Ten year mark

My mom has been dead for ten years now. As I think happens for everyone, I’m usually - at the least – melancholy. I’m sometimes incredibly cantankerous or even pretty damn foul. I find myself often eating or drinking my feelings away on the anniversary of her death. I know – it’s not the healthiest way to deal with loss, but it’s what I do.

So, this year, I had grand plans to form a team to raise money and complete the 24-hour track walk for the American Cancer Society’s Relay For Life. Unfortunately, my team never came together partly because we’re all just so busy and partly due to poor leadership from me.

Instead of raising money and doing something healthy and fun and filled with family to commemorate her life, I did….. nothing. It’s hard for me to even put that statement in writing knowing that family members sometimes check in to see what I’m prattling on about, but – it’s true – I did nothing. I didn’t even realize that they day had come and gone. It was two days after the anniversary of her death before I even realized that I had missed it.

So, what’s that all about?

Yeah. I’m a busy person. My day begins at 5 with at least one little boy. It includes at least eight hours of hard work. (Yes, my latest assignment really does have me working quite a bit. Thinking is hard!) There is 1-2hours of commute time, bath, dinner, play time, and bedtime. THEN the housework begins! Dishes, laundry, sweeping/mopping, yard clean up, attention for the dogs – all of that takes place after 9pm. Oh, and sometimes, I try to cram in a 3-mile run or do some work from home! AND, I’m not alone in doing this! It takes two of us to keep up. (I’m grateful on a daily basis that I'm not a single parent. How do they do it?)

I’m sure that others are as busy as me. Hence the failure of our relay team to successfully get started. So, it’s understandable that a day can slip by without notice, right?

But, when did it become acceptable for me (or anyone) to be too busy to remember a loved one? It’s not just the anniversary of my mom’s death, either. I am guilty of forgetting things more often than I care to admit. And, not just things, but important dates and events which translates to people and their feelings.

So, I admittedly have some work to do. It’s not enough to just think of someone without some action to accompany it. To honor my mom’s memory, I have again signed up to run the Salt Lake marathon in April while raising money for the Huntsman Cancer Institute at the same time. I hope that the people I love will help me in this pursuit. In return, I promise to call, write, e-mail and blog like a mad-woman. I’ll try my hardest to remember all of your important days knowing that you always manage to remember mine.

He Ain't Heavy.....

He ain't heavy; he's my brother......
And if I position myself behind him and push on his bum, I can help him climb onto this chair. After that, the next logical step is the dining room table where he will probably manage to come to a standing position before mommy catches us.....

I've added C Jane

OK - I'm really into this blog.

Short version: Blogger chronicles her struggles to become pregnant. She and husband finally give birth to adorable baby (with daddy's forehead). A few months later, sister and brother-in-law are in horrific plane crash and are hospitalized with critical burns. (I start following blog here.) Blogger and hubby assume responsibility for sister's four kids while sister/brother-in-law endure many, many surgeries just to try and stay alive. Nothing like zero to five kids in no time flat!

How did I hear about C Jane? Well, her husband and I work for the same company. I've met him all of... once... and it's doubtful that he remembers me, but it's really like family there. If someone's going through something, everyone is concerned about it. Anyhooo.......

The only way that C Jane and I could be more different is if one of us were a person of color. I mean, she's a "Y" fan! Conservative, religious, straight. And, really - the Cougars?!?! However, I really like her writing, and I do wish the very best for her sister/brother-in-law.

And, I find the faith that she has absolutely fascinating.

I have faith in the body's ability to be amazing. I have faith in doctors/specialists and in the education that has brought them to the patient. I have faith in a person's capacity for determination and goal achievement.

But, the faith that she has (and her family, too, for that matter) is all wrapped up in and dependent upon the teachings of their church and their god. I know that this is actually quite common, but I just don't remember ever seeing it in action. My family/friends just don't do this.

It's hard for me to describe what I'm talking about, but a good example would be her brother-in-law who was recently un-sedated enough to communicate a bit. He told his visitor (another family member) that he can feel the prayers that are being offered. Now, if that's really the case and people can feel prayers, how cool is that? How great would that be? But, really. Can that happen? What if it doesn't work that way? What if it doesn't work at all? How can one really know?

But, what I find fascinating is that it doesn't matter whether or not it really works. What matters is that the person believes that it works. That person has faith that it will make a difference for them. Which, incidentally, helps in the release of happy hormones that boost immunity defenses and contribute to the body's ability to recover from amazing traumas. So, it's all the same in the end.

Anyway, I'm wishing the best for her family, and I'll continue to follow her blog.

I've added a new blog to watch - Very Important

Women Against Sarah Palin - check it out on the left of my page.

She's just "rash, incompetent, and [an] all together devastating choice for Vice President. Ms. Palin's political views are in every way a slap in the fact to the accomplishments that our mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers so fiercely fought for, and that we've so demonstrably benefited from." -Quin Latimer and Lyra Kilston

You ARE registered to vote, correct?

