I received this email last month...and I've spent a lot of time pondering it. I found it to be very profound. Here's what the email said:
A group of teachers are having discussion about a standardized test that the students have just taken. The children did not score as high as the teachers had expected.
One teacher said, "I do not understand why they scored so low. I covered everything that was tested." While this conversation is going on a veteran teacher, Mary, was listening intently to the teachers frustration.
What was said next drove home a very important point.
Mary waits for a pause in the teachers conversation and says: "I taught my dog to whistle."
"You taught your dog to whistle?" the teacher replied slightly puzzled, but curious.
"Yes, I taught my dog whistle." Mary replied as she smiled.
"Really? How did you teach you dog to whistle?"
Mary replied " I taught him to whistle. He does not understand how to whistle and I have not heard him do it yet. But I taught him to whistle."
How many times have we done the same thing? We explain how do something, but we just assume that everything is understood. Are we just "teaching our dogs to whistle"?
This email really started me thinking. I think this applies to life on so many levels...for parents, for teachers, for employers, or even for friends. For me, this hits home with regards to my team. I manage supervisors and they manage their reps while I oversee their work.
Life comes so fast and furious sometimes. Directives fly from everywhere. Everyone wants immediate results. There is no time to wait. No ramp up periods. When we get caught up in this and don't focus on training the behaviors...and only focusing on results, we do ourselves and those we're trying to teach an injustice. How can they get to the goal if we don't give them the tools to get there?
Behaviors have to be taught in steps. When someone models the desired behavior, it's important to recognize it and reinforce it through positive feedback and/or reward. And as they get better, we get better...and closer to our goal. And you build behaviors that will last long after you stop coaching to it because it's become a habit. A good habit.
I started wondering, much time do we spend spouting off whatever results we want and blurt a quick "cliff notes" version of how to get there without bothering to explain the whys or hows? And then we're shocked when we fail to attain the goal we set out for. Should we be? Did we not just guarantee ourselves failure?
And do we accept the blame or place it on someone else? Make excuses for our failure to execute? A wise manager of mine once told me about excuses..."I don't allow excuses, and neither should you. Allowing excuses enables your people to be less than what they're capable of. It tells them that you don't believe in them and that mediocre is okay to you because you accepted it from them. When you don't allow for excuses and you truly coach your people, you drive them to be better than they ever dreamed was possible and you achieve even bigger results than you expected."
I took this to heart...and I've found she's right. I watch teams where the manager, the example for the group, makes excuses, and I'm not at all surprised when I see the same behavior in the lower leadership...and reflected all the way down to the line level employees. And when they don't achieve the results they want, they are okay with that. There's no drive, no fire, no sense of pride their team.
I know I can grow, and that if I stop growing, so does my team. And I thought I'd share my most recent part of my growth process. If it opens any eyes the way it did mine, I'm glad.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Friday, December 07, 2007
The Reason For This Season
Christmas has become way too materialistic lately. There, I said it. The sad thing is, we encourage it. So says the lady in retail, you're thinking...right? Here's what I've noticed. Christmas music starts before Halloween these days. Christmas decorations go out to the store shelves in August. And the shame of it all is that by the time Christmas or Hannukah or whatever it is you celebrate comes along, you're sick of the music. And that's just for starters.To combat the un-Christmas feeling, I refuse to listen to Christmas music until after Thanksgiving. I won't put up my holiday decor until at least December. I try to keep things a bit more like they were in my youth. I still decorate both the inside and outside of the house. I still love to back cookies and pass them out to my friends and loved ones. I love bringing out my crafty side...sometimes creating new ornaments the way my mom does for her very unique trees.
I remember growing up I used to look forward to the Thanksgiving weekend. That was when Christmas music would start flowing through the house, we'd decorate the tree, start to bake cookies...maybe go shopping Saturday evening or Sunday afternoon. I don't think I even remember ever making a Christmas list when I was younger.My biggest thrills came from shopping...trying to find gifts for the people I love on limited funds, the anticipation...waiting to see their responses to what I chose..to see if they loved it.
And then there was the carolling...I loved singing Christmas carols.Even after I grew up a bit...my favorite part of the holidays was the tree trimming party in the lobby of Hinsdale Hospital. The volunteers set it up. There was spiced cider, Pepperidge farm cookies, a piano and music. As the tree was being decorated we'd sing carols in the front lobby. It always made it feel so much like Christmas to me. These were some of my favorite memories.
I guess I'm a simple girl at heart. I believe that Christmas is a time for giving. I believe it's a celebration of Christ's birth. I know not everyone believes in God, and that's their call. But I think sometimes you miss out on something when you don't have that belief...because it can give such strength and joy. His birth, then his subsequent death was one of the most unselfish gifts ever given. I try to never lose sight of that...because that, too, gives me comfort and happiness. I guess because my family came at things from a religeous aspect of the season it's absolutely no surprise to anyone that my sister and I were in bunches of holiday pageants. I've added some of my most cherished holiday pictures from my youth to this blog. Oddly enough, all of them happened in Germany. Probably because that's when the whole family was closest. The holidays mean so many things to so many people...some good, some not so good. What does it mean to you? What are some of your best holiday memories? What changes have you noticed from your youth to today?
Friday, November 09, 2007
Picture/Word Association
It's strange...the things that trigger memories long forgotten... Sometimes it's a smell or song or image. Or how someone who's spent such a short time in your life can have such a strong, indellible impact. And yet here I am...living proof at just how true this is.The above picture is of my puppy...on her first Halloween. I found an adorable dinosaur costume...she's got a little cave man on her back. She spent most of the evening either trying to unseat him or eat the costume. But she looked adorable. And I took pictures.
So there I was, putting the pictures on the computer and sending them out to my friends when the avalanche came. It started as a small rumble in the back of my mind, a vague cobweb of history teasing the corners of my mind. And then I lay down to go to sleep and it hit me.
Izzy's costume brought back a funny little memory of my brother, Paul. I lost him way too soon. He was so young. He never saw his third birthday.
This is how I see Paul when I look back. I haven't seen that smile in person in 24 years and yet it still comes to me at random moments, touching a spot in my heart that people rarely have the power to impact. Now the story that caused me to flash back is a simple one. My dad had been transferred from Germany to the Philippines. That's where Paul was born. And he had the softest, most tender heart. He loved everything and everyone. And he was so aware of people's feelings. And he didn't limit his big heart to just people.
In the Philippines, there were certain things that were commonplace based on the island setting and the climate. One of them was lizards climbing on walls everywhere. Paul was a smart baby. Smart and curious. So when he saw a lizard a little more than an inch in diameter, he got curious...and he went to pick it up to get a closer look.
Imagine his surprise when he picked that poor lizard up by the tail and the body separated itself and fell to the floor. My poor, sweet baby brother started crying thinking that he'd killed the lizard. He'd burried his head in my side and cried until I placed my hand under his chin and told him everything was okay and showed him that the lizard had not died, but in fact, had just detached itself from his tail and was scampering away. He got so excited, clapping his hands in pure joy, squatting to watch the lizard take off for safety. He didn't touch the lizard again.
Seeing Izzy dressed up in her lizard brought back that memory and a maelstrom of many more. I only had Paul for two years, but in those two years he made himself a part of me. And no matter how much time has passed, my love for him has stayed strong. And when I worry that I won't remember him, something comes up that brings him to the front of my mind. He'll always be with me. And I'm fortunate enough to have pictures so that when I think I've started to forget what he looks like, I can find a picture and bring his smile back to life, warming my heart.
Twenty four years and I still miss him. Two years was enough to give me a lifetime of love and memories. I'm just grateful for the time I had with him.
I know God's been taking good care of him and Jonathan for my family and me. It gives me something to hope for every day. The family reunion will be amazing.
Monday, October 15, 2007
What It Takes To Get Food Free
I returned to my hotel last night after that painful game...starved, disappointed, and tired. I needed to commiserate with fellow disappointed Cowboy fans, eat some food, maybe have a few drinks. So I went down to the hotel bar, Pitchers. I've been to Pitchers during last year's trip. Their food is average, their service is usually pretty good, and their drinks...well, let's just say they have a premium bar and I don't like doing anything half way.
Kirk ordered our first couple of drinks...Grey Goose and Orange, of course. There was a hell of a lot more Grey Goose than Orange, but we figured, heck, we're gonna be eating soon anyway. So the waitress comes to our table twice...both times missing our order...which is why Kirk went to the bar to pay for his drinks in the first place. It turned out to be a smart move. After he got our second drinks, he managed to finally snag the waitress. We were sitting with several regulars from this trip, and Ronni, the lady who owns Maximum Sports...the company we book our trip through.
We ordered Nachos, a grilled chicken avocado sandwich, and a grilled burger and cheese. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Kirk went back down to the bar to order another couple of drinks. Still no food, but this time he instructed them to take it a little easier on the Grey Goose. After we finished those...all the while trying to contain himself from killing this very fat Pats fan sitting at the table across from us...he asked me to get us another couple. I made the mistake of going around to the other side of the bar to order drinks because I didn't want to get in the way of the waitresses...hoping it would mean we'd get our food soon...we'd now been waiting for nearly an hour.
As I stood there by the bar, I noticed the older gentleman sitting at the bar next to me. He was looking a little frustrated...and holding a $50 in his hand...and being ignored by the female bartender. She was serving people walking up to the side of the bar who had just walked in and completely ignoring the front of the bar. Finally, the lady next to me got her attention for the poor gentleman who told me he'd been waiting for a over a half hour. I thought that the $50 would've grabbed her attention. Wrong. So he placed his drink order, then I placed mine. She came back to tell me they were out of Grey Goose and she could substitute with Belvedere or some other vodka. She came back with vodka on the rocks...and an orange slice on the rim. I had to tell her that the drink required OJ. And she charged me Grey Goose prices...which was about $2 more than Belvedere prices. And I waited about 10-15 minutes for that kind of ineptitude.
