Playing Favorites

I've often marveled at a mother's ability to love all her children the same. I know my heart just bursts at the seams when I think of my son and how much I love him. Have I ever wondered if I could love another child as much as I love him? Of course I have. Humans are amazing creatures, though, and there is plenty of love to go around.

I also know from having been a teacher, that you have your favorites. Pets. You try really hard not to show it, but it's there.

My mom has always had a soft spot for my older brother. Last week she called me at work like she often does, and our conversation went like this:

Her - "Boy we had a scare this week."
Me - "Really? What happened?"
Her - "Well, your brother went to the dentist and they sent him to an oral surgeon because he had a growth on his throat and it could've been cancer. They cut it off and biopsied it and it's okay, but I just couldn't sleep all week until I knew. I was just worried sick."

This is the same mother who I had to call to remind that I was having a mole biopsied in May. The same mother who I had to call and tell her two weeks later and a week after the biopsy was back that it was benign. Apparently there wasn't the same level of worry there. I was somewhat hurt and angry that she seemed so worried about him and not so much about me. But, it's always been that way.

And then I remembered - I was my dad's favorite.

Charmed

Several months ago, I wrote a post about my boss who had just bought a 2007 FJ Cruiser and then decided he didn't like the color.

First, he parked it in our parking lot with a for sale sign on it.

Sound familiar? Do you remember that?

Next, he put it on a consignment lot. It was there for three months with nary a bite. Now truly, unless it was an absolute steal, if you were buying a brand new vehicle wouldn't you go straight to the dealer? Their financing options usually can't be beat.

Yesterday he came to me for the title. He ended up taking the Cruiser BACK to the dealer he bought it from, and they sold it within three days.

He only lost $990.00 on the deal.

Why?

I read that Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson are getting married.

4 times.

What is up with that????

I heart Kid Rock. I scored front row tickets to his concert a few years ago. It was actually one of the best performances I've seen.

I do not heart Pamela Anderson. Little Miss Oh My Boobs Are Too Big and I need to reduce them so that's not what people think of when they hear my name. Oops...now my boobs are too small so I must get them enlarged again because I'm not getting enough attention.

Why do celebrities even bother to marry each other? Like that's gonna last.

Roughing It

Every year on a weekend sometime around my birthday, we get together with some friends and go camping and boating. I have fond memories of camping as a family when I was a kid, and I am hoping to give that to my son as well.

We got up to the lake and found the spot where our friends had set up camp. We had a few additional campers this year, but the more the merrier, right?

WRONG.

We go camping to get away from the hustle and bustle. We can relax in the quiet of the outdoors, paying no attention to schedule or time. The kids get to play, the adults get to play - good times to be had by all.

Except this year the newbies surrounded us with their big campers. Seriously, I've seen mobile homes smaller than these campers. They brought all the comforts of home, and that's okay. Some people need that I suppose. Except they also brought along these noisy generators to operate all the comforts of home - like their air conditioners. And these noisy generators ran ALL DAMN DAY.

Finally at nightfall we asked if perhaps they could shut the generators off so The Boy would be able to sleep.

"No problem," said owner of big trailer. "Just as soon as the girls are done watching TV."

Stay home, people.

It's My Party....

and this is what MFH got me for my birthday. Ain't they purty? As I get older I am really starting to appreciate the bling.

The Boy and I go for a bike ride every evening. I do not wear a bike helmet, because I am a rebel that way. He has always been quite concerned about that. Guess what he got me for a gift? Yes, indeed, a bike helmet. Red, because that is my favorite color. He was oh so proud to give it to me, and of course, I will wear it with pride.

The guys took me out for dinner to Applebee's. The Boy will only order chicken fingers and fries when we go out to dinner, so we are limited somewhat to where we can eat. I got this great big glass of Sangria, so it was all good. He actually suggested his favorite place, Burger King, but I talked him out of it.

The only thing dad forgot was a cake. The Boy was VERY distraught over that. We are not big cake eaters at our house, so it was fine with me. But, now that we have a child, that pomp and circumstance is important. I told him he could pick out a cake for me this weekend.

The Boy - "Mom, will it still be your birthday this weekend?"
Me - "No, honey, but we can still have a cake and we'll pretend."
The Boy - "I want you to have a ballerina cake, mom!" His eyes lit up at the thought.

