Conversations with a Kat

Katrina: "Mom, I want to learn to drive. Everyone I know is driving."

Me: "You will...one day."

Kat starts naming her friends that have permits and are already driving. One is supposedly driving with 5 family members in her car. (Note to self, stay off the sidewalks in our surrounding towns). Since they haven't even started driver's ed, I'm not sure how the kids have accomplished this feat. Then, in Kat's Katlike ability to make me wonder what is going on in her little ol' head, she says, "I'm tired of not being able to text my friends because they are driving."

Me (attempting to understand the logic of that sentence and finally giving up): "And you think you will be texting while driving?" She just laughs at me at the same time as saying, "NO! Not me!"

The logic of a 15 year old eludes me at all times.

I strongly suggest she has her father teach her the basics as I tend to be a bit high strung. She then suggests that a friend of hers, who just got his license will teach her. I don't be thinkin' so!

A few minutes after that conversation, she, while on the phone with Emily from our old neighborhood, informs me that Emily drove to the gas station to get milk. I explain that since Emily is 6 weeks older, it makes perfect sense that she should be driving to the gas station and Kat barely backs the car out of the driveway. I also suggested that if Kat walks the 50 miles to our old neighborhood, Emily's parents can give her the keys to their car and she can drive to the gas station to get milk for them.

Katrina and I banter all the time. Our conversations make us laugh and we never really think about what we sound like to others. We joke around. Tease each other. She laughs at me while I try to keep her from growing up too quickly. I laugh at her when she thinks I'll buy her clothes that I didn't wear until I was well past drinking age. Little did we know we had a comedy act going until I took her shopping for school clothes last August. We went to her favorite store Mandee. I can't tell you what we were laughing about, but a couple of months later when she and I returned, the sales clerks remembered us. We were told that we were unforgettable. I didn't have the guts to ask if that was in a good way or a bad way. Never ask a question if you aren't sure you want to hear the answer.

This afternoon while in the check out line in JoAnn Fabrics, we started discussing celebrities and their tendency to name their children extremely unusual names - Coco, Apple, Shilo, Suri. The conversation started because Shilo Pitt's picture was plastered on the cover of a magazine. I commented that Shilo is going to be gorgeous with her father's looks and her mother's lips. Kat started pursing her lips trying to make them as big as Shilo's. Which started me giggling. Then Kat wondered out loud if Shilo was the name of a dog in a movie. From there we discussed the idea of naming children unusual names. Then on to Britney Spears who was (of course) on the cover of the same magazine. While noting Britney, I start to say, I still want to invite...Kat finishes my sentence...I know...you still want to invite Britney over for coffee and try to straighten that poor child's life out. I didn't think the conversation was that funny, or unusual...for us, but the woman behind us kept laughing at our one liners to each other.

Somewhere along the way, I told Kat about Abbott and Costello's, "Who's on first." Found it on YouTube and she agrees, that is the two of us on a daily basis.

We'll be headlining at Zanie's next month. Look for us.

Parental Rights

I just read a statistic stating that within one given year, the US has 2.4 million marriages and 1.2 million divorces. That sure drives home the 50% divorce rate statistic and got me digging into other facts. It appears that 67% of second marriages and 74% of third marriages end in divorce. These statistics are very disheartening. Makes one wonder if monogamy is really possible. One article stated our divorce rate is realistically around 25% (oh, come on!!!) while others state it is as high as 60% (maybe they just averaged the first, second and third marriage/divorce statistics).

In our old neighborhood the divorce rate was negligible. We were the only divorced family in the preschool my children attended. Also, we were the only divorced family in our neighborhood. That is until the lady down the street had a love child with a minister that was not her husband and the woman on the next block (who could not believe that I would file for divorce) ran off with a guy 20 years younger; leaving her two children with their father. I never did thank them for taking the spotlight off of us. But they both disappeared so quickly that I was never given the opportunity.

Although divorced myself, I am a firm proponent that divorce devastates everyone. Lines are drawn. Friends and family take sides, yet there are no winners but many losers. Families are ripped apart, emotions are eviscerated and children never quite learn how to cope with what happened between their mom and dad. A friend of mine whose parents have been divorced for years stated that when her mom complains about her father, my friend, even as a grown woman, still feels horrible, "It's as if she is ripping on my DNA." Although I avoid saying anything negative about my ex-husband in front of Kat and Adam, after that conversation I am even more aware.

