Ben and I had a sweet visit with my dad yesterday. We've come a little ways since summer. It feels good.
Originally, I had planned to take Ben out of school an hour early and drive him down to Modesto to spend the late afternoon with my dad and his wife, and to have an early dinner with them. I was dreading the outing because it meant a later bed time for Ben (on a school night) and quite a lot of restless time in the car (at least 90 minutes each way).
I haven't seen my stepmom, Teresa since our fall-out in August so I was also a little apprehensive about how she and I would interact, although our recent phone conversations have been friendly and upbeat.
An hour before I was supposed to fetch Ben from school, my dad called and said that Teresa had been sick all day and could we meet in Stockton for some post-birthday shopping at Target and maybe a coffee after?
I was thrilled because it meant less driving for me and less whining and "are we there yet" from Ben. And for my dad to take the initiative and actually suggest an alternative, well, that's huge. Particularly when it comes to seeing his grandson.
Ben was so excited to be leaving school early. He knew that he would be shopping with Grandpa and in his mind, Grandpa has an endless amount of money (which he doesn't but he is very generous and takes great delight in giving Ben every type of remote controlled vehicle that he can find). Ben and I ran hand-in-hand to the car, all the while talking excitedly about what he might find at Target.
We went to a new Target in Stockton and as I pulled into the parking lot, I saw my dad waiting at the entrance. I pulled around and Ben flung open the door, without even unbuckling his car seat, shouting, "Grandpa! Let's go shopping!"
I gave my dad strict instructions on making Ben focus, not buying too much, making sure that the toys weren't too loud, too cheap, or too difficult to assemble, blah, blah, blah. My dad waved me off, grabbed Ben by the hand and off they went to toys as I set off to my favorite part of Target: the clothing department!
The Clearance section at the Stockton Target is unreal. Huge. Deeply discounted. I grabbed two shirts and could have easily filled a whole cart but my curiosity over what was happening in the toy aisle was piqued so I made a mental note to return to Stockton (that's a first!) and made my way to the toy department.
I found Ben and my dad puzzling over which Air Hogs to purchase. "They climb the walls," my dad announced. "Oh great," I said. "This one can go across the ceiling," Ben added. "Put it in the cart," my dad said. Surprisingly, the cart wasn't that full. Granted, it was a lot fuller than it would be if I took Ben shopping but it wasn't obscene. Yet. Ben vacillated over a Hot Wheels track versus a Tranformers RPM figure. I made him pick one although my dad wanted to get both. "Save one for Christmas, if you really want him to have it," I said.
Somehow we wrapped up the process and made our way to the check-out aisle where the sum of all Ben's toys, along with my two shirts, was actually less than my mortgage payment.
From there, we went across the parking lot to Panerra Bread where Ben wolfed down a grilled cheese, a yogurt and a juice box as my dad watched, wide-eyed. Ben then grabbed my hand, pulled me in close and whispered, "I need another grilled cheese, Mommy!" My dad, who is hard of hearing, said, "He didn't just ask for MORE food, did he?" Shaking his head, he and Ben returned to the counter and ordered an enormous scone for Ben. My dad came back to the table, which was around the corner. "Um, where's Ben?" I asked. "Paying for the scone," my dad answered. "This should be interesting," I said.
A couple of moments later, a confused Ben wandered back to the table, with change and no scone. My dad had a good laugh and walked BACK to the counter with him to retrieve a giant scone, covered in orange icing. Ben proceeded to eat only the icing and then handed the interior to my dad. More laughs.
We left right after the scone. My dad had to get back for a late meeting and I was all too happy to get Ben home for a decent bedtime. Big hugs all the way around and we were all on our way.
On the way home, Ben and I talked about how lucky he is to have such a nice and generous Grandpa. Ben insisted on having the toys piled up in the backseat so that he could look at them and the excitement over the stack of new purchases quickly turned into a huge whine session when he realized that we would be sitting in 5:00 commute traffic. And the whining turned into an all-out bathroom emergency when on I-5, in the middle of BFE, Ben decided that his bladder had reached capacity. Being the resourceful mom that I am, I had a remedy which involved a plastic cup and some backseat finagling, but Ben developed a case of stage fright and opted to wait until we could find a respectable restroom.
