One Word Says A Lot

I want to thank all who participated in the “give me one word to describe how nuts I am” contest.  Well, not exactly a contest because nobody won anything, but it was very helpful.

I also thought about using the Venn Diagram for this writing.  I mean, it has come in handy before.  Anyone who has not had the pleasure of the  Venn Diagram, it is pictured below sort out your thoughts and helps you write:

Let’s organize the words in the Venn, shall we?  Ummm, hmmmm.  Let’s see, do I put sparkly and hairy together?  Or perhaps adorable should go with sparkly because sparkly is quite adorable.  Maybe, I should put Shaun’s choice of erratic with unforgettable and hilarious!  Yes!  Because my behavior is unforgettable, hilarious and somewhat erratic!  I do have to laugh at the word, erratic.  Erratic mean unpredictable.  Now those who really know me, know that I break a sweat when things don’t go in the right order.  Talk about breaking out in hives!  

I love when I was described as crazy, and not in the “lock you in a mental hospital” type crazy.  At least I hope not!  I think the craziness is because I love to make people laugh and to make them feel good.  If I can make someone laugh each day, my goal is accomplished.  

I loved all these words that described me, yet in my world I describe myself as…….I don’t know, it depends on the day.  Never would I say, “Gee, Kathy, you are so wonderful, pat yourself on the back.”  We are our own worst critics.  I know if I ever got into a wrestling ring with myself, who knows which “self” would win.  I think both would get beaten pretty bad.

My husband described me as an angel.  I read the various definitions of an angel, and the one I like best is “messenger.”  Maybe I am the messenger, to deliver laughs and make people smile.  If I make someone smile, that in turn makes me smile.

I am my own messenger service, even though I didn’t know it.  Delivering laughs to one and all.  But don’t expect me to cruise around on a bike delivering these messages.  Always stay tuned on the computer.  If I crash my bike, I would be hurt.  If i crash my computer, this would just hurt my purse.  :P 

Dub WHAT?

I am a fan of all types of music.  If you come into my realm, I am sure I can find something you would like.  Then I came across Dub Step.  I know, Dub WHAT?  Let me school you.

To put it simply, Dub Step is a genre of electronic music.  Upon my research, the tempo is about 138-142 beats per minute.  Tap your foot to THAT, people.  If I were describe Dub Step it is like this: 

• Put on a strobe light at fast speed.
• Now, if possible, find an album or 45 record and put it on a 78 speed.
• Turn on another strobe light at fast speed.
• Clap your hands to the strobe light.
• When you can’t take it anymore, start slamming your head against the wall because it is a repetitive type music that can be maddening.

Okay, so maybe not do the last one, but hopefully you get the idea.  I had tried several times to listen to this type of music and would have to turn it off because I thought my ears were going to pop off my head.

Fast forward to when the Columbia College son came home.  Here I am sitting in the living room and heard electronic music that reminded me of the 80’s!  WHAT??  I am so proud!  Shaun has finally realized what great synthesized music we had back in the days of neon clothes (which are back, by the way.  However, I can’t quite pull off the “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go” shirt with George Michaels short, SHORT shorts).  

Getting back to Shaun’s revelation of 80’s music, when I asked him what 80’s group he was listening to he didn’t say Duran Duran or The Eurhythmics.  What he did say was, “Skrillex.”  Not only was I shocked that he wasn’t listening to 80’s music, but I was shocked that I liked Skrillex, which happens to be Dub Step!  Can I listen to it over and over?  No, I can’t.  But I can listen to it without wanting to slam my head into the wall.

Why am I writing about this?  I never want to be a closed minded person who only listens to one type of music.  BORING!  I have enjoyed all genres.  No offense to my parents, because I love them dearly, but I believe they came from the generation who only listened to a certain type of music.  Therefore, when different things came out, it was probably kind of shocking.  Yes, Marilyn Manson is kind of “shocking.”  Do I have his music?  You bet.  I look past his “weirdness” and like his music.  Great marketing by Marilyn Mason, by the way.  Want people to listen?  Shock them, etc.

I am proud to say, I will be rocking to music until the end.  AND, I will always be plopped on my couch for each music awards!  Why?  Because I’m cool like dat!