In my marriage, I asked for our divorce. It would be dishonest to say that I couldn't live another day in our marriage. I could have existed in that life, but I chose to live, not exist. Even now knowing how the divorce would affect Kat and Adam, I would do it all over again. Grading on the curve, I truly believe they are happier now than they would have been if we stayed. Besides, living a farce is not conducive to raising smart confident children. I was extremely unhappy. So was Kat. Her migraines started at 3 years old. The stress was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Adam was too young to remember what our house was like.

I actually thought that Adam would adapt the best out of the two kids, yet he never quite adjusted. Per Adam, Kat remembers their father living with her. Even though life was not a Norman Rockwell experience, Kat knows what it was like to live with a mom and a dad together. I filed for divorce when Adam was 11 months old. We moved out when he wasn't quite 2 and divorced by the time he was 2 1/2. He doesn't have the memory of his parents together. That fact bothers him immensely. It's not easy living with the fact that my choice is the cause for that pain.

Kat remembers what our life was like. Although she too had difficulty with the fact that her father did not live with us, she was more bothered by the fact that he tended to not excersize his visitation rights. Initially he only lived 1 block away. Then he was only 1.3 miles away. Sometimes the only time she saw her father was when he drove down the street to watch a game at a friends house. Kat saw other fathers in the neighborhood spend time with their children. She often asked why she didn't have a Daddy who wanted to play with her. For a long time she thought the reason that her father wasn't around was because he didn't love her enough. There have been so many conversations where I have explained that it's not that he doesn't love them. He's just not capable of giving more than he does. He's flawed. Not them. I don't know if they will ever truly comprehend that fact. When your father is by choice fairly non-existant in your life you will always feel a bit unloved.

On the other hand, Adam blames me. Adam was once told by his father that he wanted to fix our marital problems, but I refused. Since then, Adam went on a campaign of you left Daddy alone. You made him live by himself and took us away. Adam was 9 at the time. Adam wanted to move in with his father so he wasn't alone. It was a very difficult time in our house. There was a point when I tried to simplistically explain the chain of events, but it fell on deaf ears. In reality, the situation was not simplistic. I did not know how to explain it. So I did not pursue it. He didn't want to hear the facts. Besides, how do you explain that when counseling was suggested his father said he would rather see me in divorce court. A week before the papers were final is when his father asked for a reconciliation. By then it was too late. Maybe one day Adam will ask again and will hopefully understand. Maybe he won't. I doubt the scars left by divorce ever truly heal. And when parents pit the children against the other parent, the scars are even deeper.

When I hear my friends discuss their divorces, I am always surprised that divorce settlements are so skewed. The settlements are a true indication as to who had the better attorney, not what is best for the children. I wanted out. That was it. When we moved to my mom's, I took our clothes, Kat and Adam's toys and furniture as well as the silverware and crystal. The bedroom furniture that I bought prior to our marriage and all living room furniture stayed with my ex-husband. When we moved into my mom's I used the bedroom set I had when I was 12. People thought I was insane to leave so much behind. My dignity and sanity was more important than any material item.

I know friends (male and female) driven by other forces and emotions. They ended up paying through the nose and the ex-spouse reaping the benefits of the other's emotions. Loving fathers have paid the price of a BMW just so they can spend a(n) additional day(s) with their children every other week. Others have absorbed all the household debt and attorney fees because they felt it was the "right thing to do". In other cases, such as mine, I settled for less materialistic items. Some people also know how to work the system. I receive less than $500/ month in child support. I could go back to court to request more, but know how the system was worked before and know it will be worked the same again. I would be paying legal fees with a negligle, if any, outcome. Were our attornies looking out for us, or did they smell blood and take advantage of the situation? Or is it our legal system?

