It's been a LONG day . . .

and I've spent most of it in the kitchen - cleaning and cooking.  Tomorrow, I conquer the living room and the laundry  . . . maybe.  The dogs just came inside and they are covered with snow.  It's snowing?  Again?  Roy said that it's supposed to snow all night and all day tomorrow.  Since Jenn has plans for Wednesday, I get to hang out with Baby Brooklyn.  She's such a sweet, adorable, little distraction. Maybe I'll just spend the day cuddling with her and watching the snow fall tomorrow instead?  Hmmmm . . .
Right now, I think I'll go crawl into bed. 
Goodnight.

Christmas 2009 in Kansas City

These are some photos of our Christmas snowstorm that were sent into the local Fox 4 news blog from people around the metro area.  It started snowing Christmas eve and continued until late evening on the 26th.  We've been known to have our share of snow here in the plains, but it isn't very often that we get snowfall that is so perfectly timed for the holidays.

Oh, and on the Country Club Plaza, the snow plows pushed snow into piles that were TWO STORIES high.  (which of course, means that every loon in the city feels a need to climb it and and have their photo

taken!)

I'm so confused !!!

Holidays, especially the Christmas/New Year's holiday week, throw me completely off balance. No matter what day the 25th and the 1st fall on, I spend the entire 7 days in between trying to figure out what day it is, and what I'm supposed to be doing. With the kids out of school, everyone taking long weekends, and this year, cancellations and rescheduling of events because of the weather . . . everything seems to be in a state of chaos and confusion for me. I wish I could just relax a bit and go with the flow like everyone else does. If I ask the kids what day it is they just look at me blankly, shrug, and say,
"I dunno, I'm on vacation. Who cares?"
The dogs don't care about cancellations and changed plans, all they know is that there is tons of cold, fluffy, white stuff everywhere to play in. The fact that everyone is at home to let them outside and back inside, probably qualifies as a vacation for them. And Roy? Well, he's no help at all.

So, when do I get a vacation? It would be so nice to spend a week (or two) not caring about what day it is, where I have to be, or what I have to do.

The nightmare AFTER Christmas.

OH. MY. GOD.   My house is a Christmas Nightmare! Since my kiddos are older, teens now, (old enough to not believe in Santa, but still young enough to be excited over new loot) we've started a new tradition of opening gifts on Christmas Eve.  Thus eliminating the need for Roy and I to be dragged out of bed at 5AM on Christmas morning to participate (if you can even call it that) in the usual Christmas morning chaos of gift opening.  Instead, we can sleep in.  Of course changes in long held family tradition are always a subject for careful consideration.  So, after great and serious debate (read: much whinging and manipuation by children, followed by the inevitable caving in to their every whim by my husband) the long standing custom was changed a couple of years back.
 
At first, even I had to admit that I enjoyed the luxury of sleeping in on Christmas morn, but I have since discovered a few minor flaws in that plan - most of which are the result of my control freak,  OCD about keeping my house sane and orderly. I'm honest enough to admit that theses are MY issues; In fact, since the other five and a half people living in my home have zero regard for the concept of order and organization, I really have no choice other than to own up to it.  For years now, I've been working on "letting go" of my anal retentive control issues regarding "my house."  And truthfully, I've come a long way towards relaxing and accepting that not everyone has the same standards about "their space" that I do - In other words, I've learned to adapt. 

However, there are times (like this morning) when living in my house seems like a hostile environment for my fragile sanity.  I know that it's not intentional, and it really can't be avoided with so many people (and dogs) living in such a small space.  Add to all that,  the excitement and chaos of a holiday that includes numerous new toys, PLUS an icy cold snow storm that keeps everyone trapped inside the house . . . I was doomed before I crawled out of bed. There was a time, when a day like today  would have had me believing that my family had maliciously plotted to destroy my sanity and insult my standards. Still, in spite of all the strikes against me, I think I did pretty well.  No emotional breakdowns, no tears, or screaming fits, and as the day draws to a close, everyone is sleeping peacefully in their beds - not a single death or serious injury  among them - we all survived!  Sometimes, I amaze myself.

