Crab Protection Services, that is. 

The girls and I recently had a discussion about CPS, and what happens when they get involved and how important it is to look for signs of something that isn't right - because sometimes, small signs that a kid exhibits could be telling a bigger story.

Andra bought red clawed crabs for pets.  They are pretty boring pets, and they are wily, and try and escape so they require a little vigilance.  We haven't seen the crabs in a long, long time and I was thinking they were dead.  So this morning, I went in, and there, right in view under the castle was the big clawed crab.  And then, on top of it, was another big clawed crab and I cried out "Look!  Andra!  the little clawed crab's claws grew in!  It must have been a baby!"  And ha ha ha we laughed in joy, the crabs weren't dead.

So I pulled out the filter to rinse it, and HELLO!  small clawed crab is hanging out in the filter.  I have found SCC there before, and I cluck and chastise the dumb crab for getting stuck in the filter.  We never see SCC swimming around, and SCC doesn't come out to eat.  Oh!  I think.  She was having babies, that is why we haven't seen her.

But this afternoon when I came home, I once again went to check on our mysteriously growing flock of crabs, and hmmmm..  There was LCC.  There was a shell and various dismembered parts of LCC Jr.  And in the filter? SCC.

Maybe, I haven't been paying attention to the signs, and SCC is hiding out in the filter to avoid getting EATEN. 

I think I should get a good night's sleep and wake up tomorrow with some fresh eyes.  There is no telling what is going on around me that I have missed...

P.S.  Part of what is going on around me?  Kids.  Making out at lunch at Jr. High.  I went to pick Andra up for an orthodontist appointment and HELLO!  had to ask the make out crew to step aside and let me by.  Yikes!

P.S.S.  I know after an interminable absence, you expected something meaningful.  Well, maybe you need to look around too...

It's a little reminiscent of a Lione Richie song, but Hello, Old Friend!  Hello!

I haven't seen you in a while.  I have all kinds of draft posts I started and got bored with, or overanalyzed, or just didn't have the energy to finish.  Today, when I went to type something into my browser bar, my own blog didn't come up when I started with "blog.  "   Meaning that it has been so long, even I am not interested in myself anymore.

What happened?  I guess 9 and 11 happened.  And a job, that is more demanding all the time.  And a harsh realization that I don't have much to say right now.  All that happened. 

I am hoping that with the start of summer vacation, which begins in a shocking 4, yes FOUR days! that I will no longer have 3 dance practices in the evening after work, and we will have no girl scouts on the other weeknight evening, and we will maybe be HOME, and I might be able to make actual dinners, as Grace puts it.  Maybe I can finish that book I wrote 45,000 words on last fall, and maybe once Phil and I finish our current "dead people things" purge, we will have a little more room in our lives. 

Phil observed last week that we rarely see friends or do anything, in part because our stuff takes so much time to maintain.  We need to change that, and unfortunately, there is only one way to get to the other side of the mountain of crap - it is to shovel it out the door and make it someone else's crap.

Our back yard is lovely right now, with all our plants filling in and roses blooming, and we should be having barbecues and drinking slushy alcoholic beverages with all of you, yet we can't squeeze it in between dance practices and recitals and already scheduled trips. 

Summer seems like the perfect time to recapture a little of my zippy spirit, so maybe you will see a little more of me.  

If you're lucky.

We have crossed into the land where when we go to weddings?  They aren't our friends' weddings.  They are our friends' CHILDRENS' weddings.

So last month we went to a lovely wedding in Scottsdale - Ken and Peggy's daughter's wedding.  The weather was perfect, the setting was lovely, and the bride was stunning (and ridiculously calm and relaxed if I may say so).  We were seated at the "old friends" table with some fun people, and dinner was lovely.

It really got interesting, however, when the dancing started. 

You can look around a dance floor, especially at a young person's wedding, and immediately place a couple in their era based on their dance style.  There was the end of the 70's couple, who had this nice jitterbug, swing style.  There were the youngest crowd with their grinding, and shaking and shimmying.