Dance Of The Sugar Plum Phone

Back in my younger days I used to take dance lessons and also gymnastics.  I loved it.  I loved the “tap, tap, tap” of my tap shoes; however, I had to practice in the basement due to the loudness.  Me?  Loud?  NEVER!  I also loved gymnastics.  I was known to cartwheel all the way from our rental house down to the lake when we were on vacation.  Why do I bring dancing and gymnastics up now?  Well, because of my phone, of course!

Ok, let me explain.  My phone and I are in a somewhat battle with each other.  You see, I just want to plug in my phone and have it charge.  My phone has a different agenda.  My phone wants me to “dance” with it.

Every night I go through the same ritual.  Plug in the phone….wait…plug in the phone….wait….plug in the phone and stare longingly into the wallpaper of the phones eyes to wait for that charge light.  Sounds easy enough.  Nope.  My phone and I go through a series of dances.  It is not up to me what determines which type of dance we do, it is up to the phone.  

Some nights, the phone is happy with a slow Waltz.  Other times, it’s like I am doing a Cha Cha, or better yet a Lindy Hop.  Yes, I believe the Lindy Hop is a better description.  Apparently, besides going back and forth, my phone loves to be put in the air…a lift you might say.

I never took ballet; however, this is also what my phone likes to do. Many a plie have been done to charge the phone.  If only I had a bar put in my room, this would make it much easier.  I might add, depending on how my phone is acting, this would also determine the type of bar needed in the room.  Malibu and pineapple, anyone?

So I practice nicely with my phone all the various dances just to charge it.  Instead of being impatient with the phone, I just learn to be patient and let the phone choose when it is ready to quit the dance.  I have learned if I shake and growl at the phone, this does NOTHING.  Kind of like when you ask your child to do something and it could take 10 years to do.  

I will continue to do my dance of the sugar plum phone.  Why not get a new one?  Well, it is not time to get one, of course.  Isn’t it always that way?  When something breaks, the warranty runs out, etc. etc.  Maybe my phone will let ME choose a dance for a change.  Like this fabulous picture of “me” doing the epic water dance.   

leaf olympics

Write so others can “see.“  What if you yourself can’t “see“ what to write?  PROBLEM!  Writers block…that’s what I have had.  You sit and stare at a screen or a piece of paper.  Why aren’t things automatically jumping onto the screen?  Why isn’t my pen magically writing?  Why is it words sometimes just flow so easy, and other times it’s like trying to go number 2 and it JUST WON’T COME OUT!!!  Got your attention?  Are you able to “see?”  J

Ok, my summer in a nutshell?  Painful.  I am happy to announce I had pain in places that I never had before.  Lucky me!  However, the pool was a big help.  When you are by yourself in the pool, you tend to get creative.  How, you may ask?  By playing leaf Olympics.  Oh yes, since the Olympics was this summer, it was much easier for me to make up my own sport, rather than trying to do a “real” sport.  Examples of the types of strokes that made me create my own:   the breast stroke, more like the “beast stroke.”  Or the fly stroke, more like the “drowning bug stroke.”  Better yet, the butterfly stroke or as I would put it the “splashing around madly looking ridiculous stroke.”

The leaf Olympics was a wonderful time.  See, behind my pool, we have about a million trees that like to do a dance.  Unfortunately, the trees dance like they are strippers…shaking off their leaves.  Where do they land?  In the pool, hence the leaf Olympics.  

I didn’t have any type of preparation before diving in.   Michael Phelps swats his back with his arms like there are bugs all over him.  Me? I just put on my goggles.  What a pro I was swimming back and forth across the pool. The leaves that were at the top of the pool were always the first.  Then, after about a 100 were cleared away, down to the bottom of the pool.  We do have a center drain, which can be quite dangerous!  Many a time I thought the center drain was going to suck me in and send me right to our filter.  How shocked would my husband have been when letting the air out of the filter and out came his wife, complete with leaves all over, of course.

This was the daily ritual, which took about 10 minutes or more depending on how much the trees “shook that thang.”  I may have crabbed a lot about the leaf Olympics, but I sure do miss it already.  In the pool = no pain.

