5 Years

It's been five years since I've heard your laugh.
I think that is the hardest part.
That laugh was... original.
Entertaining.
Infectious.
It wasn't a sound I thought about until it was gone.

5 years is a long time.
Lots of things change.
Life goes on.

However, I do not think a day passes where I don't have at least a moment that I think about you.
It may be brief, just a slight flutter in my brain.
Or a whole car ride home by myself.
I have come to the conclusion that you will never leave my mind.
I used to try and force you out.
Mad at myself when you entered.
Then I realized, ignoring those thoughts, was just a try at controlling an uncontrollable situation.
Grief.

It's been five years and I believe I'm past the stages of grief.
Denial.
Anger.
Bargaining.
Depression.
Acceptance.

Denial: When you first died, I was sure it was some kind of practical joke.
You'd show up any minute at the bar and say something stupid like "YAHTZEE!"

Anger: WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING!!!??? This one hit hard. I was already mad/disappointed you hadn't come to my 30th birthday party. You died when I was mad. Goes to show, you never know what might happen, never hold on to anger.

Bargaining: I begged you... BEGGED you to show up in my dreams. I said I would move on. I'd do good things, I'd be a better person... I  just NEEDED to see you. I am not a religious person.... but I know I attempted to make deals (bargins) with God to just have you back....

Depression: I suffer this bitch anyway... but it was deep. I changed. I cancelled plans. I drank constantly. I disappeared into the grief and didn't want to come out.  In the grief I was closer to you.

Acceptance: I know you are gone. I know I won't see you. I know you will always be apart of me though, because in your own fucked up way, you taught me so much about myself during the 7-8 years we were friends, roommates.

So here I am... 5 years later, remembering VIVIDLY the phone call telling me you had died.

I know....
I will never listen to certain songs again. (Dirt Road Anthem, Over You...)
I will never enjoy Southern Iowa, 4-wheeling or dive bars like I used to.
I will always miss you, that smile and that laugh.

I miss you and I always will.

Merry Christmas Eve!

It's cold.
It snowed.
The ground is covered in white.
The PERFECT Christmas Eve.
Sitting in the living room with my husband and my dogs.
Mary is with her mom on Christmas Eve....

My Christmas gift from my parents is in the basement.
A treadmill they gave us money for a few months ago.
I bought on Craigslist, it's pretty nice actually.
I've used it... a few times... since August.

My gift from Jerry is on my finger.
He took a ring of my Grandma's and had it reset for me.
It's an opal.
It.Is.Beautiful.
I held back tears when he gave it to me.
It is a birthday and Christmas present.
So we sit here on Christmas Eve, looking at the presents under our tree.
There is not a lot.
Mary got a few things from Dad and Holly, some expensive, some not.
Jerry has a few gifts from me, but his main gift is a new smoker/grill, which we do not have yet.
As I said, my gift is on my finger.
I love it
I love it.
I LOVE MY RING!

We look at our tree, with very few presents under it,  thinking we should have bought more.
But...
There is thought.
There is love.
There is need/want in those gifts.
Even though the tree is not as full as we are accustomed to; it has gifts under it.
Some people don't even have that.

I know as kids we got a lot of toys and things, probably more than what my parents should have gotten us.
But it seems to be the universal symbol, that a Christmas tree is not REALLY a Christmas tree unless the gifts are PILED up beneath it.
The 3 gifts I  remember most are:
1. Red Rider Wagon (metal, not that plastic shit. Still have till this day.)
2. Chris Mutt (holiday animal Target had every year. Still have till this day.)
3. Mr. Cart.... a cart with three 'levels' that I pushed around the house (and still have till this day.)

But I don't remember much else when it comes to gifts.

I remember the scents, the people, the warmth.
F--- the gifts.
Give me those memories, the family together, the good food, the happiness that comes with the holidays.
I rather have a tree that is bare of gifts, then a house with no family.

Can I get an Amen?

 Merry the Eve of Christmas.
And please know, that the lack of gifts, never has to mean a lack of love.