And then there was us.  Phil - the Footloose 80's revolution, and me - the Depeche Mode disaffected girl dancing with no arms.  You could pick us out a mile away. Of course, once we realized it, our styles became much more pronounced. 

The funny thing, is that for the first time in a long time, I was okay with that.  We had a great time dancing in our respective eras, we slept in late, and read by the pool in the morning for a few hours.  Turns out, getting old isn't so bad.

Some things take discipline.  Some days I am good at discipline.  Some days I am not, so much.  Writing is sometimes just a pleasure, but these days, it seems like a discipline.  Same for parenting, and work and housework.  I am constantly working on each of those.

One thing, however, that doesn't take a lot of discipline (at least for me) is my marriage.  Maybe it is because Phil has disciplined ME, but no matter.  In spite of dire warnings in every possible horoscope, match making book or zodiac, Phil and I just work together. Today, Phil and I have been married for 18 years, and I have nearly known him half my life.  It shouldn't feel odd (knowing him half my life), but it does.  It was a low key anniversary, but that is okay.  Fifteen, Twenty, those should be Momentous Occasions, but 18 just feels like a comfortable milestone.

We are going on a family vacation shortly, which I am so greatly looking foward to.  I hope to lie around, hang out together, and be just the slightest bit bored (in between adventures, of course).  We can spend a little time together, getting used to our changing family, - of young ladies growing into young women and having quite different needs.  Getting through the next few years will most definately take discipline, on all our parts. 

“Without discipline, there's no life at all.”  Katherine Hepburn.

In probably 1985, my Mom, my Dad and I went on spring break to Kino Bay, Mexico.  Saturday, I got a Mexican orange soda at the international market, and drinking it brought back memories of that trip.  Some days, if you asked me if I had ever been to Kino Bay, I might have forgotten, because I was a teenager, and the trip was deliciously boring.

And strangely enough, with the complexity of our lives today, that is what I remembered.  I remember a nearly vacant beach, and nothing about the hotel room.  I remember getting up in the mornings, getting an orange soda and lying on sand.  I remember one night, we went to the end of the road, and were escorted in to a restaurant by men with machine guns, which, admittedly was strange.  We went on to order, and someone, likely Dad, ordered lobster, and when it came it was a lobster as big as an alligator and it was just sawed in half down the middle and it must have taken an hour to eat.

I must have read something that week.  I must have interacted with my parents and probably other people, but I remember none of it.  There was no TV.  No music.  No siblings.   I remember the leisure of having nothing to do for days, and the joy of an orange soda on a hot day.  It seems to me, even today, like a perfect vacation.

For the two of you who still stop by, and the handful that have email updates, I am sorry I have been awol. 

I just haven't felt it in me, but I guess I am not dead yet, because one trip to the grocery store gave me about 9 mental blog posts. 

Grace and I just went to the new Oriental Market in town. It was a wild and wonderful ride, and I am sure we looked like the worst kind of tourists, with perplexed and admiring looks on our faces as we picked up this mung bean noodle, and this beloved candy pocky stick candy, and this new treasure of blueberry gum.  We picked up pickled cucumbers (which were not at all what we were expecting when we opened them) and mung bean cake which was pressed into a beautiful white shape of perfection.  We passed on both the dragon fruit and jack fruit, although that took some restraint, especially since we saw repeats of the jack fruit in various canned varieties  on almost every aisle, regardless of the country.  Next time.

As we went up and down each aisle it was like being in a different country with each turn of the corner.  I don't think I was imagining that the Middle Eastern aisles had Middle Easterners, and each respective Asian aisle had the respective Asian customers. I kept wondering if something as simple as a grocery store, one with an aisle filled with their own language, and with the food they remembered from the days when they were small could feel like home to them.  I felt this sense of joy in each aisle, mixed with a poignant sadness of loss.  I read a lovely book once, called "Crescent" where the writer talks about the eternal grief for your lost country, when you leave it, and I wondered if this little glimpse of home could help, even a little bit.  If standing in the line at the meat shop in the store that had baked things that honestly, you would never see at the corner grocery (they still had necks and eyes and parts) makes you feel a small comfort.