So, keep a watch out for leaf Olympics in the next summer games.  With all my practice, I am guaranteed to get the gold!

Mom

Mom,

From the first tears shed as I came into this world.  You held me in your arms and said everything would be okay.

To the tears I shed when the world seemed to be crumbling down.  You held me in your arms and said everything would be okay.

Thank you, mom, for providing me with life.

Thank you, mom, for telling me I would be alright.

You held me up when I thought I couldn’t go on.

You taught me how to be strong.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!  Thank you for all you do.  Your arms are my pillars……pillars of strength.

Love, Kathy  5/11/12

If I Were To Leave Today

If I Were To Leave Today

If I were to leave today, would all the pain go away?

Would I wake up ready to take flight, without having to put up a fight?

Would I be able to grip, because now my hands constantly slip?

Would I be able to take one step forward, without always seeming to have to take five steps back?

Would I look up into the sky and see beautiful colors, instead of the constant shades of gray?

Would I place my feet on the ground and not stumble, because now my body crumbles.

Would I wake up with smiling eyes, instead of the tears that seem to constantly flow down the sides?

If I were to leave today, would all the pain go away?

Happy 20th birthday, Peanut!

No longer a teenager!  What’s that about?  Since this is Shaun’s Golden Birthday, I thought I would take a trip down memory lane. 

When I was pregnant with Shaun, I was working downtown.  It was always quite humorous to see “the suits” put up their papers on the train, so they couldn’t see the pregnant woman and have to give up their seat.  Whatever, guys.  It was always a woman who would give you their seat.  After all, the Wall Street Journal requires being read when sitting.  Anyway, I always knew Shaun would be Shaun.  His plaque was already hanging in his room.  Thank goodness I was correct; otherwise we would have had a “Shaunina” running around.  Just kidding, I wouldn’t do this to a child.

I was a few weeks early and quite upset that I didn’t get to finish Lamaze class.  After all, you got free gifts when you went AND free juice and cookies!  Shaun decided to come into the world, or should I say he knocked on my uterus, during Oprah.  I admit, I didn’t want to go to the hospital.  Come ON!  Oprah is on!  However, after calling the doctor, he said to head over to the hospital.  I was hooked up to all the various machines and thought to myself, “Hey, this labor thing isn’t too bad.”  Since I missed the rest of Lamaze, I am sure I missed the part that said, “WHEN YOUR WATER BREAKS, WATCH OUT!”  As you can guess, they had to break my water.  Talk about an angry uterus!  And by the way, OUCH!

If there can be a “best part of labor” I always throw this in because it is my favorite.  You know how you have your coaches?  Well, my mom was in the room with me trying to get me through this pain.  All I remember is my mom quietly hissing in my ear, “ss, ss, who, ss, ss, who.”  I probably rolled my eyes and was thinking to myself, “WHY IS MY MOTHER HISSING AT ME?  IS SHE PART SNAKE TODAY?  PLEASE STOP!  YOU ARE NOT HELPING MY PAIN, YOU ARE MAKING ME ANGRY!”  Fast forward to delivery.  Shaun was an easy birth and came out with a couple pushes.  Thank goodness. I think Shaun heard his grandma hissing and was in a hurry to see what this woman looked like AND if she was part cobra.

Shaun and I enjoyed quite a few cries together those first few months.  While looking at each other, I would say to him, or should I say cry at him, “I FED YOU, I CHANGED YOU, I BURPED YOU, WHAT DO YOU WANT???”  I knew what I wanted…a drink!

How cute is a toothless grin?  Shaun was always all smiles bouncing up and down in his crib.  One day, when I went to check on him, to my HORROR a cold was starting and snot was running down his nose.  He was all smiles and jumping, as I quickly grabbed a Kleenex, looked away, and full out GAGGED!  Poor kid.  To this day, I can’t handle snot.