MFH - "Of all the things we could put on a cake for mom, a ballerina is about the most inappropriate."

WTF?



I edited to add this picture because blogger was being such a pain in the ass today.

Here we are wearing our silly party hats. It was a great birthday!

2006-1959=

47.

Today I am 47 years old.

For the most part age is a state of mind. But, there are some things I've noticed in the past year that bother me. My periods are not as regular as they used to be. Although I look forward to being done with it all since the plumbing is useless to me, I would prefer for them to be regular as long as it's going to stick around. My body is getting "softer". I am going to have to work out harder. I am carrying around an extra 5 or so pounds, and for the first time in my life, diet is not working. I'm bummed about that. My aunt so rudely pointed out that it's because I drink beer. If that's true, why are alcoholics so often skinny? Besides, I have enjoyed beer for all of my adult life, and it's never been a culprit before now. And, I don't drink beer every day, for crying out loud, but it's never too late to start!

Birthdays were never a really big deal around our house. My mom still calls me to this day and says the same thing every year - "Do you feel a year older? Oh, it's just another day." I disagree. Every other day is just another day, perhaps, but this is the day I was born. That should be special to my mom.

This morning The Boy came up to me with raised arms. I picked him up with a big hug and he said, "Today is your birthday. Happy birthday, mommy!"

What a great way to start my 47th year.

It Was All Worth It

Overheard

It was the height of the holiday season, December 2002.

We were well into the adoption process. I had accepted as best I could that my son would not be home for his first Christmas.

By now I had become a recluse, tired of answering "I don't know" whenever I was asked when he was coming home, which seemed like the only thing anyone ever said to me.

We had to attend MFH's Christmas party. It's a small company, mostly men. There are never more than a handful of women in attendance. All of the other wives have bio children. It was during the cocktail hour that I overheard it.

"If I ever decide to have more children, I'm going to adopt like Stiletto. SHE'S DOING IT THE EASY WAY."

Tell it to my heart.

Expecting

We started the adoption process on March 7, 2002. We sent our dossier, complete with the I171H (approval to adopt from a foreign country) from the USCIS, off to our agency at the end of May. On June 1 we accepted the referral of the baby boy who would eventually become our son. On March 10, 2003 we were in Guatemala picking up The Boy.

I had a lot of time to prepare for his arrival. Now I know that June 1 to March 10 is little more than nine months. On more than one occasion it was pointed out to me that it was the same amount of time as a pregnancy, as if I didn't know this. The difference is that my baby was already born and being cared for in another country by another woman.

While I was "expecting", I came to realize what I was missing out on by not being pregnant and actually giving birth to my baby. The good stuff like feeling him and hearing his heartbeat, the body changes, and knowing him from the beginning. Even the icky stuff like stretch marks, sore boobs, labor, and calling my husband names (or would that qualify as good stuff?).

I remember sitting on the floor in the baby section at W@lmart, sobbing, because I was looking through baby books and realized that I had nothing to write in most of the sections. (Eventually I did get a great baby book online geared towards adopted children.) I cried over the teeny tiny clothes that I'd never need and the cute little diapers that I'd never buy.

One of the things that I longed for was the pregnant belly pictures. I love those. Our friends E and A were expecting at the same time we were adopting. I got to show my referral pictures at her baby shower, and she is so cool she didn't even act like I was stealing her thunder. One day when A stopped by our house for a beer, I asked about E and how big she was getting and said how I envied her. I told him I was sad not to have any pregnant belly pictures. He told me to stand to the side and hold my shirt up and hold my beer out if front of me. Then he told me to smile, take a picture, and lable it "This is mommy when she was 9 months pregnant."

At least he made me laugh.

Sports Bugs

The gym I belong to offers sports camps for kids in the summer. We enrolled The Boy in the Sports Bugs session this week, every morning from 9:30 to 11:00. This camp includes one hour of play involving kicking, throwing, and catching, and 30 minutes in the pool. Sports Bugs are 2-4 years old. There are about 20 boys and girls enrolled in this session, with three teachers, god bless them. I took him yesterday and stayed the first day to see what was involved.

