give him a great deal of credit. Let's NOT talk about the punt returner who fumbled in overtime.....

I can relate to their pain on a smaller level. As Buddy had his first loss of his college career on national television, he was despondent BUT as we all remember, it is a team sport and not about 1 guy...it's about 9+ who come together to defeat the opposition.

Yesterday he called his dad (not me) to report that in practiced he struck out 4 out 6 batters that he faced. Two thoughts arise...either he is pitching "lights out" OR the batters were hung over from the previous night's party. You choose.

I usually hear from him as he walks to class in the morning. He calls, I think because he wants to report and hear about what is going on. I love the fact that he is comfortable enough to call home on a regular basis. This pleases me to know what he is doing and how he is feeling. I think that there is a trust factor. He can trust his parents to listen to him and tell him like it is. He also knows that we love him no matter how many batters or battles he faces or issues that he untangles. Life is about working together to attain our mutual and personal goals. My goal is to make sure that my family is safe and hopefully happy. His goal is a bit different, but I know that he cares deeply for all of us (including Diva Dog). However, it is his time to shine and work toward his own goal. I like the fact that a college education is attached to the aforementioned goal....

With that said, I am still working on this major work project and will be locked in my office without food or water, sustaining myself strictly on caffeine. My goal today is to write a coherent sentence or two and perhaps emerge for another cup of coffee around 1 pm.....take care....stay warm....

Vaya con Dios

Sniff sniff...he's gone and so is the laundry room filled with dirty socks, hundreds of tee shirts, and sneakers. There are no opened doors, water bottles in the sofa cushions, dirty dishes in the sink and around the house, chocolate wrappers on the floor, or bathrooms without toilet paper....sigh...I miss the big kid...Before he left, I had to inspect his bedroom to make sure that it was clean. He stood next to me as I examined the bed, night stand, and desk for trash or dirty clothes. I then asked him: "Should I open the closet?" His reply was: "Please don't." OK, I will do it after a tetanus shot or if I see anything crawling from it. I am positive that he jammed everything into it yesterday morning. Perhaps after a glass of wine, I will have enough courage to open the closet door and peak inside...no hurry...

Last night, he texted me as he watched his favorite football player Tim Tebow in Denver. He and Big Red watched the entire game without LW interrupting with a new rap song.

As we drove home, I was quiet, introspective, and sad. I really love when he is around, yet he is 19 years old and has to be launched. He is living his dream, so I have to be happy for him. It this thought alone that helps me to keep perspective. Sadly, knowing that he will not be home until August for a few weeks does not help me. Therefore I will look at the positive aspects of Buddy's departure:

1. We have more food in the house
2. I do not have to create 5 course meals each night. We can go back to protein and a salad and be satisfied.
3. Money will not disappear at an alarming rate for gas or morning bagels.
4. Utility bills will be lower as the rest of us do not take three daily showers or leave lights on all night.
5. We will chat more since the big kid likes to call when he walks to class, practice, and study hall.
6. As the season begins, Tink and I strap on the lucky sneakers and head for parts of the country that we have read about it in books and watched on CNN.
7. I can continue to learn more about him as I listen to the games on the radio and see him on television.
8. We are privileged to live with the highs and lows of the baseball season.
9. There will be more LW drama
10. I can observe the metamorphosis of a little boy with a big dream as he grows into a young man with a bigger dream.

And so, there you have it in a nutshell...the highs and the lows of raising a child to leave home and find his way in the world. He has roots and wings...don't forget about us kiddo...we are here at home, eating a salad and listening to your game and praying that you can strike the batter out.... Vaya con Dios...

Oreo cookies: A snack or a meal?

Good morning!
This week has been a blur as I have returned to work and have more papers piled high on my desk. Actually, I don't have the actual papers since I am a paperless professor. Students submit their work electronically and I grade it on the computer then send it back. The computer is an amazing tool and I feel as if I am doing my best for the environment by forbidding students to submit paper copies of their work. Besides...its easier....

On to paddle...yes! I played outside on the coldest day of the year and actually took my heavy coat off. A person can and does work up a sweat while playing the sport. I went to my first session ever with a coach who has won a national championship. I proceeded to stand on the baseline, tried to look imposing, and missed the first 5 balls sent to me. Not only did I miss the balls, I was not even close....Not only did I miss the balls from afar but I looked like a fool trying to follow the ball and hit it with my paddle. Then I began to question my sanity and reason for trying the sport when I finally hit a ball! Yes, I did it! Yeah...you go, girl!

