from the planet of janet

I thought it was only fitting ...

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Wed, 11 Jul 2012 07:30:00 +0000

My Roo-girl -- the apple of my eye, the cream in my coffee, the heart of my heart -- is 18 years old today.

And although this blog has lain fallow (untouched and password protected) for more than a year, I thought this was a necessary post to write.

You have watched my girl grow up on this blog -- from an insecure middle schooler to a confident young woman.

And today, she is no longer a child.

Today, she is an adult.

The towhead toddler who had "juice and cake" with me at Starbucks before Mommy and Me class.

The teeny little flyer of the pee-wee cheer team, afraid of nothing in the air.

The insecure middle schooler you met at 13 just as she was celebrating her bat mitzvah.

The ninth grader who hopped out of the car on day 1 of high school and walked away without a backward glance.

The confident cheerleader who flies through the air.

The high school graduate who triumphed by getting accepted to all five out-of-state universities that she applied to.

And so, my precious girl, the world considers you a legal adult.

But to me, you will always be my baby girl.

Happy birthday, Roo. I love you from the bottom of the ocean to the top of the sky and ALL the way around the world ...

And then some.

Mary-Kate? Ashley?

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Thu, 03 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

... Or the Roo-girl?

I'll never tell!

Weekly Winners: January 23-29

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Sun, 30 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Today's photographs come to you courtesy of my phone. Sorta. Whatever.

Shadow play:

Pay no attention to the bad puffy hair day I was having ...

Sunrise, sunset:

It was sunrise, just for the record

Tuck, tuck, goose!

Ok, so no, this was not an iPhone photo. Whatever.

Guard dog:

She would have killed me if she had realized I was shooting photos of her while she slept,

but the idea of a guardian rat dog was too tempting for me.

The only shot that actually wasn't taken this week:

This was hanging around on my phone camera roll and brought back some fond memories.

Can you identify this place?

I know some of you can ... and no, there's no prize for guessing correctly.

Weekly Winners is the brainchild of Braden's mother, Lotus. Go visit her and her photographer buddies.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

Speaking of visiting, go visit me at You Won't Go Blind, where bedroom hijinks ensue!

Scorpio, oh Scorpio, wherefore art thou, Scorpio?

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Tue, 18 Jan 2011 22:00:00 +0000

*Ring ring*

"Hello?"

"Couldn't you have waited 13 more days to give birth?"

Um, what?

Yeah, that was the way the Drama King said hello to me the other day.

It seems that the uproar over "what's your astrological sign NOW?" has cut poor DK to the core. The young man has been a Scorpio since the day he was born (Nov. 10, 1983, for anyone who's counting). He is quite proud of his Scorpiosity. In fact, when he was 18, he went so far as to have a lovely *cough cough* scorpion tattoo permanently affixed to his upper arm/shoulder.

Now, with all the talk of the switch in the stars and signs and stuff, he is grumpily perplexed.
"I guess I have to start thinking about tattoo removal," he humphed.

While this would not be the worst thing he has ever had to do, in my opinion, I was still trying to maintain a straight face as he bemoaned his now-Libra fate.

"NO NO NO," he wept. "I am SO not a Libra. So really, couldn't you have held off for 13 more days?"

I really really REALLY tried not to laugh as I answered.

"No, dear. That arrival time was more determined by YOU than me. And besides, you were already 9 pounds 2 1/2 ounces. Can you imagine how big you would have been two weeks later?????"

Yeah, honestly, it was bad enough as it was, with that huge watermelon head and all. *Shudder* Let's not talk about this anymore, k?

He did find it hilarious that under these new guidelines, my Dec. 9 birthday now would move from the more traditional Sagittarius to some weird serpent thing with an unpronounceable name.

"Occi what? Ophi who? What the heck IS that thing?" I asked him. "To me it sounds like Doc Ock
-- and that's NOT a good thing!"

"Ophiuchus," DK patiently explained, "is a serpeant-bearer -- like a man grabbing a snake."

*cue the hysterical laughter of a 12-year-old boy masquerading as his mother*

"Uh ... I'm thinking that would be a better sign for YOU."

He was not amused.

Weekly Winners: January 9-15

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Holy moly! Two Sundays in a row for Weekly Winner?? Yup, must be cheer competition season.

Just for the record, I adore hanging out with the girls. And I'm a TERRIBLE influence on them, as evidenced by all the photos that I shot Saturday afternoon while we were waiting for the awards ceremony -- most of which I can't post since only one of them is my kid and I try not to do identifiable faces on kids who aren't mine.

