"I can't believe another year is past...."

I am curious if this phenomenon happen to you.  Do you think of the most profound, moving or funny blog entries at times when it is impossible to write them?  Only to have them evaporate into thin air?

 

If only I could type while in the shower, driving, or trying to decide between getting up or sleeping more in the morning.  You would be amazed at what leaked out of my mind.  Sometimes I think it would be nice to have a usb connect right to my head and then I could filter and edit it later.  It is a scary thought on so many levels, and I bet even if it was only limited to me, you are very glad this technology isn't available.  It's bad enough reading my conscious thoughts and ramblings.

 

 

I am sure you have realized it is that time of year again.  Currently I have a vow, to simply enjoy the holidays.  I know it's crazy but I am going to get done what I can, buy what I can afford and try and have a good time.  I'll check back in with you about that.

 

This morning in bed I came up with a pretty good idea for my Christmas cards.  I don't think they are too much of a pain, but we will see. I am planning on making a test one later today.  If it doesn't go well, I'll go buy cards. (part of my vow.)

 

I have been trying to come up with my holiday letter.  Yes I write a newsletter.  I try to make them funny, and I am told people secretly look forward to them. And for once it isn't just the voices in my head.   I like to read holiday newsletters.  I don't know about you but there are so many friends that don't care to write much  and even if it is once a year, I want to know how they are doing. 

 

Every year it seems like you read about this in Ann Landers or somewhere.  Dear Ann -- I hate newsletters why do all these crappy people insist on wasting my precious time with the inane dribble about how little Tommy managed to finally make a goal at soccer?  or Dear Ann -- Why do my nieces insist on sending me those typewritten newsletters about their family? Why can't they write it out long hand?  After all I took the time to handwrite them a note about how my bunions are cleared up and all my friends at the senior center love line dancing.

 

My point is we all have inane (or in some cases, insane) dribble we go on an on about.  However it is a method of keeping us connected.  Yes it would be nice if we did it more than at Christmas.  Let's face it not everyone wants to communicate that much.  Either that or no one likes me since that is about the only time it seems like they are willing to catch up.  I joke about being insecure, but I imagine that in most cases it is just an overload, we all have so much going on in our lives, it is hard to stop and write. 

 

Which brings me to my current dilemma.  I want to get my holiday newsletter started.  I usually try to avoid bragging, and inject a bit of humor while giving the basic news.  I always include pictures of the boys.    However I can't help but think the family wants an answer to the bigger question?  What is going on with you and the hubby?  I know a holiday newsletter isn't the time or place, plus I am not ready to make a public statement.  However it seems like the newsletter will ring false with everyone, because they know all is not well at our house, and the jokes will fall flat.  It's funny, I know one of the major complaints about these newsletter is that they are fake, or lack any real communication.  Yet I know real and honest might be a bit too shocking, not a bit funny, not a bit appreciated.  I can't help but think of the cousins this summer that emailed me updates on them and asked the common, How are you?  I replied and tried to be matter of fact about our separation.  I told nothing scandalous, I don't think I was bitter, but I was probably sad.  Strangely they never replied.  I guess they didn't know what to say, or wished I hadn't shared the basics.  We aren't doing well, our boat is capsized and we are furiously paddling for shore and aren't sure we will end up together.  Please keep us in your prayers.

 

Life is bitter, sweet, funny and tragic. It is hard to genuinely express this in our letters.  Maybe that is the really complaint, they aren't genuine enough.  Maybe the bigger question is why some of us have such a hard time being truly genuine with friends and family? I guess other people's problems remind us too much of our own, and none of us want to be left hanging if the other person doesn’t want to reply.

 

There I go again, forgetting my goal, to keep Christmas fun and simple.   Maybe I should simply say:

 We are doing okay,

we get up and try every day,

not every day goes well, 

not every day is bad,

 some things  still make us giggle,

 Hopefully if we keep trusting God it will all work out. 

 

That or,

My kids are cuter than yours,

 but don't feel too bad I am living in a small apartment and it's a big mess,

but hey we can't all be perfect or something equally sarcastic. ; )

You don't know Scat!

I write this at the risk of once again making you jealous about my job.

 

As I was perusing a catalog looking for some entomogolical supplies,  I came across this video for Pest Control Operators (PC0s).

 

If you don't know what scat is you might not find this funny.  Please don't confuse it with the classic jazz type of singing, that is infinately cooler, but not as funny.

 

 

 

I immediately started snickering and laughing, in fact I hadn't laughed that hard since I saw the Spanish version of the popular book Everybody Poops, Todos Hacemos Caca. The title had me laughing like I did in gradeschool everytime someone said that word.

 

Several items stood out and now instead of asking anyone to move that pile of crap, I wil now politely ask that they move that undisturbed scat accumulation.  See Nora is learning how to be nicer.

 

However I completely lost it when my office mate Chris stated:

 

I am a Scatologist, I really know my sh*t.

 

I think he should get t-Shirts made.

