Distractions and Celebrations

Been really distracted lately; and busy to say the least..can you tell? 

Work has been crazy--3 back to back live events in 3 weeks.  Trying to squeeze in my responsibilities as a mom and a wife is starting to take it's toll.  Every time I sit down to write a new post, I get writer's block and I can't think of anything worthy to write about.

For the last few weeks we've been planning a surprise party for my uncle Jimmy.  He has a Martial Arts studio and was just promoted to a 7th Degree Black Belt.  In the Martial Arts world, that's a big deal because there is only four 7th Degree Black Belts in the World Tang Soo Do Association...and one of them is my uncle! There is only one 8th degree black belt and only one 9th degree Black Belt, the Grand Master.  In Tang Soo Do, there are only 9 degrees since they believe 10 represents perfection and nobody is perfect.

So my uncle Jim DeBaca was just promoted and since none of us could make it back to North Carolina to witness it, we decided to celebrate here and throw him a big party.  It's hard keeping a secret from him when there are so many people and dynamics involved so I thought for sure he would find out.  We invited all of his friends, family, and martial arts students.  We had a band, actually his band Amnesia played with a substitute drummer.  There was a lot of scheming involved and the timing was really tight but it all worked out and we ended up with about 85 people here for dinner and live music.  People danced, drank and his daughter put on a beautiful and touching slide show with some songs from Rocky.  Yes, I cried.

He pulled up and everyone was noisily waiting inside.  There was a lot of shussshhhhing going on but it's hard to shush a room full of adults.  No one was listening.

We had the curtains drawn, even though there were a ton of cars parked all around, he thought they were here for my Jim's decoy birthday (which is actually in February).  So he came to the door and we all yelled surprise, and he just kind of looked at us--smiling, not really sure what just happened.  Then he started recognizing people from the gym and his friends and then he saw the big portrait of him and the Grand Master from his promotion and he finally got it.

S U R P R I S E !!!

The party was a lot of fun.  I love my uncle and I was so happy to do something for him since he's done so much for us. And it feels good to have a party for someone, celebrating them NOW instead of at a funeral.  That way you know that the person knows how much you honor them NOW, in life, not just after they have gone and they can enjoy their own party and not have to wait until they die to get one.

My uncle Jim saved my life when I was four.  I was running around the swimming pool with a towl over my head and fell in the deep end and sunk to the bottom like a rock with a towl over it's head.  He dove in and saved me. Maybe I wouldn't be here today if it wasn't for him.  He was in the right place at the right time.

Uncle Jimmy and Mom

But, I always stress out before a party, which tells me maybe I shouldn't be having parties, but I like it once it all comes together.  It's just the day of where I get a little anxious because there is never enough time in the day, no matter how prepared I am, I am always scrambling around at the last minute with a bunch of things that never got done.  But does anyone else know they didn't get done.  No.  But I know.

I popped a Valium around 4:00pm and chased it with a glass of Merlot.  I was so keyed up from the stress it didn't effect me AT ALL.  Neither did the Margaritas and shots of tequila. I was invincible, even large amounts of alcohol could not penetrate my level of stress.

I also stress about the Doodle.  What to do with him before and during the party.  This time, Jim was going to keep an eye on him, but that's a pretty big job--and it's hard and exhausting to watch him when he's in full blown overstimulated autism mode.  He doesn't listen and does a lot of taking off.  You cannot, I repeat cannot, stop for five seconds and talk to anyone.  It's not possible.  He takes off and you have to chase him.  He kept taking off out the front door--his new obsession is opening car doors, going into the driver's seat and turning everything on.  He likes to flip down the mirror and check himself out and his favorite thing is the garage door opener.  We just had to start locking our cars and we just had to completely unhook the wires that open the garage door because he goes a little crazy with the opening and shutting.  When he saw all the many cars here for the party it was like Christmas to him.  He couldn't help himself.  He went from car to car to car trying every door--setting off car alarms in the process.

Who knows, maybe he'll be a Valet one day.
Would you let this kid park your car?

He loved the band.  The music was loud and he loves loud music.  There was a stage that he was drawn too--all he wanted to do was charge the band. 

Amnesia

The first couple of times he ran up to the singer was kind of cute, then it got annoying.  And tiring. You'd think oh, well, just let him go up there, what's he going to hurt? Uhm.  The little destroyer of all things was on a mission to start knocking crap over and unhooking amps and microphones.  I could see it by the look in his eye.

Jim watched him for a while and then I got a turn. 

Don't I look calm cool and collected? Maybe the narcotics and alcohol helped take the edge off a little bit after all.

One thing I learned after having this party is that if I ever, ever, ever have another party again I will most definitely be getting a baby sitter to watch the Doodle off site so that I can relax and enjoy myself.  The party hater Jim would be happy if I never had another party again as long as I lived. He thinks parties -- for any reason are stupid.  But that's another post.

