Kindergarten Welcome

was last night.

And I honestly do not remember my children being that tiny when they entered school.

Looking at all those eager parents with their Big Kids, is so refreshing. As volunteer coordinator, I wanted to pounce on them all with my sign-up sheets in hand. But I don't, I wait .......and I lure them in slowly.


I remember when I sent Dagny to Kindergarten. It wasn't really a big deal. It was half day Kindergarten and she had already been in half day preschool, so there wasn't a "real" transition.

But first grade was Bru-Tal.

Everyone assured me that this Mrs. B person was the best thing to hit elementary school since Uncrustables, but I wasn't buying it. The fact that someone else would get to spend all, day everyday with my baby was enough to make my stomach turn. And then there were all of the unthinkables which I was very sure would happen while my daughter was away. Mostly an earthquake. An earthquake would hit and the overpass would fall and How Would I Ever Get To Her?

That and a freak snowstorm/blizzard in which I could not get to her. Ever.

Welcome to the rational thoughts of motherhood.

When I dropped her off, I remember walking really, really slowly and a bit aimlessly out of the school. It was as if I had dropped off a kidney or a lung and I wasn't really sure leaving it was such a good idea because Hello? I need them. I walked out onto the playground and there was a staff member there, and she had, I think, a British or Scottish accent. And she was pregnant. Anyone remember her? Anyhoozen, she approached me and patted my arm and said something like " First one out the nest, hon? It'll be ok, I promise" and it was so sweet and so comforting but it took away very little of my pain. I called my BFF as soon as I got in the car and I sobbed to her the whole way home.

How could I just let go of my baby? I was feeding her to the sharks.

We went to OMSI that day with Jack. A celebration of just mommy and daddy time! all for Jack! And it was awful.

I spent the entire day frantically searching for Dagny and then going "Oh yeah" or finding the most incredible dinosaur thing!! EVER ! Quick ! Quick ! Get Dags, she has to see......"Oh yeah"

That was probably one of the longest days of my life.

And I still miss them when they are at school. I think it is why I volunteer so much.

For the most part, I really really like my kids. I enjoy being with them. They are extremely clever and funny as well as royal pains in the ass. There is no one I'd rather spend time with than the kids and my husband. All of us. Together we make a really amazing foursome. And when one of us is missing, it just isn't the same.


So I watch these families all show up, full of hope and looking forward to something new, a new chapter of childhood. It is such a huge event in people's lives. Those parents are handing over their most prized possesions. I hope I am able to catch just one of those mom's on the first day and let her know that her pre-shious lovey will be OK.

Mostly because now I know, the kids are in fact, taught an earthquake plan :)

PS. New pictures on Flickr

Random ramblings

07-08 school year.

Isn't that crazy?

I am looking at middle schools for my daughter.

About 10 minutes ago I was dropping her off into the ever-safe-hands of Mrs. B who was teaching her Mele Kalikimaka and how to group numbers or something along those lines that made no sense to me......and now I am middle school shopping. And bras...we are shopping for bras. If you know of a good place that sells 34 negative a, please let me know.

I also know two really, really, really, and did I mention Really? good Kindergarten teachers who have little preshious girls who better savor and lick up every bit of that gooey goodness and pink frilly dress-ness , because OMG.... where the hell did that go? (One of them is also the proud owner of a boy which is pretty much like raising a small alien and all I can say about that is Invest in A Very Good Plunger because the amount of things boys flush down toilets is very, very frightening.)

My goodness.





This is my second year as Volunteer Coordinator at school and my 5th year of being the "1st Day Packet Guru". I will say that 5 years has given me a lot of experience and I do believe, today ran quite smoothly. I need to ensure Kindergarten Night and New Family Welcome Night are both well attended and represented, all from the beautiful Oregon Coast which is where the McSilly's hibernate the last week of August. We leave tomorrow and I am not sure who is more relieved and excited to go....me or the children.







This summer was "off" for lack of a better word. I am sad to see my babies leave me all day/every day, but a little routine and distraction is going to be a much needed thing around here. Grandpa has been approved for a new medication that was initally going to cost him around $3200 a month, but we received a call from the drug company this week and they have "approved" him to take the drug and he will be coughing up ( ha ha.....lung cancer joke) $10 a month and needless to say we are all quite relieved.