 

Shameless Bragging

 Z sang in the children's choir at church last week.  All the kids were pretty cute.

 

Okay this kid isn't mine, but I thought this was so precious that I couldn't help taking a quick pic.  Four years ago I would have thought that poor kid's mom dresses him funny.  Now I know that three year olds can be really insinstent about what they wear.

 

 

Z is the one on the end in the red and white patterned shirt. He is very serious about his singing folks. ; )

 

Max is still learning to talk so he didn't sing. He is currently recruiting for Sesame Street, at least that must be why he has wear this jacket as much as possible.  Cookie Monster wants you!

   

Here they both are at Halloween Howl with their Auntie Mindie Mouse.  Z is a clonetrooper by the way (not a stomtrooper, for the love of God do not get them confused!)  Max was supposed to be Yoda but he wouldn't wear the hat, so he is a  very young Luke Skywalker.

  

 

I'll just title the next sequence "When Jedi Attack."    

   

Have a great weekend everyone!  

Warning: It's not fair to post this without a warning. You might find this a bit sad, I am not trying to be depressing, it's not my intent, but I won't pretend I am such a good writer for that not to be the outcome. I would hope instead you view as just one of my memories, just a story that I am telling.

Halloween is a fun time of year for sure. It's hard not to have fun with all the little bats, goblins, princessi (that is the plural of princess isn't it?) of course my favorite little clonetroopers and yodas. (pictures forthcoming)

It's also birthday time in my family. My dad's was yesterday and his sisters is tomorrow. Today is also the birthday of my nephew. I don't mention this nephew much, but I want to recognize him today. He's special to me for many reasons.

When I found out I was pregnant with Z, my brother was excited and there was a hint of something in his voice that made me question whether or not his wife didn't have a little goblin on the way. He denied that they would ever have kids, but strangely enough, about a month later they announced they were expecting.

After we found out we were having a boy, we were discussing names and I had one name I had to have, Sterling. It was my grandfather's middle name, and I wanted to use it. In fact we had picked out Jackson Sterling. (Try that on with a southern accent, it just seems to need it when you say it.) Then my brother and his wife found out they were having a boy too, and then they said his name was going to be Sterling Bowen. I let him have it since they announced it first. Hence we got Zachary Quinn, who isn't named after anyone.

I also did it out of guilt. You see by then we knew that Sterling was going to have problems his ultrasound had shown that he had a diaphragmatic hernia and that his intestines were growing through a hole in his diaphragm and into the top of the chest cavity, restricting the growth of his lungs and his heart. The doctors were hopeful but the odds weren't good. 50/50 chance he would survive his birth, 50/50 chance he would survive the surgery and so on. My brother and his wife faced it with such a positive attitude, such grace. They were positive and not overcome with fear.

Z was born and other than being small he was fine. We waited for Sterling, and prayed for the best. He arrived on Halloween, he fought a brilliant fight. However went to live with the grandpa he was named after on Thanksgiving that year, a short 26 days later, never leaving the NICU at UNM. I was heartbroken, I knew his mama just got to hold him once, my brother only did after he was gone and he drove him from Albuquerque to Artesia to be buried. I hurt so bad for them knowing what they were missing as I held my 6 week old at his cousins funeral. I can only imagine what they have gone through, but they have done it so well.

They have continued to be brave in spite of this and have a beautiful boy Wyatt who is 2 1/2 and my sweet neice, Kadence, who was born two weeks ago. I know today they will probably go have a little party by Sterling's headstone. It is very important to them that we remember him and not just forget that he was here. When someone asks how many grandkids there are I always include him in the number. However I feel weird if they ask and more questions because the numbers don't add up and wonder how many kids there are. Weird because I always get that questioning look. Why would you bring that up? I know my mom isn't comfortable with it, I don't think she likes to talk about it. I try to respect that too.

I make sure my sons know about him. We talk about him, and on his birthday and at Christmas we pick out a present and give it away to charity. When Z had an imaginary friend last year, I liked to think it was Sterling. When I lament how my kids don't get to know their great-grandfather, I comfort myself imagining how much fun Sterling must be having with him. I wonder if Great Auntie Bell has him dancing while she plays her fiddle. On that side of the family all the great aunts and uncles are gone and they doted on us and I imagine them doting on him. I imagine him asking questions and saying funny things like Z. I imagine what he looks like now.

In Latin American cultures it is customary to observe Dia de los Muertos (Day of the Dead)tomorrow and go and decorate the cemetery remembering those who have passed. Here where I live, it is customary to make retablos that tell the about the lives of those who have passed. This is a retablo for my nephew.

It's hard to imagine that this tragedy had a purpose, although it serves as a poignant reminder to cherish my children. It's not easy to make sense of these things, to find the silver (sterling) linings. While the story is sad, and I'll admit to have shed a tear writing it, I don't tell it for your sympathy. I tell it because I can't be with my brother today. I tell it to remember. I tell in his honor. I tell it because I love that little guy, and hope to meet him someday.

Happy 4th Birthday Sterling. We love you!