They posed, they laughed, they goofed around. "Janet, shoot us!" "Janet, this way ... shoot US." "Now US!!"

I love my girlies.

So here are the things I CAN show you:

Cheer hands:

The yarn bracelets are a team-building thing. They made a complicated web with the yarn

and then the coach cut it up and wrapped pieces of it around each girl's wrist.

They never take them off.

Cheer feet:

And my little girl having a blast in the air:

Yeah, I love my girlies.

Now head over to the house of Lotus, where photographers hang out and link to their Weekly Winners.

Who's that lurking behind my blog? Who dat?

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Fri, 14 Jan 2011 16:17:00 +0000

Well.

I ALMOST missed out on one of my favorite exercises in blogland.

The official indisputable Delurking Day!

Yeah. I love it when I ask people to delurk. I usually do it on my birthday and my blogaversary, but my natal day slipped by and I plum forgot.

So when I woke up this morning and realized, "Hey! It's Delurking Day!" I figured I would make up for lost time.

So... Are you out there? Are you breathing? Show yourself in honor of this momentous blog-wide holiday.

Say hello, hi or howdy. Tell me what your plans are for the weekend (mine include a LOT of cheer competition and high school basketball). Tell me what you love about me. Tell me what you don't. Tell me what you think I should do more of/stop doing. Tell me to write more. Tell me to quit.

Just tell me.

And while you're at it, hop on over to see my latest venture: staff writer for You Won't Go Blind, which relaunched this week. It is the sexually charged brainchild of Melissa's from Rock and Drool and my first post is up today. Go. Delurk there too.

But delurk here first.

Cuz this is my planet and I'll beg if I want to.

Weekly Winners: January 2-8

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Sun, 09 Jan 2011 08:00:00 +0000

I haven't done THIS for awhile, but with the cheer competition season getting started, I figured I would have things to show off -- and so ... here I am.

First off, a little overdue piece of business. Not too long ago, I won a gift certificate to Lisa Leonard Designs (a website I lurk endlessly) by entering a contest at A Southern Fairytale, the blog of the amazing Rachel (who I adore endlessly).

Talk about exciting! I had $$ to spend on jewelry. Win-win, obviously. And as I spend a dramatic amount of time with a camera pressed firmly to my face, looking at the world through a lens, I picked this:

Get it? it's a camera -- along with a little "j" (for ME!) I love this piece with the white-hot passion of a thousand autoflashes. Thank you, Rachel and Lisa!!

And now, the other stuff.

The Orange Lantern:

Do you recognize the Drama King behind that orange hoodie?

Me neither.

Rainy day rose:

Sometimes it just all goes bad:

And sometimes? It's perfect:

I recommend clicking on this one to make it big enough to see.

It's part of their competition routine and it ROCKS!

There are more Weekly Winner offerings at Lotus' place. Lotus is amazing. I love her. I especially love her son's baby toes.

Looking back, looking forward

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Fri, 31 Dec 2010 20:00:00 +0000

In the interest of actually getting back on the horse, I am stealing this from Jennifer and about a zillion other bloggers. I am nothing if not a follower, although if it's something that makes me take a look at myself and my world, how can that be bad?

1. What did you do in 2010 that you’d never done before?
I did a lot of things in 2010 that were different, but nothing that I had never done before. Oh, except for handing a set of car keys to my youngest child and watching her drive away. *shudder*

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
Actually I didn't make any resolutions for 2010. I don't generally make them. But I do have a plan for myself in 2011 -- exercise. I'm unhappy with my body and aggravated by my ongoing back issues, so I'm looking at pilates classes. I have done those before and I think it will be good for me. Hey, the pole-dancing grandma (with the same back problem) swears by it!

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Ha. A better question would be "Did anyone close to you enter menopause?" Ah, I kid. I have loads of friends still in their child-bearing years, but most of them are blog buds and nowhere near enough geographically for me to snuggle a baby.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
The husband of a chorus friend. And I was affected greatly by the death of a fellow cheer mom and the vegetative state of another.

5. What countries did you visit?
Nothing outside of the continental U.S., but the trips I took were legendary: Florida in February and Pennsylvania in July -- trips with different purposes that resulted in some awesome blog meet-ups with some of my favorite people (Karen, Michelle and the blog-less FrenchgirlRN, Jeni). In 2011, it will be Kaytabug! WHOOHOOO!

