Words to LIVE by....

"To laugh often and much; to win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children...to leave the world a better place...to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

My UN-Love Affair with Math.

My oldest daughter needed some Algebra review over the summer...
As I printed out worksheets for her...I got that old icky feeling again.
Math and I are not good friends...we are hardly even acquaintances anymore.
It all started with Addition in first grade...which was fine...
I love apples, pears, and oranges....and I can add them together, subtract them...I am comfortable with fruit salad.
Then the Multiplication Tables came into the room---and blew me away.
Remember those 'timed multiplication table tests'?
(aka: 'Instant Anxiety attack for a 9 year old...cloaked in that stupid piece of paper.')
I would get sick to my stomach, my head would ache, and the 'tick-tocking' of that stupid stop watch! OH MY GOD!
(I would have rather burned my coveted Wacky Packages than do that test.)
Then, the ultimate 'gut grabber' was the smacking down of the pencils as everyone else finished...scooching their chairs back as I sweated through the third of four columns to still be finished...Mrs. Mack would call 'time'...and it was like a slow mo action shot from a film...'NNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO'!!!!
I did (finally) learn my multiplication tables after getting really tired of adding up 7+7+7+7+7+7+7...etc.
Fractions were friendly to me because I could visualize the apples, pears and oranges divided in sections---though I don't know that all my fruity doodles were all that appreciated on my tests.
Decimals sucked.
Long Division was friendly.
My kids learned some kind of weird division in school, and I gave up trying to help them with homework.
(Bring on the Creative Writing, or a Pilgrim Village built from Popsicle sticks! I'm the 'Diorama Diva!)
I gave up a Study hall in 9th grade so I could sit through 2 simultaneous bells of Algebra with Mr. Rullman---King of the Levi flat front corduroys.
He even dragged my desk (with me sitting in it) to the board one day when I did not understand something----(THANKS for THAT Rodney!)
Oh, yes...and then there was Geometry with Mr. Everheart...a guy that no one was ever sure if he was not high...or something.
(And thank you Julio for making the 'bong noises' in to your canned Coke during class...you smelled like pot, and the giggling did not help my fleeting concentration.)
I always miraculously 'forgot' my notebook, or geometry book...and would ask to be excused so I could 'go to my locker'....(and flirt with the senior boys on the way back....okok! I admit it!)
*Note: another way to get 'excused' from his class would be to clutch my purse, and ask to go to the Ladies room...you know...'female emergencies' totally freak out male teachers! hahaha!
So all my shenanigans earned me a spot in Summer School at First Colonial HS...aka: Surfer-Boys-A-Go-Go'...geometry was easier there...and I passed the class.
(Although, that was the summer Chris Hearn slammed his 1978 Bronco (with a lift) into my Chevette...and I subsequently slammed my head in to the steering wheel---2 reconstructive septum surgeries later, I am OK...thanks.)
I took Algebra 2---twice...my Junior and Senior years...nice.
(and thank you to all my Physics tutors who helped me graduate---my payback was all the awesome illustrations I did for you of the dead pig in Biology---so, we are even!)
I actually made it through 6 years of college without taking Math!
(I did have to take Biology for 'Non-Science Majors' my Senior year---and thank you to the professor who passed me---I still love you.Glad we had that talk, and you thought I was 'charming'.)
I can say this, though.
I graduated with a BFA in Fashion Design...and I can measure the heck outta some fabric...fractions and all.
I can also tell you how many yards you need to reupholster a sofa...
(20 yrds. depending on the repeat)

'What I did on Summer Vacation...'