I got back to our tables...and still no food. One couple with us were on to their third pitcher of beer. The manager had been called, as had the assistant manager. They re-took our order...and placed it. Although they never said it, we figured out that THIS is the step that our server forgot...and the cause that we waited for our food for over an hour...to the point where Kirk had gotten us another couple of drinks, drank it, got sick of waiting...and afraid he'd start fighting the fat Patriots guy and went to our room.
The manager finally agreed to comp all of our meals...the only thing we needed to pay for was the alcohol...which, fortunately, we'd been doing anyway. Not exactly how I pictured the night ending.
On the upside...I had a dream about Tony Romo...and he knew me by name...:-) I'm one sick Kitty.
Kirk ordered our first couple of drinks...Grey Goose and Orange, of course. There was a hell of a lot more Grey Goose than Orange, but we figured, heck, we're gonna be eating soon anyway. So the waitress comes to our table twice...both times missing our order...which is why Kirk went to the bar to pay for his drinks in the first place. It turned out to be a smart move. After he got our second drinks, he managed to finally snag the waitress. We were sitting with several regulars from this trip, and Ronni, the lady who owns Maximum Sports...the company we book our trip through.
We ordered Nachos, a grilled chicken avocado sandwich, and a grilled burger and cheese. Simple enough, right? Wrong. Kirk went back down to the bar to order another couple of drinks. Still no food, but this time he instructed them to take it a little easier on the Grey Goose. After we finished those...all the while trying to contain himself from killing this very fat Pats fan sitting at the table across from us...he asked me to get us another couple. I made the mistake of going around to the other side of the bar to order drinks because I didn't want to get in the way of the waitresses...hoping it would mean we'd get our food soon...we'd now been waiting for nearly an hour.
As I stood there by the bar, I noticed the older gentleman sitting at the bar next to me. He was looking a little frustrated...and holding a $50 in his hand...and being ignored by the female bartender. She was serving people walking up to the side of the bar who had just walked in and completely ignoring the front of the bar. Finally, the lady next to me got her attention for the poor gentleman who told me he'd been waiting for a over a half hour. I thought that the $50 would've grabbed her attention. Wrong. So he placed his drink order, then I placed mine. She came back to tell me they were out of Grey Goose and she could substitute with Belvedere or some other vodka. She came back with vodka on the rocks...and an orange slice on the rim. I had to tell her that the drink required OJ. And she charged me Grey Goose prices...which was about $2 more than Belvedere prices. And I waited about 10-15 minutes for that kind of ineptitude.
I got back to our tables...and still no food. One couple with us were on to their third pitcher of beer. The manager had been called, as had the assistant manager. They re-took our order...and placed it. Although they never said it, we figured out that THIS is the step that our server forgot...and the cause that we waited for our food for over an hour...to the point where Kirk had gotten us another couple of drinks, drank it, got sick of waiting...and afraid he'd start fighting the fat Patriots guy and went to our room.
The manager finally agreed to comp all of our meals...the only thing we needed to pay for was the alcohol...which, fortunately, we'd been doing anyway. Not exactly how I pictured the night ending.
On the upside...I had a dream about Tony Romo...and he knew me by name...:-) I'm one sick Kitty.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
What The Cowgirls Do
I flirted with a Cowboy. I didn't even think about it as I was doing it. And I amused and entertained him!
I told Aiken Ayodele, one of the Dallas Cowboy's badass linebackers that for all that Tony Romo get's all those comments about his dimples, HE's got a pretty nice one, himself! He smiled, then he laughed. He was charming. DeMarcus Ware and Brady James looked on and got a good chuckle out of it. I've got a feeling they're gonna tease him about it. But that's okay...because when I pointed out that we both have one dimple only, he looked up at me and said that I had another, smaller one, on the other cheek. It was pure entertainment.
My annual visit to my personal Mecca has been very pleasing, indeed. On Friday morning, when we arrived, we rented a car and drove out to meet a real estate agent and look at a few houses. We even found one we liked. It had 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, 2 car garage, a formal dining room as well as a casual one, and an entertainment room along with a formal living room. We will be starting work on our house to prepare it for the market when we get back.
After looking at houses, we checked in, I crashed out in my hotel room...I was a tired Kitty Kat. I'd been up since about 4:30 am. This hotel is pretty sweet because it's the same hotel that the Cowboys players stay in the night before the home games. So the next morning I went to breakfast, then checked in with our tour. After that, as I was standing in line waiting for the shuttle for my stadium tour, I heard someone call my name. I turned around, and it was Darcy from work! It turns out that her husband had surprised her with tickets to the Cowboys/Pats game for their anniversary. He's die hard Cowboys, she's Pats. And he booked his package with the same people.
We toured the stadium. This time the stadium tour included the locker room. I got to get my picture taken sitting at Tony Romo's locker as well as Jason Witten's. I followed that up with a driving tour of the new stadium as it's being built...and got some cool pictures of that as well. I trekked to the Cowboys Outlet store, bought more stuff...then headed back to the hotel. Yesterday afternoon I met Nate Newton, Ed "Too Tall" Jones, and Everson Walls and got their autographs. Nate was cranky when he first got there because he was hungry...LOL! The minute he saw Mickey Spagnola he turned into his normal, charming, funny self. Everson Walls was so classy and sweet. I've always been impressed with the man...since I heard about him giving up his kidney to save the life of his teammate. He didn't even think twice about it.
Later that evening I got to be a part of the Radio Road Show where Mickey interviewed DeMarcus Ware, Nate Newton, and Aiken Ayodele. We also got autographs from DeMarcus, Aiken, and Brady James. I've even got a picture of me with these three guys.
Today, of course, is gonna be the best part. The Cowboys Game!!! I can't wait to go! I have pictures of everything...and look forward to this afternoon. I'll be the girl screaming like crazy...seats around the 10 yard line. This should be an amazing game.
When my trip is over, I'll be posting pictures.
I told Aiken Ayodele, one of the Dallas Cowboy's badass linebackers that for all that Tony Romo get's all those comments about his dimples, HE's got a pretty nice one, himself! He smiled, then he laughed. He was charming. DeMarcus Ware and Brady James looked on and got a good chuckle out of it. I've got a feeling they're gonna tease him about it. But that's okay...because when I pointed out that we both have one dimple only, he looked up at me and said that I had another, smaller one, on the other cheek. It was pure entertainment.
My annual visit to my personal Mecca has been very pleasing, indeed. On Friday morning, when we arrived, we rented a car and drove out to meet a real estate agent and look at a few houses. We even found one we liked. It had 4 bedrooms, 2.5 baths, 2 car garage, a formal dining room as well as a casual one, and an entertainment room along with a formal living room. We will be starting work on our house to prepare it for the market when we get back.
After looking at houses, we checked in, I crashed out in my hotel room...I was a tired Kitty Kat. I'd been up since about 4:30 am. This hotel is pretty sweet because it's the same hotel that the Cowboys players stay in the night before the home games. So the next morning I went to breakfast, then checked in with our tour. After that, as I was standing in line waiting for the shuttle for my stadium tour, I heard someone call my name. I turned around, and it was Darcy from work! It turns out that her husband had surprised her with tickets to the Cowboys/Pats game for their anniversary. He's die hard Cowboys, she's Pats. And he booked his package with the same people.
We toured the stadium. This time the stadium tour included the locker room. I got to get my picture taken sitting at Tony Romo's locker as well as Jason Witten's. I followed that up with a driving tour of the new stadium as it's being built...and got some cool pictures of that as well. I trekked to the Cowboys Outlet store, bought more stuff...then headed back to the hotel. Yesterday afternoon I met Nate Newton, Ed "Too Tall" Jones, and Everson Walls and got their autographs. Nate was cranky when he first got there because he was hungry...LOL! The minute he saw Mickey Spagnola he turned into his normal, charming, funny self. Everson Walls was so classy and sweet. I've always been impressed with the man...since I heard about him giving up his kidney to save the life of his teammate. He didn't even think twice about it.
Later that evening I got to be a part of the Radio Road Show where Mickey interviewed DeMarcus Ware, Nate Newton, and Aiken Ayodele. We also got autographs from DeMarcus, Aiken, and Brady James. I've even got a picture of me with these three guys.
Today, of course, is gonna be the best part. The Cowboys Game!!! I can't wait to go! I have pictures of everything...and look forward to this afternoon. I'll be the girl screaming like crazy...seats around the 10 yard line. This should be an amazing game.
When my trip is over, I'll be posting pictures.
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Blindly Patriotic
I've just got to get this off my chest. Patriot fans drive me nuts. At least the ones I've seen online. They don't appear to know much about the game of football, they think they're always right, they believe their players can do no wrong, and they are always talking smack. I don't deny that they have a strong team. I'd be as obtuse as I'm accusing them of being if I denied that. I'm a diehard Cowboy fan and I'm not blind to our weaknesses. I am also aware that tensions are running high because we play each other in a week, but COME ON!
Why have they raised my ire? Because they can never just give another team credit for the things they're doing right. Their coach has been less than innocent this year with the charges of cheating through recording hand signals of their opposing team's defenses. And yet somehow he's come out pure as the driven snow. According to several Patriot fans, he got caught cheating on purpose in order to draw attention to the interpretation of the "no recording opposing teams from the sidelines during the game" rule so that it could be readdressed by committee and possibly be thrown out. Right. Lame excuse. I highly doubt he EVER meant to get caught. And how did the NFL commissioner penalize him? Oh, that's right, a small monetary fine to him and his team and the loss of 1 of 2 first round draft pics...and the one that they're taking away is the lesser one. Oh, yeah. Way to be firm. @@.
Then there's the whole "Nanny, Nanny, boo, boo!" game they play with how much better their team is than everyone else. Apparently New England has NO Kryptonite. One person claimed that they will beat the world because not only do they have Tom Brady, who, admittedly, is excellent at what he does, but their defense can stop any team in the NFL and that they've scored over 30 points every game. When it was pointed out that the Cowboys have actually scored over 30 points a game as well...and against better ranked defenses, the response given was..."Well, that's probably because we annihilated them when Tom Brady kicked their butts all over the place." At that point, someone came along and explained things. Defense rankings go by how many points average you allow. Has nothing to do with just 1 team. And the teams the Cowboys play have actually given up less points. His comeback? "Cowboys suck." So mature.
