Friday, May 13, 2011

The perfect summer song

I never make any secret of how smitten I am with my children. Simply put, they all kick ass in their own ways. Something I so adore about Loren is his musical tastes. Our preferences are often similar and he has the time and energy to always be on the hunt for new tunes for his edits. Since he has mostly been at his dad's house for the past few months I have really missed the near weekly mix he used to make for me.

Earlier this week Lo was at The Manor trying to finish up some last minute assignments so he can graduate and get the pesky task of high school off his plate. While editing he introduced me to a young man named Mac Miller. I love the happy beat and simple approach to his songs. The below clip is something I would have embraced at Loren's age, it's chill, not too deep and not serious. Any time you have lyrics that talk about bagels and an Eggo things are good. Love it.

Disclosure: If I ever had days when I was cool, they are far from over. I have no idea if Mr. Miller has been around for awhile or if he's fresh and hip, it doesn't matter to me because I'm so out of it it's all new to me. And, yes, I know he talks of naughty activities. No condoning from me. Not my kid, not my issue.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

I'm the luckiest mom. Ever. Really.

On Sunday my mom, the kids and I all participated a charity fun run to celebrate the glory and glamour of being a mommy. It's a lovely event where you get a rose and apple pie at the finish line. I also love the fact that it's totally green and generates very little trash but lots of compost.

This year they had several starts, the youngest group going first, Cassidy's group just behind them. This meant Devon, at age 6, was among the very first ones out of the gate. My mom and I were fairly sure he would get lost somewhere along the one mile course so we ran/walked behind him while Cass took off and made the loop in a smidge under 8 minutes. Another mom felt she would also lose her son so she ran much more closely behind Devon and his buddy V.

Later I was about to run in what I thought was my group when my mother pointed out that, no, I was not included due to my age. I had seen the number 40 and assumed it meant me, with my aging eyes I hadn't read that it said under 40. I had to run in the next heat with the 40+ runners, the old farts. Needless to say most of them kicked my sorry ass when I came in at over 12.5 minutes. Who knew some of them could whip out a 5.75 minute mile?  Then my mom and I walked the last heat, the one where they don't even time you and all the children joined us for the very last leg to walk across the finish line together. I was to touched I got tears in my eyes.

When Loren asked me what I wanted for Mother's Day I told him I wanted an edit of his little brother. In truth I would love an edit of his sister as well, but Cass and Lo are at that age when just the site of the other sibling causes them to curl their lips. This morning the below clip was in my email. It is classic Loren and Devon. As always I am awed by the vision of my oldest child, his talent for color, timing and editing is truly an art. Lo perfectly captures Devon's whimsy for life in the clip. All in all it was one of the best Mother's Days I've ever had. My children are amazing, my mother is kick ass and I hope the years to come hold as much happiness for us all as this day did. Thank you to Mia, Loren, Cass and Devon. And thank you to Matt for giving me these beautiful beings, I hope next year we can all run this day together.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

A date with Jesus or My Friend the Nun

Next Tuesday Cassidy and the rest of her 8th grade class will get Confirmed. It's an occasion to which I have given very little thought until recently, as in the last two days. This is partly because Cass seems cool with the whole thing and has managed any classes/information about it on her own. But the other part is that I'm just so overwhelmed right now that if something in my life isn't actively broken or screaming it doesn't hit my radar of what needs to be addressed. The only reason it's hit me that in five days my daughter will promising herself to the Catholic Church is because we have been out and about shopping for a dress, slip, shoes, etc. Yes, I am still crossing my fingers for that Mother of the Year award, with my stellar parenting skills I'm fairly certain I'll get it.

I was never Confirmed. At the age of 10 my Catechism teachers informed my mother I hadn't been to class in several weeks. My mom confronted me, at which point I told her I would never again be attending a class, I didn't believe in the whole crazy scheme and it wasn't working for me. My brother was 14 at the time and creating far more havoc than my wee religious rebellion. Picking her battles, my mom decided to let me take gymnastics instead.

