How The Portable Electronics Ruined the Simple Life

The other day, I had yet another doctors appointment.  Being summer and being that I am a full time mom, the kids came singing a long.  Well, not exactly.  First there was a polite question by the eldest if the iPad could be the entertainment.  She would check in on our Smurf village.  Sure, I say. Explosion of the youngest; it is not fair!  Take your Nitendo DS, that's why we bought them for doctor office waits and travel in the car.   But, I wanna...  Fire cracker.  Snap.  Pow.  Pout.  The iPad ends up to be the entertainment playing Phineus and Pherb wifi style.
           Yes, in therory, the portable electronic devices were supposed to make the long multiple waits in a young child's life endurable.  Some of the games may even accidentally teach something.  Others develop coordination and fine motor skills.  Yet, in my experience, it only adds stress to a mother's simple life.  In my young days, we brought paper and crayons.  We went excitedly with mom to her appointments hoping to find the newest Highlights magazine.  Well, you might have to ask my mom if it was so easy or if my sis and I had our own share of disputes over the blue crayon.  But, my point is, in the simpler time, we didn't fight over how we would be entertained, we only moaned that we were bored.  Or so I thought as I scooted my now grumpy kids into the car running five minutes late and already exhausted.
         Digital cameras also ruined photography.  Black and white dark rooms are being gutted and turned into computer labs at local high schools. Yes, it is true there are some cool things one can do with digital photography to manipulate the image.  For example, our family photographer, who took our images with a regular SLR at the start of our family years, was able to take two nearly identical images of the four of us and swap lips so everyone was smiling in the same picture with her digital imaging.  Digital photography is cool in many ways.  However, as a teacher of  old-school photography, I morn those formats and techniques lost to history.  As a mom, the digital image makes putting together an album a cinch.  However,the preciousness of the image, the roll of film, and keeping the negatives safe until you arrive home and development is lost.  Also lost is the the anticipation of waiting for mom to go get the prints so you could see what fun you had on the trip.
         The digital image also sucks up my time.  Hours are spent labeling, filing, and uploading images.   Now, don't get me wrong, I do enjoy this task and pressing the order button on Shutterfly, but is it time well spent?   With portable computing devices, I can sit on my couch clicking the mouse of my laptop and swishing a photo from here to there on my iPad.  I can chat with friends.  I can look at my calendar.  I can stay in touch with the news without waiting for ten o'clock.  It is great.  But, then why am I up hours past when I should be on a regular basis?   I could pick up a phone if before eight o'clock.   I forget dates all the time.  Maybe if I went back to the paper calendar, I would remember them because I am writing them down.  Then again, with the e-mail immediacy, I have far more dates to remember then I ought.  And news, well, I still prefer the thirty minute update of CBS over the disjointed clips of news on the internet.  Maybe that is because I rather listen to the soothing voice of a newscaster then all the reading of the Huffington Post.  I never have enjoyed the paper.
          The portable devices in my life have ruined my simplicity, and I let them.  I am guilty.   In the old days merly five years ago or so, I computed for no more then an hour a day.  I sat at my desk top in the fourth bedroom during that period between putting the baby in his crib and the fifth and final time the toddler came in to announce she was not tired.   When the house was finally snoring, I escaped to read a book or watch shows.  And, by the way, I had to get down stairs by eight on Thursdays and Sundays to catch my shows, no DVR.  Now, I can record them.  Resulting in the lingering through chore tasks prior to sitting down on the cozy couch.  Ergo the late bed times.  

          Okay, okay, it is what it is and I let it happen.  I stay up typing blogs and sorting photos.  It is a good life.  It is a current life.  I only miss the simple time when I spent a weekend clipping and pasting scrap books.  I miss the days before I shared my space at night.  After a warm shower, I crawled in bed to write.  Yes, I wrote on paper.  Ten minutes a day with a real pen and a book with real paper.  Misspellings and all, you can find the grand collection of journals in my studio.  They are pretty funny.  And then I read a few pages dozing, a head jerk, turn off the light, and goodnight.
          Yes, I can return somewhat to these simpler habits.  Or can I?  It may not be as easy as it sounds.  Yet, I hold an element of risitance. You have teased me about it.  I have complained I wanted yours when we where travelling and needing directions or resturant recommendations.  I use a flip cell phone.  It is a three year old antique.  I don't text.  Thought the company keeps encouraging me to pay more for more services, I pay the least.  I enjoy the fact you can't always get a hold of me.  It is sort of fun to dash into the gas station to ask someone for directions.  And, I can plug into my kids instead of my fancy phone in the middle of the day.  Yes, I resist by keeping my phone simple.  You might have to ring me a couple of times before you get a hold of me.  Oh, I only hope it reminds you of a simplier time when you went out on errands and to play with mom all summer's day.  Just you, her and the world.  No calls.