July 2010, I took my 12 year old son and my oldest daughter (for her 15th birthday present) to see Train and John Mayer.
It was my son's first concert...my daughter's second.
(I took her to see The Jonas Brothers/Demi Lavatto a few years back...I know! The things we endure for our kids, right?)
The show was at an outdoor amphitheatre.
Of course, it had not rained here in central North Carolina in, oh, say, 45 days---and it POURED that day!!!
My daughter hijacked my uber cool North Face jacket, and I wore the 'nerdy mom raincoat'---again, sacrificing my evaporating 'coolness' so my girl would feel good.
When we first got to the concert venue,of course there was a huge mass of people...my girl stuck close by as we navigated the long lines to get in.
Once we cleared the gates, she was walking quickly ahead of me by a good six paces...occasionally looking back---a juxtaposition of teenage 'independence' and her fear of being 'abducted'.
(yes, I am one of the moms that tells her kids to stick close to me in crowds 'because someone could steal you and I'll never see you again'...so far, I have not lost any of my three kids!)
My son always sticks close to me, so, he was not a worry.
He was, however, embarrassed that I took off my flipflops and was walking barefoot in the wet grass...'MOM! Put your shoes back on!'...I explained to him it was no big deal---and would he rather me wipe out walking down the hill? (haha!)...plus, the grass felt really good on my feet.
It was a warm summer rain as we rocked out to Train...one of the hazards of 'lawn seats' I'm afraid...we were soaked!
My son and I enjoyed 'people watching'....
...and as with everything, it turned in to a 'learning experience' the later it got, and the more 'happy' the people around us got...
Nothing like some sloppy drunk girl hanging off her boyfriend and pawing at his crotch to start a conversation about 'how NOT to act at a concert'...geez.
(My 15 year old and her friends were giggling and their eyes were as big as saucers...I was embarrassed for the drunk/pawing girl...she looked like an idiot.)
Once it got dark, John Mayer started playing...and suddenly, the air was quite 'fragrant'...
(again, another 'learning experience' that I was glad to be there to explain...!!!)
I am open and honest with my kids, and like to address things head on...so, we covered 'PDA' and 'over indulgence' issues. (check that off the 'awkward things I need to talk to my kids about' list!)
BOTH my kids were absolutely HORR-I-FIED that I was actually dancing to the music...and 'OMG'---SINGING!
My son was just irritated, and my daughter kept looking back at me (from 10 yrds. away) giving me the 'stink eye', eye roll and mouthing the word 'STOP!'...She's got talent, yes, she does...to be able to do all THREE at ONCE! (I'm so proud.)
It almost became a game of 'freeze dance' because I would stop every time she turned around...haha! Seriously, I wish my kids would not feel so 'boxed in'...and just let go and dance! (I mean, no one could look as idiotic as 'drunk/pawing girl'!)
...and I was not doing freaky hippy stuff, ending with 'jazz hands' like the dude beside me...(now, THAT was embarrassing!)
All in all, we had a really good time, and laughed a LOT---which is the point! I am hoping my kids enjoyed the concert---and the free 'public education'...haha!
'Life is not about waiting
for the storm to pass...
It's about learning to Dance in the Rain!'

Cotton is Cotton, yall.

I was listening to the View this morning---midst all the packing boxes and my entertaining of Little One...
They did a segment on ways to 'save' on clothing costs.
(Hasselbeck, with her glossy stiff lips and $400 shoes had her typical 'I think I smell something foul, here' look on her face...but I digress.)
OK. So the big 'secret' was shopping at TJMaxx and Marshall's...
'These shorts would cost $160.00 in a department store, we got them just for $19.99 at TJMaxx!'
(Big ooo's and ahhh's from the audience...)
Seriously?
Who pays $160 for a pair of shorts?
Maybe it's my way of thinking. (Even if I was swimming in cash, I would not spend that.)
I am a Fashion/Costume Designer by degree/trade.
I have studied textiles, tailoring...I can sew. I know what the cost is to produce a garment vs the mark up from retailers...I can spot a well made garment from a mile away. I can also tell you what the fiber content is by touching the fabric...(yes, I am a 'toucher'.)
Cotton is Cotton, yall.
A $4.00 Tshirt is a $4.00 Tshirt...slap a spiffy label on it and suddenly that T is now $45.00. (my case and point is the whole Abercrombie hype...or whatever your 'label' is. My oldest daughter would save up her babysitting money to buy tissue weight cotton tees...on sale...for $25.00. My 'guestimate' is that shirt cost $2.00 to make---overseas---and the companies are making a killing with the mark up. Even the 'label' is marked up. It is a 3 inch piece of printed ribbon---costing maybe 10 cents...and lest we not forget, the treatment of workers in overseas factories, fair trade, the outsourcing of American textile jobs---but that discussion is for another day.)
I have seen people, first hand, who will wear something that looks like 'poo' on them...and brag '...and it's Armani'...(you still look like 'poo', darlin---just sayin'.)
Granted, I will buy a garment if it is made well, and of good quality fabric (I do believe in 'investment pieces')...but never at full retail prices...
I guess...maybe...my point is...you are what you wear...and I'd rather be 100% cotton and fairly made---and purchased. (wait...that sounded bad! hahaha!)

The Apology from 'A Fish Called Wanda'...

(One never knows when these words will come in quite handy....)

"I am...really, really sorry. I take it back unreservedly.
...I do.
I offer a complete and utter retraction...The imputation was totally without basis in fact...and was in no way fair comment and was motivated purely by malice...
...and I deeply regret any distress that my comments may have caused you....or your family... and I hereby undertake not to repeat any such slander...at any time...in the future."

(Of course...it must be said with a British accent...with....the appropriate pauses!)