Basically, in the state of Illinois the courts generally side with the mother regardless of who is the more fit parent. I understand the anger and resentment that a person feels during a divorce. Been there. Done that. But throughout I never quite felt that my children were taken completely into consideration.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to take a new position with the company I had been with for 12 years. I knew my current position was not going to be around much longer. It was just a few months after 9/11 and positions within the hospitality industry were few and far between. Therefore, the only glitch is that we would need to move out of state...to California to be exact. The state of Illinois has very strict laws about taking minor children out of the state in which their non-custodial parent resides. The attorney I hired stated it would be extremely difficult and quite expensive, yet I needed to try.

My reasoning may have been selfish. Some would argue that I didn't take my children's feelings into consideration. Yet I was faced with the fact that my current job was not going to be mine much longer and I had a position with a company for which I enjoyed working. Take the position, or face the unemployment line. The options were quite limited. Although my ex-husband lived near, he rarely saw the kids, so any guilt of taking them away was asuaged by the fact that he never spent any more than 24 hours with them on any given visitaiton week and there were times that 60 days went by without him ever laying eyes on his children. No, there wasn't any guilt in my decision. I was trying to be the responsible parent and support my children.

The subsequent legal battle was endless. The costs insurmountable. I jumped through every hoop the courts required of me. My ex-husband jumped into the role of father of the year, yet couldn't be bothered to show up for his court appointed meetings with a mediator/psychologist. The court system proved to be a debacle. After spending the costs which could have been used to purchase my own BMW, I was told that I could move to any part of the country, or world, for that matter, but "the minor children shall reside in the same state as their father until they are 18 years of age." So I turned down the position in California.

The court did not care that I was left unemployed. Nor were they concerned that our sole monthly income was less than $500 a month in child support. I had no other income. (We are still receiving the same amount, less than $6000 a year in child support. Insane!) Nor did the court care that the non-custodial parent was continually late with his half of medical, dental and school registration fees. No, the courts didn't take any of those facts into consideration. They were concerned that I was trying to "steal" my children from their father. It didn't matter that I complied with their every request, jumped every hurdle to do all that they required during the court proceedings. None of that mattered. I was the bad parent. I was irresponsible when all I was trying to do was support my family.

The icing on the cake to this debacle was when I attempted to apply for public aid, unemployment, or food stamps until I could get back on my feet. The state of Illinois denied my application. Their reasoning? Because I was offered a position in California, but chose to not accept it. Therefore, I turned down gainful employment and ineligible for aid. Can you believe it? The System did not care that they dictated my choosing between my children and career. The choice was easy. But the System then made it impossible for me to support my children. What or where can anyone survive on less than $500/month. If it wasn't for my mom, we would have been homeless. It was a horrible chain of events and a reality check to what others less fortunate endure on a daily basis.

That is when I realized how flawed our legal system remains. I've heard discussions about paternal rights as well as maternal rights. Why does it need to boil down to gender. What about parental rights? Our legal system is skewed and needs serious reform. I don't know how to start, or who to go to. How do you fix a system that is so severely flawed? It's tragic.

Divorce is difficult enough. The innocent and naive pay the penalty. The legally savvy run to the bank. It makes zero sense to me.

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow...

Last night I watched massive amounts of snow fall to our yard. Our total accumulation at 6AM today was 10", yet more was still coming down as I drove to work. Although I am not a huge fan of winter and even on summer's hottest days, it can always be about 10 degrees warmer for me, watching the snow fall is one of my favorite pastimes. It is SO relaxing. Just wish we had a fireplace to make it more comfy cozy.


When we first moved into this house I decided that we needed to install a fireplace in the living room and a sun room off the dining room. Being a tad cash challenged, I still want to those renovations, but haven't quite figured out how to do so. When watching the snow fall, I really want a fireplace!

Anyway, while it was snowing, there was the cutest fattest bunny I have ever seen romping in our front lawn. He cracked me up. He jumped, hopped and played in the snow. Sadie wanted to go play with him. Don't worry. Sadie would never harm a fly, let alone a bunny. In fact, every morning when I let Sadie out in the back yard, I tell her to go chase the bunnies. She runs outside ready to play with her friends. Unfortunately, the bunnies run away and Sadie just stops in the middle of the lawn and sits; looking very forlorn. She's like the kid in the playground who doesn't have any friends. The bunnies run away and she can't figure out why they won't play with her. Sadie has never figured out, what those bunnies already know, that most dogs her size chase and kill bunnies. Sadie doesn't have that killer instinct. She just truly wants to play.