Day 68 of 84

In 16 days and 9 hours the kids will return to school.  We've started some training.   Get to bed by eight, brush teeth in the morning, make your bed, comb your hair, fifteen minutes of reading, be nice to your sister.  There is a bit of a bitter sweetness to the words, back to school.  Though I look forward to some major studio time, I will miss days like today.  Monday, cleaning day.  A slow morning deserving of some party kids.  We moved through the motions of cleaning.  Son cleaned the kids bathroom with great pride.  And Daughter grabbed some alone time playing dolls.  Two bathrooms and a bedroom finished, we dash off with a lunch to Sunset Pool.  There is only two weeks of outdoor swimming left, you know.  A storm rolls in and we dash off with our reciept to the indoor pool...no charge.  Dinner; I actually cooked.  Enchiladas, three different kinds and some to freeze for later.  The kids get some bonding time with Dad watching Mountain Man on TV, and I go upstairs to "black bag" all that remained on Daughter's floor.  You know, she was asked to clean up her room.  She chose to play dolls.  Bye bye Barbie dresses.  A some reading time with each kid, and finally a shower and out of my still damp swimsuit.  Though I then moved into housekeeper mode cleaning the kitchen and folding laundry, today was a good ol' fashion summer day.  A little work and a lot of play.  Hey, Saturday wasn't half bad either.  We went to another outdoor pool for what will probably be our only visit this year.  Then we had friends over for Chinese dinner and Big Miracle.   Sunday was also a good ol' summer day.  Sleeping in, missing church again, and going to the grocery store instead.  Daddy takes Son to his first baseball game at Coors field and Mom takes Daughter up to Allenspark to Father-in-law's cabin.  We have lunch and then watch a performance called Fairytales and Fables at the community center.  It was fun but was rushed inside during intermission due to rain.  Yes, I am excited to have some uninterrupted time soon.  However, the kids give me a reason to get up in the morning.  They give me reason to take care of my home.  They give me hugs.  Motivation is hard to find when you struggle with the emotional impact of survivorship.   There is a mind language that belabors on any pains, worries, and losses.  It fools you into being unhappy.  I suppose whether I was sick or healthy, I would feel this from time to time.   as a housewife.  The feeling of worthlessness.  Feeling of emptiness.  Lonliness. And a craving for nurturing.  And that is where my little pains in the bum come into the picture.  They crawl into my bed in the mornings.  I am sandwhiched in love for a few minutes.  Just a few minutes we lay there silently as Beings until our roles as Humans begin.  Especially when you have a slow morn of summer.

My Sentence is My Service

A couple of Sundays ago, Pastor Alan talked about John.  Or, was it James?  Paul, maybe?  One of those disciples who was in a Roman prison chained to a guard twenty-four, seven.  I think it was John.  Anyway, he was talking about how John served a role through his sentence.  He wrote letters to followers.  He taught and witnessed.  People came to see him and he counselled them.  Maybe he didn't like his sterile digs.  And, being chained to someone means they will have to watch you use the bathroom.  But, it also means that they hear every word you say.  The guards listened as John counselled people.  The guards, when their century was over, went home.  The guards told their friends the stories, the lessons, the hope.  Those people then told their family.  Do you follow the chain reaction here?  John came to acknowledge and found peace with his service to the world even though he sat in a prison chained to a Roman guard.

When you are faced with an illness that will ultimately kill you, you are in a prison.  There is no way of knowing how long you will serve the sentence.  As your body fights and relinquishes, your mind builds your prison walls.  Mine are covered in lavender and peach roses.  As I struggle to understand the profound burden of having cancer, I have to make decisions.  I can a. go crawl in the corner of a grey prison with no windows.  Or, b. chip away at the mortar so the garden can creep in to mask the harsh stones of reality. 