There is nothing like having the flu and having your toddler tell you he is going to call Nickelodeon’s Big Help and donate.  Shaun didn’t care that my head was in the toilet.  He came running in the bathroom, saw me spewing like Reagan in the Exorcist, and continued to tell me he was going to call.  Whoever doesn’t think staying at home with your child is NOT hard work needs to try it.  Moms can’t be sick.  Thank goodness I was able to crawl from the bathroom and get the phone away from Shaun.  Who KNOWS how much he would have donated.  

The years with Shaun have flown by.  Like it or not, I was there for him all during his elementary years being part of the PTO and as a room parent.  I think he was okay having me there with him, even though he may not admit to it.  There were two LOUD MOUTHS in the building at the time.  Yes, I said two.  Those of you, who have had the pleasure of knowing me and Shaun, and especially Shaun during his elementary school days, know he was also a loud mouth and NEVER QUIET.  Shocking now when you see Shaun.  He almost didn’t go on the 6^th grade field trip due to all his yapping. 

The creative mind, which is what Shaun has, is truly amazing.  Shaun has smarts, art, and music talent.  I heard all through his elementary school years that while Shaun was happily doodling, a teacher would call on him ON PURPOSE.  What made them mad was he would know the answer.  How lucky is that?  I can’t even go to the bathroom unless there is total silence, otherwise I get distracted and don’t know what I am doing. I love this story from his 4^th grade teacher.  The teacher was going around helping other students with science.  Shaun was, of course, drawing.  She looked at Shaun and said to him, “If you want to draw, go in the hall!”  Well, any “normal” kid, including me would know that if a teacher is saying this to you, she means STOP what you are doing.   Not Shaun.  He packed up his stuff, and went in the hall to draw.  The teacher had told me she was in shock and didn’t know what to think.  I have kept all notes from his teachers because it is quite funny to look back.  His 1^st grade teacher loved to catch him in the act in the bathroom.  Not the actual catch him in the act peeing, but catch him in the act bouncing off walls, urinals, etc.  Shaun would always say to me, “I don’t like that you are friends with all the teachers because you take their side!”   My response?  “Shaun, are you supposed to be jumping on the urinals?  Are you supposed to be playing Spiderman in the bathroom?  You BET YOUR BUTT I side with the teachers because you shouldn’t be doing those things.”  Oh what a terrible mama I am.

If we have to do an “I’ll admit” as you see on Facebook…I’ll admit Shaun’s high school years were very trying.  When he decided to buy a tattoo gun (shock enough) then tattooing 666 on his fingers.  I probably turned every shade of red possible.  I looked at Shaun and yelled, “YOU ARE NOT SATAN’S CHILD YOU ARE MY CHILD!”  Shaun tried to stop me from leaving, but I told him his best bet would be to get out of my way before I push him down the stairs.  Needless to say, by the time I got back, he had tattooed over the numbers.   High school was tough for Shaun.  Losing his best friend Brandon, was one of the toughest things ever, followed by the death of his grandfather.  Quite a lot to digest in the matter of a month.  I am happy to say that even though his friend Brandon is no longer here, Shaun remains best friends with Brandon’s brother Sean, whom I consider my son as well.  I can’t not mention Russell, Kyle, and Colton.  They continue to see Shaun frequently, and Russell is just as crazy and loud as me, so Shaun really enjoys when we visit together.

A good friend had told me to enjoy the voluntary hugs you get and that one day you will wake up and they will stop.  It was true.  By the time 4^th grade came around, there were no voluntary good night hugs.  However, Shaun at least continued to say “good night.”  It is exciting and scary watching your child grow up.  Even through all the “bad times” in high school, Shaun graduated with an Honors Diploma and he also graduated early.  I am proud Shaun has found his niche at Columbia College and also wants to go to summer school.  I love the person he is becoming and am excited to see what his future holds. 

This is my birthday tribute to Shaun.  Even though I don’t miss the “I wonder when he will be home?”  I do miss the, I wonder when he will be home?  Happy 20^th birthday, Shaun!  I love you lots!

All Grown Up

I have a headache and could NOT wait to get home to change out of everything and sit and stare at the wall, TV, ANYTHING.  Then, I received a call…it was my “other” son.  I have “adopted” many of these “other” sons over the years.  They have stayed at my house, swam in my pool, gotten in trouble together, and have EATEN ME OUT OF HOUSE AND HOME!