All in all, I'd say that the visit was a success. My dad seems to be relating much better to Ben these days and he seems less judgmental over my parenting style, as well. He actually looked happy during our brief time together. Of course, with my sister's wedding and Thanksgiving quickly approaching, he AND Teresa will be likely in high-stress mode and there will be tense moments. But I think we're on the upswing.
I'm feeling something new towards the two of them: a sense of tenderness and of compassion. It's a good feeling. I think I can make the space, carry the torch and continue on toward a relationship that is more loving, more accepting. For Ben's sake, I can.
Friday, November 6, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Mortified
A quick lesson for anyone on meds:
Do not leave the medication in full sight for anyone - like a new boyfriend - to see.
If this does happen, get ready to do a lot of explaining. Especially when said boyfriend says: "I didn't know what to think when I saw what you are taking. Here I am, falling in love with this wonderful woman, and then I see her daily meds. I just thought it was a sleep problem."
I suddenly realized the importance of knowing what "off label use" is and why it is important to be be able to explain this concept to those who are close to me. Yes, I have a sleep problem. You could even call it as disorder, if you really wanted to be clinical about it. No, I do am not bipolar, manic depressive, or schizophrenic even though the medications that I take may or may not be used for those purposes.
Damn, that was a hard conversation to have.
But if I'm sleeping better, who cares what I'm taking?
And yes, everything is fine with the new guy. Lots of honesty, a conversation I wasn't quite ready to have, and a lot of understanding. All good.
Lesson learned.
Do not leave the medication in full sight for anyone - like a new boyfriend - to see.
If this does happen, get ready to do a lot of explaining. Especially when said boyfriend says: "I didn't know what to think when I saw what you are taking. Here I am, falling in love with this wonderful woman, and then I see her daily meds. I just thought it was a sleep problem."
I suddenly realized the importance of knowing what "off label use" is and why it is important to be be able to explain this concept to those who are close to me. Yes, I have a sleep problem. You could even call it as disorder, if you really wanted to be clinical about it. No, I do am not bipolar, manic depressive, or schizophrenic even though the medications that I take may or may not be used for those purposes.
Damn, that was a hard conversation to have.
But if I'm sleeping better, who cares what I'm taking?
And yes, everything is fine with the new guy. Lots of honesty, a conversation I wasn't quite ready to have, and a lot of understanding. All good.
Lesson learned.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Lucky
I died and went to heaven last weekend. And I'm still reeling from the experience. Pinch me. I'm still dreaming.
I had the opportunity to be a guest at a secret estate (actually known as a castle) in the remote area north of Lincoln. I'm talking VERY remote. The kind of remote that you don't easily find in the Sacramento area. The kind of remote that requires two gates to enter the grounds. The kind of remote where the hosts don't think about anyone driving home after a dinner party; guests are accommodated overnight. It's so secretive that I can't publish this on my regular blog. And only a handful of people know where I actually was last Saturday/Sunday.
So, where, exactly was I? I was at the home of a semi-famous trial attorney/bestselling author and his wife, who is a local chef, retired restaurateur, caterer and author. They throw regular dinner parties in honor of their friends and one of their friends happens to be one of my friends and he invited me for the dinner which would be his birthday celebration.
The hostess assured him that I could have my own room and that I would be welcome to stay as long as I like, for the birthday weekend. Upon arriving at the estate and meeting our hosts, I felt certain that I never, ever wanted to leave.
The house and the grounds are palatial, yet inviting and comfortable. There is a lake, a replica of Stonehenge, beautiful gardens.
There are the hosts, P and J, who immediately poured French wine and led us to an enormous deck where they also served us multiple appetizers.
