...but I didn't

I'm a crier. I cry. It's what I do when I'm sad. Or happy. Or laughing uncontrollably. I cry when Peter comes home for Christmas on the Folgers commercial. I cry when I hear a song. I always cry when my children are hurting. I often cry when others children are hurting. I cry at weddings. Funerals. As a matter of fact, I cry so easily I've considered offering my services to funerals of those who may not actually have someone to cry at their passing. I think you get the picture.
Today I decided I wouldn't cry. Not because I didn't want to, but because I needed not to. I've tried before not to cry in difficult situations to no avail. Usually when I'm feeling like crying I do. Sometimes at inopportune times, but that's a whole other story.
Today I went to visit a former student. This is something I do occasionally. Especially with students who have wormed their way in to my heart. Those that I see something in that others don't. Those who don't have someone in their corner not just when they're on the ropes, but don't have someone in their corner when the other guy is on the ropes. I've always been a supporter of underdogs.
It's just sometimes, when you really listen to a kid, and notice responses, and figure out how they see the world you can see something special in that kid. All kids are special, but when there's a human connection with kid and I'm lucky enough to see the true potential in that person it brings a rush of emotions: happy, sad, fortunate, gratitude, and worry. Happy because seeing that possible future is truly a gift to me. Sad as usually that very kid rarely can see or feel their potential. Fortunate speaks for itself. Gratitude for the great honor it is to be allowed in to a kids life. Especially a kid who has no reason to trust yet another 'well-meaning' adult.
Back to today. It was a first for me. The former student I visited was in a locked juvenile facility. And it's not pretty there. Upon arrival and after going through a metal detector I had to lock up my phone, purse, coat, keys...did I mention my phone?...in a locker. I can't tell you the last time I was not in the same room as my phone. This is a sidebar to the story, but, it was unnerving to leave it. I was escorted through two secured doors to a long stairway, that led to a long hallway in the basement of the building. We then walked through another locked door to an 'interview' room.
I sat down in the sparse salmon-ish pink room with mismatched chairs, a dirty table, and no clock. I believed I was locked in the room. I later found out I was not. I could hear all the commotion in the hall way, someone talking on the phone and saw youth detainees walk by my window with an escort (guard).
I waited for a long while for T to come in. I didn't know what to expect. I only knew him for about two months, but I told him even if he was no longer 'my' student, I would continue to advocate for him. I lost track of him for over three months. When I finally found where he was I had to get approved to see him. And I waited, having no idea what time it was. The T walked in with a smile that was not forced but not genuine either. And he asked how I had been. And I hugged him. I came to see him and he asks how I have been. This kid, who's been locked up for over two months with NO visitors. Who is now in what is called lockdown (meaning he only gets out of his room for one hour a day for recreation or letter writing). This kid asks how I am doing.
I wanted to cry...but I didn't.

New Business Idea!

So, I think I've got a great idea for a business that has nothing to do with what I deal with in my professional life. It's a money maker. Best yet, it's a needed service in the Omaha area. I am dreaming big on this one!
It started as a rash after changing shampoos. It looked like an allergic reaction, similar to what she's had before. But it didn't go away after a couple of days of treatment. Then it happened. She came out of her room. With something between her fingers. She said, "I found this in my hair." I replied, "Oh, let me see." A phrase that I may never repeat. I took a close look at what would consume my life on and off for the next two weeks and then into the next month. The four letter word that has become the bane of my existence: lice.
Yep, they are as disgusting as you might imagine. But worse than that, they will not go away! In the weeks we've been dealing with this here are the things we have purchased, my comments follow of course:

• Nix, don't bother...oh, and we spent like $90 on treatments for the whole fam-damily
• Vinegar, doesn't hurt, but not very helpful
• Alcohol, rubbing but if you're dealing with this you should have vodka on hand for sanity purposes
• A metal toothed lice/nit comb, helpful but not necessary (not gonna lie, we used a flea comb as you can cover more territory with it)
• Rx Ovide: I'm pretty sure Moo has neurological damage from that treatment! And, kerosene would have been much cheaper and I'm fairly certain it's the same thing.
• Huge trash bags, helpful for transporting all the laundry and keeping it separate from the 'other' laundry
• Laundry Detergent and Dryer sheets, I don't think either has stopped running since this ordeal began
• New pack of combs, helpful
• Head Lice Head Light (thanks for the name Marni!)...a camping or spelunking flashlight you wear on your head: A NECESSITY!
• Magnifying glass and cheap drugstore reading glasses...those damn lice and nits are small!
• A 'daylight' lamp, helps in seeing the little critters
• Vacuum Cleaner Bags, You throw them away after each use...not cheap.
• Listerine, makes me feel better about 'doing' something...but not entirely useful. BUT, it has high alcohol content so you can drink it if you run out of vodka
• Orange Sticks and Toothpicks, To separate the hair
• Drawstring Trash bags for all of the kids in Moo's class to put all outerwear in at their 'hooks'
• Cetaphil Gentle Skin Cleanser, MY SALVATION! Cetaphil for Head Lice

My point. We've spent a TON of money on all this crap. Not to mention the time involved in cleaning the house, doing laundry, nit picking (another term I won't use lightly again), vacuuming furniture, doing laundry, picking live bugs out of hair, nit picking. Did I mention doing laundry?
I would have gladly paid someone else to come in and do all this stuff. That's my business idea. I want to call it De-Louse Your House. Our business would come in and do all the aforementioned and deal with the hassle. I'm guessing we could do it for about the same cost as buying all the crap listed above, not to mention NOT having to deal with ALL of the above.

You can hate me for sharing. You can judge me. You can judge us. It is what it is. You won't understand unless...until you have to deal with it. And I would not wish that on anyone.
And if this doesn't stop going around school I may need donations of vodka to get me through. I prefer Grey Goose, Stoli Blueberry and Vanilla are equally well liked.
Don't be a nitwit! Check your kids for lice if they're itching!

