Mea culpa!

I am soooo sorry that I have not posted, but as I mentioned, September is the most aggressive month of the year and I have had stuff thrown on me day after day after day.....

First, welcome home Wildcat! Delaware has not been the same without you.



OK, where do I begin after such a long absence?

Let's start with work......

'nuf said.......

On to the oddities of my life.....On Miss America weekend, I landed up driving BP Grandmom and Grandpop, Big Sis, and Tink to Atlantic City for the "Show me your shoes" parade. A balmy 50 degrees with the wind gusting and rain falling, we sat freezing under the Steele Pier awning. Baton twirlers, high school marching band members, and dancers all skidded and fell on the boardwalk as the rain made walking, skipping, and dancing treacherous. Then the ladies were driven in their convertibles where their hair and make up were ruined. The last few contestants pulled the tops back onto their cars and sat covered. We never saw Miss Vermont, West Virginia, or Wyoming because the car whizzed by trying to get the soaked beauty contestant out of the rain.



All in all, it was a memorable day. I lost $20.00 at the Taj Majal and stopped gambling at that point. Twenty is my limit. I work too hard to drop it in a penny slot machine.

Pope Stuff: Isn't he the coolest pontiff ever? I loved the video where he stopped his Fiat, got out of the car to hug a young boy who was disabled. He took a few photos with some of the people and returned to his car.



Tink and I volunteered on Monday and registered people coming in for the World Family Congress. Families from all over the world checked in as we scanned their documents. Ghana, South America, Argentina, Mexico, Ireland, Germany.....big families....little families.....unconventional families......it was humbling as we witnessed nothing short of a miracle as thousands checked into the Philadelphia Convention Center.....



Hey BP mom.....did you buy your Pope shoes? Did they work? Did you extended walking practices help to get you into Pope-tastic shape?

Well, I bought a decent pair of sneakers....Adidas....no coupon but on sale at Dick's Sporting Goods. They were a bit more pricey than I was accustomed to spending, but I took a risk on spending an extra ten bucks for comfort. Then the sneakers were put to the ultimate test on Monday as I stood for 7 hours.

Did they work?

Hmmm....can anyone say "ouch"?

Right.....the sneakers felt like I picked up a pair of Payless shoes without the soles. My feet were on fire by the end of the day. What to do?  There was no way that I could volunteer on Saturday and Sunday and wear these sneakers. By the end of Saturday's shift, I would have been crawling....the Pope would have stopped his Fiat thinking that I was disabled.....kissed me and went on to the stage for Mass.

Anyway, I picked up a pair of Dr. Scholls gel inserts and hope that they do the trick. Today, Tink and I are taking the train to the city for the first time ever (don't judge....I used to take the subway in since I could not afford the train.). It will be a practice run to make sure that   we know where we are going this weekend.

I received my volunteer assignment on Monday for the weekend. I was thinking that I would be stationed on the Parkway, next to the Fiat, then I would open the door for the Pope and walk him to the stage. .....I was wrong....dead wrong....so wrong.....I was worse than wrong.

Where am I stationed on Saturday and Sunday? Would you believe three miles away from the Parkway?
Yep, after my shift ends at 3 pm, I then walk three more miles to and from (a total of 6) in my painful Adidas sneakers to the Parkway where I will stand in my  sneakers during mass with 1 million of my closest friends. Can anyone say "Motrin"? Does anyone have some?


Anyway, I am honored to be able to attend the mass and be part of this historic event. If worse comes to worse and I have to remove my sneakers and walk barefoot, I will. After all, didn't the Apostles walk town to town in sandals? They certainly did not have Dr. Scholl's gel inserts for their sandals back then, did they?



On to the big kid who has been home for a few weeks. How is his fast ball?

Wellll......................................

He has not thrown since he can't. That's right...he cannot throw because he has a hip problem.



When he came home, he continued to complain about his hip. He went to see Yoda who said: "something is wrong. You may have a tear."


Oh heavens! Really?

And so, Dr. G ordered a cat/mri scan which shows a hip impingement. To fix an impingement, he needs hip surgery. It is not as complicated as the other surgeries, yet he has to have it done.



And here is where we limp along as a family.....with a sore hip and feet, we trod along trying to accomplish our goals and  live life with some kind of integrity.



Back to work.....

Peace!