F#ck Cancer

I got an email from a good friend today that an old co-worker of mine passed away last night.
I hadn't seen him in a few years.
Hadn't seen him since he was diagnosed with cancer.
My friend is obviously upset, as this guy was pretty awesome.
He was a dad, husband, friend and one of those co-workers that was always smiling.
I didn't know him well.
But I know he will be greatly missed by everyone that knew him.

A old friend and co-worker was diagnosed with colon cancer years back.
She is having to have surgery again to remove some questionable looking spots. (from what I understand)
As she wrote on FB "Going to be a little more tricky than the first time as he will have scar tissue to work with and because my organs have been previously operated and disturbed. He says he'll ultrasound the entire liver to make sure he got everything."
She is the mother of two, married to a great guy and an all around good person.
We aren't close, but I care for her.

A friend I worked with in my early 20's (who I haven't seen in years)...her teenage daughter is battling cancer.
This is her FB post from earlier:  "Without a successful surgery, Kenzy's life expectancy goes from below 20% to 0%. This is the ugly truth about Osteo when there is recurrence. We are not looking at statistics cause Kenzy proved all the doctors wrong last time."

W.T.F?

This all came across my email/social media today.
I can't even imagine what ANY of these situations would feel like.
All I know is I am hoping and thinking of those that are fighting and those that have been left behind.
I know it's set me back emotionally - thinking of all these wonderful people.
Makes one think.

There Is No Place I Rather Be... (LAMBEAU!!)

My aunts and uncles (and a couple cousins) are at Lambeau as I type this blog.
They are watching the greatest team ever: The Green Bay Packers.

In November my Grandpa passed away.
It was a little expected....
But it's never easy.
My Grandpa was a very intelligent man.
Loved his beer.
Loved his Packers.

He would always give us a dollar and walk us to the corner store when we visited in Texas.
We would buy candy cigarettes.
It wasn't frowned upon then... and they were yummy.

My mom and dad, her brothers and sisters, with their significant others (and a couple cousins), are at the game tonight to say "Goodbye", to my Grandpa.

I know he's happy that his kids are gathered together, in Green Bay, cheering on the Packers.

I hope the Packers take the win.
But if they don't... I still know the power behind the Frederick family, the memory of my Grandpa and the night game at Lambeau is one that my family at the game will remember and cherish forever.

I know, sitting on my couch in Iowa, that I will always remember it also.

I love you, family.
I love the Packers.
Lets do this! GO PACK GO!

A Few Random Things

To start out, I love my new job.
I notice so many things about kids.
How they act.
Behave.
Tell tall tales... constantly.
And pick their noses...constantly
I never thought I was a patient person, but I have proven myself wrong.
One of my students calls me Mrs. Crazy (or Mrs. Cray Cray - and it's just between us).
She thinks I'm so funny, silly and, well, crazy.
Which I like, because she still respects me, we have fun with her school work and we still follow all the rules.
Today I didn't feel the best and when taking her to the bus she looks at me and says,
"I know you said you don't feel good today, but I hope Mrs. Crazy is back on Monday, ok?"
And she left me with a big smile.
I'm making an impact.


I'm teaching Mary about the important things in life.
Need To Breathe, my favorite band.
We listen to it in the car and she likes most of the songs, sings a long to a lot of them.
It makes me happy.
We have started watching the first Harry Potter movie - and she is actually into it!
Loves all the magic, the mystery, the what if's...
I love that she likes it.
There are actually a lot of great life lessons in Harry Potter... besides just learning how to ride a broom and play quidditch.

She watched Captain America 2 and The Avengers... she thought Avengers was a little boring.
I am slowly, but surely converting her to a nerd.
And I'm SOOOO proud.

First Few Days of School

I started a new job this week helping 5.6 hours a day at Mary's elementary school.
I'm a Special Education Associate.
I help kids, one on one, or in the classroom, through out the day.
I am enjoying it.
My days go fast.
I get to help kids that need it.
And I'm surrounded by awesome people.
I won't get in to the in's and out's of what I do or who I help, but getting a smile or a thumbs up from one of my students is all the reward I need.