It was a simple request, “Do you mind if I come over your house for a little bit?”  Even though the headache was still there, my answer was simply “yes, no problem.”  Plans were being made via text and phone calls to my Shaun in Chicago.  Headache still in tow, I was asked if I could take them to the train station to get to my Shaun, their best friend since a very young age.  My eyes could be falling out of my sockets and head exploding and the answer would always be “yes.”  It makes me smile they are all still friends after all these years.

I hate the thought they are all growing up, and growing up in all ways.  When I was asked about giving a ride to the train station, the next question was, “Do you need any gas money?”  First of all, “What?”  Second of all, I would never take money.  I thought to myself, what a grownup thing to do!  I know adults who would never offer money, but a young adult is offering money so he can see his buddy, my son.  When it comes to Shaun’s friends, they are never trouble.  I picture myself as a candle in a candelabra, and Shaun and his friends are the surrounding candles, all beautifully lit.  True, there may be some flames that have been extinguished from the circle of candles, unfortunately; there are many that are lit and burning strong.

All these “sons” used to look up at me.  When I spoke to them, I would look down.  Now, as hugs are exchanged, I am looking up into their eyes.  Until my flame has been extinguished, I will continue to burn strong for all my “sons,” both blood and adopted. 

Underdog

With my job, I work with many types of kids.  All types of personalities and home lives.  You always run across a child with that “wow” factor.  You may be thinking the star athlete or the child that can figure math out in his/her head with no problem.  Not so with me.  My “wow” factor child is the underdog.  The child that does not have that great of a home life.  The child that wasn’t exposed to anything until they stepped through the doors of the school. 

There is a sweet little girl in my class that is the underdog.  She walked into school not knowing colors or how to write her name.  Yes folks, this does happen and we see it all the time.  When Shaun was getting tested for kindergarten, I was worried he didn’t know ENOUGH.  Besides knowing the basics, colors, shapes, name, address, etc., I made sure I got out those math flash cards to practice facts in case he needed to do a timed test.  Ok, I didn’t do that; however, he did know the basics and also he knew how to tie his shoes.  Tying shoes is not a kindergarten standard and needs to be learned at home…..so do a lot of things.

Getting back to my underdog.  When she first walked into school, you couldn’t get her to smile.  She would look at you and turn her head.  Or look at you, and look down.  Second semester came around and there is a different girl.  This girl has more confidence and though she struggles, she TRIES.  She has come a long way from knowing absolutely nothing. 

This girl has now become my “buddy.”  She loves the silly songs I sing in the hallway and now smiles and looks up when I point at her while singing.  Lately, I turn my head and she is next to me.  Out on the playground, her tiny hand holds mine.  Walking in from recess, she also holds my hand into the building.  Her hands are quite cold.  When I asked her where her gloves were, she said she didn’t have any.  Well, that problem is solved…I bought her two pairs. 

I wish the best for this little girl through her life.  I hope she feels comfortable with me and knows that if she ever needs a good listening ear, I will be there for her.  It is a good feeling to see growth and confidence in a child.  J

Change

Today I was sitting here pondering some things.  Okay, it just hasn’t been today that I have been pondering.  What am I pondering?  Change.  Though people say change is good, this girl goes CRAZY.  If anyone has seen Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory, I get what he is saying.  You can’t wear your Tuesday pajamas on a Thursday!  One of my big “changes” is seeing Shaun on a Friday.  During his first semester, Wednesday was the perfect day.  He didn’t have school and I got out of work early.  When his next semester arrived, I began to itch and get flustered trying to figure out what day was best to see him, since it now could not be Wednesday.  Shaun had asked me, “Well, why not Friday?”  My response?  “Well, because it’s Friday and I can’t come down on a Friday because I am sure you have plans on a Friday because you are 19.”  Shaun’s response?  “Okay, that doesn’t make sense but whatever.”

