Happy Endings @ Missing the Ground

I just wanted to give anyone out there still reading this blog a link express ride over to a place where I will be posting from now; Missing the Ground, sponsored by Travellinbaen.  I plan on keeping The (After) Life of the Party up and going, but more so as a Mommy Blog than anything else.  I do hope that you follow me over to the new place, as there is quite a few talented bloggers posting there and I know that there will be something for everyone. 

Hope to see you all there!!

A Glimpse of Austin

Today I got up early and tip toed around the house, mending ends and odds, adhering to my morning ritual.  Austin and 2 of his cousins (Kaelina and Emily) are sleeping on the couch, I suspect they'll be there for a great deal of the morning as they had a late night.  As I enter tags from last night, Austin rolls over and his blanket loses grip of him and shows his knees.  Horribly filthy knees.  I quickly recollect his day time activities from yesterday, a trip to the pond, work on the tree fort, helping his Papa with trailer work (in the dark) and I can't seem to help myself from smiling.

His face is reminiscent of his stage of infancy, a transformation that only happens during sleep.  12 years of becoming Austin, has made him incapable of hiding his emotions (that are nearing the oh so dreaded teens) during his awake hours, undeniably showing his age in progress.  Feeling a bit lost in the state of pride, I glance once again to his knees.  As they are, at this moment in time, my fixation.  Not only are they dirty and grimy looking, but there is something else to them that holds my attention.  They appear larger, almost as if they are too big for his body.  Built to hold a man who isn't quite there.

The realization of it all is almost frightening.  All too many are the times that I see glimpses of the man that Austin will become,  his age being a clear indicator that time is running out.  That soon the days/moments that are taken for granted will slip through my fingers and his childhood will have made it's course into our memories.  It's that slight tilt of the head, that shows his future broad nose.  Or that look of determination that ages his eyes, just a bit.  The way he words his sentences that encourages those near to take him seriously and treat him as an equal.  And those knees; those strong,  worked knees that will carry him into his adult life.  The ones reminding me now, that today is yet another day that nears us closer to his adulthood.

Mission Impossible

Last night I infiltrated a Gummy bear camp. A lone, orange, Gummy bear went out to the woods to attend nature's call. On his way back, I attacked him and (somehow) crawled inside of his body.

I quickly found out that maneuvering the Gummy bear's body was quite the chore, perhaps they are stronger than I had initially thought they were.

When I finally made it back to the camp, the leader was furiously drawing wide circles in the dirt. Crossing out little boxes with hate filled grunts, cheers erupted delightfully and chubby Gummy bear arms pumped wildly in the air. Oh, my shoulders ached.

Orders seemed to be assigned, as someone handed me an over-sized bag and pointed wildly behind me. I grunted strong, feeling it to be the correct response and headed into the pointed direction. When I felt like nobody was looking, I bunny hopped.  The big jelled wall that was in between my legs made for a horrible waddle and the bunny hop move felt easier to maneuver.

Not knowing exactly what my orders were, I started to gather firewood. It made sense at the time, as the woods were behind me. I walked around aimlessly, bordering the edges of the camp, trying to see what everyone else was doing. I'd gather a small load and dump it off and return back to gather more. My heart was pounding. I was exhausted. I was starting to forget why I even infiltrated this place to begin with. Was it a mission or just pure curiosity?

"No" I thought, "I must get firewood to prepare for the feast." Feeling determined I did that. As the night progressed and I neared filling the order of firewood required, I noticed my Gummy bear suit feeling tighter, easier to manage. I usually have a dull pain in my left shoulder blade, that sometimes acts up, funny it didn't appear to be there anymore. My necessity to bunny hop for quicker movement was no longer needed. I moved quite freely actually.

"Julius, we are ready to start the ceremony." I heard Hazel call. I grabbed my bag and headed back to camp, reclaiming my spot in the campfire circle.

Mother Bear Complex, It's Good Stuff.

The other day while I was sweeping, preparing the floors for a wash, I noticed the cutest little black cricket work its way out from in-between two shoe filled baskets.  My immediate thought was to help this little fellow out, scoop it up and return to the lawn and the land of riches.  In fact I was on my way to do so, when a sudden panic hit me and my mind went to the darker corner of it’s hemisphere; where Hexxus hisses warnings of impending doom. 