I noticed something on the first day of school that I thought was kind of comical.
You probably would notice it also if you looked at all the first day of school pictures.
Girls get dressed up in nice clothes, probably new, hair bows and fancy shoes.
Boys are in athletic shorts and Nike shirts.
Granted, they might be new, but it's so casual.
There was one GQ boy with a button up shirt under a nice sweater - but he was the only one.

Here is an example of what the boys look like the first day of school (image is not mine, I do not know these kids.)





Here are the girls: (again not my picture... not my kids)


*I'm not exaggerating...

It's also interesting to see how kids behave with each other.
I'm learning a lot and I really hope I do well at this position.
It's challenging.
It will be rewarding.


* I might be SLIGHTLY exaggerating.

The Belt - Update

As I said in a previous post, The Belt challenge got off to a good start.....then a weekend happened.
I sprained my ankle.
Mary was in the hospital.
I ate McDonalds.
It was gross....

Anywho...
We were able to find a really good deal on a treadmill and my dad helped me picked it up, with my ankle 'brace' on, and we put it in our basement.
I turn on a show, walk at an incline, at about a 3.5 pace.
I want to go faster, but need to be careful with the ankle; I would like to wear heels in the next few weeks and can't do that if the ankle is acting up.

I'm still paying attention to what I eat, and I notice a SMALL difference in how my pants are fitting.
I'm not going to lie.
The weekends kill me.
We go out to eat.
We drink.
If I could manage a 5 day a week good eating, walking on the treadmill, habit, I know I would start to see a difference, so that is my goal.
Baby steps to a healthier life style.
Baby steps on the treadmill due to my ankle.
Baby steps to buying that new belt I desperately need....

So I have....

So I have a husband that is pretty amazing.
And what I see/read on facebook is everyone's husband is pretty amazing.
I'm glad that is what most of my friends have.
There are also friends that I see that NEVER mention their husbands.
For whatever reason, that is what the choose to not post.

I, however, will brag about my husband until I'm unfriended by everyone.
Why?
Because he is amazing.
In November my husband let me quit my corporate job.
I got a part time job at my beautiful friends salon.
I made a lot less money.
I worked a lot less hours.
I got in a funk....
My husband however continued to climb up in his company and received a promotion that he longed for.
He worked for.
He deserves.

My husband....
He makes mistakes at times or gets overly passionate about things...
But in my eyes, he is perfect.....

He spent the last month and a half, 6 days a week, away from me.
Away from Mary.
To be in a play.
Not just any play.
A play about black men in the military.
About what they have had to make happen for themselves.
How hard they had to work to even be included in FIGHTING for the country that they wanted to fight for....
It's a beautiful, yet sad, and at the same time, so completely relevant in todays society, piece of work.

My husband....
He is brave.
Strong.
Loving.
Caring.
Devoted and loyal.

He plays a character in this play that even his mom said "that is not the man I raised"....
He plays his character to a T.
You love him.
But you hate him.

I have had friends and family show their support of Jerry in this play.
My Monthly Brunchly is going tomorrow.
My dear friend that I used to work with is going on Wednesday.
My family's going this weekend.
A group of us are going to the final show.

We are surrounded by loving, caring, supportive family and friends.
There are not enough words for me to explain how proud I am to have such an amazing man as my husband.

If you have not made it yet, or purchased your tickets yet, you should.
http://www.asoldiersplay.com/

The Belt = 0; The Curb = 1; The Hospital = 2 nights

Ohhhh what a long strange trip it's been....