What am I leading to with all this nonsense?  The reality that an even greater change is coming to my house this summer.  While other students will be returning to their homes, my student is remaining in Chicago and moving into another apartment.  I can’t even sell him on the fact we have a POOL, because his apartment complex has a pool. So as the realization that Shaun will probably not be spending a lot of time here in his room, the worst part of this entire “change” thing is he will be taking his bed.  Why is this a big deal?  Well, a bed has occupied his room in this house since he was in 2^nd grade.  Even now, I like to open the door and look around.  Nothing has been touched since he went back to Chicago in January.  The new reality will soon be opening that door, looking in and seeing emptiness.  Well, if that doesn’t just kick a mom in the stomach. 

Shaun has been in my life since I was 23.  It is difficult trying to wrap my mind to pre-Shaun.  Where was I pre-Shaun?  Working in downtown Chicago.  What was I doing at the age of 20?  Well, I lived by myself.  Hmmm, there is something familiar here.  But this is different!  I mean, he’s my son! 

As I sit here and ponder my thoughts I have to keep in mind that when I was Shaun’s age, I wanted to start my life, too.  And maybe also think that there is another round of living to do with my life. 

Music...taking me back

As we all know, I am an AVID music lover.  I love all kinds of music and my collection varies from metal to classical.  Anybody who comes over is likely to find something that will make their toes tap.  Rumor has it, from a very reliable source; I would take a stool, put it by the living room stereo and watch the records play.  I would also sit by this stereo, take a 45 record and move it back and forth while singing.  I was my own personal jukebox. 

I had a realization yesterday when I was listening to the radio.  None of the new songs “take me back.”  You know what I am talking about.  A song on the radio that makes you remember….takes you back.  Since I am “old”, I was also wondering if the “take you back” only is when you are young.  Our lives are so busy when we are older and  there are so many things we have to keep track of, as adults, I am finding it quite sad that I don’t have remember moments for the “new music.”  Here are some examples of my “take me back” music.

When I went to my grandma’s, there was an entirely different type of music to listen to.  My grandparents had the old 78 records that you needed a crane just to pick up.  Ok, slight exaggeration.  I can close my eyes and see the three that I always had to play.  A yellow label was on this particular 78, and the song was a canary singing.  The blue label was the song September Song.  And then there was Riders in the Sky by Vaughn Monroe and His Orchestra.  I did find these on the computer; however, there is nothing like watching the 78 spin, crackle, and pop.

Magic, by Pilot.  Still love this song, as well.  I was in 1^st grade, and a kid I went to school with would ride around on his bike with a radio attached to it.  When he stopped by my house, Magic was playing.  This is what I envision whenever I hear this song.

When I hear Starlight Vocal Band’s Moonlight Feels Right, it takes me back to the summer before entering 3^rd grade.  This was the summer my brother was hit by a car.  Even though the accident was not a good thing, I still love the song.  When my brother had come home from the hospital, I remember playing it since this was “the summer song” back then.

When my husband and I got together, the song that was on rotation on the radio was Dreams Can Come True.  Perfect tune for the both of us, as I had wanted to go out with Andy forever.  We have known each other since the 4^th grade.  There were various proposals of marriage in high school, all of which he stared at me with big blue eyes and was on one knee.  I never said yes until 10 years out of high school.  See, dreams do come true.

I also can’t forget John Lennon’s song Beautiful Boy.  I used to sing this to my Shaun when he was a baby.  How perfect the last line in the song mentions the name Shaun.

I could go on and on, but I think you catch my drift.  It kind of saddens me that I no longer have these “song moments” to bring me back.  However, I am glad that I do have music to take me back.  Even though we all need to push forward into the future, it is nice to close your eyes and go back in time.

Flares, flares, FLARES!

Meds to move

This is the real me.  

Flares, flares, FLARES!   It’s been awhile, so I guess it is time.  But I am not ready.  As I write this, the pain has traveled up my arms.  Forget about my feet.  The Frankenstein walk is very becoming and sexy.  To add to the mix, headaches.  Good times.

I need to go grocery shopping, but somehow I don’t think that will happen.  Just exhausted.  No amount of sleep helps because all you want to do is sleep.  Even going to bed at 7:30 at night just doesn’t give you enough sleep.  I hate to see when I am older. 

I have said it before and I will say it again, thank goodness for the kids at school.  They keep me moving and focused on them for the school day.  When the day is over and I have to go home, I collapse. 