Next was the statement "Romo is a choke artist. Brady is GOD!" Wow! Really? At that point an impartial party came in and stated..."I'm not a Cowboy fan, but you really can't call Romo a choke artist." He then sited last week's game against the Rams. Romo had a ball snapped over his head and back 15 yards. He managed to get the ball and ran it himself, converting the 15 yard loss into a new first down. He pointed out that if Romo were a choke artist he would have simply fallen on the ball or slid. Romo is a very good football player. His response to this was to site the fact that Brady has scored over 30 points per game. Someone else pointed out that Romo had, too. His next response was "Well, Brady would have more points except that he's been spending the last 5 minutes of every 4th quarter kneeling on the ball because they've been beating everyone so badly." I don't know what games HE's been watching, but the exact opposite is true. Last week they were killing Cinci and yet he had to throw a TD to Moss to pad their stats. This week is no different.
Did you guys know that Randy Moss is the second coming? And that only New England has the ability to take players with "trouble maker" tags and turn them productive? Apparently Randy Moss has seen the light and become a new man! The press has even bought into this new image. And yet everyone is still waiting for T.O. to implode the Cowboys because apparently, that's what he does. Let's really compare stats, shall we?
T.O.-reportedly destroyed the Eagles with the feud between him and McNabb (incidentally, it's McNabb who's all over the press starting trouble these days while T.O. has been unusually silent). He was also blamed for locker room issues in the 49ers. He never stopped producing. During his tenure with the 49ers, he still helped them get to the play offs. While in Philly, he helped them get to the Superbowl.
Moss-Caused problems in Minnesota's locker room by demanding a trade because he wasn't happy with the QB, etc. He also started dogging it...not giving it his all, trying to force the trade. And when he was picked up by the Raiders, he did the same thing. So when he's not happy with his team, he demands a trade AND stops performing...kinda like a petulant child.
T.O.-Loudmouthed, Trash talker, but with no history of trouble with the law.
Moss-Loudmouthed, Trash talker. Has been charged with marijuana use, drunk driving...and my personal favorite...dragging the poor officer who was trying to arrest him half a block with his car. Yeah, that's classy.
Thanks, I'll keep T.O. He may be a loud mouth and a trash talker, but at least I know he'll perform as long as he's on my team...and his disruptive behavior does not include brushes with the law. But Moss is the new darling. Oh, brother.
Finally, New England will go undefeated. There is NO TEAM in the NFL that can beat them. Isn't it a bit early to be saying this? Any team can have an off week. And so far, they've been playing easy teams. They ARE playing the Colts, the Steelers, the Cowboys, and the Ravens. With a schedule like that, there are NO GUARANTEES. Once they start playing the tougher teams, THEN they will have the right to discuss going undefeated.
Yeah, they're a great team. I don't deny that. I just can't stand their fans. I've heard of "Homers", Michael Irvin was one for the Cowboys. But I think these guys have taken a few too many hits from the peace pipe! My favorite memory of the Patriots happened back in January of '86...at the superbowl game against the Chicago Bears. :-)
Why have they raised my ire? Because they can never just give another team credit for the things they're doing right. Their coach has been less than innocent this year with the charges of cheating through recording hand signals of their opposing team's defenses. And yet somehow he's come out pure as the driven snow. According to several Patriot fans, he got caught cheating on purpose in order to draw attention to the interpretation of the "no recording opposing teams from the sidelines during the game" rule so that it could be readdressed by committee and possibly be thrown out. Right. Lame excuse. I highly doubt he EVER meant to get caught. And how did the NFL commissioner penalize him? Oh, that's right, a small monetary fine to him and his team and the loss of 1 of 2 first round draft pics...and the one that they're taking away is the lesser one. Oh, yeah. Way to be firm. @@.
Then there's the whole "Nanny, Nanny, boo, boo!" game they play with how much better their team is than everyone else. Apparently New England has NO Kryptonite. One person claimed that they will beat the world because not only do they have Tom Brady, who, admittedly, is excellent at what he does, but their defense can stop any team in the NFL and that they've scored over 30 points every game. When it was pointed out that the Cowboys have actually scored over 30 points a game as well...and against better ranked defenses, the response given was..."Well, that's probably because we annihilated them when Tom Brady kicked their butts all over the place." At that point, someone came along and explained things. Defense rankings go by how many points average you allow. Has nothing to do with just 1 team. And the teams the Cowboys play have actually given up less points. His comeback? "Cowboys suck." So mature.
Next was the statement "Romo is a choke artist. Brady is GOD!" Wow! Really? At that point an impartial party came in and stated..."I'm not a Cowboy fan, but you really can't call Romo a choke artist." He then sited last week's game against the Rams. Romo had a ball snapped over his head and back 15 yards. He managed to get the ball and ran it himself, converting the 15 yard loss into a new first down. He pointed out that if Romo were a choke artist he would have simply fallen on the ball or slid. Romo is a very good football player. His response to this was to site the fact that Brady has scored over 30 points per game. Someone else pointed out that Romo had, too. His next response was "Well, Brady would have more points except that he's been spending the last 5 minutes of every 4th quarter kneeling on the ball because they've been beating everyone so badly." I don't know what games HE's been watching, but the exact opposite is true. Last week they were killing Cinci and yet he had to throw a TD to Moss to pad their stats. This week is no different.
Did you guys know that Randy Moss is the second coming? And that only New England has the ability to take players with "trouble maker" tags and turn them productive? Apparently Randy Moss has seen the light and become a new man! The press has even bought into this new image. And yet everyone is still waiting for T.O. to implode the Cowboys because apparently, that's what he does. Let's really compare stats, shall we?
T.O.-reportedly destroyed the Eagles with the feud between him and McNabb (incidentally, it's McNabb who's all over the press starting trouble these days while T.O. has been unusually silent). He was also blamed for locker room issues in the 49ers. He never stopped producing. During his tenure with the 49ers, he still helped them get to the play offs. While in Philly, he helped them get to the Superbowl.
Moss-Caused problems in Minnesota's locker room by demanding a trade because he wasn't happy with the QB, etc. He also started dogging it...not giving it his all, trying to force the trade. And when he was picked up by the Raiders, he did the same thing. So when he's not happy with his team, he demands a trade AND stops performing...kinda like a petulant child.
T.O.-Loudmouthed, Trash talker, but with no history of trouble with the law.
Moss-Loudmouthed, Trash talker. Has been charged with marijuana use, drunk driving...and my personal favorite...dragging the poor officer who was trying to arrest him half a block with his car. Yeah, that's classy.
Thanks, I'll keep T.O. He may be a loud mouth and a trash talker, but at least I know he'll perform as long as he's on my team...and his disruptive behavior does not include brushes with the law. But Moss is the new darling. Oh, brother.
Finally, New England will go undefeated. There is NO TEAM in the NFL that can beat them. Isn't it a bit early to be saying this? Any team can have an off week. And so far, they've been playing easy teams. They ARE playing the Colts, the Steelers, the Cowboys, and the Ravens. With a schedule like that, there are NO GUARANTEES. Once they start playing the tougher teams, THEN they will have the right to discuss going undefeated.
Yeah, they're a great team. I don't deny that. I just can't stand their fans. I've heard of "Homers", Michael Irvin was one for the Cowboys. But I think these guys have taken a few too many hits from the peace pipe! My favorite memory of the Patriots happened back in January of '86...at the superbowl game against the Chicago Bears. :-)
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Lessons Learned
I wrote this for a game of story tag I'm playing on another site & thought I'd post it here-
I've always prided myself on being able to read people well, and overall, I've been pretty successful. But every once in a while...
It all began the summer before my freshman year of college. A close friend of mine from high school called me to talk. She confided in me that her father had hit her. A couple months later I would find out she lied, but at the time, I got very concerned. I went to my mom and asked her if my friend could stay with us and told her the circumstances. She said ok, and I told my friend to come stay with me. She had several bruises and she'd voiced some concerns about her younger sister, so I advised her to get herself checked out at the local family medical clinic and to ask that they take pictures of the bruises in order to have a legal record of the events. I paid for her check up.
Anyway, I really liked and trusted this girl. Ironically enough, earlier that summer she and her boyfriend decided to play a prank on me. He called claiming to be my secret admirer (she was feeding him information about me) and flirted with me. When she got uncomfortable with his familiarity they told me the truth. Later he called me again and stopped by my house to introduce himself. I wasn't all that impressed. I wasn't sure if she was in the know, so I told her.
When time for school came, she didn't have enough money for books and so I paid for them for her. We also let her use my car and my sister's car and treated her like family. I would loan her money for gas or books when needed, she was welcome to our toiletries and our refrigerator.
And then strange things started happening. $10 here, $20 there started disappearing. I thought at first that maybe I'd misplaced my money...and then my little sister started reporting money missing, too. And my friend wasn't spending the night very much anymore...she'd take my car or my sister's (without permission) and she'd go to her boyfriend's house and we wouldn't see her till the next morning.
One day my sister came home and asked us to stay away from her vehicle. She was having problems with it and couldn't drive it, so she hadn't renewed her insurance on it yet. Because of the laws in IL, she didn't want us on the road driving an uninsured car.
And then my mom came home and asked my friend to spend the day with her. They stopped off at the bank, she cashed her check and asked the bank to give her most of her money back in $100 bills. She counted it out and then put it back in the money envelope from the bank and slid it into her purse. After that, she took my pal to the arboretum and then out to lunch. Afterward she came home and dozed off on the sofa. When she woke up, my friend was gone. She counted her money, she was a couple hundred dollars short. My friend had waited till my mom had fallen asleep, then stole the money right out of my mom's purse.
We wondered if maybe her boyfriend had picked her up until we went to the parking garage and found my sister's car missing. This girl had made a copy of my sister's car keys, stolen money out of my mom's wallet, and had been systematically stealing from me for a couple of months...and now, to add insult to injury, she'd stolen my sister's car!