6. What would you like to have in 2011 that you lacked in 2010?
Energy. And possibly a waistline.

7. What dates from 2010 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
- Cheer nationals in February -- the day my daughter sat in my lap after her team was flawless on the mats.
- The trip to Pittsburgh and Philadelphia in July -- one of the best vacations in recent memory.
- December 7, 2010: the day my daughter got her driver's license and earned her independence.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I learned a lot at work. I gained some new skills there that make me more valuable. I learned how to be pretty darned good at sports photography and photoshop. But my biggest achievement is the new, improved and wonderful relationship I have with my 16-year-old daughter. The time we spent together this summer -- and the time we still spend together today? Precious beyond price.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Becoming a slug.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Yes. A bulging disk between L-5 and S-1 that rests not-so-gently on the nerve root. The pain of this is not something you can describe or understand unless you have been there.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
My phone.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
I don't understand this question. I was pretty good this year. :-)

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Or this one. You mean like Lindsay Lohan or Miley Cyrus? Who cares?

14. Where did most of your money go?
That damned mortgage and tutoring (both SAT and chemistry) for the Roo-girl.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Singing with a Dixieland jazz band. LOVE that.

16. What song will always remind you of 2010?
"Happy Birthday, Sweet 16" (gotta love Neil Sedaka) for an obvious reason.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? b) thinner or fatter? c) richer or poorer?
Sadder, fatter, poorer. Can I have a redo???

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Cooking. I have become quite the expert at ordering in instead of doing it myself.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Zoning out in front of the computer. Of course, since I want to get back to blogging more regularly, this is a little contradictory, eh?

20. How did you spend Christmas?
I love our Christmas tradition of going to the movies with all the kids. We usually start months ahead of time debating what movie to see. This year, it took a foot-stamping from the mama to get the kids to take the initiative and come up with a selection. We changed our mind at the box office window, which turned out to be a good decision.

21. Did you fall in love in 2010?
Well, I'm already in love -- with Wonderhubby and, of course, all my kids. So it's not really a fair question.

22. What was your favorite TV program?
It's hard to narrow this down to just one. I'm in love love love with "Dexter," "House" and "Parenthood." There are others I enjoy, but those are the must-not-misses. Oh, and "True Blood" is a guilty pleasure.

23. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
Yes. I'm not proud of it, but I do hate the mean girl who tormented Roo ... and I'm not particularly fond of the mean girl at my own workplace.

24. What was the best book you read?
Hmmm, actually I can't remember which books I read this year and which I read last year. But I adore Joshilyn Jackson's books, "Water for Elephants" and the Sookie Stackhouse series.

25. What was your greatest musical discovery?
I'm a confirmed country music lover. The one who jumped out at me this year was Jerrod Niemann, whose "Lover, Lover" knocks me out every time.

26. What did you want and get?
This.

27. What did you want and not get?
One of these.

28. What was your favorite film of this year?
"The King's Speech" and "Harry Potter."

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I really did have the best birthday this year. My co-workers made it incredibly special with a special "Happy Birthday" sign over my desk and a poem written by a colleague that they all "edited" as if they were doing my job. It doesn't translate well, but it is the most hilarious thing EVER.

Dinner was with my husband, my BFF and her husband -- yummy barbecue. After which I took to my bed with laryngitis and flu and didn't move again for three days.

So yeah, welcome to 58.

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Being pain-free. (Wow, how depressing is THIS??)

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2010?
Ha. I'm a sloppy sweatshirt and jeans girl. I strip off the "business casual" attire of my work day as soon as I walk in the door.

32. What kept you sane?
My best friend -- and a bunch of crazy wonderful fabulous people on Plurk. Without them, I would have exploded. Love you guys ...

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I don't. Although if Hugh Laurie, Toby Keith or Michael C. Hall knocked on my door, I'd be outta here.

34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Gay marriage. Because of this.

35. Who did you miss?
I miss some of the people at newspaper. I was there 29 years, and sometimes I spent more time with them than I did my own family. There are two women in particular whose daily contact I miss the most.

36. Who was the best new person you met?
Some of the new members of our team at work.

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2010.
"This too shall pass."

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
I don't have one that sums up the year, but I do have one that sums up my current happy life with WH:

May 2011 bring you every happiness and good health. After all, without that, what else is there?

'Round and 'round she goes ... where she stops, nobody knows

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Tue, 28 Dec 2010 22:46:00 +0000

*tap tap tap* Is this thing on?

Why, yes, that IS a slightly cliche'ed way to say it's been a long time since I stopped by these here parts.

Where have I been?

Hmmm. I don't know. Just around, I guess.

Since Thanksgiving, I have had a birthday (and a birthday dinner), Hanukkah with the children, our traditional Christmas Day movie with all the kids and "dinner on Christmas" with the parental units.

We've had a major roof leak, leading to a significant part of drywall being removed while we watched water run into our bedroom.