I hit that ball so hard that it went into the net. With this success, my next ball flew out of the cage. It was at that point, I could not make eye contact with the coach because I could see her think: "Yep, pathetic! I am going to have to work hard for my money today."

Not to be deterred, I signed up for another lesson thinking that I have to master this sport. Will I be any good? Who knows....but the way that you stand at the net is with your knees bent and bottom out. That stance was invented for me, 'cause my bottom was out...way, way out....post Christmas cookie out....yep, the perfect sport for me.

On to my boy with tendonitis....he is feeling better and the gel prescribed by Dr G has made quite a difference. He is throwing without pain and feeling as if he will be going to Tampa (whew! Gotta get my plane tix). I also believe that he is not sleeping on his left side (per Pop) which has taken the pressure off it.

With that said, he is leaving on Sunday and has made a few requests: pulled pork, chocolate cheesecake, stuffed cupcakes (actually, Big Red wants them) and toffee. I have started to make the items and will freeze them for transport. He can pull a serving out of the freezer when he is hungry. Although Tink wants to make chocolate cookies to send to LW. It seems that she has planned to get him too fat to play. This is too diabolical for me to agree to...where did she get such a devious mind?

I am going to miss the big messy guy...it was nice having him around. I always knew where he was in the house because I could follow his trail of a sock on the floor, crumbs in the pantry, doors left opened, water bottles on the floor, and dirty dishes all over the house. I found a Skittles wrapper in the sofa cushions and knew that he was eating while he was home. Actually, it does not take Sherlock Holmes to figure it out. but we do have a mystery....I have a recipe for brownies with Oreos that I promised my class that I would make for them. I bought three packages over the past three weeks. Every time I went to the pantry to make the oreos' brownies, the package would be in the pantry and empty.

No one has admitted to eating the cookies despite me warning them that they were earmarked for brownies that I was taking to school. Each time that I would make an inquiry, the responses were the same: "not me..." Finally, I hid the bag of cookies where no one would find them and was able to bake the brownies. But the mystery continues...who ate the three bags of oreos? I do have options such as weighing each person after I buy another bag or check their mouth for 'oreo-breath' (which is not as bad as Dorito-breath). Or I let it go and chalk it up to someone who was starving because we never have food in the house and had to make a snack out of an entire box of cookies. And so, I am now on my way to run a few errands and oreos are not on my list....

Have a great day!

Paddle Ball...why?

Greetings. I am up early and getting ready to learn paddle ball. No, this is not the language that I professed that I would learn in 2012, but something a bit different in my weekly routine. Got to keep the activities fresh and not fall into the same dull patterns. Time to learn a new skill even though it means playing outside in 10 degree temperature.

Ten degrees? Huh huh...after I finally made the commitment to play today (the coach has been after me for months), I thought that we would be playing indoors. After all, it is winter right? What I did not know and learned last night is that paddle ball is played outdoors...no matter what season you are in...that means...outdoors....with a paddle in my hand...coat and hat on...trying to hit a little round ball. I must be nuts. Something happened to my brain between 2011 and 2012 that made me lose my mind. Quick, someone help me to come to my senses before it is too late and I have signed up for 10 weeks worth of lessons....that would take up into late February....OY!

As far as our favorite leftie is concerned, he has been given a topical ointment by Dr G to help to alleviate the inflammation. I have been using it for months and it is great. He would not try it until it was "cleared" by the trainer. It seems that the NCAA rules are quite strict about performance enhancement drugs and steroids which is appropriate. This ointment is neither but he felt the need to check anyway. Now that it has been approved, he has been using the cream. According to the southpaw, it is amazing and he wants a case of the stuff. I wonder if United Healthcare will cover it?

OK, got to go, bundle up, and make a frigid fool out of myself. So what else is new?

En Español, por favor!

Happy New Year to all! It is almost a year since I started BPM and I would like to thank each person who encouraged me to continue to write. There were days when I did not feel like typing away yet remembering each person who likes to read my musings has kept me engaged. Therefore, I would like to thank you from the bottom of my heart on this first morning of the new year.

As the kids and Diva Dog sleep soundly, a new phenomenon occurred yesterday....there were no parties, no celebrations, no late nights....It was a perfect end to the year.