So we called the police and reported it stolen. And then I called her cousin who worked with us. I told her what had happened and asked her about her young cousin. It turned out that the boyfriend she'd been dating had been the cause of most of this crap. The bruises she'd had when she'd moved in? Her boyfriend did that. Apparently her parents had figured out he was bad news and had forbidden her to see him...especially in their house (they'd had sex on the hood of the car across the street from the house & had sex IN the house while she'd been babysitting her younger sister). The money she'd stolen? She'd used to either get gas to see him or to buy him things. The parents never fought to make her come back home because she'd become toxic since dating him...and they still had 2 young kids at home and were terrified of the lies she'd tell...and that it might get the other two taken away. As for the boyfriend? Apparently after I'd told her that he'd met with me after the prank, he convinced her that I'd thrown myself at him and that I wanted him and was jealous of her.
After talking to her family we gave her two options...go home or move in with her cousin's family. She was no longer welcome in ours. We also told her that she was lucky she showed up when she did because if the police had caught her on the road driving my sister's car, she would've been in jail, charged with grand theft auto...and then we called the police to cancel our report.
No matter how well you THINK you know someone, you have no idea who they truly are till you live with them. I could tell you more about what happened once she moved in with her cousin...it was all brutal...but instead I'm just gonna say that Happily, I heard about 10 years ago that not only did she finally wise up and get rid of the boyfriend eventually, but she worked to make amends with her family, met a good man and got her life back together and got married. I'm happy for her, but now I'm also more cautious.
I've always prided myself on being able to read people well, and overall, I've been pretty successful. But every once in a while...
It all began the summer before my freshman year of college. A close friend of mine from high school called me to talk. She confided in me that her father had hit her. A couple months later I would find out she lied, but at the time, I got very concerned. I went to my mom and asked her if my friend could stay with us and told her the circumstances. She said ok, and I told my friend to come stay with me. She had several bruises and she'd voiced some concerns about her younger sister, so I advised her to get herself checked out at the local family medical clinic and to ask that they take pictures of the bruises in order to have a legal record of the events. I paid for her check up.
Anyway, I really liked and trusted this girl. Ironically enough, earlier that summer she and her boyfriend decided to play a prank on me. He called claiming to be my secret admirer (she was feeding him information about me) and flirted with me. When she got uncomfortable with his familiarity they told me the truth. Later he called me again and stopped by my house to introduce himself. I wasn't all that impressed. I wasn't sure if she was in the know, so I told her.
When time for school came, she didn't have enough money for books and so I paid for them for her. We also let her use my car and my sister's car and treated her like family. I would loan her money for gas or books when needed, she was welcome to our toiletries and our refrigerator.
And then strange things started happening. $10 here, $20 there started disappearing. I thought at first that maybe I'd misplaced my money...and then my little sister started reporting money missing, too. And my friend wasn't spending the night very much anymore...she'd take my car or my sister's (without permission) and she'd go to her boyfriend's house and we wouldn't see her till the next morning.
One day my sister came home and asked us to stay away from her vehicle. She was having problems with it and couldn't drive it, so she hadn't renewed her insurance on it yet. Because of the laws in IL, she didn't want us on the road driving an uninsured car.
And then my mom came home and asked my friend to spend the day with her. They stopped off at the bank, she cashed her check and asked the bank to give her most of her money back in $100 bills. She counted it out and then put it back in the money envelope from the bank and slid it into her purse. After that, she took my pal to the arboretum and then out to lunch. Afterward she came home and dozed off on the sofa. When she woke up, my friend was gone. She counted her money, she was a couple hundred dollars short. My friend had waited till my mom had fallen asleep, then stole the money right out of my mom's purse.
We wondered if maybe her boyfriend had picked her up until we went to the parking garage and found my sister's car missing. This girl had made a copy of my sister's car keys, stolen money out of my mom's wallet, and had been systematically stealing from me for a couple of months...and now, to add insult to injury, she'd stolen my sister's car!
So we called the police and reported it stolen. And then I called her cousin who worked with us. I told her what had happened and asked her about her young cousin. It turned out that the boyfriend she'd been dating had been the cause of most of this crap. The bruises she'd had when she'd moved in? Her boyfriend did that. Apparently her parents had figured out he was bad news and had forbidden her to see him...especially in their house (they'd had sex on the hood of the car across the street from the house & had sex IN the house while she'd been babysitting her younger sister). The money she'd stolen? She'd used to either get gas to see him or to buy him things. The parents never fought to make her come back home because she'd become toxic since dating him...and they still had 2 young kids at home and were terrified of the lies she'd tell...and that it might get the other two taken away. As for the boyfriend? Apparently after I'd told her that he'd met with me after the prank, he convinced her that I'd thrown myself at him and that I wanted him and was jealous of her.
After talking to her family we gave her two options...go home or move in with her cousin's family. She was no longer welcome in ours. We also told her that she was lucky she showed up when she did because if the police had caught her on the road driving my sister's car, she would've been in jail, charged with grand theft auto...and then we called the police to cancel our report.
No matter how well you THINK you know someone, you have no idea who they truly are till you live with them. I could tell you more about what happened once she moved in with her cousin...it was all brutal...but instead I'm just gonna say that Happily, I heard about 10 years ago that not only did she finally wise up and get rid of the boyfriend eventually, but she worked to make amends with her family, met a good man and got her life back together and got married. I'm happy for her, but now I'm also more cautious.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Mothers & Daughters
I'm the oldest child in a family with a very old world, old school mother--think Joy Luck Club. To understand this story you'd need to know a bit about my mom. My mom is not only old school Asian from the old country...she also married my dad at 17 and had me at 19...so she's not exactly the most worldly of souls...and she's pretty religeous. If you know anything about how Asian families work, you know that all responsibilities lie on the oldest child's shoulders...as does all blame. And you're guilty till proven innocent.
Now those of you who know me know that my dad is actually very Anglo...however, my dad wasn't around much...especially not for my teenage years. I won't lie and say I wasn't a bit of a hellion teenager...though I kept my carrousing to boys...but since my mom married young, she had some concerns about my exuberant nature. I admit...I was kryptonite for more than my share back in the day...(some even fondly nicknamed me "jailbait")...but I was mostly a tease...Yeah, I can admit it now that I'm all grown up.
So anyway, one day, I'm getting ready for school when my mother's voice blasts me hard, screaming at me about my sexual activity and how sinful my behavior was and how I'd better repent. She was yelling about my "birth control pills" and wanted to know how and where I'd got them. I was confused as hell. I wasn't ON birth control and had NO idea what in Hades she was talking about. I kept trying to ask, but asking only made her angrier...which meant her volume got louder and her screaming became incoherent.
My little sister sauntered out of our shared bedroom to see what the ruckus was about... Even SHE was shaking her head...and then it all came together.
Sis: Where did you find this birth control?
Mom: In the bathroom, just sitting on the counter!
Sis: Was it wrapped in a metal foil square with about 6 to a sheet?
Mom: Yes!
Sis: MOM! That's my cleaning enzyme for my contact lenses!!!
Mom (looking sheepishly at me): Well? How was I supposed to know! You're always flirting with boys.
Me: You know, you could at least apologize.
Mom: Go to school.
And then about a year or so later my mom comes up to me and tells me that she doesn't want me hanging out with one of my girl friends anymore because she thinks that she's a bad influence. Considering how wholesome and clean cut this girl was in high school, I was confused, so I asked why. "Because she's influenced you to use marijuana!!!" my mom explodes.I looked at my mom like she'd lost her mind and told her that I'd never USED marijuana. I could see by the look on her face that she didn't believe me, so I started thinking...what on earth could have made her think I was on pot? And then I realized...and started laughing hysterically.Mom: It's not funny! Drugs are bad for you!
Me: I know, Mom. Were the "drugs" you found wrapped up in plastic wrap and sitting on the ironing board in your bedroom?
Mom: Yes!
Me: Mom, that wasn't marijuana...that was Catnip!!! Couldn't you tell by the smell?
Mom: OH!!! (like she understood everything now) Well I've never been around marijuana, so I don't know how it smells. What's catnip?
Me: It's this stuff that you give cats and it makes them all hyper. Brad White gave it to me as part of my Valentine's Day gift. Did you honestly think I'd be stupid enough to leave drugs on YOUR irnoing board in YOUR bed room? Come on, Mom. I'm at LEAST smarter than THAT!
Mom: Oh. (and just like that she walked away)
Brad, the boy I'd been dating at the time, had given me two red roses for the two weeks we'd been dating, a card, a mix-tape he'd made where he'd also dictated why each song made him think of me before he'd play the song...AND, thinking he was clever...he bought me a box of catnip as a play on my names...because it makes "Kats go crazy." Ha-ha! There was only one little ball to put catnip in, so I'd wrapped the remaining catnip in plastic wrap so that it wouldn't spill everywhere and make a mess...and I'd forgotten it on my mom's ironing board.
I guess it couldn't be easy, being a single mom to a daughter prone to being an incorrigible flirt, especially since she'd never really experienced much of life. I've got to give her credit, though... She tried. Poor thing, I think she spent my teenage years terrified of what could happen next.
Now those of you who know me know that my dad is actually very Anglo...however, my dad wasn't around much...especially not for my teenage years. I won't lie and say I wasn't a bit of a hellion teenager...though I kept my carrousing to boys...but since my mom married young, she had some concerns about my exuberant nature. I admit...I was kryptonite for more than my share back in the day...(some even fondly nicknamed me "jailbait")...but I was mostly a tease...Yeah, I can admit it now that I'm all grown up.
So anyway, one day, I'm getting ready for school when my mother's voice blasts me hard, screaming at me about my sexual activity and how sinful my behavior was and how I'd better repent. She was yelling about my "birth control pills" and wanted to know how and where I'd got them. I was confused as hell. I wasn't ON birth control and had NO idea what in Hades she was talking about. I kept trying to ask, but asking only made her angrier...which meant her volume got louder and her screaming became incoherent.
My little sister sauntered out of our shared bedroom to see what the ruckus was about... Even SHE was shaking her head...and then it all came together.