One of my beautiful friends is able to control things naturally.  I know she sometimes still has a hard time though.  I wish I could do what she does; however, when I try to get off things all hell breaks loose.

I also worry about Shaun.  Already he is dealing with going to doctors, all having various diagnosis’.  How frustrating.  I know how he feels because I have dealt with this my entire life.  He was always a pretty healthy child, and I hope it continues into his adult life.  Hopefully this recent thing is just a bump in the road.

What is it like to go out?  I have no clue because I am too exhausted to do anything.  Sad…but I have learned that I have to do what is right for me and listen to my body.  Even though I hate what it says sometimes. 

Here is to all of us out there dealing with this crap.  May we gather strength from each other, be it face to face or through cyber land.

Epitaph

An epitaph is a short text honoring a deceased person.  Maybe other people, besides me, have wondered what would be said at their funeral.  Or, if you are like me, wonder would anyone show up?  What would be said?  Here lies Kathy, beloved mother, daughter, and wife.  She was accomplished in……   In what?  If you were to ask me, I have accomplished nothing.  Take that back.  Shaun is one of my accomplishments.  He is everything I wanted him to be…independent and strong.  Which is a good and bad thing.  But Shaun is Shaun and will be fine.  Every time I see a picture or hear his music, I smile.

Me, on the other hand, I don’t know.  I guess the empty nest thing can really get you thinking.  I look around and just don’t know.  If I walk into the light this second, what would it be like?  Can I really say I have done and accomplished great things?  Not really.  Yes, I had a child; however, so do a lot of other women.

I have heard people say death is not a scary thing.  To me, it is.  If I think about it, I get in an emotional turmoil.  My heart beats quickly and I panic.  I think to myself, “You have not accomplished anything in your life.  Nice job.”  But I really shouldn’t worry because I won’t be here anyway.  Dust to dust, right?

When I think about things I want to accomplish, it would be just a dream.  When I was younger, I was a type of powerhouse.  I wanted to be the best in everything I did, and if I didn’t I would try until I did.  Playing 2^nd clarinet was not good enough, I must play 1^st chair.  I must be drum major.  Those things happened because I pushed myself.  When I was younger, a much better epitaph could have been written.

Even Mozart wrote his Requiem, which is beautiful and what I am listening to now.  But Mozart was somebody.  I am……..???

Bringing It Back

Nothing screams style more than skirt pants.

My mom is a smart lady.  She has always said that all styles come back around.  As I look in some stores, to my horror, the 80’s attire smacks me in my face.  Oh, don’t get me wrong, I loved the 80’s attire.  I think back then the more obnoxious the better.

Way back in the 80’s, big earrings were the “it” thing.  When I see the big earrings on display now, I was shocked that they were so light weight!  When I wore big 80’s earrings, back in the day, your earlobe would practically be down to the ground they were so heavy.  That didn’t stop us 80’s girls.  We wore them and didn’t complain.  Well, we wore them and maybe there were some complaints, but we kept it to ourselves.

You would think with all the bandanas that were owned, there were many teens who were working hard labor jobs.  Jobs that needed those bandanas to wipe brows from the sweat that was dripping from foreheads.  Yeah, right.  The bandanas were for style.  Not the red and blue ones, those were too boring.  They were striped like a tiger or leopard.  Sometimes, they were fluorescent.  Instead of wiping our brows with them, you could see many a male wearing them on their leg or arm.  Or, if they were in a band, they were hanging gracefully from the microphone stand.  Don’t even THINK about wiping your sweaty self with one of these.

How about those jeans?  Stonewashed, whitewashed, a little bit of this and that washed.  You didn’t wear them for comfort, you wore them tight.  I remember many times lying on my bed zipping up those jeans.  Sometimes, I would even have to put a safety pin on the inside just to make sure they would stay closed.  I did a lot of standing during those days.  Why sit and be comfortable?  The point was to look good.  If you sat, you ran the risk of safety pins breaking open, your fly flying open, and your gut going through the opening of your jeans.  Nothing says sexy like your stomach poking through.