Opportunity knocks

Good morning! Please forgive the lack of posts but September is always a tough month for a parent and educator. It's true that I do not have school age kids any more so I cannot blame them. However, trying to work my way back into work clothes and a regular schedule is not an easy endeavor. I wish that I had just one more hour in the day.....OK, two more hours....OK, perhaps having one more day in the weekend.....maybe two.....

On to other topics...the big kid is home for two weeks and is still questioning his choice of careers and his sanity. It would not bother me if he was calmer but he has this edge when he is stressed which makes being a therapeutic presence all the more challenging for a parent. When does this end? Would you believe never?

Anyway, he is upset that his leg hurts....he has so many openings to hit the "bigs" yet his body is failing him. For example.....

On Saturday night, just through luck.....Dr G stopped by a friend's home to celebrate the daughter's birthday. While eating cake, he met the friend's neighbor and quickly told them that he had to run because he was meeting his nephew, the big lefty, for dinner to chat with him about his leg and mood. As fate, luck, or life would have it, the neighbor's brother is a pitching coach in the minor leagues, former major league player, and wants to meet the big kid. Really? Is this for real? The brother, the coach, will be in town next month, so the big kid now has a goal and is back throwing....thanks Dr. G.



The trainers in Seattle sent him home while they moved their facility. They want him to come back in October when the professional pitchers are working out for him to meet them and to learn from the guys who made it. Another huge opportunity for the big kid.

These chances are great and unbelievable, yet he remains silent and is not talking. This can mean a few things.....

1. he forgot how to talk and complain
2. he has nothing to say
3. he is a bit intimidated that he is going to meet these people
4. he is questioning whether he wants to do this for a full time job
5. he is centering himself to prepare for battle (remember the sentence that he uttered to his dad and Tink in Illinois: "I don't talk before I pitch.")....wellll...

How do I feel about this? I am happy, thrilled, and frightened. Why?



Where do I begin?

What if he has his chance and does not make it? What happens to him as a person whose entire identity is based on his ability to throw a ball? What if he does make it but lands in the minors for a number of years and never hits a big league field? What if....what it.....what if.....



Here is where I have to go as a parent....support....listen....trust in the process...be there to lift him up, pick up the pieces, or celebrate.....any way that you look at it, the time has come. Keep your fingers, toes, and eyes crossed!



Off to work.
Peace!

Yes, the gelato was good

I'm baaack......and backed up.....like nothing before. I guess that I have been denying that I am really back at work....the work will go away if I ignore it. Yet, this is not the case and I have to put my head down and begin to think....

Although....my mind wanders and wants to chill because it really did not chill this summer, at all....all I could think about on my time off was that I was going to have to return to work...lo and behold, rather than relaxing, I was stressing myself out. Now, it is here. The moment that I dreaded.....OK, not dreaded. I think that I need one more week...in solitary confinement, not in a Louisiana prison (more about that later), but in a spa...massage....facial...reflexology....solitude tank.....no television, cell phone, iPad....

Actually, I am glad to be back at work. Now I can focus on what has to be done and can go back to counting Weight Watchers Points to fit into the fall and winter clothes.
 

On to what has happened....first, BD had a bit of a spill in a parking lot...twisted an ankle, visited the good folks in the Er via an ambulance....and is now working to retrieve her mobility. Honestly...it was an accident...a gelato accident. We were finishing our gelato and there was a hole in the asphalt and poor BD found it. This made for an interesting few days as the pups tried to nurse her back to health. Although, as Christina would sing..."thanks for making me a fighter..."

On to the big kid.....some of you know that my wedding anniversary was a few weeks ago. Immersed in jury duty, dad suggested that I do not purchase a gift for him and that he ordered something to be delivered south where we planned to spend Labor Day weekend with BD and the pups. OK, so be it....

When I arrived from my flight to join the family (I came last), a car pulled up to pick me up. It looked like the car, but dad was not behind the wheel, but a young man, so I waited. I stepped away from the car and looked for another car to pick me up. Then the young man honked the horn. Looking around, I thought that he was there for another person, then the window came down....."Hi mom!"

Yep! The young man was mine and I was floored. "You are supposed to be in Seattle! Are you OK? Why are you here?"

"I am your present."



Oh my goodness. I have never ever been given a nicer gift in my life. I lost it, ran to him, hugged the stuffing out of him, embarrassed the big kid....and could not stop hugging him. This was a moment I will never forget. I still get misty thinking about it. I definitely needed a lift and a half after this horrific trial (more about that later, since I have to go to work).