Honor the Fallen

~~This Memorial Day~~
MAY GOD BLESS THIS AIRLINE CAPTAIN:

He writes: My lead flight attendant came to me and said, "We have an H.R. on this flight." (H.R. stands for human remains.) "Are they military?" I asked.

'Yes', she said.
'Is there an escort?' I asked.
'Yes, I already assigned him a seat'.
'Would you please tell him to come to the flight deck. You can board him early," I said..

A short while later, a young army sergeant entered the flight deck. He was the image of the perfectly dressed soldier. He introduced himself and I asked him about his soldier. The escorts of these fallen soldiers talk about them as if they are still alive and still with us.

'My soldier is on his way back to Virginia,' he said. He proceeded to answer my questions, but offered no words.

I asked him if there was anything I could do for him and he said no. I told him that he had the toughest job in the military and that I appreciated the work that he does for the families of our fallen soldiers. The first officer and I got up out of our seats to shake his hand. He left the flight deck to find his seat.

We completed our preflight checks, pushed back and performed an uneventful departure. About 30 minutes into our flight I received a call from the lead flight attendant in the cabin. 'I just found out the family of the soldier we are carrying, is on board', she said. She then proceeded to tell me that the father, mother, wife and 2-year old daughter were escorting their son, husband, and father home. The family was upset because they were unable to see the container that the soldier was in before we left. We were on our way to a major hub at which the family was going to wait four hours for the connecting flight home to Virginia .

The father of the soldier told the flight attendant that knowing his son was below him in the cargo compartment and being unable to see him was too much for him and the family to bear. He had asked the flight attendant if there was anything that could be done to allow them to see him upon our arrival. The family wanted to be outside by the cargo door to watch the soldier being taken off the airplane.. I could hear the desperation in the flight attendants voice when she asked me if there was anything I could do.. 'I'm on it', I said. I told her that I would get back to her.

Airborne communication with my company normally occurs in the form of e-mail like messages. I decided to bypass this system and contact my flight dispatcher directly on a secondary radio. There is a radio operator in the operations control center who connects you to the telephone of the dispatcher. I was in direct contact with the dispatcher.. I explained the situation I had on board with the family and what it was the family wanted. He said he understood and that he would get back to me.

Two hours went by and I had not heard from the dispatcher. We were going to get busy soon and I needed to know what to tell the family. I sent a text message asking for an update. I saved the return message from the dispatcher and the following is the text:

'Captain, sorry it has taken so long to get back to you. There is policy on this now and I had to check on a few things. Upon your arrival a dedicated escort team will meet the aircraft. The team will escort the family to the ramp and plane side. A van will be used to load the remains with a secondary van for the family. The family will be taken to their departure area and escorted into the terminal where the remains can be seen on the ramp. It is a private area for the family only. When the connecting aircraft arrives, the family will be escorted onto the ramp and plane side to watch the remains being loaded for the final leg home. Captain, most of us here in flight control are veterans. Please pass our condolences on to the family. Thanks.'

I sent a message back telling flight control thanks for a good job. I printed out the message and gave it to the lead flight attendant to pass on to the father. The lead flight attendant was very thankful and told me, 'You have no idea how much this will mean to them.'

Things started getting busy for the descent, approach and landing. After landing, we cleared the runway and taxied to the ramp area. The ramp is huge with 15 gates on either side of the alleyway. It is always a busy area with aircraft maneuvering every which way to enter and exit. When we entered the ramp and checked in with the ramp controller, we were told that all traffic was being held for us.

'There is a team in place to meet the aircraft', we were told. It looked like it was all coming together, then I realized that once we turned the seat belt sign off, everyone would stand up at once and delay the family from getting off the airplane. As we approached our gate, I asked the copilot to tell the ramp controller we were going to stop short of the gate to make an announcement to the passengers. He did that and the ramp controller said, 'Take your time.'

I stopped the aircraft and set the parking brake. I pushed the public address button and said, 'Ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking I have stopped short of our gate to make a special announcement. We have a passenger on board who deserves our honor and respect. His Name is Private XXXXXX, a soldier who recently lost his life. Private XXXXXX is under your feet in the cargo hold. Escorting him today is Army Sergeant XXXXXXX. Also, on board are his father, mother, wife, and daughter. Your entire flight crew is asking for all passengers to remain in their seats to allow the family to exit the aircraft first. Thank you.'

We continued the turn to the gate, came to a stop and started our shutdown procedures. A couple of minutes later I opened the cockpit door. I found the two forward flight attendants crying, something you just do not see. I was told that after we came to a stop, every passenger on the aircraft stayed in their seats, waiting for the family to exit the aircraft.

When the family got up and gathered their things, a passenger slowly started to clap his hands. Moments later more passengers joined in and soon the entire aircraft was clapping. Words of 'God Bless You', I'm sorry, thank you, be proud, and other kind words were uttered to the family as they made their way down the aisle and out of the airplane. They were escorted down to the ramp to finally be with their loved one.