Oh yeah, I'm pretty much as crazy as everyone else in this asylum.  My weirdness may run the other end of the spectrum, but I'm fairly certain that most "normal" people don't struggle with physical with draws from the vacuum.   Longing to hear that satisfing woosh and clatter that comes with sucking the grit off a floor.  Pacing the house, trying with all my might to resist the urge to gather the tiny scraps if scotch tape and tattered remains of Christmas wrap confetti from under the couch and coffe table. I doubt mentally stable people go into hysterics, when the Lysol bottle is empty; gathering their pennies and loose change just to buy a refil bottle from the corner store, like a chain smoker jonesing for a smoke.  It's sad really.

So, I waited.  I found distractions for myself.  Finally, after everyone had been fed and settled into bed for the night, I crept to the top of the stairs, grabbbed the vacuum and a bottle of windex from the closet.  I told myself, 'just a quick once over of the living room to get me through.'  45 minutes later, I felt I could relax enough to settle down and read one of my new books that I got for Christmas.  Tomorrow, Nick and Jenn are taking Heather to work with them, Roy may go to work as well, and Jake will find something to do to fill his time.  It'll just be Baby Brooklyn and me for most of the day.  The two of us can putter around setting our world back into place.  (Baby Brooklyn never tells Nana's secrets.)  By the time Monday rolls around my world will be spinning smoothly - I hope - even though the kids are home until January 7th.

Merry Christmas !

Okay.  I'm back on line and it's the night before Christmas - Christmas Eve!  And I'm feeling especially happy this year because we have finally been blessed with a WHITE CHRISTMAS !!!  We started out with sleet and rain this morning, then,  about 6 PM this evening it turned into snow, now it's more like a full blown bizzard, and I couldn't be happier - It's beautiful !!!  ( even my dogs are filled with the holiday spirit !)

I'll be honest, for a long time now, I've really struggled with the whole Christmas thing.  I LOVE the "idea" of Christmas; the traditions, the lights, the decorations, the celebration, all of that.  I've always said that it's the commercialism and the media perversion of it all that I dislike.  But you know,  I was thinking about it last night, and I think what bugs me the most is that it all happens too quickly for me.  Especially coming at the very end of the year!  It just seems like go, go, go, all year long, every month filled with birthdays, holidays, and a million special occassions;  then, at the very end of the year, almost as an after thought, they decide to throw in the biggest celebration of all . . . Christmas!  It would be SO much nicer if there was more time to prepare, plan for, and actually ENJOY it all.  After a whole year's worth of chaos and rushing around, wouldn't it be nice to take it all in, to just slow down and think about what it all means?  It just seems like it's one more thing that has to be rushed through.  But then, maybe it's just the inevitable result of the world we.ve created and the kind of lives we live ?  I've read . . . that way back, who knows when, that life used to be slower.  Holidays and celebrations had a real purpose and meaning for people.  They were important - not just another way of  ticking off the passing months in a year.  *sigh*  Maybe I was just born in the wrong time?

All I know is - I'm exhausted.  I'm going to toddle off to bed now and spend tomorrow with my family and watching the snow fall. 

Have a safe and Merry Christmas everyone !!!

Excused Absence

Once again, I've been neglecting my blog.   *SIGH*   What can I say?  I've been distracted by all the usual insanity here at the asylum . . . again.  
Not only have I been busy tearing down and storing our yard haunt, but my youngest, my baby,  turned thirteen last week.  UGH, a teenager!  If things were crazy before, they are about to become completely out of control now.   I know this from experience.  Of course, this is the first time that I will be dealing with TWO teens at the same time.  In the past, due to the number of years between my children, I've always been fortunate enough to get one through the teen years before the next one reached the magic (or is it really a cursed number?) age of 13.  Silly me, my last two kids are only two years apart in age.  Of course, Jake and Heather are so close, they do everything together.  For the most part, that has been a blessing; I'll have to wait and see if I still feel the same way in the coming years.