Okay, that was a little abstract so let me explain further.  I have found the service in my sentence.  The other day, I was talking to a friend and received some bad news about her sister's health, brain tumor.  She stated, "I think I have known you for the past three years to get me ready for this."  She went on to explain that all this time she would think of me and what I was going through.  If something bad happened, it couldn't be as bad as what Sara is dealing with.  So it seemed easier.  Now, they have to deal with walls of a prison being built with no rhyme or reason.  Yet, I have given her hope and endurance through my own perseverance.  In a sense, like John, I have witnessed to her faith.

It is humbling to be told that I am an inspiration.  Friends, family, people far away, and others I have just met tell me that I inspire them.  I wrestle with this compliment.  Who me?  Me, inspiring?  How can my living be inspiring? You have to be kidding.  Alas, I now know that this is the role I am to serve.  If you want to stay at the surface level and ask why me?  Then you would say, well, why not me?  Did I get cancer so I could be an inspiring survivor?  Did John have to be in jail to be heard?  I try not to go to that place of reasoning to find purpose.  Well, maybe it is so.  So be it.  I am out on parole for good behavior.  Take from me what you need.  I will humbly bow to you and show you how to keep your prison walls filled with holes so the sunlight and garden creep in to make it a peaceful place.  Rock on, Baby.  Go listen to the rain and be still.  Rest your mind.  Breath.

Blah Blah Blah and Then there was Day 62

Last week was a typical summer week full of staying inside to escape the heat, doctor appointments, sneaking in yoga while the kids are at their aunt and uncle's over night, and general errand running and housekeeping mixed with play dates and park time. 

The weekend was spent in Red Feather Lakes at Dowdy Lake with the Cronins.  It was hard for me to see the burn line from the High Park Fire as we drove in on Hwy 72.  There is a distinct edge of the fire.  It is so close to several homes and ranches we have seen along the way each time we drive up to my parent's cabin.  At any rate, the weekend was fun with the kids and our friends.  The men and the little men spent much of the day fishing and floating on the boat.  It looked like it might sink when they added Sweet daughter to the crew.  We ladies enjoyed the three mile walk around the lake and time for reading in the shade.  My dad also brought his kayak on Saturday, and we took a tour of the glacial rock formations in the middle of the lake.  Though there was a little drizzle off and on through Saturday's dinner, the weather was perfect.

This week, the kids have a Super Soaker day camp in the afternoons.  They are having such a great time that they both fell asleep on the short car ride home today, and it is only Tuesday!  By Friday, they might not make it from the car to the pool.  I have enjoyed a little time chatting with a good friend I have missed seeing, getting my massage therapy for my arm...much needed, and organizing for a garage sale.  Yes, I am strange and enjoy organizing.

Right at this moment, it is raining.  Lightening.  One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi.  the thunder clashes.  I hear one of the children groan.  Will they wake?  I think I will go sit on the porch for a spell.  A sip of peace.  of

51 & 52 - scrubbed clean

The worst thing about vacation is coming home. Now, we are all familiar with the manifold of references of this exclamation. One is the putting away and cleaning. I left the house dirty. So it took several hours over three days to complete the putting away, washing, and scrubbing the bones of this abode. Alas, breath in, yummy smell of vinegar and lemon. Fresh. When making a quilt, the Amish are perfectionists. Their work is so meticulous. Yet, they humble before God with a humility block. One block is backwards, upside down, or slightly off color. Everything, clothes, towels, sheets, all of it is washed. Laundry still looms in a invasive blob on the floor. It will be done by the close of this eve. Two bags will be packed for our next two adventures. My humiliy spot is the powder room rug. It is filthy. It shyly slipped by my notice until mopping. I bow to you./ ......A surprise arrived while we were away at the lake, my sister and nephews. She showed up on Wednesday. We enjoyed pizza, ice cream, a walk, backrubs, and the cousins laughed a ton. We enjoyed each other's company so much that it was nine o'clock before I noticed my kids should be in bed! Consecutively, my cell phone rang. I forgot Mom's Night Out. Yep, they will go on in the night so come on over. Goodbye hugs commenced, kids are swept off into their jammies, popped into bed, foreheads kissed and mommy is off for some friend time. Apparently, kids didn't pass out at 9:45 and woke their dad. So it was a good thing I left a note on the table of where I was. Midnight battmitton was well worth the rush. Thanks for calling me ladies...I just forget stuff./ ..... Day three of cleaning, the downstairs. Check. Yoga with kids. Then home to finish last list items of the cleaning that I hope lasts for two weeks because it is awefully exhausting. Dad Parent takes kids to pool for two hours of over drive. Rose bush trimmed, powder room cleaned, kitchen sorted, fish bowls cleaned, fish very happy, laundry all dried and piled, and wow, I need a maid. Dinner out, thank you Hubby! And back by six. She is early! Six twenty, the photographer for Cure Today magazine arrives. Good thing I spent an hour in the morning e-mailing pictures of my outfit choices to my closest friends. Outfit number three, coordinate running knee pants and top, won. An hour spent doing Yoga poses, pretending to tie my sneakers, walking away from the camera and looking over my shoulder, wishing I had grand, flowing locks to toss over my shoulder instead of a grey militant buzz, and kids wondering into the scene wanting their images taken too. This survivor is ready to sit. Apparently, after a week of staying up until nine or ten o'clock at night, a six and eight year old are NOT going easily to La La Land. And now, it is ten forty one. The laundry pile and bags to be packed loom in my ditant future. I wonder if I can stretch that future into Tomorrow Land. Night.