The rest of the evening is a dreamy and surreal blur (I blame it on the wine!). Guests arrived. Fabulous guests who I wanted to sit and talk with forever. A woman, close to my age, who has a position in the Schwarzenegger Cabinet, although she is a staunch Dem. She had great stories of her days in DC and her time with Hilary. Yes, that Hilary. Another guest who has had chef gigs all over the world and even had a stint at National Geographic. And our own hostess, P, who is a locally known chef. For the sit-down dinner, she turned out multiple courses of delicious items that I could never. ever imagine preparing.
We drank, we ate, we talked, we laughed. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
At bedtime, I was taken to a room that looked like a hotel suite. Do indeed pinch me, I thought. I never want to leave.
In the morning, P was up early, in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for all the guests. We sat in her lovely kitchen and drank coffee. In our pajamas. Hungover. Yet so relaxed.
I had brought her cookies and as she munched on the cookies before breakfast, she kept saying to me, "You must give me this recipe." "Really?" I asked. "These are amazing," she told me, as she reached for another.
Mimosas were served with breakfast. I laughed harder than I have laughed in a long time. Much to my embarrassment, I even snorted. Once. That's how hard I was laughing.
The breakfast conversation revolved around the Sacramento Bee restaurant write-up which had just rated Slocum House over Ella's. P was appalled. I told her I had never been to either. She told me exactly what to order at Ella's.
We stayed on into the day, enjoying the sunshine and the company. At 2pm, we drove home. It was anti-climactic, to say the least. I asked my friend, "Do you think that P and J would adopt me?" "Get in line," he told me.
I feel amazingly fortunate to have had the experience of being at the secret castle and was riding the high of the experience all week long. Rumor has it that there will be other invitations, other opportunities to escape life and check into the castle for more of the same. I'm waiting, holding my breath, all the while feeling like the luckiest girl, living a very blessed life. It's amazing how one event, one opportunity to step out of your life and into another life, one night in the company of people you might never have otherwise met, can change your perspective. On everything.
Lucky.
Blessed.
Grateful.
I had the opportunity to be a guest at a secret estate (actually known as a castle) in the remote area north of Lincoln. I'm talking VERY remote. The kind of remote that you don't easily find in the Sacramento area. The kind of remote that requires two gates to enter the grounds. The kind of remote where the hosts don't think about anyone driving home after a dinner party; guests are accommodated overnight. It's so secretive that I can't publish this on my regular blog. And only a handful of people know where I actually was last Saturday/Sunday.
So, where, exactly was I? I was at the home of a semi-famous trial attorney/bestselling author and his wife, who is a local chef, retired restaurateur, caterer and author. They throw regular dinner parties in honor of their friends and one of their friends happens to be one of my friends and he invited me for the dinner which would be his birthday celebration.
The hostess assured him that I could have my own room and that I would be welcome to stay as long as I like, for the birthday weekend. Upon arriving at the estate and meeting our hosts, I felt certain that I never, ever wanted to leave.
The house and the grounds are palatial, yet inviting and comfortable. There is a lake, a replica of Stonehenge, beautiful gardens.
There are the hosts, P and J, who immediately poured French wine and led us to an enormous deck where they also served us multiple appetizers.
The rest of the evening is a dreamy and surreal blur (I blame it on the wine!). Guests arrived. Fabulous guests who I wanted to sit and talk with forever. A woman, close to my age, who has a position in the Schwarzenegger Cabinet, although she is a staunch Dem. She had great stories of her days in DC and her time with Hilary. Yes, that Hilary. Another guest who has had chef gigs all over the world and even had a stint at National Geographic. And our own hostess, P, who is a locally known chef. For the sit-down dinner, she turned out multiple courses of delicious items that I could never. ever imagine preparing.
We drank, we ate, we talked, we laughed. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
At bedtime, I was taken to a room that looked like a hotel suite. Do indeed pinch me, I thought. I never want to leave.
