Gran

My grandma passed away one year ago today at 97 years old.  Having had her with us that long did not ease the pain of losing her at all as she was here so much longer for us to love.  I think it may have made it harder, in fact.  Gran, as I called her, was born Carmella Focarile but she despised her given name; she was always called Mildred or Millie.  We lived in a two-family house in NY and Gran was my constant companion--being an only child, I had her all to myself and she was a fabulous playmate.  No matter what she was doing, be it cleaning, washing or cooking her sensational meals, she always made time for me.  She never grew tired of my constant questions and yammering about this doll or that book, what she was doing, how we might spend the day or any other of my youthful ramblings.  She taught me how to do everything from reading to cooking and cleaning and she was there for every milestone in my life.  Without a doubt, she is the person who has influenced my life the most and the person whose opinion mattered the most to me.  I never questioned if her love was unconditional because she showed me each and every day that it was.  The greatest compliment my husband gives me is when he calls me "Little Millie."  I could not be more proud.

Gran, a year may have transpired but there has not been a day that has gone by when I do not think about you, talk about you to the children or miss you.  If I could be half the woman you were, then I would have truly accomplished something in my life.

                                                         

Tests, Tests and More Tests

We are in the midst of high school finals week and, believe me, it is not a week we enter into lightly. There are lots of tears and gnashing of teeth and then, when I am finally calm, the real studying begins.  You know there is a lot of stress because most of the conversations I have had with my son recently revolve around topics such as 'uber-mensch' and its possible application,  C.S. Lewis' philosophy on moral law and Punnet Squares.  My brain hurts.

Because there are two tests per day, I have the benefit of eating lunch with my son for the three days of finals.  Yesterday, as I sat across from my 'almost-man' (no, I suppose I never did believe he would grow up this quickly) as he expounded upon the the differences between moral and natural law, I could not help but think back to when he was just a newborn and how terrified I was that I might break him or worse, somehow ruin his life forever by making some poor parenting choice.  I remember standing and watching him through the one-way mirror at his preschool silently mouthing (but screaming inside) 'play' as he stood in the center of the room questioning why I had left him there alone.  I continued to watch him each time I dropped him off, praying that this time he would engage, make a friend, at least do something instead of just standing there.  Finally, the day before Thanksgiving (yes, folks, my darling baby boy subjected me to this form of  mommy torture for that long), he left the center of the room and started playing and I knew he would be fine.  Now as we discuss his study strategy for the rest of finals and he tries to engage me in one of his theoretical discussions on moral law, I have proof that he is just that--fine.  No, he is just perfect to me.

Irked

Last night, my son, an Ambassador at his school's recent Open House, came to me unsettled about a caustic commentary a man who had attended the event had written about our school. He attacked our school's philosophy, a few teachers along the way, our students and the unsuspecting moms who had volunteered to help out at the event.   There was an amazing outpouring of comments on this man's blog from teachers, students, alumni and parents--all written from a point of intellect, feeling and religious conviction.  I questioned whether I would also respond, but I am choosing to not justify his invectives with a comment of my own on his blog.

That said, I am not impressed with people who intentionally set out to be incendiary for the sake of riling people up but whose accusations are baseless (or, in this case, gleaned from a mere two hour open house visit). I have not been known to walk away from a good verbal sparring, but I want the basis for my debates to be honest, real and valid-- not created for self-promotion as clearly was done in this case.  While I am not a medical doctor, I am a pretty decent armchair psychiatrist and I feel that people such as this suffer from an affliction called Pompous Pseudo-Intellectual Syndrome (PPIS for short).  Unfortunately, while there is no cure for PPIS, the issue can be helped by a heavy dose of humility and a follow-up mental exercise in trying to understand why enjoyment is found in this type of flagrant attention-seeking behavior. Hopefully, all PPIS sufferers can get the help the truly need.  