You can't put out a fire by peeing on it

An Omaha  guy lights his ex-girlfriend's house on fire using gasoline and says, and I quote: "As soon as I saw it....I tried to pee on it at first because I didn't know what to do." I thought it was important to 'double quote' this for reasons that may be obvious. This is really dumb and I do not want to misquote this human specimen.
First, if you're pissed (pun intended) at your ex-girlfriend don't go to her house carrying a gas can. Second, if you are so effed up that you choose to set her door on fire, you can't put out that fire by peeing on it. Third, get an attorney and don't talk to the news.
Maybe this story is indicative of our society today. I guess when people are angry they feel they are justified to respond however they want. Without thinking about the consequences for not only the person they are retaliating against, but also the consequences to them. Peeing on a fire is similar to saying sorry when you've purposely done harm. It does nothing to solve the problem and makes you look dumb for trying. Last, has the world learned NOTHING from Law & Order? Come on. Lawyer up and shut your mouth.

Aspiring Annies take the stage - Omaha.com

I meant to share this a couple of weeks ago...

Aspiring Annies take the stage - Omaha.com

Aspiring Schmoo

So, the youngest (aka Schmoo) has decided that she wants to try out for a part in a musical. Not an easy task, even on the local level. She's tried out previously at the community playhouse for a part, to no avail. She has taken dance for five years (and she's pretty good if I do say so myself). But this is a big deal. She is trying out for a part in Annie. Yes, Annie...on Broadway no less. 

She probably won't make it. It's literally like winning the lottery. Her hopes are so high. We've talked about the likelihood of making it. She knows the odds are against her. Yet, she wants to audition. I say, "Good for her." How easy is it for us to sit back and not even try to do the things that are out of reach? Pretty easy. She probably won't even get a second look when auditioning. That's o.k. because at least she is trying.

In our society of 'fifteen minutes of fame-ers' it is hard to want to be an ordinary person. Everyone is famous. And that's the irony, right? When everyone is famous no one is. So, while Schmoo continues to wish to be famous. To wish to be on Broadway. Or, to wish to be star in Hollywood. We'll hold her up as high as we can AND be there to help her get up if she falls. That's all a parent of an aspiring star can do. 

Think of us Sunday afternoon when we're waiting, with the other 800 (let's hope for way less) aspiring stars, and wish us well. Our goal for the day is to have fun and enjoy the experience. That sounds like a good goal for every day.

Wrinkles and Dog Look-Alike

Earlier this week The Boy innocently said I looked like the dog. At the time, I took it to mean that since he is obsessed with how cute and sweet the dog is, that he thought the same of me. I didn't think much about it. Well, I did, but not in an obsessive way. Besides, The Boy adores me...really. 

Then tonight, while tucking said Boy into bed, I laid down beside him and sang him a lullaby. When I asked him what he'd like me to sing he sweetly answered, "Sing anything you want. I just love your voice." What an adorable, loving, and caring boy. He loves me. Oh, what an exceptional child he is.

After singing him a lullaby (All Night, All Day if you care) he sincerely asked me to keep rubbing his head and hair. How could I say no? When it was time for me to leave he very tenderly said, "Mom, you should get rid of your wrinkles." I should have been hurt. I should have been surprised or shocked. I wasn't. I told him that I didn't think that I would be getting rid of the wrinkles. I did not tell him any more than that. Or I would have said that I earned each one by loving and having my heart broken. By living in excess at certain points in my life. By worrying about each of my children for whatever reason that moment. By caring about other people's children because they can't (or worse yet won't). By grieving losses that I wish my children NOT  have to experience, but know they will. The list of badges could go on at length here. I'll stop now. 

So, without telling him that, The Boy says, very sweetly and simply. "They have cream for that."

God, I love that kid. But, I am concerned now that he thinks I look like the dog. I don't care. Not much.

It's ba-aaack!

So, it's back. My on-again, off-again relationship with insomnia. I've had trouble sleeping since I was a kid. My mom would vouch for that. Anyone who has ever lived with me can attest to it...or maybe not because they all seem to SLEEP! It's not just that I have trouble getting to sleep, or staying asleep, it's that sleep is always so close yet so unattainable. I sound like a commercial for the butterfly pill where you're not supposed to operate heavy machinery. Here's my point: I want to be able to lie down in bed and not think of the 100 things I need to complete tomorrow or 99 I did not complete today. I want to lie down, close my eyes and go to sleep like when I was a ki...oh, right, I've had these issues all my life. Maybe it's because I couldn't sleep as a kid that I have trouble sleeping as an adult. I do some of the right things. I have a routine that I use on occasion. I do yoga at least once a year. I don't drink before bed, except when I've been out drinking.
Here's the cruel irony: I love sleep. The one thing I miss most about my life before kids (& now the dog) is sleep. I miss being able to sleep in until it hurts to stay in bed one minute longer. I would relish an uninterrupted nap while a predictable yet highly entertaining Lifetime Movie plays in the background. I think sleep is underrated by those who come by it easily.  Maybe it's that we we want we can't have. I don't know, but sleep is an amazing thing.
My biggest issue is with others who can literally fall asleep sitting in a chair in the middle of a room full of people. What the hell? I can't sleep in my own amazing bed, with great sheets, in perfectly controlled comfort, with not a lot of noise. And you can fall asleep while I'm talking to you? In a room with other people? In a wooden chair no less! Seriously? Most annoying is my own life partner. Is it necessary to flaunt that you can sleep anywhere at any time? Apparently so.
Here's my point. I love sleep. I want sleep. I need sleep. I can't sleep. I don't see this getting better anytime soon.