So that's about it from around these parts. We are off to the beach with grandma and grandpa and my BFF and her family where we will do a lot of the following.....


a. eating
b. drinking martinis
c. drinking mojitos
d. drinking wine
e. eating
f. playing cards
g. swimming
h. gambling
i. sleeping
j. weenie roasting
k. playing Blokus
l. drinking more wine


and my husband's favorite part of the weekend HAVING SEX WITH HIS WIFE ! NO FRICKIN COMPUTER !!!


See you all in September :)

I used to be a Happy Poster.....'member?

So my grandpa is dying.

And I am reaaaaaaaally pissed.

But I have been on this stoopid freaking roller coaster of Pissed then Sad......then Pissed,.....then Sad.......the Irate.....then Depressed, then Happy I still have him, than Madder Than Hell that I am going to lose him. And then it starts all over.


So, I don't write, because I can't. Everyone reads this and I don't want them to know how selfish I am for being so mad about losing my grandpa. He is dying and it is all I can do to not crawl up into his lap and have him pet my hair and console me and tell me I will be OK without him. Because I can guarantee you that will happen sometime with in the mext 6 months.

I tried to get all of us together. My fabulous-O cousin was able to make a fleeting appearance here in the land of Ports, so I did my best to orchestrate a family get together within the 2 hours he was here so we could see him, gramps, and all the rest of us together, at one time. We had a wonderful evening, the food was great, the wine exceptional. I wish I had used my own camera to take photos of my uncle betting his sister- in -law a dollar per rum shot.

Man I love my family....

Jack and Dagz thought they'd start the day with a "card-selling stand"



Which, unbelievably, made a ton of money.


This is the one and only male grandchild.......The one we girls tortured to death, which really, has made him into a bad ass dude that really respects chicks. What I find scary about this photo is that

a. my daughter is almost as tall as her grandmother

and

b. my cousin just got back ( literally, like an hour ago) from some kind of "training thing-y" that involved really big guns and hum-vee something or others.....which we, the family, refer to as "Summer Camp" ....which really pisses him off. But it makes us feel a LOT better.




This picture makes me want to absolutely cry....




The neighborhood water fight. These two were the last two standing




The family...my Uncle B showing someone ( who is probably not impressed) his muscles....




What the smart kids do half way through the water fight.....hit the hot tub




I don't know that the hell this is.....something my kids watch on TV..





Yet another hot tall blonde.....my cousin, She even wore HEELS trying to be taller than me.....dammit



I will try to be a better, happier poster. I promise.

Silly

4:30 AM

Can't sleep.

Just like every other night.

Thanks cancer.

Dear Cancer,

Hey Cancer....it's me, Silly.

My bad ass grandpa came by your office yesterday where some MD told him the two rounds of chemo have done shit, and the lung cancer has grown and spread.

And I just wanted to take this moment to tell you "fuck you, you asshole named cancer "





3 months ago my children had a crazy globe trotting grandpa.


And then your sorry ass showed up and decided to fuck everthing up.







I hate you....



I type this and I cry.... I am so fucking sick of crying over you, Cancer, you loser Mo-Fo.


You are the biggest asshole I have ever met.


You are not worthy of my grandapa's body.

The end is near

Soccer starts tonight.

We bought our size 4 ball last night. Which is a big step up from the size 3 we've been using the past couple of years. My kids instinctively know that once the fall sports begin, summer is drawing to a close.

Jack is excited for tonight. 3rd grade means all-boy teams, goalies, and the Big Kid uniform. This will be Jack's 4th year with most of the same boys and of course our favorite coach, Coach Lane, who makes the game what it is.

The return of soccer means the return of bi-weekly practices which means we need to use our calendar for more than scheduling playdates and summer camps. And that calendar is going to get really full really quick.

School supplies have been bought, labeled and packed away in backpacks.

Won't be long now :)

Again, so much time has passed since I last wrote.

Our summer has been a hectic one.

About 2 or 3 months ago, we received some less than good news from my grandpa's doctor. Spots on his lungs were discovered to be stage 4 lung cancer. At first I I didn't write about it because I couldn't stop crying long enough to do so. It also felt like writing about it would make it real.

Then my aunt and uncle asked me not to write about it, as my globe trotting cousin was off in Saipan or Taipan or something else-Pan and they certainly didnt want her finding out about it on the internet.

Then his chemo began and it has simply kicked his 87 year old ass. I live less than amile from him, so I have been going over 3 to 4 times a week to help him, clean for him, or just sit and talk to him.