Sis: Where did you find this birth control?
Mom: In the bathroom, just sitting on the counter!
Sis: Was it wrapped in a metal foil square with about 6 to a sheet?
Mom: Yes!
Sis: MOM! That's my cleaning enzyme for my contact lenses!!!
Mom (looking sheepishly at me): Well? How was I supposed to know! You're always flirting with boys.
Me: You know, you could at least apologize.
Mom: Go to school.
And then about a year or so later my mom comes up to me and tells me that she doesn't want me hanging out with one of my girl friends anymore because she thinks that she's a bad influence. Considering how wholesome and clean cut this girl was in high school, I was confused, so I asked why. "Because she's influenced you to use marijuana!!!" my mom explodes.I looked at my mom like she'd lost her mind and told her that I'd never USED marijuana. I could see by the look on her face that she didn't believe me, so I started thinking...what on earth could have made her think I was on pot? And then I realized...and started laughing hysterically.Mom: It's not funny! Drugs are bad for you!
Me: I know, Mom. Were the "drugs" you found wrapped up in plastic wrap and sitting on the ironing board in your bedroom?
Mom: Yes!
Me: Mom, that wasn't marijuana...that was Catnip!!! Couldn't you tell by the smell?
Mom: OH!!! (like she understood everything now) Well I've never been around marijuana, so I don't know how it smells. What's catnip?
Me: It's this stuff that you give cats and it makes them all hyper. Brad White gave it to me as part of my Valentine's Day gift. Did you honestly think I'd be stupid enough to leave drugs on YOUR irnoing board in YOUR bed room? Come on, Mom. I'm at LEAST smarter than THAT!
Mom: Oh. (and just like that she walked away)
Brad, the boy I'd been dating at the time, had given me two red roses for the two weeks we'd been dating, a card, a mix-tape he'd made where he'd also dictated why each song made him think of me before he'd play the song...AND, thinking he was clever...he bought me a box of catnip as a play on my names...because it makes "Kats go crazy." Ha-ha! There was only one little ball to put catnip in, so I'd wrapped the remaining catnip in plastic wrap so that it wouldn't spill everywhere and make a mess...and I'd forgotten it on my mom's ironing board.
I guess it couldn't be easy, being a single mom to a daughter prone to being an incorrigible flirt, especially since she'd never really experienced much of life. I've got to give her credit, though... She tried. Poor thing, I think she spent my teenage years terrified of what could happen next.
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
The Man WE Called Elvis
This is probably one of the only pictures of Uncle Don I have, but it says it all. There he is, walking his best girl (next to her mom) down the aisle as she gets ready to get married. You can all but see the pride on his face as he looks at her...to him, she's perfect, just the way she is. I imagine he's also whispering words of humor and encouragement, because that's also who he was. He loved us all with all his heart...and we always knew it. He just had that way about him.
As children we all called him Uncle Elvis. He wore his "greaser" 'do with pride...and that never changed...only his hair color. He had a way of setting each of us kids at ease...which is no small feat considering that there were 18 of us...all with very strong, very different personalities. There was NO question in our clan that we were all pretty rowdy, outspoken, unruly bunch...especially when we got together. But he always took it in stride...always with a smart alleck comment, a hair pull...something to let us know that each of us was special and unique.
As a child of a broken home, I used to watch his relationship with Aunt Carol (and Uncle Steve's with Aunt Julie) and hope that I'd be lucky enough to find someone who loved me like that. Last fall when my grandma died, these feelings were cemented...by some old home videos that they'd had digitally transferred onto DVD. It showed them in high school...and later... I saw the way Uncle Don looked at Aunt Carol as they prepared to leave for the prom...like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. I watched him steal a kiss from her during the holidays as gifts were being handed out and exchanged... And I realized...It's a love like that...one that's stood the test of time...one that's just bone deep...one that simply IS... THAT's what I want.
Everyone was blessed to have Uncle "Elvis" in their lives. The cousins from the "divorced" side of the family never felt like "misfits" when he was around. We just somehow knew we'd be okay...and that he knew it too. Honestly, sometimes I think he spent a little extra time with us just to make sure we knew just how much a part of the family WE were...no matter how screwed up our parents' relationships were. Honestly, even now, I think the best move Aunt Carol ever made was marrying him and making him a member of our family. I couldn't have asked for a better uncle.
It's gonna be tough without him. I can only imagine how Aunt Carol, Amy, Donnie, and Barry feel...I mean, Aunt Carol has had him there for over 45 years... I really HATE Cancer.
As children we all called him Uncle Elvis. He wore his "greaser" 'do with pride...and that never changed...only his hair color. He had a way of setting each of us kids at ease...which is no small feat considering that there were 18 of us...all with very strong, very different personalities. There was NO question in our clan that we were all pretty rowdy, outspoken, unruly bunch...especially when we got together. But he always took it in stride...always with a smart alleck comment, a hair pull...something to let us know that each of us was special and unique.
As a child of a broken home, I used to watch his relationship with Aunt Carol (and Uncle Steve's with Aunt Julie) and hope that I'd be lucky enough to find someone who loved me like that. Last fall when my grandma died, these feelings were cemented...by some old home videos that they'd had digitally transferred onto DVD. It showed them in high school...and later... I saw the way Uncle Don looked at Aunt Carol as they prepared to leave for the prom...like she was the most beautiful girl in the world. I watched him steal a kiss from her during the holidays as gifts were being handed out and exchanged... And I realized...It's a love like that...one that's stood the test of time...one that's just bone deep...one that simply IS... THAT's what I want.
Everyone was blessed to have Uncle "Elvis" in their lives. The cousins from the "divorced" side of the family never felt like "misfits" when he was around. We just somehow knew we'd be okay...and that he knew it too. Honestly, sometimes I think he spent a little extra time with us just to make sure we knew just how much a part of the family WE were...no matter how screwed up our parents' relationships were. Honestly, even now, I think the best move Aunt Carol ever made was marrying him and making him a member of our family. I couldn't have asked for a better uncle.
It's gonna be tough without him. I can only imagine how Aunt Carol, Amy, Donnie, and Barry feel...I mean, Aunt Carol has had him there for over 45 years... I really HATE Cancer.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Simple Faith
I turn 34 in 7 days. Back when I was about 27-28, the thought would've terrified me. I would've been concerned, wondering why my life plan is so off course... I mean, 34 and still unmarried, no prospects, and no kids? How could this be? The biggest flirt of my junior high and high school class...still single?
But times have changed. I've changed. I can't count how many times in the last 5 years I've had people misguidedly accuse me of being afraid of committment. The truth is I'm not. With the right person. I just haven't met him yet....or maybe I did...a long time ago, but I wasn't ready for it at that time...and neither was he. And it's not as though I've never been hurt or heartbroken or disappointed. I've been devastated by love that hasn't lasted. Hurt by men who either wanted to change me or who dated me, then realized they wanted someone else or something else. And yet here I am...
The funniest part is that what people tend to read as fear of committment is actually something much more surprising. Despite everything, all my disappointment, my heart break, breaking other people's hearts...I've somehow managed to hold on to my idealism. I still believe in true love. How that happened, I have no idea, but there it is. And I'm not talking about that head-in-the-clounds, dreamy eyed love that most of us girls dreamed of in high school and younger...
Why do I call myself a romantic? Because I still believe that it's possible to find a guy who will listen to me, who loves me as I am, a man who knows I can fight my own battles, but is always in my corner for moral support or back up if I ask for it. Someone who's not intimidated by my intelligence or my successes, but cheers me on and has his own. I believe I should be the most important woman in his life, though not necessarily the only one...(and I'm talking friends, family, etc.) I want a man who will stand up to me as quickly as he'd stand up for me, who supports my dreams as much as I support his. Someone who can make me laugh, who can hold me if I cry, and is not afraid to share his own laughter and tears, but trusts me enough to realize it won't make him any more or less a man in my eyes. Someone who still believes that marriage is a lifetime committment that takes a lot of hard work and won't take easy outs just because things get tough. More importantly, someone with common interests who also has plenty of interests that we don't have in common and isn't afraid to do those things without me...and with his friends...and will afford me the same kinds of freedoms.
How is it I haven't yet given up on this man? I don't expect perfection...just someone who shares the same general values and who will make a good parent if we were lucky enough to have children...but is smart enough not to lose ourselves in the lives we build...or allow the children we may have to define the people we are. And through it all...I want a man who will recognize when I need my man, not my husband.... I think that's why, though I'm not married...Andy Griggs' song is one of the sexiest songs I know....and is something I hope for one day.
Tonight I Wanna Be Your Man
Baby light a couple candles
Lock the bedroom door
Put on some sweet soul music
Throw a blanket on the floor
Surrender to my patient hands
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
It hit me just this morning
When I passed you in the hall
I swear I caught you looking
Like you don't know me at all
Let me show you who I am
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
I'll always be your cover when your cold
When the world lines up against you
I'm the safe place you can go
Now and then we need to find some time to be in love
Just be in loveNow the whole world's in bed sleeping
I think we're finally alone
If the telephone starts ringing
We'll pretend like we're not home
Cause any fool would understand
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
Let me show you who I am
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna your man
Just forget about that wedding band
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
And you know what? One day, when I least expect it, someone is going to manage to sneak up on me...and I'll finally take that plunge... Once I know he's the right man to for my heart. And I truly believe my heart will know him. Okay, go ahead and laugh now...I know. 34, single...and oddly idealistic. Who'd have thought? After everything, I still believe in a forever kind of love!
But times have changed. I've changed. I can't count how many times in the last 5 years I've had people misguidedly accuse me of being afraid of committment. The truth is I'm not. With the right person. I just haven't met him yet....or maybe I did...a long time ago, but I wasn't ready for it at that time...and neither was he. And it's not as though I've never been hurt or heartbroken or disappointed. I've been devastated by love that hasn't lasted. Hurt by men who either wanted to change me or who dated me, then realized they wanted someone else or something else. And yet here I am...