Today, I am not going to look backward 'cause I think that I have already learned from my mistakes. I really want to look ahead and not make the same mistakes but perhaps a few new ones. A tennis coach of mine once said: "Don't worry about double faults, it means that you are going for it..." What does that mean? Well, if we want to be successful, we are going to trip up and make a few errors along the way, but at least we are not content with the status quo. We are moving toward being better athletes or individuals. So, when you err, just remember, you are living life to the fullest and therefore when there are screw ups, they were an effort to try new things or move ahead. As we try new things, there are growing pains and learning curves. No one is flawless and therefore we can learn from trial and error.

OK, is this enough philosophy for you? Yeah, me too....my brain is starting to hurt.

And so, as I look toward 2012, I do have a few goals. These are not resolutions, since I make them every day and pretty much break them as soon as I make them. But, I signed up to learn a new skill, paddle tennis. Further, I would like to learn a new language, perhaps Italian. I had dos anos of Espanol en escuela and do not remember much. But Italian sounds intriguing. I love Italy and being part Italian, it sounds like I can try out my new skill in the city's section of Little Italy.

However, I do need to pay my Slovak heritage a tribute, but there are no adult classes to learn Slovak and no Little Slovakia in the city....so, I have narrowed my selection down to a language in which I can locally order my dinner. For example, one night we ate at an authentic Mexican restaurant and dad boldly ordered our dinners in Spanish. Consequently, we did not get what we wanted. He used the wrong words and ordered something that I did not want to eat. In his mind, he really thinks that he knows Spanish, so much so that when we were in Mexico he thought he told the cab driver that he had a "nice car." Instead he said the cab driver had a "nice knife." We laughed at that one, but dad still thinks that he is bilingual. Hmmmm.....moving on....

Yesterday I watched House Hunters International on HGTV and find this show fascinating since travel shows take me all over the world without a passport or going through customs. The episode focused on a young couple from Minnesota who was moving to Kenya for a few years and the search was on to find a reasonably price house. As they walked through Nairobi, they conversed with the people in Swahili. Imagine! Therefore, if this young couple can learn Swahili and speak in cogent sentences, why can't I learn more Spanish or Italian beyond 'ciao', 'por favor', and '¿dónde está el baño?'

With that said, have a wonderful day!

¡Felíz año nuevo!

Highs, Lows, and Resolutions

New Year's Day is on its way. Time is going by so fast. When I was a kid, I could not wait to be 13 'cause I believed that life began in high school. Then I wanted to drive, graduate high school and go to college. I accomplished these goals and more over the years. Now, I want time to slow down a bit. It's time to sit back and relax and reflect on the year...the highs and the lows....lows....lows...

There were so many highs in 2011. I started this blog to set the record straight about Buddy and his climb in baseball. Boy, were there highs and lows over these years. Recalling the years of development and what he had to do to be noticed by a division I school made me realize that he is a bit of a hero. I think that a hero is an ordinary person who does extraordinary things. In my mind, he never gave up...verbally, he may have sounded off a few "I quits" and expletives but the negative comments and shots that he took especially from his peers made him stronger. He is a different person than he was in high school as he is more determined than ever to succeed. I wish him the best as I continue to support him while sitting in the stands and by the telephone. He knows that he can count on BP mom to stand in his corner and be his 'wing man' should he need one.

Then there is Tink...Tink who has taken a back seat on her brother's journeys. She, too is a hero, as she works diligently toward her goal of being a preschool teacher. Starting college, she studies more than Buddy and I have combined. Dad did not need to study, 'cause he is blessed with a great memory and common sense. The rest of us have the challenge of trying to focus on our tasks and retain some knowledge for testing and passing courses. Yet, Tink works furiously as she sits in a corner of the house (there are at least 4 desks that she can work from, but she prefers the corner of the living room) and tries to figure out college math. Sadly, I am not the person to help her through this journey, since I am pretty sure that the calculator was invented for numbskulls like me. Tink gets a high five from me and a high paw from Diva Dog.

Some of the 2011 lows include Buddy's hair raising line drive to the face in which I saw his and my lives flash before my eyes. I do believe that his guardian angel deflected that ball, 'cause it was headed for disaster. The fact that he was able to move let alone stand up after the hit was a miracle. Amen....

