The Christmas Pumpkin

To the tune of "Oh Christmas Tree"

Oh pumpkin plant, oh pumpkin plant, don't you know its winter time.
Oh pumpkin plant oh pumpkin plant, how lovely are your....blossoms????

October was when Connor planted you. Now what the hell am I going to do!?!
Oh pumpkin plant, oh pumpkin plant how lovely are your blossoms.

You sun yourself, in my window sill. Don't you know outside is a cold wind chill?
Oh pumpkin plant, oh pumpkin plant, how lovely are your blossoms.

I fear a transplant may end your life, but this dixie cup is so not right.
Oh pumpkin plant, oh pumpkin plant, how lovely are your blossoms.

My Christmas Cactus, refuses to bloom. I guess my Christmas Pumpkin will have to do!
Oh pumpkin plant, oh pumpkin plant, how lovely are your blossoms.

Memories and Memory

Michele and I were driving down to Bethesda Sunday when she started talking about a memory from the past. Lyme has messed with my mental wiring, so I cannot tell you what exactly she was talking about - because I was more blown away at the details of her memories. (But I am certain if I call Michele RIGHT NOW and ask her WHAT she was talking about she would be able to tell me!) And I am also certain that I will eventually remember what we were talking about...when it least matters days or weeks from now. But that is what Lyme did to my brain.

Jules AKA CrunchyMom and I have realized that Michele's memory works far differently than does ours. We tend to remember things chronologically. Michele operates by category. And once she pulls a specific category file from her memory file cabinet....holy crap....it is amazing what that woman remembers. Perhaps it has more to do with the number of events and life changes in our lives....For Jules and myself - Omaha is so many, many chapters ago....a lifetime ago, it seems. Jules and I just don't have those memories as Michele does.

And my friends and I have come to understand how hard a time I have pulling memories, past and present, short term and long term. But I have begun to realize that the more people talk about the past, it helps me regain my capacity to remember. Maybe I'm retraining those neuro pathways. I can only hope! Lyme sucks. It takes me longer and much more work retriving those damn files up in my head. They ARE there. I am able to get to them; they are not all lost. Imagine a jammed door. That is what it is like for me right now.

So I'm faced with cracking open the Pandora's box of Omaha memories. They lurk in the basement. Literally -it IS a box o' stuff.

Stupid notes Colleen and I wrote to each other in Middle School.

Silly things Jennifer AKA JT and I did in Elementary School.

Nancy's letters she wrote to me in Lawrence from 1984 (I lived in Lawrence away from my family and studied music at KU that summer before Senior year) through my dorm years. I bet Nancy still remembers when my Mom killed yet another cat while driving down one weekend to stay with me! (see other blog about my cat).

Bobbie and our adventures going to festivals and youth symphony travels.

Michele and choir and the musicals.

Oh the stupid love notes from John and Pat. Westside friends...another box.

And dear God the crazy letters between me and Julie. The radioactive farm animals from South Dakota. I nearly peed my pants today when I found that envelope and letter!

The polkadots. That is one ONLY Jules and Keith would understand.

These are just a few things lurking in the basement storage area.

I guess it is a good thing I threw all those crazy letters, notes and pictures in a box. It will do me more good than I ever imagined. Lyme sucks. But every day I get a little bit more of me back. (I at least tell myself that and like to believe it). I am cretain Julie will dish her 2 cents after I post this.

Several of these people are on my Facebook. And as I reconnect with friends from the past, it helps me regain my memory. But Joe is right - some just don't want to be found. It makes me feel sad, because some are ones I really want to, at the very least, thank for helping me when times were tough and making me laugh.

The basement is calling....

Lime and Lyme

Okay, so many friends have asked...."how are you feeling?" A slew of questions about my health recently. I didn't realize it is just past the 1 year anniversary of my diagnosis of Lyme. It was a year long battle, too.

I think the Lyme is becoming a distant memory (or is it because of the neurological damage to my short term memory?). Or maybe it is because I am 42 and um, getting not so young as I used to be.

Oh, there are residuals. Lyme does some crazy damage. I can't keep potassium in me. No wonder I was having heart and respiratory problems! So I eat a banana a day and carry a bottle of supplements. Lyme in its worst moments sucks the life out of you. And then to always remind you you had it - leaves little problems, like this. I've met others who have the exact same problem post-lyme. It helps to know that even if a doctor doesn't believe me (I'm on doctor #11), I know there are others out there experiencing the same thing = Mom is NOT crazy.

But at least I can now drink a margarita and anything else. I can eat what I want (and I have the weight gain to prove it - oh not that bad, but I need to get my butt in gear, literally).

I still love LIME. I still hate LYME.
When is happy hour? Oh, I haven't even had my coffee yet. 7:15am time to wake the kids...

Plain Ol' Person

The following dialog happened as I was having some time with my 5 year old before bedtime.

Me: "So what do you want to be when you grow up?"

(I ask this every month to see how things change)

Son: "A baseball player and a fireman."

Me: "So you think you can do both? That might be hard in the summer, don't you think?"

Son: "I can do both of them."

Me: "Don't you want to do something different? Something other than baseball?"

Son: "No, I don't want to be a plain ol' person like Daddy."

(I was completely shocked and feeling appalled at what he just said)

Me: "What? What do you mean Daddy is a plain ol' person?!?!?!?!"

Son: "He just sits in his office all day. He's a plain ol' person."