We spent the weekend together and I could not have been happier except for poor BD's ankle. And yes, the gelato was pretty darn good.

The gang spent the weekend fishing and I was able to hit a few tennis balls and hang out with BD. All in all, it made me more restless about returning to work. Oh well, no complaints....

The last story that I will share is the big lefty's conversation with me the night before we returned.
"Mom, I do not know if I want to do this any more...."

Huh? Wha? Seriously? Really?

Hey, he can do whatever he wants BUT he has to finish this process. And so, he continued to explain that he is tired of working out....tired of hurting....tired of being poor.....OK, scratch the poor part....the bills have been paid by his momma. He has been put on a budget by his dad in the last few weeks and therefore has limited access to cash.

Back to the conversation....we left it at.....he's going back....going to finish what he started....coming home and working out at a local baseball facility. He also wants to work as an intern at a cousin's corporation to earn money and 'take the burden of supporting him off us." Nice.

My BP Mom take on it...the flame thrower is not up to where he wants to be, he had a nice weekend of fishing, eating, and sleeping and reality hit as he prepared to return.

It's OK. He can be frustrated and impatient BUT he has to finish, because he will never forgive himself...ever....if he walks away as he closes in on his goal.....never.....

Got to work.


Peace!

Oh my!

Greetings. I am sorry that I have not posted this week, but jury duty has taken all of my time. I cannot discuss the case, but I can tell you the following:


1. There were 106 people in my group that were contacted for a trial


2. The odds of me being chosen were approximately 1% at this point.
3. Then they divided us into two groups for two different trials, my odds went up a small percentage.
4. They took us into a room to see the judge, lawyers and defendant, then the judge asked questions....


5. This increased my odds to 50-50 when he asked if anyone had a criminal record. Only a few answered the question until an Einstein raised his hand and asked if a DUI was a crime. Seriously? Hands went up.


6. I knew that I was in trouble. Yes, I may joke about "Merlot moments" but I do not drink and drive and generally cut off alcohol consumption after a glass and half (if I am not driving).


7. Over half of the potential jurors hands went up. I went from 1 % to almost certain to be chosen...and....



Yes, I am in the jury...front row....learning a great deal about the judicial system and court proceedings.

I cannot say anymore because I took an oath. However, I will chat about some aspects at a later date.

Hopefully  I will finish tomorrow after the lawyers' give their closing arguments. However, we still have to agree on a verdict....talk about 12 angry men closed up in a little room with one bathroom.....more later.



BTW: The big kid called yesterday...he's lonely in Seattle :-(
Peace!

Jury duty

Good evening! I am writing on a Sunday night because.....

I have jury duty tomorrow!

First, a quick shout out to Wildcat who is heading down south for a month. I'll miss you kiddo! Be careful!
 


OK, back to jury duty....rats...I know that everyone has to do this at some point, but I was keeping my fingers crossed that the bad guys and their lawyers would be on vacation this week. Apparently not! And so, I report tomorrow by 9am (by 8:15 if I want a parking space) and will wait until my number is called. As I am interviewed, I will hold back from saying that I have a philosophical construct that I hold dear to my heart that everyone is 'guilty'. Yep, we are all guilty of something...too much food....booze....television.....shopping....exercise...reality television watching.....and so on....Yes, we are all guilty. Therefore, I should be excused because I will stand up and say "guilty!"....of something.....

On to Big kid....he is doing well out in Seattle. He went to a Mariners game and watched the bullpen warm up. "Mom, they are no better than I am. I can do this...."



OK, I like the confidence.

Yesterday, he broke some sort of record at the training facility for something or other....he explained it. I listened. It did not make much sense. But, the trainer moved his leg a bit and the ball flew out of his hand. "Mom, this only happens with a few of the guys who go there for training."

A good thing?

Yes, I believe so.



And so, his optimism is good. He is feeling solid without pain and will stay for another three weeks. That's right. Three more weeks. His landlady has made him pay up front. So, dad sent three weeks worth of rent. I am keeping my fingers, toes, and eyes crossed as well as my wallet closed that he finishes in the aforementioned three weeks because.....well....hmmmm.... how can I put this delicately?



It's expensive....no coupons...no clearance rack...no discount....full price, babeee......


No worries. I can sell some blood or a kidney.



Gotta get ready for jury duty...do I bring a book? Laptop? Tablet? Newspaper? Cell phone? My mom? Kashi bar....water?



So many decisions.



peace!