Last night when the snow started, it was crazy windy; howling through the windows and rafters. I believe the wind gusts were 4o mph. Kat saw two bunnies in our front lawn playing. One was bigger than the other. The littler bunny kept hopping in the snow with the wind behind him. The little guy took flight every time a gust of wind blew past him. Hop..hop...fly. Hop...hop...fly. Since I missed the show, Kat tried to explain what the bunny was doing. Her impression of a bunny taking flight was probably funnier than the actually event. She was laughing so hysterically that the sentences couldn't quite come out, just odd words like, "hop...vroomm...flying". Adam and I began laughing along with her. We hadn't seen the "bunny show", but her impersonation of the little guy was priceless. If the bunnies were looking in our window they probably got their own show. The three of us looking rather ridiculous...one of us impersonating a bunny taking flight and the other two full out belly laughing at her.

Little did the bunnies know that they are the only creatures allowed in our front lawn after a snow fall. Kat is very particular after it snows. No walking in the lawn when a fresh blanket of snow has fallen and Lord help the unknowing individual who puts one toe in the newly fallen snow. That girl can be lethal. The back yard is OK territory, but not the front. I have to admit the lawn is beautiful when unblemished by footprints. Although Kat does fall short of standing on the front step scaring other animals away, bunnies are the only animals she allows on our snow covered lawn. Probably because of their entertainment capabilities.


I still wish we had a fireplace in the living room, but with the bunny show appearing every evening, we'll just wait until we are a bit more cash solvent.

BBBBBRRRRR!!!!!

This weather is just stupid cold! It's days like this that I wish I was living in sunny California. It's also days like this that I want to create a voodoo doll in honor of the judge that prevented the kids and I from moving to sunny California. We were his last case prior to his retirement to Arizona. Hmmmm.....he's toasty warm and we are freezing our butts off waiting for school buses and trains in 30 below wind chill factors. Hardly seems fair. Me? Bitter?! Never!!! Maybe if the Gods are with me, the judge has a perpetual sunburn and his golf game never improved.

So, the cold comfort (sorry, couldn't resist the pun) in that $25,000 legal battle debacle that I am still paying off is their father is much more a part of their lives now. Honestly, that is a very good thing for everyone.

In a mood to be random, I am just going to free form my hatred for the cold.

• Trying to convince teens to dress warm is nearly impossible. Adam seems to think that -4 just means he should wear two sweatshirts to school and no coat. His mother is not the best role model since I still prefer my black leather coat that hits my thighs and is missing a button or two to my puffy down coat that hits my ankles. Yes, I'd be warmer, but I love my leather coat with missing buttons and always feel a bit claustrophobic so bundled up. Maybe it is a small rebellion against the fact that I am not in sunny California.
• Yesterday, while the air temp was -4 and I refuse to even acknowledge the wind chill factor, I didn't have time to iron a pair of pants because it was more important to send an email breaking a date for that evening. (When dates are so few and far between it is really stupid to break a date, but our doctor's schedule just doesn't coincide with my office and social calendar. Need to discuss that with the doctor after we discuss Kat's headaches.) So I resorted to a black short skirt which did not require ironing and which did not quite meet the knee high boots I was wearing. Yes, a slave to fashion even when impersonating a block of ice at the train station. Maybe not a compete slave to fashion, with two scarves wrapped around my head I resemble a character out of Fiddler on the Roof. As I stood waiting and waiting and waiting for my train, two questions kept popping into my frozen brain. Can knees get frostbite? Why are trains perpetually late in the cold? Just an hour prior I was bundling up my 15 year old like she was 5 and going out to build a snowman. Three layers later, 2 sets of socks, scarf, mittens, headband, no boots - just gymmies, and her coat she is looking at least slightly warm. She thinks I'm nuts. She's probably right. As a typical parent we occasionally get to say, "Do as I say, not as I do." Never claimed to be perfect.
• Kat stands at a bus stop which I remember hating as a teen. Buses are never on time, so you end up just standing there freezing. When it is this cold an extra minute freezing is an eternity. Adam's bus offers front door service (it literally stops at our mailbox). Next year for middle school he won't be so lucky and will realize two sweatshirts just won't cut it at a real bus stop.
• Kat's room is the coldest room in the house. Both hers and Adam's rooms face west, yet his is a mini sauna and hers we can double as a meat locker. Kat has a favorite glass which changes from blue to purple when you pour a cold beverage in it. It is always in her room. The other day she showed me the empty glass which was sitting on her desk. It was purple with nothing in it! Yes...that room is frigid. Why and how? I'm really not sure how to fix it without installing new windows and that just ain't in the budget at the moment, so we have towels between the storm and window to block out the breeze (yes, breeze). Although she is welcome to hop in bed with me, she refuses. She actually prefers a cold room, but this is ridiculous. So, this morning when she walked in my room shivering from the cold, I wondered why she wasn't wearing her bathrobe. In perfect teen logic, she explained that she hangs it on a hook by her window and it is too cold to wear. In perfect parental logic, out of curiosity I countered, can you hang it somewhere else so it is not in direct contact with the cold? Probably, but she never thinks about it until she wants to wear it.
• This semester Kat has gym 10th period. From a high school girl's perspective this is the perfect period to have gym class. You don't have to worry about how your hair or make-up looks after gym class when all you are going to do is go home. It definitely has its perks, except when for the next 4 weeks, your gym unit is swimming. That waist length mane of hers is too long and thick and takes hours to dry in normal weather. Blow drying it is even a forever process. So, not only does she get to freeze at the bus stop in the morning, but she gets to freeze at the bus stop with wet hair in the afternoon. I have serious concerns over wet hair and -30 wind chill factors. She is more concerned that her hair smells like chlorine. I guess her logic lies on the same hook that she hangs her bathrobe.