We stood in line behind a wizened woman buying spring roll wrappers (we were too!), but she had all kinds of indescribable contents for her spring rolls, like sliced eye (of what?) and some kind of bone or hoof or hock of something, and piles of lovely green vegetables and I could just see her, making rolls just like her mother taught her.  The contents of each cart were as unique as the person pushing it, and it was a cultural experience, and while most of the drivers seemed to know exactly where they were heading, Grace and I were aimless and lost.

Altogether, Grace and I spent $42.  It was the cheapest possible trip around the world.

When they finish their desk work, the teacher says they can doodle until everyone else is done.  Here is what Grace did.

I have spent the last week touring.  I am going to give you a list of highlights:

LIST 1 - AIRPORTS (counting separate days as separate visits):

TUS  SLC  BOI  BOI  SLC   SLC   BTM   BTM   SLC   GEG  GEG   SLC   TUS

Or Tucson, Salt Lake, Boise, Salt Lake, Butte, Salt Lake, Spokane, Salt Lake, Tucson.

LIST 2 - SEATMATES: 

1. TUS SLC - Chick Cowboy Poet.  Sam and I had a wonderful discussion about writing, and inspiration.  Check her out here.  This is your Monday morning poetry reading assignment.
2. SLC BOI Seatmate - Penny.  Penny is a slightly older, Asian version of me.  Public accounting, to industry and lovely to boot.  We had such a nice conversation about all kinds of things, and we laughed the whole flight.  Two fascinating seatmates in a row?  Amazing. 
3. BOI SLC - I don't remember, so it was probably a coworker.  Sorry guys.
4. SLC BTM - Small Business owner coming back from a baseball tournament for his son.  He was wearing shorts, and I asked why, because we kept seeing these crazy northerners wearing shorts.  He sat in something in Vegas and ruined his pants.  I could totally understand.  He gave us restaurant recommendations for lunch, which you will see below.
5. BTM SLC - All By Myself.
6. SLC GEG - I sat next to a nice young sniper, on leave from Afghanistan.  I couldn't help but watch him sleep, and stare at those long lashes and think of his life.  He shared a lot of stories, and the mom in me just wanted to hug him.  He described his tour this way "You know how some things seem like they are going slowly, but in hindsight, it doesn't seem like it was that long?  Afghanistan is nothing like that.  It feels 4 or 5 times longer than it is." 
7. GEG Airport - the COMMODORES!  Hello!  Sold out show in Spokane, Man.  They flew on the GEG SLC flight - coach.
8. GEG SLC - I sat next to...... The YO YO MAN.  He is a motivational speaker for kids in elementary school and was on his way to a 10 school tour in Tulsa.  He was, shall I say, motivational.
9. SLC TUS - Civil Engineer from Alaska, visiting his parents after a Vegas training.  He was just kind of civil.

LIST 3 - GREAT FOOD:

1. Valentines dinner at Leku Ona.  It was good Basque food, and I kept my shirt on. 
2. Breakfast Tuesday - Starbucks, otherwise known as Trouble.  After chugging a huge coffee, halfway to our destination I need a bathroom break like NOW. I got a little whiny.  Here is how I think I acted. WARNING, PRODUCTIVITY DRAIN - if you are anything like me you will watch this 900 times:  What I acted like HERE.
3. Lunch Wednesday - Butte MT.  Pork Chop Johns.  Check it - battered and deep fried pork chop on a bun with mayo, lettuce and tomato.  Awe.  Some.
4. Breakfast Thursday - Right next door to Pork Chop Johns, we noticed the sign that said Cherry Shakes.  Yum.  So for breakfast Thursday, we had onion rings and Cherry Shakes.  I have to admit that there were about 9 other places I wanted to eat - like the Huckleberry Shake Shack, and the family candy store.  Next time.
5. Dinner Friday - Mom's house.  She makes food I don't and it was wonderful.  Organic roasted chicken (from the neighbor's) with baked potatoes, tomato mozzarella salad and asparagus.  Just like Mom made it.
6. Dinner Saturday - Milford's Fish House.  Beets. Scallops.  Yum.