The funniest part is that what people tend to read as fear of committment is actually something much more surprising. Despite everything, all my disappointment, my heart break, breaking other people's hearts...I've somehow managed to hold on to my idealism. I still believe in true love. How that happened, I have no idea, but there it is. And I'm not talking about that head-in-the-clounds, dreamy eyed love that most of us girls dreamed of in high school and younger...
Why do I call myself a romantic? Because I still believe that it's possible to find a guy who will listen to me, who loves me as I am, a man who knows I can fight my own battles, but is always in my corner for moral support or back up if I ask for it. Someone who's not intimidated by my intelligence or my successes, but cheers me on and has his own. I believe I should be the most important woman in his life, though not necessarily the only one...(and I'm talking friends, family, etc.) I want a man who will stand up to me as quickly as he'd stand up for me, who supports my dreams as much as I support his. Someone who can make me laugh, who can hold me if I cry, and is not afraid to share his own laughter and tears, but trusts me enough to realize it won't make him any more or less a man in my eyes. Someone who still believes that marriage is a lifetime committment that takes a lot of hard work and won't take easy outs just because things get tough. More importantly, someone with common interests who also has plenty of interests that we don't have in common and isn't afraid to do those things without me...and with his friends...and will afford me the same kinds of freedoms.
How is it I haven't yet given up on this man? I don't expect perfection...just someone who shares the same general values and who will make a good parent if we were lucky enough to have children...but is smart enough not to lose ourselves in the lives we build...or allow the children we may have to define the people we are. And through it all...I want a man who will recognize when I need my man, not my husband.... I think that's why, though I'm not married...Andy Griggs' song is one of the sexiest songs I know....and is something I hope for one day.
Tonight I Wanna Be Your Man
Baby light a couple candles
Lock the bedroom door
Put on some sweet soul music
Throw a blanket on the floor
Surrender to my patient hands
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
It hit me just this morning
When I passed you in the hall
I swear I caught you looking
Like you don't know me at all
Let me show you who I am
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
I'll always be your cover when your cold
When the world lines up against you
I'm the safe place you can go
Now and then we need to find some time to be in love
Just be in loveNow the whole world's in bed sleeping
I think we're finally alone
If the telephone starts ringing
We'll pretend like we're not home
Cause any fool would understand
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
Let me show you who I am
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna your man
Just forget about that wedding band
All week I've been your husband
Tonight I wanna be your man
And you know what? One day, when I least expect it, someone is going to manage to sneak up on me...and I'll finally take that plunge... Once I know he's the right man to for my heart. And I truly believe my heart will know him. Okay, go ahead and laugh now...I know. 34, single...and oddly idealistic. Who'd have thought? After everything, I still believe in a forever kind of love!
Sunday, June 17, 2007
A Brighter Future
I'm tired. Tired of letting my past control my present. The truth is, not all my childhood was bad. For a little while I had the childhood we all hope we can give to our children one day. So it didn't last. Does that make me a victim? Hell no. That's a conscious choice that we make. There's a difference between being victimized and being a victim. Lately I've realized that the thing that's been driving me is "not being a victim". The problem with that? It guarantees that you WILL become one....because your fears are wrapped up in being a victim. You inadvertently gravitate to it. So, as they say...if you close your eyes to see your future and you don't like what you see...change your future. It's really as simple as that.
I could sit here crying over spilt milk...and for a time I needed to do it...to let the poison out. But I'm looking at things differently these days. My past, present, and future are like a car. My future is the headlights...it just shows me where I want to go. No more, no less. My present is the steering wheel. It's what heads me in the right direction or allows me to change directions if I don't like the direction I'm headed in. My past? That's my rearview mirror. Now I can sit there and look back and see all the near misses or mistakes or missed opportunities...but you know what? I can't change the past. So instead, when I look back, I see all the ground I've covered and how far I've come. And it's made a difference. I'm happier with what I see, and I realize...I've come a long way! Not only that, I've grown. I've gotten better...and I've had a lot of successes along the way. I think that's a hell of a lot healthier to focus on.
So on this Father's day, instead of whining about what I didn't have, I'm gonna be glad for my step dad who has always tried to be there for me...even though he came into my life much later. And I'm going to celebrate all the father figures that I've had along the way that have shown me what I want for my own kids...if I were to have them. And I'm going to celebrate the fact that I still have my dad, and I love him, and that he's made less mistakes with my youngest sister.
In celebration of my positive outlook, I'm going to post a song that reminds me that we all make an impact on the people we touch...and that this is what I want for any future children I may be blessed with someday. And now I'm one step closer to knowing the kind of man I would share my life with.
I could sit here crying over spilt milk...and for a time I needed to do it...to let the poison out. But I'm looking at things differently these days. My past, present, and future are like a car. My future is the headlights...it just shows me where I want to go. No more, no less. My present is the steering wheel. It's what heads me in the right direction or allows me to change directions if I don't like the direction I'm headed in. My past? That's my rearview mirror. Now I can sit there and look back and see all the near misses or mistakes or missed opportunities...but you know what? I can't change the past. So instead, when I look back, I see all the ground I've covered and how far I've come. And it's made a difference. I'm happier with what I see, and I realize...I've come a long way! Not only that, I've grown. I've gotten better...and I've had a lot of successes along the way. I think that's a hell of a lot healthier to focus on.
So on this Father's day, instead of whining about what I didn't have, I'm gonna be glad for my step dad who has always tried to be there for me...even though he came into my life much later. And I'm going to celebrate all the father figures that I've had along the way that have shown me what I want for my own kids...if I were to have them. And I'm going to celebrate the fact that I still have my dad, and I love him, and that he's made less mistakes with my youngest sister.
In celebration of my positive outlook, I'm going to post a song that reminds me that we all make an impact on the people we touch...and that this is what I want for any future children I may be blessed with someday. And now I'm one step closer to knowing the kind of man I would share my life with.
RODNEY ATKINS LYRICS
"Watching You"
Driving through town just my boy and me
With a happy meal in his booster seat
Knowing that he couldn't have the toy
Till his nuggets were gone
Green traffic light turned straight to red
I hit my breaks and mumbled under my breath
His fries went a flying and his orange drink covered his lap
Well then my four year old said a four letter word
That started with "s" and I was concerned
So I said son now now where did you learn to talk like that
[Chorus one]
He said I've been watching you dad, ain't that cool
I'm your buckaroo,
I wanna be like you
And eat all my food and grow as tall as you are
We got cowboy boots and camo pants
Yeah we're just alike, hey ain't we dad
I wanna do everything you do
So I've been watching you
We got back home and I went to the barn
I bowed my head and I prayed real hard
Said lord please help me help my stupid self
Then this side of bedtime later that night
Turning on my son's scooby doo nightlight
He crawled out of bed and he got down on his knees
He closed his little eyes, folded his little hands
And spoke to god like he was talking to a friend
And I said son now where'd you learn to pray like that
[Chorus two]
He said I've been watching you dad, ain't that cool
I'm your buckaroo,
I wanna be like you
And eat all my food and grow as tall as you are
We like fixing things and holding mama's hand
Yeah we're just alike, hey ain't we dad
I wanna do everything you do
So I've been watching you
[Bridge]
With tears in my eyes I wrapped him in a hug
Said my little bear is growing up
He said but when I'm big I'll still know what to do
[Chorus three]
Cause I've been watching you dad, ain't that cool
I'm your buckaroo,
I wanna be like you
And eat all my food and grow as tall as you are
By then I'll be as strong as superman
We'll be just alike, hey won't we dad
When I can do everything you do
Cause I've been watching you
Sunday, May 13, 2007
On Mother's Day...
I think every mother/daughter relationship is probably complicated. Even if you're close, with love comes those conflicting emotions of wanting to hang on yet needing to let go. I don't think it probably gets easier with age, either. It's tough for mother's to face that you're all grown up...because the instinct is to look out for you...to protect you.
Now, I'm not a mom, so I won't pretend to know... I just know how my mother and I are. Our relationship is tempestuous at best. That doesn't mean we don't love and respect each other. As the matter of fact, you won't find a daughter more proud or respectful of her mother than me. I know all the obstacles she's overcome...and how much the odds were against her when it came to survival, much less parenting...but she made it happen. She made it work because in her eyes, there were no other options. Her love for us overrode all the statistics. With zero college education and not much more than faith...she took care of us. She was an amazing example. And after we lost my youngest brother, she was still there...pushing forward, harnessing her heartbreak and pain into more faith and a steadfastness that never failed us.
She was a single mom, but she made sure we always had everything we needed...especially emotionally. She supported us in our endeavors. She never laughed at our dreams or told us we weren't good enough. She was simply there. She never missed one of our school performances even though she was working fulltime and picking up whatever overtime she could. She made every single one of our parent/teacher conferences. She made sure we did our homework and that we knew that she expected nothing less than our absolute best at all times. And we gave it to her. The last person we ever wanted to let down was her. Even with all that freedom because of the hours she worked...we didn't abuse it. We didn't stay out all night. We didn't do drugs. We didn't throw wild parties. We rarely attended them. We never got drunk. We were good kids with good grades...and we worked as soon as we were old enough.
She's the strongest woman I know. When I was ten she dealt with the loss of my brother, my dad cheating on her-again, moving from the Philippines to the states, divorcing my dad, then my sexual abuse...and not once did she falter. She was unflappable in the midst of all that chaos...the strength that her other 3 children needed. And when she lost my other brother when I was 14, she still maintained her faith and steadfastness. She's been my rock most of my life....and my example.
The funny thing is, we fight like cats and dogs when we're around each other for too long. I live thousands of miles away from her and it works. We're closer when we're further apart. Why? Because although she taught me to be strong and independent, she always kinda figured it was independent of everyone but her. I've got a mind of my own...and I've had a great example of what tough should look like... I share many of her strengths... How could I not? She's an amazing woman. The problem is, I share some of her biggest flaws, too. Her stubbornness. Her singlemindedness...all those traits that can be both good and bad.
And then there's the generational thing. She's very old school Asian. I'm an All-American tomboy. I frustrate the hell out of her. I'm not quite ladylike enough. I'm too outspoken. I'm too brash, too cocky. And yet she's so proud of me and my accomplishments. I've never doubted that or her love for me...even at our most difficult times in our relationship.