Next week we are suppose to see 50 degree temps. Taking in the wind chill factor that is a swing of 80 degrees in 7 days! Kat's room will be livable, she won't freeze on the bus stop, my train will be on time and I won't even have a problem with Adam wearing a sweatshirt to school in January. Life is good!

I'm inked!

This little ol' suburbanite single mom just got inked last weekend. There were definite country mouse meets city mouse aspects to the whole event. As much as I try to act worldly and sophisticated, at times, I truly am just a dork. Part of my charm.

Wanting company while taking this rite of passage, I asked Maggie if she would join me on my adventure. So after my dance class on Saturday, the plan was for me to stop at Maggie's place, shower, change and off we go on our field trip. Sadly, I have this innate ability to make myself nervous over the stupidest stuff, so having something permanently adhered to my body was definitely nervous inducing. Therefore, while running out the door to my dance class, I forgot my going out clothes and was not about to be seen in my dance attire. So, after class I drove from the West Loop (dance class) to Countryside (home) to Rogers Park (Maggie's) and then to Uptown for my tattoo. And how expensive is gas these days?

When we finally arrived at the Tattoo Factory, I showed Maggie the two angels I had seen before. The first one definitely had attitude. My impression of Alexis as an angel...just a little pissed off about there. The second has a very sweet serene face. She's the one I went with. While waiting for an available tattoo artist, Maggie May and I were looking around. She found Chinese symbols to go with my favorite saying, "Live well, Laugh often, Love much." Hmmmm.... If all goes well maybe one day I'll get the three symbols that mean To Live, To Love, To Laugh. Just not sure where on my body they will go and I really wanted to know how I was going to feel about my angel before I added any other ink or symbols to my body.

So, once we talked to the tattoo artist, my natural dorkiness set in. When looking at their website they listed a coupon for 10% off, so I printed it out. Yet, while talking to them I realized that although coupon was in hand, it was really dorky to mention it. They looked at me funny and I really felt dumb. They did discount the price but did not take my coupon. I'm not sure if the discount was due to them shrinking my angel a bit, or because I asked them to remove the pink glowing aura around her, or because they took pity on me and knew I was completely out of my element.