Me: "Daddy has an important job, it has a name."

Son: "No, he's just a plain ol' person."

(at this point I am feeling really bad for my husband! But I thought for a moment....)

Me: "Do you mean Daddy is not a famous person, like a baseball player?"

Son: "Yeah, baseball players get famous. Daddy is just a plain ol' person, he isn't a famous baseball player, he just plays baseball with me. I don't want to be a plain ol' person."

Well, at least I can say he has set the bar high....? I think I am quite happy being a plain ol' person today.

Palin's Pseudo-Beehive-Faux-Bun Ponytail Thing & Copycats

As I awoke this morning, I mentally reviewed Sarah Palin's speech from the night before. Went into the bathroom, looked into the mirror and shuddered. No, I didn't shudder because I looked more crappier than normal. I had my standard looks-like-I-was-in-a-hurricane mess on top.

I thought:

How many women will copy Sarah Palin's pseudo-beehive-faux-bun ponytail thing she does to her hair? How the hell DOES she do that anyway? There must be a pound of bobby pins in there.

We see it happen all the time. Human behavior; we copycat. Someone will do something so unique and the next thing you know everyone is doing it. Hair is no exception.

REMEMBER Dorothy Hamill??? Anyone who was a little girl back in 1976 knows what I am talking about. Little girls ran to the beauty salon to get the famous WEDGE. Yes, women did, as well. There was Nadia and her pigtails. Farrah Faucet and her tricked out do which women invested insane amounts of money in hot rollers and hairspray to achieve the same look.

How many Moms will start copying the Palin hairdo? (See, are you shuddering at the thought?)

If she makes VP, then what will happen in the next 4 years? Perhaps the return of the bee hive? It could happen. Palin's hairdo (combined with the glasses) reminds me of a stern schoolmarm. As if she might come after naughty politicians with a ruler to rap on their knuckles. Oh that is another rant in draft form.

I've contemplated the possibilities even further: Women who will become "spunky Moms" or simply increase the usage of the word "spunky" in their vocabulary. Moms who will sign their kids up for hockey (even if the rink is 100 miles away) just because they now believe it will be more hip to be "hockey Mom" than be "soccer Mom". Hey, AOL put on their main page "HOCKEY MOM THROWS PUNCHES" to describe Palin's speech. Perhaps it will be hip to literally punch out other Moms now? Because that is what happens in hockey...

Don't forget, Sarah Palin said there was plenty of oil in Alaska. Republican Moms rejoice, for you will now be able to drive your gas guzzling SUVs on that 200 mile round trip you'll make to the rink so YOU can be a "hockey Mom" just like Palin. But I digress...

Don't think the whole copycat thing will happen? Then you, my friend, are not the parent/Mom of young children. There are some desperate Moms out there who will do anything to seek attention and be what they believe is hip. They are too competitive, always wanting to be better than the Mom next door. Yes, some of them never matured beyond High School.

It will be interesting to see what trends Sarah Palin brings to our culture if she and McCain win. If, key word. (Time to make a donation to the Democrat's campaign).

In the coming weeks and months, be on the lookout for Palin wannabe women. Grab your camera phone and send me the pics, then run for your lives! Stay strong and keep in touch with your stylist. If you find yourself pondering the possibility of the pseudo-beehive-faux-bun ponytail thing, seek help immediately.

I'd write more, but I need to go make some new anti-beehive flair for Facebook.

My Mom Killed My Cat - A Vengeful Mom

I know. I should be posting something perhaps more recent.

CEO's have to clean up smelly garbage from time to time. My Mom has created alot of garbage; a lifetime of it and some most recently. And the shit really stinks. I'll blog the recent garbage she left on my proverbial doorstep sometime, but below you will get a glimpse into the world of pyschotic June Cleaver.

Last night I sifted through the garbage and chatted with Julie/CrunchyMom, I recalled the time my Mom killed my cat. Did you blink twice and reread that line? Yes, I said my Mom killed my cat. No....it wasn't accidentally.

This was a retaliation kill.

Really. Seriously, I can't make this stuff up.

Join me for a moment in 1985. I had just started college.

Mom demanded I come home Labor Day weekend of my Freshman year. Honestly, it was more like an order: "you WILL come home ". One problem: NO CAR! None of my friends were going home for me to bum a ride, so end of story. I phoned and told her I couldn't make it home that weekend. She was angry. Oh yes, once again I was a huge disappointment and had disobeyed her orders. I reminded her I was coming home a different weekend because I did have a ride then.

A couple of weeks later I packed and headed home. I knew my cat was sick. I was happy to go home and see her one more time. When my Dad picked me up he informed me Mom had just taken my cat to the vet to have her put to sleep before I got home. "Why didn't she wait until I got home?" I asked.

He told me Mom did it to get back at me for not coming home Labor Day Weekend. And sure enough, she had done it.

She claimed the cat was just "too sick to wait for me to get home". When I said I wanted to go to the vet and see her, Mom's response was "I will not allow you to." Not allow me? She refused to tell me which vet she took the cat to!!! When I told her she was being mean, the ugliness within her emerged and she showed her true self. "This is what you get for not coming home Labor Day weekend when I told you to. Maybe next time you will do what I say."

Dad wasn't kidding. The crazy woman admitted to killing my cat just because I didn't make it home when she demanded. I would never wish anyone to have the kind of Mom I have.

So many crazy stories, so little time.