As complicated as our relationship can sometimes be...I love her. She's my hero!
Now, I'm not a mom, so I won't pretend to know... I just know how my mother and I are. Our relationship is tempestuous at best. That doesn't mean we don't love and respect each other. As the matter of fact, you won't find a daughter more proud or respectful of her mother than me. I know all the obstacles she's overcome...and how much the odds were against her when it came to survival, much less parenting...but she made it happen. She made it work because in her eyes, there were no other options. Her love for us overrode all the statistics. With zero college education and not much more than faith...she took care of us. She was an amazing example. And after we lost my youngest brother, she was still there...pushing forward, harnessing her heartbreak and pain into more faith and a steadfastness that never failed us.
She was a single mom, but she made sure we always had everything we needed...especially emotionally. She supported us in our endeavors. She never laughed at our dreams or told us we weren't good enough. She was simply there. She never missed one of our school performances even though she was working fulltime and picking up whatever overtime she could. She made every single one of our parent/teacher conferences. She made sure we did our homework and that we knew that she expected nothing less than our absolute best at all times. And we gave it to her. The last person we ever wanted to let down was her. Even with all that freedom because of the hours she worked...we didn't abuse it. We didn't stay out all night. We didn't do drugs. We didn't throw wild parties. We rarely attended them. We never got drunk. We were good kids with good grades...and we worked as soon as we were old enough.
She's the strongest woman I know. When I was ten she dealt with the loss of my brother, my dad cheating on her-again, moving from the Philippines to the states, divorcing my dad, then my sexual abuse...and not once did she falter. She was unflappable in the midst of all that chaos...the strength that her other 3 children needed. And when she lost my other brother when I was 14, she still maintained her faith and steadfastness. She's been my rock most of my life....and my example.
The funny thing is, we fight like cats and dogs when we're around each other for too long. I live thousands of miles away from her and it works. We're closer when we're further apart. Why? Because although she taught me to be strong and independent, she always kinda figured it was independent of everyone but her. I've got a mind of my own...and I've had a great example of what tough should look like... I share many of her strengths... How could I not? She's an amazing woman. The problem is, I share some of her biggest flaws, too. Her stubbornness. Her singlemindedness...all those traits that can be both good and bad.
And then there's the generational thing. She's very old school Asian. I'm an All-American tomboy. I frustrate the hell out of her. I'm not quite ladylike enough. I'm too outspoken. I'm too brash, too cocky. And yet she's so proud of me and my accomplishments. I've never doubted that or her love for me...even at our most difficult times in our relationship.
As complicated as our relationship can sometimes be...I love her. She's my hero!
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Attitudes
It usually takes a lot to get me heated. I'm generally a pretty laid back person. But not this last Tuesday. Don't get me wrong, part of it had me laughing. The other part. Grrr.
See, I didn't have to work until the afternoon. It happens every once in a while. So when Kirk got ready to leave for work, I took Izzy out to go potty and to say goodbye. She loves doing that. Since I wasn't going anywhere, I left my cell phones and keys in the house. Out of habit, Kirk locked the front door. Doh!
Okay, so the second I realized it I screamed his name...and not in that bedroom voice way. More aggravated humor. It was funny. It was also an accident, and I knew it.
For a second I thought about freaking out. My first thought was...Shit! The one time I don't bring my phones! Just my luck. Then my thoughts shifted quickly to resolution questions. How was I going to get in the house? How was I going to contact Kirk to let me into the house? What now? That's how I work. Probably why my friends all think I thrive on chaos...i.e. work.
And then I remembered. Amber. She has a copy of my house key. She's had it since Izzy was attacked because she'd check on her or sit with her, or take her out. I looked in their driveway figuring worst case, I'd be able to call Kirk if Amber was gone. But all the cars were there, so I knocked on the door. No answer. I rang the doorbell.
Angie came to the door. She's Mike's new girl.
Angie: Yeah, what's up?
Me: Is Amber home? Kirk accidentally locked me out of the house and went to work.
Angie (with a bit of an attitude): I don't know. Is her truck here?
Me: Yeah it is. She has a copy of my key. Can you please just let her know what happened and that I need it?
Angie: Hang on.
She came back to the door with the key, handed it to me, then slammed the door in my face.
Now I know it was a little early. It was around 8am. But I don't randomly just show up on their doorstep for no reason. And Mike, Ben, Kirk and I have been friends for a long time now. Mike chose to purchase the lot next door to us after Kirk picked his lot. Mike's been accidentally locked out of their house on several occassions by Ben. He's hung out at our house while he was waiting. We all have history.
I don't point fingers at this girl or give her attitude...despite the fact that a bunch of our friends feel she's using Mike. I give her the benefit of the doubt. I've been cordial to her. I've been friendly and respectful. So what gave her the idea that it would be acceptable to me for her to get all snooty with me? I definitely didn't appreciate it or find it humorous. Especially considering that just a few days before Mike took her to the Daytona 500...a race that he'd already invited Kirk to. (He uninvited Kirk in order to take her...and then approached him about possibly watching her dogs while they were gone). And Kirk never once said anything because he wants Mike to be happy.
But she'd better watch her step, because she's starting to tread on very thin ice. And I'm not nearly as nice when crossed as Kirk is.
See, I didn't have to work until the afternoon. It happens every once in a while. So when Kirk got ready to leave for work, I took Izzy out to go potty and to say goodbye. She loves doing that. Since I wasn't going anywhere, I left my cell phones and keys in the house. Out of habit, Kirk locked the front door. Doh!
Okay, so the second I realized it I screamed his name...and not in that bedroom voice way. More aggravated humor. It was funny. It was also an accident, and I knew it.
For a second I thought about freaking out. My first thought was...Shit! The one time I don't bring my phones! Just my luck. Then my thoughts shifted quickly to resolution questions. How was I going to get in the house? How was I going to contact Kirk to let me into the house? What now? That's how I work. Probably why my friends all think I thrive on chaos...i.e. work.
And then I remembered. Amber. She has a copy of my house key. She's had it since Izzy was attacked because she'd check on her or sit with her, or take her out. I looked in their driveway figuring worst case, I'd be able to call Kirk if Amber was gone. But all the cars were there, so I knocked on the door. No answer. I rang the doorbell.
Angie came to the door. She's Mike's new girl.
Angie: Yeah, what's up?
Me: Is Amber home? Kirk accidentally locked me out of the house and went to work.
Angie (with a bit of an attitude): I don't know. Is her truck here?
Me: Yeah it is. She has a copy of my key. Can you please just let her know what happened and that I need it?
Angie: Hang on.
She came back to the door with the key, handed it to me, then slammed the door in my face.
Now I know it was a little early. It was around 8am. But I don't randomly just show up on their doorstep for no reason. And Mike, Ben, Kirk and I have been friends for a long time now. Mike chose to purchase the lot next door to us after Kirk picked his lot. Mike's been accidentally locked out of their house on several occassions by Ben. He's hung out at our house while he was waiting. We all have history.
I don't point fingers at this girl or give her attitude...despite the fact that a bunch of our friends feel she's using Mike. I give her the benefit of the doubt. I've been cordial to her. I've been friendly and respectful. So what gave her the idea that it would be acceptable to me for her to get all snooty with me? I definitely didn't appreciate it or find it humorous. Especially considering that just a few days before Mike took her to the Daytona 500...a race that he'd already invited Kirk to. (He uninvited Kirk in order to take her...and then approached him about possibly watching her dogs while they were gone). And Kirk never once said anything because he wants Mike to be happy.
But she'd better watch her step, because she's starting to tread on very thin ice. And I'm not nearly as nice when crossed as Kirk is.
Sunday, February 11, 2007
Daddy Issues
My father called. Two days after all the tornadoes hit Florida (where I live) my father called. If it weren't so pathetic, it'd be laughable. Really. Except I have a hard time laughing. There are times when hearing his voice is like rubbing sand in my wounds. I hide them well, but I still have them. None of them are lethal, so I've managed to go on with minimal damages to my self esteem.
The funniest part was, he called me on the pretense of being concerned for me and whether or not I'd been impacted by the tornadoes. And then he asked if his sisters, my aunts, were impacted. Because, of course, I've kept in touch, though he couldn't be bothered most of the time. He's got their numbers, he chooses not to use them. So suddenly he's concerned...ironically enough, it sounded more like small talk than it did actual caring.
Then the real reason for his call came through. He's worried about my youngest sister. Apparently, she's now acting out. She's turned 19 years old and she's been going crazy on freedom since she turned 18. She's dating this guy, she's not coming home, she's not checking in. Her reasoning? "I'm an adult now, I can do what I want and you can't stop me." And they are worried. They bought that crap. Nevermind that she has a part time job that doesn't even make her enough money to pay her cell phone bill, not to mention her car, etc.
He doesn't know what to do. It's funny, really, if it weren't so sad. He never had to worry about my sister and I. Of course he didn't worry anyway. He left that to my mom. He barely remembered we exhisted...with the exception of Christmas and birthdays (and on birthdays he had to be reminded by my grandmother). But now, he's got problems with the only child he DID have a hand in raising, so he turned to me and my sister. Yeah, found out he reached out to her, too. Because apparently he's at his wit's end. He feels helpless.
I don't think he realizes that once upon a time I would've given anything to have him care about me that much. To care enough to check on me, to worry about me, to think of me and wonder what I was doing and if I was okay. I didn't get that. Never have. Not even when he found out that I had been sexually abused. But he had it for Vanessa. I know I sound a bit angry. Really, I'm not. I'm just sad. I'm glad he cares about what is going on with my sister.
On top of everything, he has no idea how to fix the problems that he's worried about. Neither does his wife. As the matter of fact, he put her on the phone with me to give her pointers. And then they both begged me to talk to her...because she loves, respects, and looks up to her big sister. I guess I should be grateful. I always knew where the boundaries were with my mom. As for my dad? Oh, yeah....I feel the love. I guess I matter to him when he needs something. I really feel sorry for him. He missed out.