I couldn’t help but feel like I was being duped into some sort of weird “cute and cuddly” act that this cricket was convincingly portraying.  Just why was it hanging out by the shoes, all alone and helpless?  Why would it suddenly meander out into eyesight, or danger for that matter, at that moment in time?  What if it wasn’t cute and cuddly at all?  What if it wanted me to think that it was, but in fact it was really some sort of mutant cricket that spent it’s destitute life in search of delectable treasure and having not found said tasty treat in a hasty moment decided that human flesh had not been on the menu and therefore should be consumed in order to determine whether or not that it is the flesh of it’s liking.  Ohhh Emmm Geee!!  It became clear, that the cricket was hunting me down as its prey.  WTF?   How could my day get any worse, when I was already having to clean the house in sweat inducing heat, that I should now be hunted by a freaking mutant cricket?! 

 I stood there watching it with new and informed eyes, waiting for it to make its move.  Panic washed over me, like lava scolding the earth; it left me bare, naked of any hope in getting myself out of this life or death situation.  I stood there, statuesque; mid walk broom in one hand and a dustpan in the other.  Only moving my eyes in hopes of finding a means of escape, while trying to determine if I could out run this death insect.  “What is that, Momma?  Is it a grasshopper?  It’s funny.”  Ryder said as he was pointing at the cricket.  It had appeared that while I weighed out the different plans of escape in my own mind, Ryder had made his way down the hall, unnoticed, and in a direct line of attack with the deadly mutant cricket. 

In a feigned act of great strength and total super hero antics I replied, “Oh it’s just a cricket sweetie.”  As, I walked over on jelly legs I forced myself to bend down as my skinned crawled with the “ewws”.  I quickly and with jerk(ish) reflexes swept it up in the dustpan, ran it out the kitchen door heaving the mutant cricket loaded dustpan into the front yard and promptly shut and locked the door.  “No big deal,” I relay to him after my horrific display of cool, “it’s just a cricket”. 

Proving, yet once again, that momma bear is a force to be reckoned with.  There ain’t nothing and nobody that could put my babies in danger, no matter how mythical the creature may be or what delusional state I am currently  in at the time…I’ve got their backs.

Three French Hens

A couple of months ago I took my very first  (alone) trip to meet up with three other blogger(s).  It was a big step in the right direction for many reasons; I journeyed out on my own for the first time, which was the scariest part of the whole scenario.  I was able to interact with 3 people who have become a part of my daily environment on a more personal level.  There always seems to be a underlying curiosity of whether the people we have grown to love through blogging truly are the way they appear (or present themselves to be) in their blogs.  We seemed to have established an order of communication that would help us decipher who is who in this world of the could be.  We had all journeyed past our blogs and sent emails to one another,  including each other into a part of our lives that seemed to be deeper than the blog.  Then, naturally, we all became friends on Facebook.  Which inevitably led to our meeting up at Samsmama's house for a weekend get away.

The weekend was set to casual and luckily I had packed enough pajamas to get me through a week (what?  I like to be comfortable).  Smart planning had us all landing around the same time as one another and Samsmama made the loops in picking us up.  Where we all took turns seeing one another for the first time, feeling wow'd and sharing hugs.  Our conversations went from humble, to serious, to incredibly ridiculous and we all seemed to mesh well with one another.  All of it the perfect formula to figuring out who we all really are.


Samsmama

My hostess with the mostess, this woman wouldn't let us do a thing (not to mention that we were not allowed in the kitchen).  She opened her home to us and I truly felt at home there (that says a lot).  I have often heard her describe herself as snarky.  Which I am not sure is the case with her, only because I find snarkiness to be incredibly bitchy and I do not see her that way at all.  She is, however, wonderfully witty and seriously fast with it.  So stay on your toes, because she'll have you choking on your beverage before you know it.  She is able to keep topics light with such wonderful comedic ease that you can't help but notice the ache in your cheeks from smiling all too much.  She is also incredibly caring, giving and so heartwarming(ly) deep, that there are moments when I wish I could hug her more often.  She and her husband have an amazing union.  In fact, one night I heard her and her husband talk til 1 in the morning, I have never seen two people so interested in one another, a companionship that is one to envy.   She has passion that supersedes her wittiness that makes her one of the strongest people I have ever met.  I seriously love this girl.