LIST 4 - BOOKS I READ:    

1. The Fish Philosophy.  The point?  Morale.  Teamwork.  Fun.
2. The 5 Dysfunctions of a Team. The point?  Teamwork (obviously).
3. Good to Great.  The point?  There were many, but it was a great (if challenging) read. 
4. The Ultimate Gift.  The point?  There were many in this, too, but they are all good ones.   Watch the movie.  It was better.
5. The Witch of Portobello (I bought it in the airport today after I ran out my battery, wrote a Jerry Maguire type treatise, wrote 3 letters and ate lunch).  The point?  You must be true to yourself.

LIST 5 - MOVIES I SAW:

1. Up in the Air.  Seemed appropriate.  Seatmate - Mom.

LIST 6 - KEY WARDROBE ITEMS:

1. Navy Velvet Calvin Klein Blazer
2. Orange blanket/scarf - I think I wore this all day every day as a scarf, hat and blanket
3. Leather gloves with cashmere lining.  AAAAAA.
4. Under Armour black watch cap - they called me Navy Seal
5. The find (Thanks Beth!) Uniqlo Heattech tank - IT GENERATES HEAT WITH YOUR SWEAT.   How cool (and warm) is that. 

 

I spent the weekend with my Mom and Earl, and it is so peaceful and lovely at their house.  She took me to Nordstrom's and I walked through, and within 20 minutes we found 5 shirts and 4 jackets and Nordstrom's shipped them straight to my house so I didn't have to pack them.  It was meant to be.  She was a great facilitator.

All things considered, and based on the fact that I actually worked a full week on top of all this, it was a pretty great week. In spite of that, I sure am glad to be home.  I hope you had a great week too.

Some of you have heard part of this story.  But it got better today.  This is really just an examination of inefficiency.  Those of you who know me, and hopefully love me, know I don't suffer inefficiency.  I spot it everywhere, and I do my best to breathe deeply and let it go. 

Sometimes, I can't. I apologize for the long rant.

The girls and I needed passports.  To get a passport with children you have to go to the passport office.

So I filled out the available online passport form completely and totally.  I printed and read the instructions repeatedly so I would bring all important papers.  I got a notarized affidavit from Phil allowing me to go to the passport office and get passports with my children, just in case I was devious and tried to smuggle them out of the country.  I had birth certificates, plus my old passport. 

We went to the office.  We took a number.  We watched the 4 clerks help the professional clerk's office paper bringers in sequence - these are people whose job is to take a number, stand in line, and then hand the clerk somewhere between 50 and 1 million sheets of paper (there was clearly some limit, but the stacks did not appear to have any consistent height or time limit.).  The one sweet couple waiting to get a marriage license and I laughed about the clerks who move in slow motion rifling through papers.  For the first hour.  Then it stopped being funny.

Then, we had a ray of sunshine. "G" stepped up to a new window.  There is hope.  Cute couple is the next number, and we have a jovial laugh in anticipation of their good fortune.  And then the most amazing thing happened.  "G" spent round about 12 minutes, best we can figure, just moving things around the desk.  Turning on the computer and printer.  Lining up the rubber stamps.  Sharpening a pencil.  Cute couple and I muse that this cries out for YouTube, it is so pathological.  I joke "I hope you weren't planning to get married today!" To which they respond that actually, they were hoping to.  If the Clerk's office will permit such a thing.  Finally, at long last, he calls them.  One half hour later they have a license. 