The funniest part was, he called me on the pretense of being concerned for me and whether or not I'd been impacted by the tornadoes. And then he asked if his sisters, my aunts, were impacted. Because, of course, I've kept in touch, though he couldn't be bothered most of the time. He's got their numbers, he chooses not to use them. So suddenly he's concerned...ironically enough, it sounded more like small talk than it did actual caring.
Then the real reason for his call came through. He's worried about my youngest sister. Apparently, she's now acting out. She's turned 19 years old and she's been going crazy on freedom since she turned 18. She's dating this guy, she's not coming home, she's not checking in. Her reasoning? "I'm an adult now, I can do what I want and you can't stop me." And they are worried. They bought that crap. Nevermind that she has a part time job that doesn't even make her enough money to pay her cell phone bill, not to mention her car, etc.
He doesn't know what to do. It's funny, really, if it weren't so sad. He never had to worry about my sister and I. Of course he didn't worry anyway. He left that to my mom. He barely remembered we exhisted...with the exception of Christmas and birthdays (and on birthdays he had to be reminded by my grandmother). But now, he's got problems with the only child he DID have a hand in raising, so he turned to me and my sister. Yeah, found out he reached out to her, too. Because apparently he's at his wit's end. He feels helpless.
I don't think he realizes that once upon a time I would've given anything to have him care about me that much. To care enough to check on me, to worry about me, to think of me and wonder what I was doing and if I was okay. I didn't get that. Never have. Not even when he found out that I had been sexually abused. But he had it for Vanessa. I know I sound a bit angry. Really, I'm not. I'm just sad. I'm glad he cares about what is going on with my sister.
On top of everything, he has no idea how to fix the problems that he's worried about. Neither does his wife. As the matter of fact, he put her on the phone with me to give her pointers. And then they both begged me to talk to her...because she loves, respects, and looks up to her big sister. I guess I should be grateful. I always knew where the boundaries were with my mom. As for my dad? Oh, yeah....I feel the love. I guess I matter to him when he needs something. I really feel sorry for him. He missed out.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
Touching Lives
I've never been an Anna Nicole Smith fan. I guess I really didn't take into account that there would actually be people who looked up to her and admired her. To me, she always seemed like a bad parody of "White Trash Barbie". Not that I didn't feel for her, especially lately. No one deserves to outlive their children...or to be the one who finds her son dead. No one. My heart went out to her. She hadn't had an easy year. Add that to losing the Trimspa account and several other hard blows, and you really felt badly for her.
So when I heard of her death, I was a bit indifferent. My immediate thought was..."Aww, that's too bad." And I meant it. First she lost her son. Now her baby is going to grow up without her. But overall, it was surreal to me.
It wasn't until this last Friday, where at a team meeting I was holding, one of my employees requested we have a "moment of silence" that I realized that there were some people that admired her brash, brazen nature. And then hearing that one of the message boards I used to frequent were "bashing" her. Personally, I thought that was in poor taste. She may have been a bit crass, but I don't think she deserved that.
It got me thinking back. I realized I remember the first time I'd heard of Anna Nicole. It was when she'd married that old millionaire guy and his family sued for his money, siting that he wasn't in his right mind to will her all of his worldly possessions. And then I saw her in Playboy and though...she really doesn't look too bad for a "plus sized" model. And then there was Naked Gun 33 1/3. She cracked me up in that one. I saw it with my mom and two best friends. I remember admiring the way she could poke fun at her whole sex symbol facade and laugh.
I realized that even though I may not have thought too much of her, she did touch my life...even if it was for a few laughs. Her poor baby, she left behind. I guess I'm not so indifferent afterall.
So when I heard of her death, I was a bit indifferent. My immediate thought was..."Aww, that's too bad." And I meant it. First she lost her son. Now her baby is going to grow up without her. But overall, it was surreal to me.
It wasn't until this last Friday, where at a team meeting I was holding, one of my employees requested we have a "moment of silence" that I realized that there were some people that admired her brash, brazen nature. And then hearing that one of the message boards I used to frequent were "bashing" her. Personally, I thought that was in poor taste. She may have been a bit crass, but I don't think she deserved that.
It got me thinking back. I realized I remember the first time I'd heard of Anna Nicole. It was when she'd married that old millionaire guy and his family sued for his money, siting that he wasn't in his right mind to will her all of his worldly possessions. And then I saw her in Playboy and though...she really doesn't look too bad for a "plus sized" model. And then there was Naked Gun 33 1/3. She cracked me up in that one. I saw it with my mom and two best friends. I remember admiring the way she could poke fun at her whole sex symbol facade and laugh.
I realized that even though I may not have thought too much of her, she did touch my life...even if it was for a few laughs. Her poor baby, she left behind. I guess I'm not so indifferent afterall.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Mad World
You know, sometimes I wonder what this world is coming to. This last week, I witnessed a child left alone in a car while the mother rushed into the grocery store to pick up whatever was more important than her child's safety. I wouldn't even leave my puppy alone in the car. I was all set to call the cops. She should be grateful I didn't notice right away.
What posesses people to take a chance with something as important as children? I don't have children of my own, but I remember how my mother was. There is no way in hell she would've left a defenseless 2 year old in their car seat in a busy parking lot to fend for himself from whatever sicko or pervert might have been roaming.
What posesses people to take a chance with something as important as children? I don't have children of my own, but I remember how my mother was. There is no way in hell she would've left a defenseless 2 year old in their car seat in a busy parking lot to fend for himself from whatever sicko or pervert might have been roaming.
Friday, January 19, 2007
Welcome To My Insanity
Two days before Christmas Kirk came home with a gift for me...an adorable puppy. After much playing with her, fawning over her, and just general fun, I decided to name her Isabella...or Izzy for short. She is a Shiba Inu...and when I got her, she was 8 weeks old and 4 lbs 6 oz.
She's a feisty little puppy and quickly won my heart. How could she not? She's smart, stubborn, energetic...and very friendly. It literally took me about 3 days to get her housebroken. She responds well to positive reinforcement....and she's a healthy eater. Well, and she terrorizes my next door neighbor's girlfriend's full grown shelties (they actually love playing with her)...not to mention his cat(she borrowed his toys as they were perfect for her tiny size)...but in a friendly way. (Some have even commented that she's very much like her owner) Why did this make my blog, you wonder.... Well, here's why.
Many of you know that because I'm a retail electronics manager with multiple locations, the holiday season is my busy time of year...so everything slows down for me. The blog writing, the myspacing and cherrytapping, the message boards...yes, even the hanging out with friends. Well, on the 30th...I took a few hours off to attend a friend's wedding about an hour north of my home. While waiting for the wedding to start I got a panicked call from Kirk. Isabella had been attacked the big dog across the street and was headed to the emergency animal hospital. The second I realized what he said I felt my stomach just drop and my heart rate rise. I threw my card at a friend who was there and told her to wish the happy couple well for me and to give them my gift. I'd had an emergency and needed to get home. All I heard from Kirk was that this bigger dog went for Isabella's throat area and that he'd had to punch Ziggy hard in the head to get him to let her out of his mouth...and that a neighbor was driving him to the hospital.
It turns out that Alan, our neighbor across the street, had brought his big German Shepherd/Chow mix dog into our yard. Isabella had just woken up from her nap and had to potty...so Kirk had her outside. Alan thought Ziggy should meet Isabella. After Kirk expressed some concern because Ziggy's not particularly friendly, Alan said everything would be fine...they'd just sniff each other. So Ziggy sniffed her...and when she went to sniff back, she found herself in his mouth. Fortunately Kirk reacted quickly and went to pull her out of his mouth as he punched the 40+ lb dog in the head. According to the vets...it saved her life. That big dog filleted the side of Isabella's face. He managed to bite almost from her eye (he narrowly missed that spot) all the way down past her mouth, pulling off fur, skin, and fat. If Kirk hadn't pulled on her...there would've been muscle damage, too...or possibly death. So at 9 weeks, she had her first surgery...that required her to stay overnight. Kirk and I were a wreck.
They'd had to put an irrigation tube in the side of her face for leakage and to prevent infection. She'd had stitches all up and down the side of her face. She was on antibiotics and doped up on pain meds. The vet bill was over $1000. And now I had to confront the neighbors..fortunately for them and me...they decided to do the right thing and pay since it was the owner's judgement lapse. He'd been drinking, we found out later. Did I mention I was also grand opening a new store? Yeah...I had my hands full and my mind was worried. They weren't sure if the trauma from the injury would cause the skin that they'd tried to sew back on to die or what would happen.
As it turned out...she developed an infection and the skin around the trauma site died. So back to the vet we went. She'd managed to gain weight through the whole thing and went up to 4 lbs 9 oz. But she was gonna have to have a second surgery. This time they cut out all the dead skin and had to pull the skin from her neck up to the skin on her upper face and sew them together...hopefully healing that way. She's a baby, so they said that although it was a traumatic incident, she couldn't-healthwise- have picked a better time because she's still growing and her skin is elastic. But still...more stitches, more time in an e-collar.
She's been a very lucky girl...because this time the wound healed. After nearly bi-weekly visits to the vet...she doesn't have to go for another few weeks. She's also gone up to nearly 8 lbs. My pup is growing like a weed. And I was told that after about a week, once the wound was pretty much healed, I got to take off her e-collar. So yesterday...finally...I got to take off her e-collar. She's still on anti-biotics...and some meds to keep her from being too hyper that she tears open her wound again...but otherwise she's fine. She's even been going for walks/runs around the block...and playing with a lot of the other neighborhood pups again. She's back to her energetic self. Thank GOD!
You know...I took for granted how tough a parent's job was...until she got hurt. I can only imagine how much harder it is on a person when it's their child. Worrying about the puppy was hard enough. Now it's back to the normal stuff...like her teething...and thinking that Kirk is her own personal chew toy. You'd have no idea she'd even been hurt, now...well, except for the shaved hair and the scar...but that will all grow back or wind up covered by hair. Now maybe the rest of the year will go more smoothly.
Go Bears!...since the Cowboys tanked.