Jessica O

My valley girl from Texas carries with her one of the most bombastic laughs that I have ever heard escape the mouth of a woman, it's a contagious riot waiting to happen.  She's almost a demanding  presence, in the sense that she is a bit competitive (and I only say that from a Scrabble point of view), and that she is ready to entertain the masses.  Jessica O reminds me a bit of my sister Mel, that they are both anal with facts; which is a good trait to have and they also make great people to go to for information.  She also reminds me a bit of myself, in the sense that she is tortured by the idea of picking everything apart and analyzing the shit out of it.  But she is willing do to so unbiasedly and emphathetically, which results in a very accepting, gifted and beautiful person.  She also has a wild side that screams to be let out to play and I can't wait to tap into it and get into some serious trouble with her.


Kate 

Is the total package.  Her timeless beauty, intelligence and sheer will power makes for an incredible human being.  Add to that the bit of southern twang that wraps itself around her every word and she is the picture of elegance.  Her soft gentle appearance almost undermines her drive for betterment, as she is a force to be reckoned with.  She can be to the point, but also shares with it a comedic gracefulness that flows magically about the room.  When I think of Kate, I think of sunshine; an everlasting light reaching out to touch others and I am glad to have been in her presence.

I'm proud to be able to call these women my friends and I hope they feel the same.  And?  I cannot wait until we all get together again..it's going to be legen...wait for it...

Come and listen to a story about a man named...

Have you ever watched an episode of House (or any other show like it) and thought to yourself "WTF dude (person suffering from some sort of ailment), clearly something is wrong with you, call the doctor".  But they don't and they wake up in the hospital dying and then you think to yourself "What were they thinking?  I would never do something like that, when you feel like something is wrong you go with that gut instinct and take care of it. Likemotherfuckingduh!"  I always get that feeling.  Well, with a side of "maybe I just feel like that because I already know for a fact that something is wrong."   I gotta admit that initial "that person has a huge chunk of re in their tards" wins outs and I'm left with that feeling of thinking they are the dumbest people alive.

In fact I say that with great ease, because I am one of the dumbest people alive.  Almost five years ago, after giving birth to Ryder, I found myself in horrible pain and I did not mention it to anyone.  After a couple of days, I phoned my doctor's office (he was on vacation) and spoke with an on call doctor.  At this point I knew something was wrong and told her of my dilemma.  She mentioned "You just had a baby, that's just how it is" (sparing me the "duh" but definitely implying it) and told me it would pass.  A couple of days later, I called my sister (Jessica) and asked her to come over because I felt like I was going to pass out and I didn't want to end up passing out and have Ryder be all alone.  She showed up and was immediately alarmed at my condition.  I was then running a 106 degree fever and looking like death showed up at my door and rubbed shit all over me. 

Long story short it took a couple of doctor visits, a lot of persistence and another random on call doctor to determine that (indeed) something was wrong with me.  The 2nd on call doctor came back into the room and said "Harmony, I need you to go straight to the hospital and there you are meeting with the head of surgery.  He is going to take excellent care of you."  Two surgeries later, I was hooked up to a bottle of morphine, with a 15 minute booster button.

I woke up during the first surgery and that alarmed everyone.  But I felt great, I wasn't in any pain and that was an absolute first for the previous week.  "Hey how's it going?" I asked coolly.  They were finishing up, so I promised to not move around and to tell them if I felt any pain.  Before the 2nd surgery I had a new anesthesiologist and he told me to not worry that I wouldn't be waking up this time around.  I was telling him that I didn't mind the first time, but I woke up in the recovery room shortly after I started to tell him that.

My family swarmed the hospital.  Mainly, Jessica and Melody, stayed with me.  Every night, one of them was there.  But I only remember bits and pieces.  I was high as a kite and as long as someone was pushing my booster every fifteen minutes I didn't have a worry (pain) in the world.  I'm thinking the guy that came up with the code on Lost had at some point in his life the same sort of thing, because once my mom forgot to push my button and I remember waking in the most God awful pain I've ever felt and it was made known "push the button or it's all over". 