Jet Lag

So glad to be home.  I've got jet lag, but not the kind of jet lag from traveling you might think...the kind you get from no sleep because you're sleeping at the airport.  Well, not in the airport, but at a hotel right next to the airport.  By 2:30 am, I laid there counting airplanes taking off and landing--I was up to 24.  I had to work at a live event for my boss this weekend and was actually looking forward to spending the night in a nice hotel room with pay preview, room service and a big, giant king size bed all to myself with no sweaty little head laying on my neck all night, waking up with a mouth full of the Doodle's hair in my mouth and a wet bed at 4:00 am.  I thought about how fun it would be to go out and enjoy a nice dinner by myself, find the closest Ross or Marshalls and maybe have a glass of wine and chase it with a couple of Tylenol PMs, come back to the hotel room have a nice hot bath, watch a movie and pull the black out curtains for one heck of a night's sleep. 

No such luck.

The event set up on Saturday night was a nightmare and was completely wrong at the hotel. 

I spent the night doing manual labor moving tables and chairs around a meeting room for 3 hours.

I then had to find the nearest Target to get my boss a new Stop Watch.

I completely missed dinner other than some cashews I found in my purse and a Pop Tart from the vending machine.

No fine wine.

No room service.

No Tylenol pm because I had to wake up at 6:00am and I was afraid if I took it, I wouldn't wake up on time.

And then there were the airplanes.

Oh so many airplanes.

Instead of counting sheep, I counted airplanes.

I laid there as the planes wizzed by wondering where could all these people be going?  It was a bit of a reminder to me of how little I travel. I can't remember the last time I was on a plane bound for somewhere.

Then the glass-half-empty in me kept thinking that one of these planes was going down and hard by way of the 5th floor at the Clarion Hotel at the San Francisco airport. I had pangs of jealousy that Jim was snuggled up in our bed with both of our son's getting kicked in the back all night long and that he got to leisurely wake up with them and watch cartoons and drink his coffee.

My alarm went off at 5:58 am.  I didn't even bother hitting the snooze button. I was already wide awake.  Maybe I've jumped to conclusions with Jim assuming how fabulous it was to stay out of town and away from the kids for a few nights...now I know what he means when he says how hard it is and how much he misses the kids.

I really missed my family.

There really is no place like home.

Reality

13.5 hours away today. I got a taste of what it feels like to commute again and really work away from home and my kids all day long. My boss had an event today at a hotel in Marin that I had to work. It was a really long day and when I'm away like that, I really miss the the boys.

Then Jim texted me a picture of Jimmy and his new hair cut and for some strange reason I got all emotional and it made me cry. I couldn't stop crying. I can't believe how old he looks now, he's definitely growing up and there's nothing I can do about it.

I wish I could freeze time.

All I could think about today was how I don't know how I could work full time--and commute outside of the house. I've been really lucky and really spoiled being able to work from home. This morning I had to get up at 6:00 am and take a shower and put on real clothes...pants with a zipper; not elastic sweats or jammies. I had to put on a bra on and I couldn't wear my ball cap.

I know, someone call me a whambulance! Poor me. I'm speaking Whinese...

I guess my point is that it is soooooo good to be HOME with my family and I have one more day left in this weekend so I'm pretty happy about that. I even missed the ugly little flea infested dog.

Worth Every Last Bite

The Doodle loves to take baths. All you have to do is say, "Do you want to take a Bath?" And he immediately shrieks and tries to take off his pants. Here's a picture of him sporting nothing but his helmet getting ready for a bath.

No garage sales today. I had to work. I look so forward to my Saturday morning coffee and perusing through other people's crap for treasures. So I had to go down to Marin tonight and do some work related things and I brought my Mom to help me and she took me to dinner afterward at The Cheese Cake Factory. We officially decided that when we hit the lottery or she hits another Jack Pot up at one of her Indian Casino's that we are going to be opening a Cheese Cake Factory here in our city. Hold your applause please. We even know where we are going to put it. In the old Gottschalks space--plenty of parking.

Of course we were too full to order dessert so we both declined the Cheese Cake. Can you even believe it? But then as we made our way to the door and saw all of those incredible cheesecakes calling out to us from the glass case, we stopped and bought $30 worth of cheese cake to-go. Waiting for our little slices of heaven to be boxed up, I noticed all of the calorie contents listed on each cheese cakes. The calories were over 1,000 calories on most all of the decadent perfection. Surely they meant that many calories for the whole cheese cake right? Can you really eat 1,079 calories in one slice of cheese cake? Suddenly I felt a little sick about it. I was wondering how many Weight Watchers points would be in a 1,000 calorie slice? I tried asking myself what Tori Spelling would do? And then they put a gorgeous and generous dollop of their fantastic whipped cream on the side. The whole way home I kept wondering if the whipped cream calories were included in that very large number. It's really great that the marketing geniuses at the Cheese Cake Factory got together and decided to list the calories on the cakes themselves. How very Jenny Craig of them. But, and I have a big BUTT, why ruin the fun?

So the cheese cake made it home safely without being devoured in my car. And I proceeded to pace myself and only eat half of the chocolate mousse cheese cake. Which means, I only had about 500 calories. Jim ate the rest.

The Doodle only had a couple of head drop seizures today. But the undigested Depakote sprinkles are still showing up in places they should not be if you get my drift.

I spend so little time doing normal things now that tonight when I tried actually having a conversation on the phone with someone, a real live grown up, it was another eye opener for me that our life has forever been changed. Simple things like talking on the phone are no longer easy to manage when you have a Doodle screaming, crying, wanting to be held, jumping on the bed, torturing the cat and getting scratched in the mouth. Luckily this person is very Special and I know that she completely understands.