It was a riot. The majority of kids were in the 2-3 year range, many of them wandering aimlessly around the gym or to their backpacks to have a sip of juice. They ran from hot lava, skipped (nothing is funnier than watching boys try to skip), and galloped. They picked up scattered tennis balls and ran to put them in their team's bucket. They crawled through hula hoops. This one was particularly difficult as most of the kids preferred to play with the hoops as opposed to holding them so others could crawl through them.

The Boy is athletically inclined and very coordinated. He has been ice skating since he was 24 months old. We play baseball, hockey, soccer, and football in the yard year round. He was very excited to attend sports camp.

Yesterday as one of the teachers was TALKING, giving instruction to these little souls all in a row on the black line, The Boy looks over at me and yells, "Mom, some of the kids aren't paying very good attention, are they." (ETA Apparently my boy is so talented that he can listen and talk at the same time!)

I was so proud.

Merge

There was a road sign about a mile back that said "LEFT LANE CLOSED AHEAD". Perhaps you didn't see that, but there was also this highly visible, big, orange, metal structure with blinking lights in the shape of an arrow indicating you should merge into traffic in the right lane. Apparently you were so consumed with the conversation you were having on your cell phone that you missed that as well.

Don't look so damn surprised that, when you had the nerve to race all the way up to the barricade, nobody stopped to let you into traffic. It's hot. Traffic is moving at a snail's pace. The rest of us have been waiting a looonnnggg time.

Being rude will get you nowhere. Very s-l-o-w-l-y.

Amendment

MFH reads my blog. He read my entry yesterday regarding The Girl.

MFH - "Stiletto, you were wrong."

Me - "I was? What part did I write about The Girl that was wrong?"

MFH - "Girls are not evil. Girls are the root of all evil. There is a difference."

Stupid Tourist Picture

We don't normally take touristy pictures because, well, I usually never look at them again. Frankly it's been forever since I've taken any picture that didn't have The Boy as the main subject. I just couldn't resist this one because a)the dragon was just standing there begging to have my head in his mouth, and b)The Boy is nutty for dragons and I knew he would love this.

ETA We did try to take a horror picture, which would have been more appropriate than a smile, but then there was some kind of raunchy statement made about being eaten which ruined the setting.

R.I.P.

Terry was a family friend. I read in my hometown newspaper that he died on July 10 at age 52.

In August 1995 Terry was injured in a motorcycle accident. We can only speculate as to what happened that night, but somebody reported a cycle and body lying off the side of the road the next morning. He spent the rest of his life in a nursing home. I guess you could call that surviving, but some might say he died that day.

My brother would visit Terry faithfully every Wednesday afternoon, until his own untimely demise in August 2002. I would ask about him and the report was always the same - Terry seemed excited to have visitors, but couldn't carry on a conversation. So, they would sit, my brother and another friend who always accompanied him, and talk so that Terry could hear about all that was going on.

When I read his obituary I cried, for a combination of reasons. I am sorry for his family and all they have been through, and for their loss. It also brought the memories of losing my own brother rushing to the surface as though it had just happened.

I can't help but hope there is a "better place" and that Terry and Daren are there now, on Harleys, exploring the highways of the sky.

Ride free.

Fender Bender

I drive a 2005 Yukon. It is absolutely my favorite car ever - next to the Camaro I sold recently. It's powerful, fast, and a nice ride. Plus, it's big. I never thought I'd like a big vehicle - until I had this one. It makes me feel safe and that's a big damn deal in this small town with lots of traffic. I'm practically invincible!

At W@lmart a month ago there was a note stuck under my windshield wiper. An older lady hit my car and pushed the bumper up and into the body. I could still open the back end, though. I was upset and angry and called MFH who very coolly reminded me that she left her name and number, which she didn't have to do.

Older lady was driving her daughter's big work truck when she hit me. She left her name and her daughter's name and number, as her daughter would be paying the bill. Daughter was elusive. We called daily - almost to the point of harrassment. And, even though we left work and cell numbers, she would call our home during the day. Finally we played our ace, and called older lady. She offered to send us her social security check the next week and the rest of the money later. (Insert sad, stricken look here.)

Daughter finally called and said the damage was significant enough that she'd turn it in to her insurance. Smart move. I would feel like absolute crap taking older lady's SS check, and it wouldn't bother me to tell daughter that it just wasn't right.