My family suffered through this period of time in my life, while I felt nothing.  Well, I felt calm.  There was, in fact, one point during my stay there that I had thought to myself that if something did happen to me that it would be okay.  I got to see and hold Ryder, Austin was such a good loving boy and Ant and I were in a really good place.  I knew that he would keep me alive in their hearts and that made me feel at peace.  In the outside world, my Mom was fucking losing it, my sister's were trying to do it all and my husband was working his ass off trying to bring money in (at my request, just in case the insurance didn't cover any of my stay), while juggling a 6 y/o and a newborn.

10 days later I was released.  10 days!  Is that nuts or what? I went from near death (at one point I remember waking up and seeing the doctor praying over me) to a viable human being in 10 days.   It seems so short, but it felt like an eternity.  Due to my surgery, I had to maintain my catheter and have a urine collection bag (that I lovingly named Larry).  What?  It was all the rage back then, don't judge.  My doctor's quick fix to this unsightly bag was a pillow case, tucked into the waist of my pants. Which didn't look odd at all.  At home, Larry followed me everywhere I went and as time went on everyone referred to my little piss bag as Larry.

Aside from the pain that I felt or the emotional drama that swept over my family, there are times when I look back on this little episode of my life and I can't help but smile.  My stay in the hospital has effected my life in many ways.  But all in all, it does not effect my initial feelings while watching House "That I would never be like that person practically dying and not calling the doctor".  Even if I had already been that person, my initial gut feeling is that they are too stupid for life.  Thankfully, the powers that be do not take us out based on IQ..or else I wouldn't get to judge those poor dumb bastards on TV.

It Drives Me Crazy...

Today I had to get gas.  I cannot tell you how annoying it is to get gas in my vehicle and no, it has nothing to do with the price (although the cost can suck a bag of dicks!).  Anyway, something is seriously wrong with my gas tank.  Not the tank itself, but the spout in which one uses to insert the gas pump.  The pump always clicks off within a couple cents of filling, it will never do a steady stream and I REALLY hate it.  By the 10th time it clicks off, I find that I start bargaining with it "Come on, just do a steady stream.  If you do,  I'll always come back to this pump, #5 right? Always!  Me and you BFF all the way."  By the 873rd time it clicks off, I am so over it that I am making threats "So help me the next time you click off, I'm done.  I'm going to leave and you only worked $8.00 out of me.  Is that what you want, to be the pump that would only put $8 into an Expedition?  Is it?!"  Which always leaves me with this thought: "FUCK!!!" It takes far too long to actually fill my tank and I only have the patience to get half a tank at a time, I seriously need to relax.   Or have a chill pill prescribed to me for the act of filling my gas tank up.

Dr. Meds:  I see here on your chart, Harmony, that you are experiencing some anxiety while at the gas pump.  Given the current state of our economy, I can definitely understand your reaction.  Why, you wouldn't believe the influx of patients I have due to gas prices alone. 

Me: Yeah, yeah..the prices suck.  But I'm more concerned with the fact that either my car does not like being filled up or that every gas pump in Northern California fucking hates me. 

Dr. Meds:  I'm feeling that you might be suffering from low self esteem, surely you do not actually believe that inanimate objects have a strong dislike for you.

Me:  Wouldn't you feel a little low about yourself if your vehicle and/or gas pumps wouldn't cooperate with you?  In reality, I'm feeding one so that it will have a long lasting life, without me it would be a hunk of metal sitting in the driveway never seeing the world around it.  And the other one I am paying for it's existence.  Without our involvement it would cease to exist, it would literally not be needed anymore.  And neither one gives a shit!  I'm practically a source of their livelihood and they are choosing to ignore my presence in their lives and not only that, they are fucking with me on a weekly basis!  And you don't think that deserves a little more attention from you, that you can so easily dismiss such an evil act of co conspirators to blame me and some low self esteem issues..really?!?!

Dr.  Meds:  I see.  *presses intercom button*  Nurse clear my schedule for the day.