42-50. Lake Life

Being that I could not submerge my noggin' due to the ear tube placed last week, I spent much of my week on Lake Powell chill-axin' on the boat. Though it was a miscommunication on Whaler usage that I missed out on a day trip with the family, that afternoon may have been my most favorable. See, I was left behind to tend to my five month old grand-nephew. He was sleeping when my family left and his parents went off to play on the Seadoos so I practiced Vinyasa yoga in the living area in front of his swing. The little cutie woke up and smiled. I taught him mommy and me (okay what was mommy and me to Baby Daughter and Son, anyway) yoga. He loved flying through the air and rocking up and down. Otherwsie, much of my time was spent hanging out making finger woven friendship bracelets for the crew. I made eleven. Oh, and helped kids make two each. And, I watched the world go by. It is interesting what you learn when you just sit in the moment./ ..... Seven days on the lake ended. Seven hours later, we arrive back in Colorado and realize it is just as hot here as it was at the Lake minus maybe a few degrees. The thing is there is not a body of water to kiss your sizzling skin here. However, there is air conditioning for lucky folks like myself. After a dinner of the five eggs I blessedly left in the fridge, I couldn't wait to get the kids out the door for a walk. Seven days. Seven days without walking. Boat life is great for seven days. But, if you can't take your morning swim and play mermaid all day...seven days./ ..... A mile into our walk to check out progress on our new community park, we run into some ol' friends in the north hood. Turns out my friend is just home from a major knee surgery. I knew she was having issues but had not known about the surgery. It was truely a serendipitous event to run into her hubby and kids. We escorted them home and I stepped inside. Oh, it was good to see me friend. She is doing well. We chatted on numerous topics. She bequested advise on post-suregery recovery. I asked her what I should wear at my photo-shoot on Sunday. Yes, you heard that correctly. They are going to take my picture "exercising" for the article I contributed to for Cure Today magazine on exercise and survivorship. I am nervous. National magazine in my running clothes! My friend gave me a cleaver little thing called a Booty Cover her sister invented. It is pretty cool; like a sweater you tie around your waist and a fanny pack all in one. During a work out, it holds your stuff while covering your rump. At any rate, we left before the kids were too wound up with snails. Yep, new pets; I am so excited. Thanks friend's kids./ ..... On the way home, I thought about how serendipitous events come around. I needed her. She needed me. Neither of us knew this. But, as I learned in my week of observing and being with muself, there is great calm in being present. And, in the presnce there is a calm. Everything is as it should be. I am where I am as it should be. Sure, I get impatient at the kids. Sure, I get sad when I realize how lonely I feel time to time. And yes, I have pain. But, those moments are those moments, and they pass away. All these years later, nearly twenty since the insecure high school days, I have found great peace in being with myself. I find great joy in that growth towards self actualization. Whatever that means. Peace out.