Like Nails on a Blackboard

Two words: Sarah Palin.

PS - since the whole world uses white boards now, what phrase will our boys use to describe nails on a blackboard?

Flexibility

So much is happening and there is so much to post about, but there just isn't enough time! I can say this: I love my employer and the flexibility that they are allowing me right now. My schedule has been adjusted to something resembling (4)9s and (1)4, but it's never exact. I have a laptop from which I'm allowed to (and sometimes expected to) work from home. On my short day, I work while the boys nap and almost every night, I work after they go to sleep and the house is cleaned up. Yes, this means that I usually log on after 9:30pm for just an hour or so, but it's helping me stay on top of my project.

I guess after almost 18 years at the same company, you wouldn't expect me to say anything other than "I love this place," but it's true. It's a great company that helps other businesses make a difference in the lives of their employees. We practice what we preach, we do nice things for our community, and we treat our employees well (I'm proof).

So, I have lots to blog, but the boys are asleep, and I can get in some good testing, so - I'm off to work, and proud to do so.
www.octanner.com

The Basket by the Door

We have a basket by the front door that is to be used for keys and cell phones. It was my brilliant idea (of course), so I’m always a bit fanatical that it’s being utilized correctly. What this means is that when Bub forgets to put a set of keys in The Basket by the Door, I must search for them - which I will do for a grand total of about 15 seconds because – after all – if they were in The Basket by the Door, I wouldn’t have to search at all. So, after an excruciating 15 seconds of searching, I resort to questioning (aka badgering) her as to the whereabouts of the lost keys. This usually happens at 5am or another unreasonable hour when I’m trying to rush out the door to work. The conversation goes a bit like this (with me speed talking and Bub groggily talking the whole time):

ME: Where are the keys? I need the keys. Where have you put the keys? Are you awake because I need the keys.

BUB: Huh?

ME: KEYS! I need the KEYS! You know if they were in The Basket by the Door I wouldn’t need to wake you up and bother you. I could just go to work. You really need to use The Basket by the Door. That’s what it’s there for. So, where are they? Are they in your bag? [Under breath] because they certainly aren’t in The Basket by the Door.

BUB: [Rummaging] I can still hear you. I’m asleep, not deaf.

ME: I’ve got to go. Where are the keys? [Sarcastically] Oh, thank you. I love you. Please use The Basket by the Door from now on. Bye.

So, when Bub called me this morning and asked me if I had the keys, I of course replied “No – look in The Basket by the Door” to which she came unglued because, of course, she had already looked there! So, as I looked unconcernedly through my own bag, I thought little of the problem because she surely has lost the keys, how could she be so irresponsible, and [GASP!!!!!] Holy cats! The keys are NOT in The Basket by the Door, they are in my friggin bag! And, I’ve carpooled! AND, it’s not like we live 10 minutes away! We live almost an hour from work! AND, she needs to be to go to the store and be to work in less than two hours!

Uh-oh. I’m in trouble, and so is Bub! Without these keys, she not only has no way of getting to work on time, but also no way of driving anywhere with the boys. Needless to say, she is HOT. No, wait. She is LIVID. No, wait. Her HEAD IS ABOUT TO EXPLODE. (Although, I must give her credit. She didn’t curse very much while on the phone with me. She’s making progress. I cannot vouch for the moments immediately following our conversation, though.)

I made a hasty phone call to Good Friend who just works down the street who agrees to let me borrow her car. So, I jump on the bus to Friend’s work and pick up her car. Then, I speed home as quickly as I dare. As soon as I turn onto our street, the gas light of Friend’s car comes on. Oh, great – something else to deal with. (No fault of Good Friend since she hadn’t planned to make a trip 45 miles away this morning!) This, in turn, threatens to finalize the previously mentioned cranial explosion but only AFTER she wrings my neck.

So, we fly to the gas station– me flustered and driving the boys and her in Friend’s car surely cursing the day I was born. My next brilliant idea is that I can go to the store for her after dropping the boys at grandma’s house. This way, she can get to work on time, and the supplies will arrive shortly thereafter. Apparently, I expected her to read my mind because when she didn’t immediately agree to what I was saying, I shouted at her in the gas station parking lot. (In my flimsy defense, she stomped off in anger, and I was already humiliated that I had breached The Basket by the Door etiquette. AND, she knows that I hate being wrong or making mistakes…. I know, not a good excuse to lose my temper.)

So, after gassing up, we both speed into the city and go our separate ways for a few minutes. I drop the boys at grandmas; she heads to work (and makes it in the nick of time). Then, we still need to swap cars, return Good Friend’s car to her, and I need to get back to work ASAP (via bus – ha ha) because I still had tons of documentation left to do before a big 2:30 meeting.

Lessons learned from this fiasco:
#1 - We’ve had this vehicle for over a year with just one set of keys. We mean to get them every time we go to the store, but we seem to forget every time. We will be getting them this weekend FOR SURE.
#2 - I will never nag Bubba again about The Basket by the Door.