Football season ended and cheer competition season has begun.

I have also had three epidurals to help my hurting, bulging disk, after which I promptly compounded my problem with a graceful fall down a flight of stairs. Giving me a lovely 800-mg-of-ibuprofen-three-times-a-day habit.

Blech.

2010 is flying to an end with a speed that rivals the stealth bomber, leaving me to wonder: Where did this year go? Where is this blog going? Where am I going?

What the heck am I doing?

I actually have stories to tell. My high school reunion. The fun that is our Christmas traditions. The Roo-girl's transition to independence with a driver's license (omigod). I just haven't had the intestinal fortitude to sit and write them.

But I want to -- and wanting is the first step toward doing.

So here's to a fresh start for 2011. A chance to be all that I can be. The first day of the rest of my life.

I'm going to just DO it.

'Tis better to give than to eat yourself into a stupor

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Sat, 27 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

Thanksgiving means many things.

Turkey! Stuffing! My mother's apple and pomegranate salad! Pumpkin pie!

But for my family, Thanksgiving means more than a big meal of delicious food.

For the past 12 years, we have all piled into the car and headed off to a local senior center, where we load the car with turkey dinners and all the trimmings.

We would then drive -- all of us, or as many as could fit -- around town, delivering these meals to homebound seniors.

We began this holiday tradition years ago -- after a terrible time in our lives -- when my kids were having a pity party about how cruelly life had treated them. Yes, we had had to sell our house and move to "lesser" digs. Yes, we had to count our pennies. But also yes, we had a roof over our heads and food on our table and the love of family to keep us warm.

At that time, I sought a project that would remind them how precious life is and how lucky they still were ... and are. A tradition was born.

Which brings us to this year, when I was regrettably late in answering the call at the senior center. So many people have jumped on the volunteer bandwagon that their roster of drivers was full. There was no room for us.

So I consulted the internet to find another appropriate give-and-you-shall-receive project to continue to remind my children that, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, we have much to be grateful for.

And boy, did I find one.

Every year, this one organization collects food, clothing, toiletries, whatever they can get their hands on. They gather in a rather unsavory part of town, where they put together meals; ziplock bags of toothbrushes, soap, shampoo, toothpaste; and bags of shirts, jackets, pants, beanies, whatever else comes their way.

They then load it all into the cars of willing volunteers who drive around the area and offer all of the above to people living on the streets.

This was a memorable experience, let me tell you.

We started out intending to volunteer to pack meals in the assembly line and ended up in the line to receive a load of Thanksgiving meals in our trunk.

Yes, Wonderhubby, the Roo-girl, Z-man, Drummer and I spent several hours driving around in parts of town where I never ever go on purpose, looking for people on the street who might be hungry and in need.

It wasn't as easy as you might think, since there are armies of people setting up tables in parks and on city streets to deliver meals to the homeless. Many of the people we saw were already carrying styrofoam boxes filled with holiday food.

Also, as we drove around, we had to carefully assess who was truly homeless, as opposed to those who just might be truly weird.

"Oh," said Drummer, putting it all in perspective in his inimitable way, "so ... we're profiling."

We laughed out loud after he said that, but actually, we truly were profiling, in a way -- assessing the people we saw based on attire, hair, posture and whether they were pushing a grocery cart filled with "treasure."

The first time we found someone we knew would need what we had to offer, Wonderhubby pulled the car over, and we all looked at each other. No one moved.

"Pffffft," I said, opening my door and getting out of the car.

"Pffffft," said Roo, literally climbing over her brothers to get out of the back seat and out of the car.

The two of us together approached the man with food and toiletries in hand.

"Are you hungry," Roo asked the man. "Would you like some food for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes," the man said, as we reached forward and handed him our wares. "Thank you so much."

"You have a very good Thanksgiving, my friend," said my daughter to the bedraggled man.

"Thank God there are people like you in the world," said the man to my daughter.

Roo and I walked back to the car together and smiled at each other.

We delivered all of our meals. Roo and I did the heavy lifting, but the hours we spent in the car as a family driving around on our quest were as meaningful as the act of charity itself.

Later, we had our own Thanksgiving meal with all the trimmings. But our own full bellies were not nearly as important as the bellies we had filled that morning.

Give me a Y. Give me an A. Give me a Y!

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 15 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

The high school football season is over.

For us, anyway.

Praise the Lord and pass the pom-poms.

Actually, the truth is that I do enjoy my Friday nights with the cheerleaders. As the official team photographer, I have privileges that mere mortals don't have -- a field pass, which brings me up close and personal to my daughter and her teammates.