MFH is in the auto body industry and deals with insurance daily. In Montana we don't have to get comparative estimates. We can take the vehicle wherever we choose. Mr. Farmers Ins called MFH and said he had some questions regarding this case.

MFH - We'll be taking the car to XYZ and this is the repair estimate.

FI Man - What do you mean?

MFH - We are in line for the repair, and that's where we're taking it. We have the right to take it wherever we want. Can we get moving on this? It's been a month already and we'd like to get it fixed. Oh, and by the way. Since the vehicle is less than 5 years old, we will be using factory GM parts. I will not accept after market parts.

FI Man - Oh.

Anything Goes

in Vegas. But, honestly, do tube tops look good on everyone?

I've mentioned how I love fashionable footwear. Specifically stiletto heeled fashionable footwear, which I wear almost daily. Hell, I can run in most of them. In the snow. Apparently that is a tad bit different than strolling along the strip for miles and miles. Fortunately, when I was packing I had this nagging memory of sore feet in Disneyworld several years ago, and took along a pair of suede soled 4.5 inch wedges (practical shoes) which were worth their price many, many times over.

We stayed at the Excalibur. The Boy LOVES knights and castles and everything medieval, so it was bittersweet that he was not there because he would have truly enjoyed it.

MFH gambled at the tables, with little luck. I am not a gambler, but thoroughly enjoyed the penny slots, and we ended up breaking even because of those machines. It was a source of entertainment and free drinks during the heat of the day.

Good restaurants abound in Vegas and we took full advantage of that. Now, understand that we are simple folks and good restaurants are those that are not available to us here in Montana - like the Hard Rock, Harley Davidson Cafe, Hooters (great wings and those girls can definitely sport a tube top!) and Margaritaville. Yummy, all of it.

Coyote Ugly has a dress code for men. Their shirts must have sleeves. WTF? The women can be practically naked, but the men can't wear sleeveless shirts?

Funny shirt I saw on Fremont Street - a woman's tank that said "It's not going to lick itself!"

We had a great time. Time alone reconnecting, partying not quite as hard as before we had The Boy but NO hangover, and we even had morning sex! I know! That never happens!

Carry On

MFH and I checked our luggage. All of it. Maybe it's because we traveled thousands of miles with an infant and way too much other shit to drag and/or carry through airports across the country. Yeah, we had to wait at the carousel for the luggage to come out, but that took precious little time off our vacation. Maybe I'm just lucky enough to never have had my luggage lost in transit.

There is a little tiny sign at the boarding gate that says 14" X 22" is the limit for carry on luggage. But there is no limit to how FAT the bag can be apparently. My assumption is that nobody really enforces it.

Is it just me? Does this bug anyone else?

More on Vegas later when I catch up at work.

It sucks to be back.

The 4th and The 15th

We are off for the 4th of July holiday and our trip to Vegas. MFH's parents live in the little town his family homesteaded in, and we have a family reunion of sorts every year at their house. Our contribution is the fireworks, and he outdid himself this year. I hope to have nice weather - the little town canceled the 4th one year due to rain, which left us wondering just exactly how you cancel an entire day. Ah, small town Montana.

On July 6 we will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. We were married in an outside ceremony in a part of our state that is notorious for rain, but the sun shined on us in all it's glory that afternoon. We danced our wedding dance to Motley Crue's 'Without You' not only because we are 80's music whores or because Motley Crue is one of the best bands ever, but because there is nothing prettier than a metal ballad.

Now, 15 years later, I can honestly say I would do it all over again. I married my soulmate and best friend, and it just doesn't get any better than that.

Now, roll them bones, baby! Mama needs a new pair of shoes!

I'm Annoyed

The Boy and I were shopping at W@lmart this morning. We were in the shampoo aisle when a little girl in the cart ahead of us looked up at me. Her eyes were swollen and all crusted up with pink eye. She had dried ooze all over her cheeks. She was touching the kid's shampoo bottles and of course her hands were all over the cart. I should have said something to her mother. This was the worst case I have ever seen.

We got what we needed and were out of that aisle lickety split. I got in the next row and put sanitizer all over The Boy's hands and my own, too.

Good Lord, people - keep your infected kids at home.

Ugh.