In the morning, P was up early, in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for all the guests. We sat in her lovely kitchen and drank coffee. In our pajamas. Hungover. Yet so relaxed.
I had brought her cookies and as she munched on the cookies before breakfast, she kept saying to me, "You must give me this recipe." "Really?" I asked. "These are amazing," she told me, as she reached for another.
Mimosas were served with breakfast. I laughed harder than I have laughed in a long time. Much to my embarrassment, I even snorted. Once. That's how hard I was laughing.
The breakfast conversation revolved around the Sacramento Bee restaurant write-up which had just rated Slocum House over Ella's. P was appalled. I told her I had never been to either. She told me exactly what to order at Ella's.
We stayed on into the day, enjoying the sunshine and the company. At 2pm, we drove home. It was anti-climactic, to say the least. I asked my friend, "Do you think that P and J would adopt me?" "Get in line," he told me.
I feel amazingly fortunate to have had the experience of being at the secret castle and was riding the high of the experience all week long. Rumor has it that there will be other invitations, other opportunities to escape life and check into the castle for more of the same. I'm waiting, holding my breath, all the while feeling like the luckiest girl, living a very blessed life. It's amazing how one event, one opportunity to step out of your life and into another life, one night in the company of people you might never have otherwise met, can change your perspective. On everything.
Lucky.
Blessed.
Grateful.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Abyss
Disregard my last post. I am sleeping horribly. HORRIBLY. I don't know what the meds are doing but I do know that I haven't slept since before Ben had pneumonia. I feel like I am in the darkest and deepest hole. My eyes are constantly burning, my head feels perpetually cloudy and I can't articulate anything clearly. I am exhausted.
I toyed with the idea today, briefly, of going into the ER with a migraine complaint just so I could get a shot of Demerol and sleep for 10 hours. I still may do it. I did talk with my doctor on Friday night. Or rather, she talked while I cried. The solution she gave me wasn't successful.
Something has shifted over the last two weeks. The pace of the thoughts that run through my head has quickened significantly. As bedtime draws closer, I feel more and more anxious. My body feels like it's in a constant flight or fight mode. I don't like it. Any of it.
This week, I'm giving a speech one evening on wellness. I have a full client load and an extra yoga class to teach. I have a date. I have an exclusive birthday event to attend. And I have an acute attack of tendonitis in my ankle again. I'm hoping and praying that my mind can find some peace soon. There has to be an answer to this sleep mystery. There just has to be.
I toyed with the idea today, briefly, of going into the ER with a migraine complaint just so I could get a shot of Demerol and sleep for 10 hours. I still may do it. I did talk with my doctor on Friday night. Or rather, she talked while I cried. The solution she gave me wasn't successful.
Something has shifted over the last two weeks. The pace of the thoughts that run through my head has quickened significantly. As bedtime draws closer, I feel more and more anxious. My body feels like it's in a constant flight or fight mode. I don't like it. Any of it.
This week, I'm giving a speech one evening on wellness. I have a full client load and an extra yoga class to teach. I have a date. I have an exclusive birthday event to attend. And I have an acute attack of tendonitis in my ankle again. I'm hoping and praying that my mind can find some peace soon. There has to be an answer to this sleep mystery. There just has to be.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Medicated
I started a new medication for sleep. I can't disclose what it is because I don't want to be categorized into a certain type of person, but I can tell you that I AM SLEEPING!
I am sleeping so well that I'm becoming optimistic about the future! Before, I would always think, "How can I look forward to this event/activity when I don't know if I'll be dog tired or just a little tired." I was living a life of fear. Fear of being exhausted. I believe that this same fear was holding me back in relationships. In fact, I know it was.
But not any more. I went to the city yesterday and had a packed day of fighting traffic, navigating from the deepest part of the Mission to the outermost tip of North Beach, and expecting my body to cooperate through a two hour advanced yoga class and a three hour pilates intensive course. No problem. I knew that I was improved when I threw away my half consumed latte because I felt like I'd had enough. I was awake. And more important, I was present.