The past week -- the final game -- was a dismal display on the football field. But those of us on the sidelines enjoyed it thoroughly. Me probably more than most as the girls were funny and loose and more than willing to pose for the camera.

"Janet! Take my picture!"

"Janet! Take a picture of US!"

"Janet! Shoot us. Shoot a juniors-only picture!"

And my favorite ever:

"Mom! Take OUR picture!"

Yes, the Roo-girl was happy to have me there, with my camera clicking away, posing for photo after photo with her buddies.

The stupid smile on my face was legendary.

And then she said it.

"Mom, can you believe it? The next time I cheer at a football game, I'll be a SENIOR!"

Oh.

Oh.

Oh. My. Baby.

If you need me, I'll be over here, curled up in a ball, weeping quietly.

I now pronounce you ... an adult????

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 01 Nov 2010 07:00:00 +0000

When you have children, you spend a lot of time trying to keep them safe.

Most of the time, that means trying to save them from themselves.

"The stove is HOT. Don't touch."

"Careful. You'll poke your eye out with that stick."

"Don't fight with your brother."

It can be taken to extremes, which is how the helicopter mom is born. The child is never allowed to make a decision or a move without the hovering parent.

I'm not that kind of parent. I firmly believe that children need to make mistakes and, therefore, learn from it. Sometimes, they actually have to touch the hot stove to figure it out.

Don't misunderstand me. I do fight battles for my kids. I am their champion and their biggest ally. But sometimes I have to look them right in the eye and say something along the lines of "You made your bed; now lie in it."

My oldest son is ADHD and, as a youngster, always had a tendency to act without considering consequences. Not because he was malicious, but because he couldn't always generalize the rules. You could tell him not to eat the daisies, but that didn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't eat the roses.

And so I used these immortal words, over and over and over and over:

"Stop. Think. Choose."

He reminded me of this the other night at dinner. I was amused at the memory.

I'm no longer amused.

Because in an amazing display of "Act like a moron and then put your head up your butt," my youngest son is at the intersection of "What were you thinking?" and "Are you freakin' kidding me?"

I'm not going to give details, but rest assured he had multiple opportunities to solve a small blunder and repeatedly -- REPEATEDLY -- failed to do so.

His abject stupidity stuns me, and the results are that this small blunder has escalated into something that could destroy his world.

And while I will continue to offer counsel and some of the assistance necessary to attempt to resolve it, it's time for Mr. "I'm 21 -- I'm an adult" to learn to navigate these troubled waters himself.

So today, I find that the best I have to offer is this:

"Wow. It sucks to be a grownup."

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood ...

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Wed, 27 Oct 2010 07:00:00 +0000

Shot with my iPhone through the rainy windshield

I really was hoping for a pot of gold, but I was late for work and had to pass it by.

Adventures at TJ's

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 25 Oct 2010 07:00:00 +0000

The Roo-girl and I have a new passion:

The specialty grocery store known as Trader Joe's.

If you aren't lucky enough to live in one of the nine states where Trader Joe's live, then I pity you.

After all, TJ's is the home of such wondrous treats as Candy Cane Joe-Joe's (something NO household should be without for the holidays) and some incredible peanut butter cups that give Reese's a run for their money.

It's also the home of organic treats and vegetarian and vegan delights.

Roo and I like it there. We are relatively recent converts to the awesomeness of Trader Joe's, but we are fervent in our enthusiasm.

Stopping there after cheer practice is a frequent pleasure.

This weekend, though, we went just because.

The journey started with this question, as Roo scoured the shelves for her favorite honey-roasted snack:

"Where are my nuts???"

And I promptly burst into hysterics ... because I AM a 12-year-old boy, after all.

Things that might have been but are not

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 11 Oct 2010 16:16:00 +0000

I probably looked at the calendar about 20 times this weekend, unable to figure out what was nagging at me about this week.

Sure, I had stuff listed there: high school football games, tutoring, Wonderhubby's birthday, physical therapy appointments, cheer parent meetings.

But that wasn't it.

Something. It was something.

This morning I figured it out.

Today would have been my 18th anniversary, had I stayed married to He Who Shall Not Be Named -- and, of course, had he lived to tell about it.

Eighteen is an auspicious number in the Jewish tradition.

I borrowed this definition from About.com because my feeble attempts to explain it were inadequate:

The word for "life" in Hebrew is "chai." The two Hebrew letters that make up the word "chai" are chet and yud. In Gematria (the numerical value of Hebrew letters), chai is equivalent to 8 and yud is equivalent to 10. So "chai," chet and yud together, equals 18. Giving money in multiples of $18 is symbolic of giving "chai" or life. Many people give money in mulitiples of $18 as presents to someone celebrating a birth, a bar or bat mitzvah or a wedding.