The best for last?  Hairspray.  The bigger the hair, the better.  Aqua Net was the choice, but I also added Stiff hairspray.  I could have gone through a hurricane and tornado combined and my hair would have stayed.  Doing your hair was dangerous with these hairsprays.  All I can say is, thank goodness the flaming shot was not popular back then.  There would have been many hair fires to put out.  Yes, I was one of those people who burnt their hair.  My friend Maureen was having a party at her house.  I went into the bathroom to check myself, lit my cigarette and then asked myself, “What the heck is that smell?”  You guessed it, the bangs caught fire.  Just a little though and I needed a trim anyway.  Washing your hair the next day was always a treat.  With all the gunk on my hair, I would have to wash it twice.  Then, I would repeat the whole hairspray thing after the cleaning.  I am sure my hair was saying, “Why is she doing this to me?  She does a spiral perm and then weighs me down with this stinky hairspray!”

So as I sit back and watch the styles come back, I will continue with my no perm straight hair with just a touch of hairspray.  The picture of me is in one of my 80’s attire, again back in the 80’s not now.  Oh how cute the little skirt over the pants were; however, I will take my sweats for comfort any day.

Let's go on an adventure

If you ever feel like going on an adventure, feel free to come with me to Chicago.  I must add, the adventure is also with my parents.  Be prepared to bring snacks, your Ipod, your blinders, and Imodium.  I love my parents and once we get to our destination all is well and fun is had by all.  Key word is “get.”  Let me take you on the journey. 

Ah, Chicago.  A beautiful city full of one way streets and traffic.  Thank goodness for the Dan Ryan or the Toll Road.  An easy drive to get downtown.  No worries.  Wait, did I say thank goodness for the Dan Ryan or the Toll Road?  I am sorry, my bad.  You see our “adventure” begins by going on Route 41, or the beautiful and scenic route of Indianapolis Boulevard.  Oh, sure.  My dad tries to trick you into thinking you are taking the toll road; however, let’s exit onto 41 shall we?  Why not?  Let’s be adventurous.  After all, we are going on an adventure today.

Now, let’s take a Type A Personality, like myself, who loves a routine and just wants to get from point A to point B with no problems.  Mix this Type A person with the whispers from the front seat of the car saying, “Is this the turn?”  What do you get?  A stressed out Type A personality who has now brought out a cross and is praying the rosary.  Nice picture, right?

My parents can be nostalgic, which I know I am, too.  However, if I have to pass by a few hookers to go to a place where I used to frequent as a youth, you can bet I won’t.  Here is a story my parents tell me every time we venture down good old Route 41: “You know, Don used to live around here.”  Key words, parental units, USED TO!  As in, no longer do they live there.

As my parents are having a great time down memory lane, I continue to pray the rosary.  I also added my brown paper bag to breathe in and out of.  Too bad the car doesn’t have an oxygen mask that just pops down in case of an emergency.

Another thing I have heard numerous times during our adventure is:  “Wow, look at all the buildings boarded up,” or “These streets are in horrible shape.”  YOU THINK?  Gee, I wonder why they aren’t fixing those streets.  After all, you should have smooth pavement for the police officers to bust up that drug deal on the corner.  AND, for the firemen, they need to put those fires out prior to boarding up the buildings!  Duh!

We do always end up at our destination; however, instead of 30 or 40 minutes, it takes about an hour.  In case you didn’t know, the Dan Ryan and Toll Road do not have stop lights; however, the scenic route of Indianapolis Boulevard has plenty of stop lights for you.  The lights take about 10 minutes to change, so you have many photo opportunities to share with family or to post on Facebook.  Instead of looking at Cellular Field on your way to Chicago, you can look at the different groups hanging out on the corners or catch the people drinking out of a paper bag.  Do my parents know these people could want my oxygen mask, a/k/a brown paper bag, and try and take it from me!

I think you get the picture.  This is why I enjoy the train.  No worries.  They take you from point a to point b with no problems.  So, people, I ask you, why take the expressway and risk traffic when you can go the Cabrini Green route and risk being shot at?  Happy travels!

Dedicated to my mom and dad, the world’s most adventurous people I know.