This is the Sweet Life

So in light of the Fourth of July and certain events in the goverment, my mom has me thinking about politics and governing. I know, weird, right? So on one hand there is the thumping of socialist republic. The cancer community is excited for the decission on health care because one could get coverage even when they have pre-exsisting conditions like metastatic cancer. But then, there is the socialist care of Cananda. Canadanas already travel the borders to American to get cancer drugs like I am on. If we have the same system, I would have to fly to Germany waith all the Canadians. Anyway, some thoughts brewing. ....Our Fourth was great. I felt like I had a lot of energy and eally enjoyed seeing the ol' gang and family. We were up at my inlaw's cabin in Allenspark. Horse shoes, volleyball, and good food. I ran the horse shoe tournament. Social director is a role I enjoy. They kids had some buddies and climbed throguh the woods and requeested Sprites. I think we all had a good time. No fireworks our scorched Front Range. But, good news, the High Point fire is 100% contained!! ....The Sweet Life. A blog I follow was discussing the sweet life. She has metastatic, rare cancer. When she is feeling down, she looks in the mirror and repeats, "I have the sweet life.". Over and over. Hey, it works. Maybe it is just a way to rationalize the black cloud of an early expiration date, but I guess it is my calling to be the survivor I am. Seeing old friends I have known for eighteen years, I found myself humbled as they went on and on about how amazing I am. What did I do? Run towards life the best I can is all I do. I choose life. I chose to make the big things little so I can leap frog over them. I run and practice yoga for body and mind. And most inportantly, I give. i give and give and want to give more. The Dahli Lama instructs over and over in different ways(we are Facebook friends, you know) that what you give out flows back to you. You can't request it, pay for it, nor expect it. Just do it, give it. Give all of you. My calling is to encourage oothers though my living. And it flows back. ....hey, sometimes it comes in simple ways. This morning, I had a bunch of worries that kept me up all night. We are leaving for a week with no internet nor cell. Way cool. But, I had paintings do to the Muse Gallery next week, an art show application due and a guitar string broken yesterday. I was able to get into the gallery ear Y this morning. Then, I swung by the guitar shop. Larry was there and hour before opening. He totally rocks as he showed me how to restring the guitar, tune it, and learn cords A, E, and D to play just about anything. You know, I do my best to take care of people, even strangers. I smile at the frustrated mommy in the store. I hold the door for just about everyone. I hug my friends. I listen. And it flows back. The world cares for me if I let it. Even if it is humbling to hear all the compliments. It is may payment for my service here. And a few last notes as I will be away from my keypad for a week, Steam Punk. Look it up. It is a current art movement my mom and I have been researching. Very interesting. Think Sherlock Holmes, the Capitol in the Hunger Games, and all those cool upcycle jewelry piece you see at the art show that use gears. It is a little British Victorian breed with goth. And it may explain the bofant hairdos those youngins wear these days. Oh, and I am a Neosurrealist artist. Look it up. I will explain later.

Day 35-41. Just about enough

So aparently it takes about half the summer to start going insane. Yes, I know I have the sweetest kids on the block. That is, they are so darn cute and sweet to you unless you are their mother. These past few days I have had to fall into the parenting role I detest of commander in charge. Time out...for the both of you. Oh, that toy is in toy jail since you can't seem to share it. Don't talk to me that way. Check your attitude at the door. Go back out and try that again. Oh my gosh, everyone be quiet, I am trying to drive. And on and on. Time out, lost dinners, toys in jail, seperate...oh sigh. .........In amoungst the argueing and disrespectful behavior there has been quite a few giggles. Thursday, I can't remember, it was such a long week with treatment and the ear thing. Friday we went hiking around Lily Lake with friends. I quite enjoyed myself inspite of the whining and complaining. We stopped for lunh with my Father-in-law, and then and afternoon of packing for our trip. Saturday was a big day of biking and tubing along Boulder Creek. I, of course couldn't participate in the tubing due to my ear. The kids had a great time with their dad though. Sunday was church and then I snuck out of the house to meet a friend in Golden for lunch. That was a great way to spend the afternoon. We went to the Rocky Mountain Quilt Museum and had a personal tour that was quite educational and interesting. Monday was a work day for me. Grocery shopping, packing, and sorting out stuff in the house. Kids were pretty grumpy and I wished I had two girls or two boys so they would play together better. But, eventually, they pulled out some games and calmed down. In the evening, we went to my folks to celebrate my dad's birthday. Yeah! And Tuesday we all went to Madagscar 3 and On the Border for lunch. Well, that is about it. Nothing too exciting. But, I promised myself I would write about every day of my summer. So here it is. Nearly half way through and tired of hearing the kids yell at each other. Maybe there will be something enlighting tomorrow on the Fourth of July.