My grandfather is the man that I gauge all other men by. My parents divorced wen I was young, and since my mom was a single working parent, my grandparents stepped in and did all they could. I don't remember my mom waiting for me in the carpool line. I remember my grandmother. And she was ALWAYS first. I wonder how early she got there everyday to insure her spot. I spent so many nights with my grandparents. I'd start out in the extra bedroom, but if I got scared, I knew I could crawl into bed between them. My grandpa always smelled so good.

My grandpa still hunts every October, although I can't remember the last time he brought anything home. I do remember those God-awful deer heads in the back yard where all 6 or 7 years of me would lay into him about what a murderer he was. And he would just smile and hand me a piece of sausage on a cracker. And I would exclaim it was The Most Delicious Sausage Ever! and he would tell me to go thank that head in the back yard.

He taught me how to play Solitaire.

He taught me how to ride a bike ( and he made made me leave it at his house)

He took me and my grandma to The Pizza Merchant on 99 for dinner.

He took me to the beach on vacation.

I remember one infamous evening, my mother invited her parents over to our small cramped apartment for dinner. Our dining room table was a card table, but with a pretty table cloth over it no one was any wiser. My mom spent the whole day cooking and cleaning and wanting to impress her Martha Stewart mother and daddy. We all sat down to eat at the card table and after a bite or two, no one was hungry. It was one of the most disgusting, horrible meals ever created. Any my grandpa sat there and ate every bite of that meal declaring it "good" and "hey, this is not too bad".

And it made me love him a million more times than I already did.

My mom made me a dresser by hand. It was the 70's and that's what they did back then. That and Daisy KIngdom sun dresses.....the Age of the Aquarius. It was fine for a while, but eventually I needed a "real" one dresser and my grandparents decided to buy me one for Christmas. A real piece of new furniture. Amazing, for both my mother and I. They wheeled it out on Christmas Eve and then, to my surprise, every dresser drawer was full of presents. One of my best X-mas memories ever

My grandparents did everything my parents couldn't and then some. I was the only grandchild for 10 years, so I received all their attention and love. I have a bond with them like no one else. Despite being a latch key kid with shared custody and never really knowing where my next Easter would be spent, I had more love showered on me than most children from intact families.


My grandfather is not your typical 87 year old. He drives down to Palm Springs once a year with his 93 year old girlfriend. They fly to Hawaii once a year, last year he toured Italy, this year it was a cruise to Alaska. He still works the Easter Pancake breakfast at the Masonic Lodge every year. He works out a couple of times a week at the Senior Center. We attend an annual Christmas Party at the Elks club every year with a 100 of our friends. Imagine my surprise when I realized my grandfather was there as well, partying up on the other dance floor with all of his friends.

You get my drift, right?

So this whole cancer diagnosis really threw us all a curve ball.

But his doctor assured us, he isn't "your average 87 year old so we are expecting him to respond to treatment better than you average 87 year old". He started chemo last month and about a week later, it floored the man I haven't seen sick or weak in almost 40 years.

Asking him to stand or walk can be like asking him to rock climb, or perhaps wrestle. And he is really pissed.

I live a hop, skip, and jump away, I have been taking care of his household as well as mine. The past two weeks I call 1st thing in the AM to find out when his nurse will be there and I build my day around that. My kids usually have some kind of camp, so I get up, shower, drive them to where they need to be, go home and clean bathrooms and get his laundry. Then I drive over and clean his bathroom, change his sheets, do his dishes, do whatever else needs to be done, and we wait for Marie. We play Solitaire, watch the news, I do the crossword and ask him for answers. After that I go home and try to clean the rest of my house, but it's not long before I have to go pick up someone from camp, or run to the store, or, or, or, or.

Spending all this time with my grandfather has been a blessing in disguise. He told Jack all about flying in WW2 and gave him a beautiful poster of the plane he used to fly. He was a "gunner" and he showed Jack where exactly he sat on the plane and fired. I have over heard Jack telling two separate friends "Oh yeah, well my great-grandpa flew in World War 2" . The other day we talked about his parents, and how they met in Seattle, and how his dad was actually Chek not German and how they only spoke German at home and on how he wished he'd listened closer and learned better German . I wish I could bring a tape recorder with me. But I don't as that would imply he might not be around to tell me these stories again. And I don't want to imply that for a second.

He is constantly battling pneumonia. His hair is falling out. I have grown accustomed to watching the phlegm he spits up drip into his spit bag. He is grumpy. His days aren't "good" or "bad". They are both and it can change hour to hour. I call him every day and ask him what he ate and how his BM's are. Everytime I fold his underwear and undershirts, I cry. I cry because I am mothering my grandpa.





Hang in there gramps