Other three clerks?  Still helping professional line waiters.  My number next.  "G" comes available.  Looks up at number sign.  And just as he starts to call my number, Supervisor asks "G" to help cute couple number 2 with their marriage license.  A long time passes.  He prints certificate.  Bride to be points out error.  It was just her name, after all.  Another long time.  Professional line waiters still being served by other clerks.  Dinner reservation time arrived.  Passed.  10 minutes from "Passport window closing time".  FINALLY.

Our number.  Its "G".  I have my prefilled paperwork stacked in order by person:  Application / Birth Certificate / Affidavit . 1,2,3.  Check book out.  "G" looks at papers.  Turns over papers.  Tells me they aren't the current form.  I point out the "Good through 12/31/2011" on the top.  He agrees to take the form. 

He has to write my driver's license three times total.  He has to staple one picture to each application.  He then has to swear us in.  I am not kidding.  This took 25 minutes.  25 MINUTES to write 30 digits and the word Arizona 3 times, carefully place 6 staples and ask us to raise our right hand.  25 infernal late for dinner minutes. 

After he swears us in, he staples the check to the Clerk's office to the Federal passport application and I point out his error.  So he starts opening drawers and slowly moving around until I realize he is looking for a staple remover.  I reach under the glass, pick out the staple with my fingernail.  He leaves anyway because "He can't work without my staple remover."  He is gone for 2 or 3 minutes. 

To summarize, for me to deliver Prefilled out forms with all the related paperwork and write two checks and raise my right hand took 2 hours of waiting and one full half hour at "G's" window.  Even the girls were horrified.

After 10 days, I log in to the Federal State department website.  Grace and I?  Passports in process.  I register our emails addresses.  Andra? Not there.  I wait another week.  Andra still not there.  In spite of the DIRE warnings about not calling the Federal office, I called.  I explained that I was concerned that Andra's passport was AWOL.  Lady confirms it isn't, and hangs up. 

Today?  Today, oh glorious day, I got an email telling my application had been received.  It was in process, and would take 4 to 6 weeks, and please, do not call the Federal office.  I was thinking this was still okay, more or less.

And today I got my passport in the mail.  Just mine, and it didn't have my birth certificate, or my old passport.  It did have a little slip of paper, and politely explained that my documents would come back in another envelope.  Just to make sure they spend the most money, I guess.

Honestly, I find it all rather shocking.  I need a tropical vacation just to forget it all.  I just hope my kids can come too.

I forgot I gave some cookies away on day 21.  How is that for mindful giving.  Sigh.

On day 22 I propagated all kinds of trouble, I am afraid.  I inadvertently made all kinds of people feel bad about things, including myself. I gave in little ways all day, but none seem big enough to admit.  I probably would have felt better if I made some grand gesture to people, but all I could think of was to buy Andra some crazy expensive flossers that fit under your braces (kind of self serving since I want her to have nice teeth after all the money it will take to make them straight) and I bought Valentine's presents for the girls (kind of pre-gifting).

Day 23,  I did, however, give from scarcity today (one of the rules) and gave some time to my new pet charity, the Tucson Children's Museum.  I got a free lunch, but it grew out of my instigating and offering help, so I committed to more time.  Sometime.  In the future.

On day 24, which was only Friday, but seems like a year ago, I sent a great CD to someone who won't be expecting it.

Day 25, yesterday, I was nicer than usual to my kids (at least I think so) and I gave Grace a small gift to thank her for helping me with a couple things.

I am thinking alot more about giving, but I am getting tired of tracking it, and confessing, if you will.  I have 4 days left, and I will say that I am more thoughtful each day, but that in between a full time job, four dance practices, two basketball practices, a basketball game, laundry and general home maintence, daily giving is a challenge.  Giving isn't hard, but doing it in a way that isn't just throwing money around (my personal over-compensation for my lack of time) is a challenge.

I will keep on giving, and keep on thinking more about people, I admit it. So, just a couple more days in gimmcik number 1 in 2010 Be Better...