Hormones and Meltdowns

Is it that my hormones are out of whack or am I losing it??? In the past few weeks I have gone from teary eyed to downright sobbing. I mean the ugly cry. You know the ugly cry. The face, snot, wailing sounds...yeah, the ugly cry.

It started out of nowhere as me and David ordered burgers. I even had to put my sunglasses on so no one would notice, including him. Yeah..that didn't work. That started the questions, what did he do or say. Gotta love guys, they automatically think they've done something wrong. Which most of the time they have...but not this time. I couldn't even talk as I ate my burger through tears. I thought about it as we rode home on the bike with the sun shining down on us. It was such a gorgeous day.....and I'm in tears. GEEZ!!!! Though I had been crying for a few weeks, it was the first time I had cried in front of anyone and had to explain what I felt.

When we got home, Lucy had some "splaining" to do. Wow, where do I start? I feel like time is running out and I haven't explored the things I want to do. Haven't taken the time to do things I enjoy doing. The kids are grown and mostly out (well, baby girl is back) and my life is still revolving around everyone else. What they are doing and how they feel. Why? Why do I keep doing this? There are things I enjoy but I have no one to enjoy them with. I don't do things by myself. So I don't do them. I'm going to need to learn how to, otherwise I'm never going to do anything, and it will be the vicious circle.

I told David that even though I enjoy music and love watching our kids perform, it's his passion and their passion....not mine. I love art and photography. He use to paint in oils and hasn't in like 20 or more years. He says it's because he doesn't have the time. When we moved from Miami to Lancaster,Ca, he gave away everything, all his art stuff. Though he supports anything I do and gives me constructive criticism, he hasn't been interested in pursuing painting again. I would love for us to share that.

Instead of seeing myself as a blubbering idiot once again, I decided to make some changes. I want to create more, take some art classes....I want to take photography classes...I want to....I need to...do more me stuff. Ribfest was my first step. But obviously afternoon festing is not my thing unless there is beer involved. So early festing is the answer. It inspires me and gets the creative juices flowing. It just gives me that feel good high. Add booze and that's just perfection.

The big birthday is around the corner and nipping at my heels. So I want the Canon Rebel as my present. There is a photography studio that holds classes right by work. I'm going to enroll. There is an art studio on my way home from work....going to enroll in some classes there too. I'm tired of just rearranging stuff in my studio and not creating.

Here are some pictures of what I've been doing since my meltdown on poor David. I've also included a picture of how David spent Father's day.....pouring concrete in order to get ready for Tony's arrival (that's a post all on it's own....oh I cried buckets then too, but for different reasons)

Custer's Last Stand Festival - Went with my boss and had a blast. Inspiration galore!!! She is exactly like me and we went early and left as the place was getting packed.

Even though it was sweltering hot....I came home and started these....

Though they only have a few layers and they are not done, at least it's a start.

And it was so worth the sunburn.... OUCH!

We took Desi to the lake...ah to see sand and water through the eyes of a child.

He walked into the water like a man possessed. Isn't there a movie where Bill Murray does that?

And finally....Father's Day in Ritzland.

We now were ready for Tony's arrival.

Moment of Silence for Michael Jackson

It was October 1984. Damien was 4 years old and loved all that was Michael Jackson. We finally were in a good place financially and since we only had Damien and weren't planning on any more kids (HA!), we decided to indulge our only child and take him to his first concert. We didn't tell him where we were taking him, but to see that boy's eyes light up the moment Michael Jackson took the stage is still priceless to me. That's all the boy talked about for weeks.


Both David and I grew up watching the Jackson5 get famous. I loved watching Michael dance, it was truly amazing. On Thursday as we were relaxing in our hotel room celebrating the beginning of our anniversary weekend, we got a call from Tony, who had just left Chicago for the next leg of his own tour, to tell us Michael Jackson had died. Although Tony didn't grow up during MJ's rise, he was a huge fan. He considered him a musical genius.

We sat in our hotel room transfixed to the TV watching CNN and MTV. Unbelievable to think he was only 50 and now he is gone.

Another legend dies.............

The Prom is for Assholes Extravaganza

I was reading Vodkamom's post on her daughter's broken heart and being dumped weeks before prom. It reminded me of Anjleika's prom fiasco and it pissed me off all over again. What the hell goes on in the mind of these teenage boys? Seriously, what possesses them to do this to a girl just before prom? After the dress is bought and arrangements made, not to mention the fact that the girl looks forward to her big night. It's suppose to be magical, her chance to get all dressed up and feel like a princess.

When this happened to my baby girl (she is now 22), I was out for blood. I was fuming. But nothing prepares you for the hurt and sadness you see in your daughters face. I, as usual wanted to fix it. I suggested she go stag (nope), I offered to take her out (nope), then I had a brilliant idea. We would throw our own prom party and call it... TA DA...Prom Is For Assholes. ( Yes, I set a great example). She got a kick out of that and started the party planning. Everyone would be dressed in prom attire. At least she would be able to wear her dress. Her oldest brother offered to be the DJ. Word spread that it was the party to be at. Her best buddy, Kirby was her date, who happened to end up being her boyfriend a couple of years later. I set up a backdrop for "prom" pictures and she made a banner.....

Prom is For Assholes.

There were over 40 people all dressed up and ranging in ages 17-50. There was Jamba Juice for those 21 and over and punch for those under. We had a great time and the party ended in the wee hours of the morning. We had a bunch of kids spend the night and the adults gave rides to those that had to go home.

The best part was seeing just how happy my daughter was and telling her friends that this was better than any damn prom she would have gone to.