Anyway, for Heather's thirteenth birthday she wanted to have a slumber party with 7 of her closest girlfriends.  Normally, that wouldn't be a huge problem;  except for the past several months, our little asylum has been running at full occupancy with Nick, Jenn, and the baby living with us.  Of course, I knew it would be total chaos ( as well as a probable violation of several city codes for maxium occupancy of a four bedroom duplex)  with that many teenage girls in the house.  But after all, it's just for one night . . .   The biggest issue was, where to bed down that many people.  Not that I expected them to do much sleeping, at least not until the wee hours of the morning.  It was finally decided that the only possible availible space was -  the garage.  The problem with that?  Heather's birthday is only 11 days after Halloween.  Not only was the garage still set up as a mad doctor's laboratory from Halloween, but on November 1st, everything from the front yard cemetery gets shoved into the garage until I can get it all packed away. (which normally happens over a span of months) So yeah, I've been extremely busy these past few days, tranforming our garage from a laboratory/storage space, to a party room for teens - all in less than a weeks time.
And because my husband has no idea what it takes to preform the sort of magic that I do on a daily basis, he scheduled Pete's neutering for the morning after the Slumber party !  Of course, we had Pheonix neutered the week before Halloween, and that made me a nervous wreck. Not only was I all strung out over the emotional guilt of abandoning my baby overnight at a strange place,  but I have to admit that dealing with a post-surgery animal was a bit more stressful than I had anticipated.  Not only are they unable to tell you if they're in pain, or if something isn't right, but they could care less about things like . . . surgical incision care, and infection.  They're just dogs, they aren't equiped with survival instincts that cover human situations like surgery.  I was actually amazed at how co-operative Pheonix turned out to be - the perfect patient.  In fact, as the days have passed, I am only sorry that we didn't have him neutered earlier.  I'm starting to think that most of his anxiety and bad behavior was testosterone induced.  He's just a happier, more relaxed, and contented dog.  He has actually become more playful and puppy like.

However, in comparison, Pete . . .   To put it as tactfully as possible, Pete is well, uh . . . psychotic as hell.  He has more issues than LIFE magazine.  Not only is he stubborn and willful, but he has separation anxiety, he's a fence climber with a wandering spirit, he's absolutely frantic when it comes to his fear of thunderstorms, and when it comes to licking and chewing . . . OCD doesn't even BEGIN to describe it !  He has done everything in his power to make his recovery time difficult for everyone; and as a result, it's taking longer for him to heal.  He refuses to leave his incision alone and he worries over it day and night.  We've had to put one of those goofy Elizabethian collars on him, keep him separated from the other dogs, and still, we have to watch him constantly. ALL he does is whinge and cry like a baby.  Once again, I've had to redecorate the garage, this time into a makeshift dog kennel.  Actually, it's more like a canine presidential suite!  And does he appreciate all that I've done for him?  Hell NO!  When I named our home haunt Howling Hollow Asylum, I had no idea that it would become so prophetic.  Pete's constant crying and howling is making everyone insane!!!  Every night when I go to bed, I pray that the hormones will work themselves out of his body quickly, and that the lack of testosterone will have the same effect on Pete as it's had on pheonix.  This really is our last hope.  If neutering him doesn't curb his dominance and his desire to fight with Pheonix, I have to find him another home.  It's going to break my heart, but I can't have that kind of violence and tension in my home.

In other news . . . I've decided to start looking for a job.  Roy has been laid off from his job (which really didn't supply him with enough hours or pay anyway)  and with the kids getting older, and the Holidays and the economy  being such a financial stress - well, I think it's just time for me to go back to work.  I've sent out a few resumes with my optical experience and I seem to be getting pretty good responses.  I know that over the past 20 years that I've been at home there have been a lot of changes (new equipment and products, computers, and worst bof all, insurance)  but the basics never really change much.  Besides, all the changes are really kind of unique specific to each office, so I would probably have to learn it anyway.  But I think I would much rather return to optics, than find work in my other area of training - teaching preschool. Not only is the pay and benefits better, but I think I've had enough of dealing with children. (or grown ups that BEHAVE like children)  Still, I'm really nervous and anxious about the whole thing - it just seems weird to imagine not being at home all the time, and I know that there will have to be new rules, and a lot of  restructuring at home  if I'm not here all day. ( my family doesn't exactly embrace change very well)   I know that in the long run, it will be a good thing, I just don't look forward to the short term stress.  So wish me luck, and keep my family in your prayers, please.
I'm still working on getting the Halloween photos uploaded to my other blog.  My stupid computer has been SO slow lately, I can only do a few each evening.  Hopefully, I'll have it done by the end of this weekend - I'll let you know.