Nick, my artist, was adorable. Wanting to get to know the guy who was going to adhere my angel to my shoulder, I started asking a variety of questions. Ask my kids, I can come up with a million questions. He answered them patiently and never made me feel ridiculous (although on a couple, he may have thought it). He's been a tattoo artist since he was 15. Although he has a definite baby face, I decided he was older than he looked and guessed his age at 27. Uh...no...he's 23 and I think now insulted. Crap! Does that mean you are going to put a moustache on my angel? He laughed. I asked about the whole process, how it was going to feel, how long it would take. And then made him promise that at no time he would say, "Oops!" when tattooing. He laughed again. Yes, even when out of my element, I can still be charming.

Nick kept telling me that I'd be back for another. And I kept telling him, probably not, this is it. No more tattoos. Yet, when he was done and I saw what a great job he did with my angel, as Maggie and I were getting ready to leave, I needed to look at those Chinese symbols one more time. Just where would I put them?

So, the next morning, I figured I better inform the masses. I really just didn't want them to see it one day out of the blue. My mom was so cute. Her first reaction was laughing, "So, you finally did it!" Then, "Was it a clean place?" Next, "Did it hurt?" Her last question was very funny, "Did any of the ink come off on the bath towel when you took a shower?". I hope not!!!

When the kids got home from their dad's I told each of them separately. Kat's reaction was, "Why didn't you take me?" Well, Baby, you would have begged me to be either inked or pierced before we left. Safer to keep you home. Of course, she asked about her requested mother/daughter field trip when she is 16 and my response was still, you will wait until 18 to be tattooed. After the experience I wonder if I will give in. No, I will resist the temptation. I waited until I was 46 for my first tattoo, she can wait until she is at least 18.

Adam's reaction was not what I was expecting. He hates needles and is definitely his father's child. "You're stained!! That's disgusting!" Oh, Baby, it's not good to hold back your feelings. Tell me how you really feel! He did ask if it hurt, but holds me in complete disregard. Note to self, never mention pole dancing class.

I love my angel. She is beautiful. Nick did a great job! I highly recommend him. Tattoos are addicting. I am seriously thinking about my Chinese symbols: To Live, To Laugh, To Love. Except I really don't know where to put them. Considering it took me 6 or 7 years to decide on this one. (It took me a year to pick out my bedspread, and another year for the paint for my room, so something this monumental needs definite consideration) I just might figure out where I want those placed by Kat's 18th birthday. We can do our mother/daughter field trip then.

Any suggestions where?

Angel on my shoulder - Part II

Katrina's guardian angel has to be her second cousin, Alexis. I'm not sure who Kat's guardian angel was prior to July 19, 2005, but on that date, Alexis staked her claim. We all would have preferred Alexis to guide Kat in teenage wisdom through text messaging, her myspace page, or via IM's, but for whatever reason, there was a different plan. One thing we all agree on down here, He/She has some serious 'splainin' to do when we cross the pearly gates.

Kat and Alexis were 3 years apart - almost to the day. Kat's birthday is 11/17 and Alexis 11/19. Kat adored Alexis. So did everyone else. How could you not? As Kat has matured, Alexis' family decided Kat is a "mini-me" version of Alexis. They truly are two peas in a pod. Occasionally, when Kat does something rather Alexislike (Katlike), I tease her about channeling Alexis.

Alexis' sister and parents created a virtual memorial for her. It truly is a beautiful testiment to how much Alexis was loved and adored. Alexis' mom, Patty (my cousin) once asked if Kat would like to write anything to be included. Kat didn't say anything right away, but eventually came to me and said that anything she wanted to say was probably not appropriate. So, I asked her to tell me some of the memories she had, or stories she wanted to share about Alexis and, well, she was right. Although hilarious stories, and none are particularly bad, none are appropriate for a virtual memorial. They will stay Kat's memories though. And she will cherish them forever.

To say the girls are ditzy is putting it mildly. While Alexis was sick, she had been tested for everything you could imagine. At one point they even tested her for Lyme disease. When her sister, Brooke, asked her what tests she had done, she said, "I don't know, limestone, or something." Later a cousin, who had heard the limestone story, told Alexis she had heard about the testing for limestone, Alexis response was along the lines of, "See! I told you it was a real disease." Yep, the girl was ditzy.