So, on the anniversary of "life," I remember -- but only briefly -- the years of "death."

And then, I sweep those cobwebs back to the trash heap where they belong, and give thanks for my amazing (and patient) husband; my baby girl, who doesn't have to live under that cloud; my boys, who survived the years and love me anyway.

And the life I have. The beautiful, sweet, loving, delightfully boring life that I have.

L'chaim.

He did what??? Where????

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 07:00:00 +0000

There's something about childbirth that forces a woman to forgo all sense of modesty.

After all, there's usually a room full of people all focused on a part of your anatomy that normally isn't on display.

In my case, with the Drama King, there were people with their HANDS in places that they had no business being -- trying to help a 9 pound 2 1/2 ounce baby who wasn't planning on getting out the way he got in.

When the Roo-girl was born, my pediatrician was in the room. He was quite a bit younger than me (a whippersnapper barely out of residency when Drummer and DK were little and we joined his practice), and it never even occurred to me that he had a view of my nether regions that he NEVER would have seen otherwise. I mean, seriously!

But you don't think too much about it. You're having a baby, after all, and that's where babies come from.

So no biggie.

Many many years later, when degeneratively arthritic vertebrae cause pain that isn't restricted to just the back, and one of the answers is physical therapy ...

And you find yourself face-down on a table with your pants pulled down below the crack and a male massage therapist with his hands on your butt ...

Well, the indignity of it all is astounding.

Just sayin'.

Things that make you go ... HUH????

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Tue, 28 Sep 2010 07:00:00 +0000

When you have adult children, there are some ... ahem ... things that you don't want to know.

Like I really don't want to know about my boys' sex lives. I mean I REALLY don't.

It's all better left to the imagination. Or not to be thought about at all.

When you LIVE with adult children, there are things you don't want to find in your laundry basket.

Like ... what the heck is THIS???

Let's get a little closer:

Ok, starting to get a little weirded out. What IS that?

Uh. WHAT???

So. Um. Yeah. Well.

I know what that LOOKED like ... and I wasn't sure I wanted to be touching it. So I approached Z-man's room tentatively.

"Is this yours?" I asked.

"NO!" he said loudly. "EW. What are you saying? God, please go away. No that is NOT mine."

"You know what it looks like, right? You're sure it's not yours?"

"NO NO NO NO NO. Gross."

So I walked away, less sure what I was holding in my hand.

And, as a shot in the dark, I walked to the Roo-girl's room.

"Um," I said hesitantly. "Is this yours?"

"Yeah," she said immediately.

Uh.

"It's my sock!"

Ohhhhhhh... yeah, now I see ... it's one of a pair. Like this:

Whew. I feel so much better.

I think.

If I only had a brain ... or her sense of humor

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 20 Sep 2010 07:00:00 +0000

It's no secret that I've had a few problems with my back and sciatica since the middle of July.

It's certainly no secret among the members of my family, who are treated to a concert of whimpering and complaining and the pleasant visual of watching me hobble around, clearly favoring my left leg.

They alternatingly find me amusing and annoying because -- good golly Miss Molly! -- this has been going on for a looooooooong time already.

And so it was that I attempted to rise from a horizontal position to answer the beck and call of a certain Miss Roo, who needed to be driven somewhere.

Oh, wait, she needed to drive HERSELF somewhere, which, of course, required me in the passenger seat. But I digress.

"Come ON, Mom!" she urged.

"Wait a sec," I said crabbily. "I have to unhinge my joints or something."

She looked at me with a twinkle in her eye and, through clenched teeth, she intoned in her best Tin Man voice:

"Oil can! Oil can!"

She really is hilarious.

Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms

Karma karma karma karma karma chameleon

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 13 Sep 2010 07:00:00 +0000

I believe in karma.

I believe that if I do something to someone, eventually the karma wheel will swing around and smack me upside the head.

I believe this with all my heart -- especially since I have seen it in action time and time again.

That karma wheel. It's the real-deal equalizer, at least in my experience.

Which is why I was a little surprised at myself when I despaired at being able to help the Roo-girl extricate herself from her mean-girl situation.

The usual excitement at the start of a fresh school year had been replaced by panic when she discovered that she and Ms. Mean Girl shared a math class in addition to cheer. We tried to move her schedule around to make it go away, but we were unable to find a solution.

Instead, Roo went to school with her head held high, determined to make it work somehow. She seemed to have the math class situation under control, but cheer? That was another story.