Last week... my first week of  The Belt 'challenge', I did fairly well. I was more mindful of what I ate and I went walking around the neighborhood. Nothing crazy, but more than I had been doing, but still, I should have done more.
On Saturday I went to Ankeny Unplugged, an all day concert in Ankeny (duh), with my friend Niki.
It was a nice setting, not busy at all..., ok music for the most part, but what was really good was the conversation.
We got there about 12:30ish... we left about 5:30ish.
When we left we walked to Firetrucker, a near by brewery where we had a free drink ticket.
At one point I attempted to turn in my flip flops, on a curb..... ankle bent one way, leg stayed straight.
O.M.G. I have never sprained anything in my life, but mother f***** it hurt like a b****.
I am a trooper though...I mean Niki and I made it to the brewery for our free drink (11% beer that tastes like a Moscow mule, served in a Moscow Mule cup).
I was in a bit of pain, but not horrible... the night went on and all was well.
(The Belt = 0, The Curb = 1)

Mary's 8th birthday party was on Sunday evening at a near by park.
My ankle hurt, but I was set and ready for Mary's birthday party.
Thing was she didn't feel the greatest, had a slight fever and didn't want any food.
She wanted to lay around.
Anyone that knows Mary knows that her laying around is not something that happens.
We moved her party to her mom's house so she would be out of the heat and near a place she could rest if she needed to and she was fine for some of it.
Then... not so fine.
She threw up.
The party ended after most people ate pizza and cake and she did have enough energy to open some presents.
I went home to ice my ankle, Jerry went to play practice and Mary was with her mom and step-dad, still not feeling well.
About an hour later Amanda (Mary's mom) called and said she was throwing up and was running a temp of 103. "We are taking her to the ER, do you want to come?"
"Yes!"
They came and got me and we went to the ER....
Time went by, tests were run, IV's, meds.... etc.
Jerry came up after play practice (keep in mind he is the greatest dad ever and I told him to stay at the play as she was doing fine and we were totally going to be going home soon).
THEN....she was admitted to the hospital.
She was so sick.
Mary has a VERY HIGH pain tolerance.
This girl is bruised.
Jumps off things constantly.
Falls off things constantly.
Get's up and does it all again.
It takes A LOT to cause her REAL pain.

 

She was not her.

Mary is spunky and always on the go.

She's witty and wonderful and challenging (for me).

She's my daughter... my baby.

And there were a couple of times, sitting next to her when she was calling out in pain, that her mom and I were close to tears, if not crying, because we couldn't do anything to help.

She is the only child I have and she is my baby, even if she didn't come from me....

 

On a side note:

Jerry, and I were there.

Mary's mom Amanda and stepdad Marcus were there.

Most of the time the 4 of us were in the room.

Certain times nurses and doctors asked about the family dynamic since us 4 were there and we get along.

They were surprised, all of them, that we were ex's and steps.

That we got along so well.

At first we thought it was kind of comical.

Thought we'd say one was the mom, one was the grandma.

Thought we'd say one of the guys was Mormon and had sister wives.

And then we realized....

We.Were.Abnormal.

No one understood we were ex's and steps... because we all get along so well.

It's sad that WE are abnormal.

That the fact that we put the child's happiness before hurt feelings or bad breakups.

I have gone out with my husbands ex wife for a beer.

We talk about our daughter.

His ex has always been good to me.

Welcomed me.

We have always put Mary's happiness ahead of petty differences and we always will.

We may not look at things the same, may not have the same household or be anything a like, but we have an (almost) 8 year old that we want to have a happy, healthy childhood.

You find that common ground and the petty shit that divorced couples fight over is just so selfish.

 

 

Mary was at the hospital Sunday night till Tuesday afternoon.

No clear answer what was wrong.

Drugs, antibiotics, she eventually started to feel better.

She even helped the nurse take her IV thingy out... (yes that is the technical term).

 

 

And finally, we were able to go home.

Mary was so happy and so were we.

There is a lot of stress that comes with a child in the hospital.

I can not even imagine how REALLY sick kids and families handle it.

She was poked, had an IV, blood drawn... plus bandaids from all her 'normal' injuries...

 

But she is tough.

She is amazing.

She is sooooo loved.

So really The Hospital didn't win this round.

Mary did.

Mary = Amazing