Another low has been the living situation with LW. Oy! I hate saying that I was right...but I was right about this situation....living with a narcissist can lead to nothing but trouble. I am hoping that 2012 is one that brings this young man some peace in his life.

As we look to the next year, I am a tad worried about Buddy's shoulder. I know that tendonitis can take a long time to heal, but the season is set to begin in 6 weeks in Tampa. He needs to work on his curve ball and throw without pain. Tomorrow, dad and I meet with the university's specialist to go over the diagnosis and plan. Knowing my son, he will want to return to pitching sooner than later which can only aggravate the shoulder. Let time heal this wound, please....

Do I have any goals for the upcoming years....besides sanity, perhaps? Sure...I am going to take one day at a time and be the best person that I can be. I want to be as helpful as possible to the people that need me and stay positive and upbeat. I would like to pay the bills and lose ten pounds. Further, I would like peace on earth and lower taxes, affordable housing for the poor, and enough food in the soup kitchens to feed the hungry. Also, I would like for once and for all, for the concept of global warming to be defined...what exactly is it and do I really have to give up using hair spray? Am I really leaving a carbon footprint? And can someone define carbon footprints? Another resolution.....clean my shoes to eliminate my carbon footprint....

Happy New Year!

Generic butter

Good Morning! I am sorry that I did not post yesterday, but with the classes, Cookie- Fest III, and holidays, my mind is mush and I could not write a cogent paragraph. But I am going to try to break out of the holiday fuzziness and update readers on life, baseball, and cookies.

Yesterday, I did not have even ten minutes to myself until my 8 pm Happy Hour in my family room. As I sat down with a fire lit in the fireplace and Christmas tree lights on, I reflected on the hectic day and decided that I did accomplish some personal and professional goals. it was not all about running around and grading papers....I had some family time, shopping, and planning sessions with Tink.

After a crazy morning and early afternoon, Tink and I returned the favor to Grandmom and Grandpop and stopped by their home to help with cookies and decorating the tree. After all, they were the only people to help me in 20 years to decorate the Christmas tree. Sure, I know that it is usually a family event but dad is usually M.I.A., Buddy is indifferent, and Tink will place two ornaments on the tree and disappear. Once it is done, they look at it and say: "nice job." Nice job indeed...it was more than a job....decorating a 9 foot tree is a career or a profession. Come on guys...nice job?

OK, so after helping Grandmom and Buttercup bake some great cookies and sampling them for quality purposes (naturally), Tink and I helped Grandpop and his tree. It is nice seeing a man taking such tender care of the ornaments and caring about the tree. How refreshing! As we were sampling and admiring our work, Buddy called and said: "Hi mom, how are you?"

"How are you?" Really? How are you? You mean mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually and perhaps financially? How am I? "Yes, how are you?" Wow, "I am fine...and you?" "I am great...."

Here is goes....he finished classes yesterday and if all goes as planned by next Friday he will be an official second semester sophomore and eligible to play spring baseball. Nice...he had a baseball party to attend last night and bought a $1.00 Santa hat. Did I know that some stores sell them for $20.00? Dude, I have been shopping for years, of course I knew...by the way, do not get caught in the rain with your dollar hat because the ink will run and you will have a red head....just a F.Y.I....

After saying good bye and have fun, Tink and I fueled on sugar, butter, and pretty green and red sprinkles headed for the mall. She has a Christmas party to attend on Sunday with her friend and needed an outfit. It seems all of clothes are laying on the floor of her closet are not in any condition to attend Home Depot's Christmas party. Once we finished there, we headed to the food store for Cookie-fest III ingredients. Grabbing the shopping cart, we received a call from dad...."I just moved $100.00 to Buddy's account for food. Don't spend more than $20.00 until I can transfer money into the account." Ahhh...now it makes sense as Mr. Trump is sitting pretty in a Santa hat at a baseball party with my Cookie-fest money in his pocket. No wonder he asked how I was....if I needed money, he would have peeled $20.00 bucks from the wad of cash in his pocket and tell me to go buy something pretty.....It all makes sense...or does it?

As far as I am concerned with a fuzzy Christmas brain and papers to grade, I am not going to work on figuring it out. I am going to accept things as they are....buy generic butter and not Land-O-Lakes, rummage for change at the bottom of my purse and on the floor of the car...then have a quiet Happy hour at home...it's time...