Extreme Green

Last night, I read an article about a family whose entire output of garbage for one year fit into a medium-sized glass jar.  No, I do not spend my evenings scouring 'green' magazines for ideas but, instead, am prone to a more guilty pleasure of checking out what celebrities are wearing or getting a serious dose of upcoming fashion trends.  It was in one of 'those' magazines that I found this particular article.  I am trying not to be overly judgmental and given that my personal carbon footprint would be Big Foot-sized if not for my husband's chiding, but this does seem a tad extreme (bordering on downright impossible for regular folk, no?).  To be honest, my seeming lack of regard for the environment stems less from wanting to think about future generations and more from my own OCD tendencies and overall distaste for anything piling up or waiting to be saved for recycling.  I also cannot imagine taking glass jars to stores to be filled up with food nor could I ever wear second-hand clothes no matter how many times I had washed them before wearing them.  The thought of a compost heap in my yard with lots of 'good, earth-friendly worms' only makes for horrific nightmares for me instead of the  organically grown produce this mom lovingly grew at her house.  While I certainly applaud this family's efforts, I think I will continue to keep candy in my jars and garbage in our large garbage can and try not get too annoyed at my husband when he takes cans out of the garbage and washes them for recycling.

What's For Dinner?

A few weeks ago, my double wall ovens decided that they wanted their chance at annoying me, too, since my family was having so much fun with it.  Both of them decided that they needed the rest that I so longed for, so they stopped working rather than forging on ahead as I have been known to do despite exhaustion.  To be honest, I was annoyed by their surprise death as they had shown no signs of illness the night before.  I called the repairman and was told that the part needed to be ordered and so began our foray into a week of stove top meals. Chili, crab cakes, Mexican chicken and pasta with meat sauce. You name it and I made it all over rice or pasta-carb heaven.

I looked so forward to today when my ovens would be brought back to the land of the living and I could make cupcakes.  I needed a cupcake!  But, alas, there would be no cupcake making today as my poor ovens have yet to be resuscitated.  I was told we would need yet another part and...wait for it...it will take yet another week to arrive.  As I was pouring over websites for new and exciting stove top recipes, I could not shake the feeling that my once dutiful ovens were pretty happy with this nice respite from constant use.  But the worst part of all is that I don't get to make those stinking cupcakes and I really need a cupcake today!

Today Is Your Birthday!

Yes, I have become a crazy dog person. C'mon, you know the type of person I am talking about, we all do.  While I do not wear clothes emblazoned with puppies wearing bows (okay, I do have one shirt that has a doodle on it and says 'It's all about the doodle' but I only wear it in the house), I do talk incessantly to Phoebe, our labradoodle, and I ask her questions and wait for an answer. I have been known to dress her up for Halloween and buy her multiple gifts from 'Santa' (I get annoyed if one of the children mentions it in front of her, lest it spoil the surprise). I also believe that her birthday should be celebrated with full abandon. So, since today is her 3rd birthday, I am dedicating this blog to her for all the joy she has brought us since her arrival on that cold night in March a few years back.  She flew all the way from Arkansas--during a rogue but dangerous ice storm--to Dallas and then into our arms.  Her quirky demeanor has brightened many a gray day for us and she deserves for this day to be special.  The gifts are bought and wrapped and her party hat is ready for her photo op tonight-we are ready to celebrate. Happy birthday, Phoebe!

Post-holiday Blues

All that time and planning and in a mere week we have put Christmas behind us, turned a calendar page to a new year and we are now readying ourselves for the return to school (and homework, tests, finals, play practice, choir, baseball tryouts, First Reconciliation and the usual weekly activities...and this is only January, the pace picks up as we near spring). I love the holiday season and always swear to pay more attention to enjoying the preparations but, I fall far short of my expectations and then I am always a little sad when I did not find the time to do all that I had planned or to have captured every moment.

As I type this entry, the wind is howling, a constant reminder that there is a lot of winter still ahead.  That knowledge certainly does nothing to improve my already melancholic mood, but it does make me long for summer all the more.