The situation was uncomfortable and showed no signs of solutionalizing itself. (And yes, that is TOO a word!)

Until the first official football game on Friday.

The coach and the adviser caught up with me as I raised my camera to start my job again as official team photographer. "Did you hear?" they asked me.

"Hear what?" I asked.

"Ms. Mean Girl quit the team," I was told.

WHAT?????

It's true. For whatever her reasons, the mean girl has turned in her uniform and removed herself from the squad, leaving Roo breathless with relief.

"Now it's my team, my friends, MY safe haven," she crowed after the game when we talked about it.

And the karma wheel swings around once again.

Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms

May you be inscribed in the Book of Life ...

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 14:24:00 +0000

I posted this last year on Rosh Hashanah and wanted to share it again this year. It's not original -- it came by a friend via email -- and if I could source it, I would because it's brilliant.

May you enjoy your apples and honey

May you find it easy to give and receive

May you know when to surrender, and do so with grace

May you remember that some people's lives are parched dry ...
and be grateful for the abundance in yours

May you find beauty in unexpected places

May you carry your loads with ease amid sweetness

May you learn and teach well

May you move with as much joy and ease as you can

May your home be filled with fresh air and light

May your tense and angry times be short-lived ...

so that you come back quickly to your comfortable ol' self

May you be startled and delighted by new beginnings

May you find your uniqueness

May you play with friends...

and hear beautiful music

May you come to the surface for air when you need it

And may everything that hurts you also be a little funny

Have a wonderful 5771!!

L'shana tova ...
To a good year for us all.

I have a few well-placed words for you, friend

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 07:00:00 +0000

I hurt in ways that I can't even express.

Not heart-hurt, although that never has been far from the surface this summer, what with mean-girl issues on the Roo front.

No, this is actual pain hurt. The kind that doesn't leave you alone no matter which position you sit/stand/lie in.

My sciatic nerve is on fire. It's an aggravation that originally started in my back but now crawls painfully down my left leg. It's also an experience I've had a few times before, but never this bad.

I have gotten relief in the past from swimming and even from the Eastern side of medicine -- acupuncture.

This time? Nothing is doing it. And living in pain on 800 mg of ibuprofen a couple times a day isn't the answer.

So I bit the bullet and actually went to a doctor, who ordered steroids for the inflammation, something a little stronger for the pain and x-rays so we could actually SEE what is going on with my back.

My doctor is a young guy I happen to like a lot. He's easy and approachable.

And we play Words With Friends together.

Words With Friends is an iPhone app for crossword/Scrabble freaks that is very addictive and consumes a fair amount of my phone playtime. I have a lot of games going -- and I have my good days and my bad -- but it is ALWAYS satisfying to whup the young doctor's highly intelligent kiester.

Another side benefit to WWF is the chat feature. It allows players to gloat about a 123-point word, moan about the lack of vowels, or just say hi.

I have occasionally traded conversation with the good doctor, but I try not cross our imaginary line between friendly game rivals and free medical advice.

So I'm just gonna say that I found his method of letting me know the preliminary results of my x-rays to be HILARIOUS:

And if you want to play WWF with me, it's Jsongbird4. Game on.

Like sands through the hour glass

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 30 Aug 2010 07:00:00 +0000

This summer, the Roo-girl has developed a fondness for soap operas -- "General Hospital" in particular.
She finds it hilarious that, in my youth, I also was addicted to the hijinks of the denizens of Port Charles, as well as the folks of Pine Valley's "All My Children."

So Roo has made it her business to re-hook me on her soap, offering play-by-play and background information as we watched several days' work of "GH" reruns on the Soap Network on Sunday.

It's not working particularly, since there's very little of MY "Hospital" characters and plot lines remaining, and all the mob stuff is a little off-topic for a soap, in my opinion.

But it has been yet another opportunity for mother-daughter time, which of course I grab every chance I get.

And so it was that we were watching the Soap Network when some weird commercial/episode'ish thing came on.

It's called "What If" and seems to be a meeting of two characters from two separate ABC soaps -- in this case it was from Blair Cramer of "One Life to Live" and Tad Martin of "All My Children."

I was barely paying attention until the visual and the audio finally clicked in my head.

The Tad Martin dude on the TV screen looked like this:

Excuse me, but this guy? This guy has gray hair.

Now, back when I was young and watched "All My Children," Tad Martin was an orphan who was dumped in Pine Valley and was adopted by the Martin family.

AND HE WAS 10 YEARS OLD.

Can I say it again? This guy has GRAY HAIR!!!!!!