Well, it's late and I need to sleep.  I'll try not to be so long between posts next time.
Good night  all.

*p.s. dog photo credits: my very talented daughter, Heather !

Halloween 2009

Well, it's November 3rd, and I'm still trying to come up with words that would aptly describe this year's Halloween at Howling Hollow Insane Asylum. Mostly because I'm still trying to get over the trauma and shock of it all. The words that keep coming to mind are: spooky and . . . chaotic? I'm sure it was a year that we'll always remember, but maybe not for the best reasons.

The weather was surprisingly good, although we didn't have as pre-dusk trick or treaters this year, so things got off to a slow start. In fact, things didn't really get rolling until about 6:30PM. That's about when all hell broke lose.

At 6:45 the sound of sirens filled the neighborhood and we were shocked to find that they were headed straight towards our little asylum. We all gathered in the drive as an Olathe med-act truck pulled up in front of the duplex next door. We have a passing acquaintance with the folks living there. I have spoken with Joyce, the wife, occasionally as I walked my dogs; and last summer, my oldest son, Nick, spent a few evenings at their house with a gentleman who lived with them for a few months. However since he moved out, things have been fairly quiet with Joyce caring for Jimmy, her bedridden husband. I knew that Joyce had a history of strokes and I was afraid that she might be having another. However, when the paramedic jumped out of the van, Joyce came frantically rushing into the front yard screaming at him to "Hurry!" Several fire trucks rolled onto the scene, followed by police cars. Nick and my husband went to see if they could be any help. Joyce was hysterical and crying incoherently about her husband needing help right away. As firemen rushed in and back out yelling for "Water! Now!", smoke started drifting out the door. Eventually, she was able to explain that her husband, who is dependant upon some sort of respiratory system, had been sitting on the couch smoking a cigarette when something went terribly wrong. She rushed down stairs to find him engulfed in flames! She tried, but was unable to do anything to help him. As everyone tried to comfort her, the flames were extinguished and her husband was brought out on a stretcher and rushed to the local burn unit with over 90% of his body burnt. A second med-act took Joyce to the same hospital and she was treated for smoke inhalation. For the next 45 minutes our street was blocked off with emergency vehicles and reporters. My son, who just happened to be dressed up as a Catholic Cardinal, was interviewed by a television crew who asked to shoot additional footage of our home haunt.

It was all very sad and almost surreal. By 8PM, as suddenly as they had arrived, all the fire trucks, ambulances, police, and reporters just seemed to have vanished, and our street was left looking as if a tragedy had never occurred. No one really knew what to say, or think. No one had time to even assess what we had just witnessed.
Within minutes, groups of trick or treaters, who had no idea that anything unusual had happened, began arriving again. By 10:30, when our visitors trickled down to nothing, we had almost 50 people through our haunt. The largest group of a dozen kids was brought by a woman who had seen my blog on line and emailed for directions.
Everyone was too exhausted to tear anything down Saturday night, so we just ate some cold pizza and went to bed.

We woke Sunday morning to discover that Jimmy had died from his burns shortly after Midnight. Before Noon, another reporter, from a different station was knocking at my door, trying to "follow up on the story." They were shooting film of the burnt up couch that was (and still is) sitting at the curb. At first, she was saying how tragic the situation was, and wanted to know if I knew Joyce and Jimmy very well. I told her "not really" then, she started saying things like, she "had heard that this wasn't the first time that something like this had happened." When she asked me if I'd be willing to be interviewed, I said, "No." My opinion of the media has never been very good, and this incident hasn't changed it. So instead of tearing down the haunt, like I usually do, I spent most of the day indoors. Maybe I was being paranoid, but it seemed to me that we had an unusual amount of slow moving traffic on our street that day and I just didn't really want to talk to anyone.

Sunday night, I was able to get a few more photos of the yard by moon light without distractions. I spent most of today packing up the props in the garage, and I'll probably get the yard stuff packed away tomorrow. And hopefully, I'll have time this weekend to sit down and sort through photos and get them posted on my blog.

Right now, I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed.
Good night all.