I sort of assumed Cass was in the Confirmation thing for a new dress and some gifts. This week she has surprised me with the depth of her consideration regarding this step. While shopping the other day she talked about "Her Friend the Nun" who had been visiting with the class in preparation for the big day. I expected an eye roll followed by a tirade about how lame the nun was. No. Red Sister adored the God Sister! In fact, Cass went on to explain, in great detail, this nun's liberal views of Catholicism and how it applied to modern day life. I was floored by Cass' exuberance and perhaps a bit scandalized by her devotion to it. We had an Adam/Eve discussion about free will vs logic. I offered up that even if there was a pair of scantily clothed folks named such maybe they had simply evolved enough from the fight/flight status to reach emotions, but  fucked it up purely because it was all so new. To this I did get an eye roll. It went on, her giving testimony and me shooting it down with my lack of faith.

When I sent Cass to Catholic school it had nothing to do with religion on my part, much to my mother's sadness. It was a good fit for Cass and that was that. Now I find something has taken root in her, something she appears to cherish. It has prompted me to spew my liberal views tenfold, testing where her other beliefs stand. So far my half-assed mothering is successful, I don't have a young republican on my hands...yet. For that I think the Mother of the Year statue should defintiely be mine: I'll be turning out a faith holding liberal with a healthy side of aggression both at work and at play. Oh look, it's all about me once again.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

Under Pressure

This spring has been brutal in terms of many things. To begin, the weather here has sucked in a huge way. True, the Colorado Rockies don't get tornados or tsunamis or earthquakes so as far natural disasters go I guess I shouldn't bitch too loud. But neither are our springs what one would call delicate; we don't bloom from one season to another. Nay, the bulk of the snow melts and then Mother Nature holds on to cold, gray and more cold for as long as she bitchily sees fit.

Where I'm going with this is: all this crazy weather means huge barametric pressure shifts, which if you're a migranie sufferer means pain. Big pain. Ongoing pain. Work-stopping pain. The kind of pain that makes one want to scream and rant at everybody that there's a bomb exploding in my head, goddammit and thank you very much.

Migraines a funny, not in a ha-ha way but in an odd way. They are, literally, all in your head. They don't have the weight of a broken limb or the glamor of a stroke. If you get them, you understand. If you don't, you find the person who does get them to be an enormous pain in the ass. There are times when I can go for a couple of months without one. Then there are times like now when my life nearly comes to a standstill because my head hurts so much, my arms are going numb and I can't see for all the black fuzzies in my eyes.

I know I can't blame it all on the weather, there is stress galore in my life right now. But to pick on The McStrokey would not be sporting, plus I don't have a bone to pick with him right now anyway. Shooting at his dad, whose body fills with more cancer everyday, is not lady-like -though sometimes I do it just for shits and giggles anyway. Then there are all those kids of mine with their daily demands of dinner and clean clothes. Whatever. All I know is that I hope the sun comes out soon, stays out and I can again move my head without wanting to scoop out the innards and toss them in the compost bin.

Monday, May 2, 2011


I have never met the Granju family but there is something about Henry's story that has gripped me like few other things have. Perhaps it is because Loren is a similar age to Henry. Maybe it's because I can indentify with a mom having a baby at a yong age and then the experiences of being so young with a child. Or possibly because Henry was an artist much as Loren is. Whatever the case may be, since I first read about Henry's death I find myself thinking about him on a daily basis. I think about his siblings and the void they must feel. I think about Katie's pain and the unthinkable hurt she faces every day. I think about Henry and how he must have been so worn out from addiction and wanting to get clean.

Addiction is such a cruel foe. We know it well in our family. It tears everybody apart.

Below is a clip Henry's family has put together. The song and pictures are absoultely beautiful. My love and hope goes out to Henry's family that the people who hurt Henry will be brought to justice.