Many of the passengers disembarking thanked me for the announcement I had made. They were just words, I told them, I could say them over and over again, but nothing I say will bring back that brave soldier.

I respectfully ask that all of you reflect on this event and the sacrifices that millions of our men and women have made to ensure our freedom and safety in these United States of AMERICA .

Foot note:
As a Viet Nam Veteran I can only think of all the veterans including the ones that rode below the deck on their way home and how they were treated. When I read things like this I am proud that our country has not turned their backs on our soldiers returning from the various war zones today and give them the respect they so deserve.

I know every one who has served their country who reads this will have tears in their eyes, including me.

Prayer chain for our Military... Don't break it!

Please send this on after a short prayer.. Prayer for our soldiers Don't break it!

Prayer:
'Lord, hold our troops in your loving hands. Protect them as they protect us. Bless them and their families for the selfless acts they perform for us in our time of need. Amen..'

Prayer Request: When you receive this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our troops around the world.

'I got mine...go get your own...LOSER!'

I am tired of the attitude...the 'holier than thou' raised eyebrows...the nonexistent compassion for those who really need help with health care costs.
These people who are fortunate enough to HAVE affordable health insurance looking down their noses at those of us who don't...through no fault of our own.
We are all uninsured ticking time bombs walking around...having been laid off a good paying job that had benefits...praying to God we don't get something terminal, break a limb, or get hurt in an accident.

'everyone can get health care! Those people who want reform want a handout from the government...tsk. tsk....' the suburban housewife says on her way to play tennis with her gal pals, and eat chicken salad by the pool afterwards.
'those people just want socialized medicine---that ain't American...' says the redneck in his American flag shirt, chewin his Skoal, leanin against is uber truck---'ain't she purrty?'
'ohhhh...you don't have insurance?' says the perky receptionist with a pseudo caring look,'I'll be right back...' As she disappears behind door # 1...reappearing from door #2...hands me my medicaid card between two of her really nicely manicured fake nails...says 'we don't take Medicaid patients.'
(ok...that was all very stereotypical...and I know I will tick somebody off...however, I fall in to their stereotype of 'losers who want to mooch off the system'.)

My point: My child is SICK!
I just want help for her---right NOW!

(and for the record: No...I do NOT want a handout...and I believe in doing my part, paying my fair share...and helping others whenever I can.)

Yesterday I called the 'caregiver' listed on Mia's medicaid card...
Turns out they won't see her because 'her files were transferred to another practice, so, she would be considered a new patient'...
(she has been seeing them since she was born, and I had to transfer her when my H got laid off because they would not see her without insurance.)
I called the place her records were transferred to...got her an appointment today. (yay!)
We arrive on time...my baby is feverish, coughing and obviously not feeling well.
I go and check in...
'ummm....we can't take this Medicaid card because we are not listed as the primary practice...'
(HUH?)
I ask how long it takes to get the switch done---a phone call? Fax? 15 minutes?
'...Thirty days...'
Oh my GOD! I could start out on foot---WALK there, carrying my sick child--- and get it done faster than that!
They suggested I go to an Urgent Care place 'because their out of pocket expense will be less...'
OK.
I pack sick child back in to car...drive across town to Urgent Care place...
I presented the Medicaid card, checked in---again---and we go sit and wait...for an HOUR.
We finally get back to see the Doc...and wait another 30 minutes....
Doc spends 5 minutes with her...writes a script for antibiotics---(well, DUH! No surprise.)
We wait some MORE for the paperwork to process...and I get the bill...
'ok...you owe $317 for todays visit...'
(WHAAAATTTT?)
I rarely 'go off'...but I did...stealing myself not to pass out...while sick baby is whithering some more...
Long rant short: I paid $20 and told them to bill me the rest....and I got all the names and numbers of anyone and everyone I could call, email, etc...fighting back tears of total frustration.
At this point, we had been at this for 3 hours...and sick baby was getting worse.
I got her meds...carrying her the whole time through the pharmacy...finally arrive home where my little girl literally passed out on the sofa...I barely managed to get the meds in her before she was asleep like a log.
I go in to 'squeaky wheel mode'...
As I am preparing myself for an afternoon of phone calls and being put on hold...my phone rings.
It's the office manager at the Urgent Care...sheepishly apologizing...it was a 'clerical' error.
Turns out, since they knew I had Medicaid for my daughter, they could not charge me anymore than what Medicaid would be...
Seriously?
There went 3 hours of my life I will never get back...
However,the better news is my little girl is resting...and I may just go take a nap myself. I am pooped!