When I told Roo that MY Tad Martin was 10 years old or, at the most, a teenager or young adult, she burst into hysterical laughter.

"Oh. My. GAWD. MOM!!!" she gasped. "Do you feel old now?"

Yep. I totally fart dust.

Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms

The best laid plans ...

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 17:33:00 +0000

Twenty-one years ago, at precisely 10:33 a.m. Pacific Daylight Time, they pulled 8 pounds, 4 ounces of wailing baby boy out of my belly and laid him on my chest.

I took one look in his then-blue eyes and was lost forever in their beauty and depth.

Little did I know -- at that exact moment -- that those eyes would be the bane of his existence.

All I knew -- at that exact moment -- was that he held my heart.

21. How can he be 21?

The 2-year-old who coined the word "ridiclious" and "time a go," still part of family lexicon today.

The 3-year-old who had the first of MANY eye surgeries and followup consults.

The 5-year-old who never let on that he was reading until his kindergarten teacher clued me in.

The 10-year-old who asked for kitchen utensils instead of a GameBoy for Hanukkah.

The 11-year-old who asked me what I would do if he got a scholarship to Harvard (I told him I would dance in the streets).

The same 11-year-old who, when told that oboe players could write their own ticket for college, told me to get ready to start dancing.

The 13-year-old who made my heart burst with pride when he stood in front of our synagogue congregation, read from the Torah and became a man in the eyes of the Jewish community.

The 16-year-old who finally figured out that grades DO matter and started actually DOING his homework.

The 17-year-old who graduated from high school with an acceptance to culinary school.

The 19-year-old who graduated from that culinary school with a degree and came home to me.

The 20-year-old who had a plan to go back to school to finish a degree in nutrition -- and is following through with it.

Today he is 21. Today he planned to party all day and night with his cronies. Today he planned to take his first -- ahem -- LEGAL drink in the state of California.

But he won't.

Because today -- the 21st anniversary of his arrival in this world, in my life, in my heart -- he is running a fever of 101.7.

Who said there isn't a God?

Yep, she's back

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 23 Aug 2010 07:00:00 +0000

We were sitting around on Sunday night ... just Roo, Wonderhubby and me. We were watching a little prime-time television and quietly enjoying each other's company.

It had been another too-short weekend, filled with errands, football picnics, cheer practice, our traditional $1.49 hot-dog-and-soda combo lunch at Costco. The usual.

And I sighed dramatically.

"I don't want to go to work tomorrow."

Roo turned to look at me and shrugged.

"And I don't want to go to cheer tomorrow. But you know," she continued, looking deep into my eyes, "we ALL have to do things we don't want to do ..."

*pregnant pause ...*

And I fell out of my chair laughing.

* * * * * * * * * * * * *

OK, people, if you haven't checked out my post on the Room 704 site, now would be the time. Leave a comment too. That way, I can look like one of the popular kids. Heh heh heh.

Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms

Sometimes, all you need is a little retail therapy

noreply@blogger.com (the planet of janet) — Mon, 16 Aug 2010 07:00:00 +0000

I wish I could say that Roo has had a great summer, filled with friends and excitement.

But the truth is that Roo has mostly spent the summer with me.

In the last couple weeks especially, Roo and I have made multiple let's-get-the-heck-outta-here excursions.

One trip to the mall, where we took in a movie and -- in a moment of spontaneous goofiness -- we each put a second set of holes in our ears.

"This is so cool," Roo said as we left the store, giggling together, with our little list of post-piercing instructions and bottles of antiseptic.

And I had to agree.

The next trip started out less auspiciously.

It was 10:30 at night, and the walls -- and the mean girls -- were closing in on the both of us.

"Can we just go out and drive around?" she asked me.

I looked back at her tear-stained face.

"Let's go to the movies," I said.

"What?" she asked, incredulous.

"Seriously -- let's go. Now."

So we did.

It was a midnight show, and we were literally the only two in the theater. We put our feet up on the seats in front of us, talked out loud, shared popcorn and Sour Patch Kids. And when the credits rolled, my baby was smiling again.

We got home at 2 in the morning. My 6 a.m. alarm was not a welcome sound, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Roo and I have had our moments. When she was 13 and 14, I was ready to sell her to the gypsies.

When she was 14 and 15, she pretty much wished that I would disappear.

Now that she is 16, we have discovered something pretty darned important.

We like each other.

A lot.

Now how cool is THAT?

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Meanwhile, the very cool ladies of Room 704 have published the August edition of their very cool site (cool because -- ahem -- I'm one of them!).

Check out our posts on the theme of "growth."

Especially mine.

Crossposted at Mid-Century Modern Moms