To those stupid boys....in my daughter's words....hell with you, I'll throw my own damn party.

Prom Queen

and her date

Her BFF

Damien the DJ

Prom Pics:

Prom is over and the princess sleeps.........

Hello Ritz? Death here

Friday's always bring me great joy. I bounce into work proclaiming it to be "Fun Friday" no matter what kind of day I know I'll have. It's all in the attitude. This past Friday was going to be better than any I've had in the past 6 months. Why was this day so special? David got called back to work. YEA!! We can now start climbing out of near financial ruin. The best news? My boob test is NORMAL! Hell yea. I was doing the happy dance and riding the happy train.

Then it happened....my"Fun Friday" turned into "Fuck Friday".

It all started with an incident at work, towards the end of the day and then I got a phone call from my aunt. The phone call changed everything. My emotions, attitude, priorities, my view on family and life. It's strange how one phone call can do that. At that moment the situation at work was trivial.

Roberto, my dad's best friend died. He had gone to walk the dog. His wife found him sitting in his chair with his coat still on. She thought he had fallen back asleep. He wasn't breathing and there was no pulse. By the time the paramedics came there was nothing they could do. He was 79. The same age my dad would have been today. I just saw him last Monday when he had stopped by my office to say hello. He would do that when he was in the neighborhood. He would come in say hello and then go to my aunt's house to reminisce and talk politics. He was 79 but looked like he was 60. A good looking 60. The type of man that made younger women's head turn. Charming? Very. I remember bartending some Christmas parties at the hotel he worked at when I was younger. He was the bar manager then and women would line up on his side to order drinks. We made a game out of seeing who had the most tips at the end of the night. Though I raked in some serious cash, he always won. He was 59 then.

My dad and his sisters were friends with Roberto before I was even born. He is in all the pictures of any of our family occasions. My favorite picture is of my dad and him at a picnic when I was 6. Something about that picture says so much about their friendship to me.

My emotions are more than just about his passing. It's about my dad, my two aunt's who are in their 70's also, and my own mortality. I left work and went to my aunt's house. There they were with Roberto's other best buddy, Ray. I walked in to find Ray crying. I've only seen him cry one

other time in my 49 years. That was when my dad died.

I miss you both.

Dad

Roberto

Cutting the cord....5 years too late

There was a time when I couldn't wait till all 3 kids turned 18 and move out of the house. I dreamt that when that day came, I would be doing a naked dance around the house with my ball and chain of how ever many years, and I wouldn't have to be so involved in every aspect of their lives. My life would be my own.

HA! The joke is on me.

The happy naked dance never happened.

I'll admit it, I cried when each left, but I knew we had done a good job raising them. I was proud of them and it was time for them to embark on their own journey. Each took their own path, the oldest got married and started his own family, the youngest is on her own and learning to be independent, and my middle son is following his dream.

This past week has taught me a few things about myself as well as having adult children.

My 23 yr old son's fiance went out to visit him in Denver last week and it wasn't the week either of them had envisioned. The life he is leading there is very different than the one he led here. This life doesn't work very well with a long distance relationship. They broke up.

After hearing third party analysis of what happened, I called my son. It broke my heart to hear his voice. It was torn between staying with the band or coming back home to Laura and the life he had here. Our families are intertwined even before they became a couple, so this has affected us all. My son is hurt and confused. I thought of all kinds of ways for this to work out. He could fly home away from everything that is going on there and get a different perspective. I made plans.

I realize that I take charge of situations and try to fix them. Some people may even call it being a control freak, I prefer the nicer version...a control enthusiast. But there comes a time that you have to step back and accept the fact that you did your job and that from now on you have to just be the observer and bite your tongue. This only happened after I spoke to Laura. After I heard her version of what transpired. It's only then, that I went from the mommy part of me, "my poor baby" to the woman in me, "WTF" to the angry mommy side, " I didn't raise him, to act that way".

Going to Denver, I knew was going to be very different for him. We had talked about it. My concerns and fears for him. I was constantly reminded that we had done a good job and he had a good head on his shoulders. But then I had my second conversation with him and I was angry.
Because the stories I heard was not the son I knew, it was not the man I believed him to be...it was not who I raised.

He has only been gone 4 months. Can that change a man so much? That his wants and needs come first at whatever the cost? Has his head become so big from the adulation and having groupies? Dude, it's not the Rolling Stones, you may be big enough in your corner of the world. But....Seriously???

So this Valentine's Day, I have to accept the fact that I can't fix this. That I have to watch the train wreak from the sidelines. I have to believe that we taught him well and at some point he will realize that how he is behaving is not who he is. I may be disappointed in him at this time but I have to believe that this will pass.

Tony is not 3 anymore and I can't make him do or act as I think he should.
I can not mend their broken hearts nor can I make everything all better.

It is hard to completely let go.
It is hard for me to not tell him what I think he should do.
I want to scold him for behaving the way he is.

I want my baby boy back..... but I've had to cut the cord, even though it's 5 years after I should have..

See Ya............

He is gone... but as he constantly reminded me...

"I'll be back at Christmas..even if it's only for a few days"

(sheds a tear)...ok in reality I sobbed BIGTIME

Tears...

I know its coming....I am excited for him.

But it hit me hard tonight.
I said I would buy the plane ticket for him.

Tonight he said ..."It's time to make the reservation mom. Anytime after the 15th, I think Wednesdays are cheaper"

He kissed me and went down to the basement to hang out with dad and the rest who were gathered here to go to Damien's show tonight.

Then the tears came...a flood of emotions...

He is really leaving.