Yesterday was a shining example of how I can live my life. I feel like the biggest, wettest and darkest blanket has just been lifted off of every part of me and it feels terrific!
I am sleeping so well that I'm becoming optimistic about the future! Before, I would always think, "How can I look forward to this event/activity when I don't know if I'll be dog tired or just a little tired." I was living a life of fear. Fear of being exhausted. I believe that this same fear was holding me back in relationships. In fact, I know it was.
But not any more. I went to the city yesterday and had a packed day of fighting traffic, navigating from the deepest part of the Mission to the outermost tip of North Beach, and expecting my body to cooperate through a two hour advanced yoga class and a three hour pilates intensive course. No problem. I knew that I was improved when I threw away my half consumed latte because I felt like I'd had enough. I was awake. And more important, I was present.
Yesterday was a shining example of how I can live my life. I feel like the biggest, wettest and darkest blanket has just been lifted off of every part of me and it feels terrific!
Friday, September 18, 2009
Concessions
I sent my stepmom a card. I told her that she threw a beautiful party for my dad and that I didn't know what happened with the two of us. I told her that Ben started school and that his new teacher shares her name. I told her that he started soccer and that he loves it. I didn't tell her that I was sorry. Because I'm not.
But I do want to move past this feeling of unease; this feeling that the future with my dad and his wife is so uncertain. I knew one of us needed to make a move.
My dad called about a week after I sent the card and after a few moments of small talk, he said, "Here, Teresa wants to talk with you."
She got on the phone. "Hi honey. Thanks for the card. We've been really busy. How's Ben? I hope we can see him soon."
And that was that. Peace restored. At least for now.
But I do want to move past this feeling of unease; this feeling that the future with my dad and his wife is so uncertain. I knew one of us needed to make a move.
My dad called about a week after I sent the card and after a few moments of small talk, he said, "Here, Teresa wants to talk with you."
She got on the phone. "Hi honey. Thanks for the card. We've been really busy. How's Ben? I hope we can see him soon."
And that was that. Peace restored. At least for now.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Produce
Given my new-found love of Latin men, I've begun to stalk the cute Hispanic guy who brings the great peaches, nectarines and grapes to our local farmer's markets. Anyone need any fresh fruit?
I think it started last year when I began to frequent his booth at our neighborhood farmer's market. He was always super friendly and sweet and I thought he was cute.
Now, after actually having some good Latino experience, I'm absolutely swooning over the produce guy.
Yesterday, after teaching yoga, I made a bee-line for our local market to seek out his juicy Latin-ness
fruit. The fruit was so good that I packed Ben up this morning and headed downtown to
flirt my ass off
pick up 3 pounds of grapes.
He mumbled something to me in Spanish. I can't be sure but I think it may have been along the lines of: "Lose the kid and meet me back here in 30 minutes when the market closes."
Thank God for year-round farmer's markets and abundant Central Valley crops
and hot Latin men who look every bit as delicious as the succulent peaches they are vending! Why do I have this sense that Shopping Shelley is reading this and calling me crazy, while planning a trip to the market next weekend just to see me in action?!
I think it started last year when I began to frequent his booth at our neighborhood farmer's market. He was always super friendly and sweet and I thought he was cute.
Now, after actually having some good Latino experience, I'm absolutely swooning over the produce guy.
Yesterday, after teaching yoga, I made a bee-line for our local market to seek out his juicy Latin-ness
fruit. The fruit was so good that I packed Ben up this morning and headed downtown to
flirt my ass off
pick up 3 pounds of grapes.
He mumbled something to me in Spanish. I can't be sure but I think it may have been along the lines of: "Lose the kid and meet me back here in 30 minutes when the market closes."
Thank God for year-round farmer's markets and abundant Central Valley crops
and hot Latin men who look every bit as delicious as the succulent peaches they are vending! Why do I have this sense that Shopping Shelley is reading this and calling me crazy, while planning a trip to the market next weekend just to see me in action?!
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