Kat has had similar moments. When Kat was 13 she insisted she was old enough to hang out at the mall with her friends. I just as strongly insisted she was not. The argument had continued for a couple of weeks when I found an article about a town in New England not allowing kids to be at the mall without parental supervision until they were 15. So, when Kat woke up, I handed her the article. As she is reading it, her eyes were rolling, and she was shaking her head. Finally, she looked up and spoke in a very matter of fact, taking control of the situation voice, "But this is New England! New! England! Mom, this is all the way across the..." I so hoped she was going to say country...really, I did...but she didn't. She finished the sentence completely filled with disdain for my stupidity, "...ocean!!!" Just what is that school teaching you?!

There are times as a parent when I go to my room and stuff my face in a pillow so as not to laugh in front of the kids at what they have said or done. Couldn't be done this time. I full out belly gut laughed at my daughters expense. Wouldn't you? Once she realized what she said, although really ticked off about knowing she was stuck with me at the mall for the next two years, she realized how funny she sounded.

Another time she confused the name of the Broadway musical Lion King with a gang. I still giggle at that one too.

I can't help but wonder what these two would have been like as they got older. They would have been a definite comedy act. Being two kids who love anything loud - loud music, loud debates, loud laughter, loud talking. With the two of them together, no doubt we would all need ear plugs. We didn't get to see each other often, but I know for a fact they would have been very close. Alexis does visit Kat. For those of you who don't believe in spirits you may think I'm nuts. That's OK. I know I'm not.

Alexis died of unforseen complications to her chemo treatment on a Tuesday evening, July 19th. She died the day after her leukemia diagnosis. Not knowing what was about to happen, after dinner that night I asked Kat if she would like to go to Oakbrook with me to buy Alexis a Build A Bear. Kat and her friend Cory picked out a purple fury bear. We dressed her in a Tae Kwon Do costume, named her Roundhouse Rosy and planned to write on the card, "Let's kick some leukemia butt!" As we walked out of the store, my cell phone rang. It was my mom calling to tell us Alexis died. Kat has never stepped foot in Oakbrook mall since. Last November, Patty and Jim gave Roundhouse Rosy to Kat. Many mornings Kat wakes up with that purple bear in her arms, when she knows it wasn't near her when she went to sleep.

Alexis also refuses to let a poster stay up on Kat's wall. It was a poster that Kat's friends were making for Kat to bring to Alexis in the hospital, but it ended up instead being a sympathy card for Kat. Everytime she hangs the poster up, it falls. She can use tape, thumb tacks, super glue. It doesn't matter which wall, or what she uses. That poster likes the floor. Kat has finally resigned to set the poster against the wall. Alexis seems fine with it there.

I once went to a psychic. He was known for talking to spirits who have passed on. I asked him about Alexis. He said, there is so much sadness around her. I agreed. He then said, she keeps showing me her shoulder/back. She likes the idea of your angel tattoo. The psychic did not know that I have always wanted a guardian angel tattoo on my shoulder. I didn't have it in October when I spoke to him, but for the passed couple of years I've talked about it all the time and just got it this weekend. So, she's around. I know.

Kat often questions why Alexis had to leave us. She is definitely pissed off at the Universe and mistrusts all doctors. Can't blame her on this one. Losing someone you love is horrible at any age, but to lose someone you care about and look up to when you are 12 has life altering effects.

Like I said before, we all would rather have had Alexis personally mentor Kat through life. Instead, she is going to have to offer wisdom and strength in other ways. I'm just surprised she's doing it so quietly!

Below is Alexis' virtual memorial website. I've tried to list it as a link, but Blogger and I are still not getting along about listing links. Therefore, if you can't just click the link please copy and paste the site to your browser. You will see how much Alexis is adored.

http://alexis-white.virtual-memorials.com/main.php?action=view&mem_id=5779&page_no=1


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ME? ADD??? OMG!!!

ADD? Me??

Is this even be possible? I heard of adult ADD, but mid-life ADD? That's a new one! My whole life I have always been a tad unfocused - constantly losing stuff, feeling disorganized, flying by the seat of my pants, stopping mid conversation to start another, or just to stare at something that caught my eye, shutting down because there is too much to take in, or thinking about 40 things all at the same time. As far as I was concerned, those traits are part of my normal nuttiness and just part of my charm.

Granted, being a single parent, working a full time job as well as a budding real estate career (I'm still a one hit wonder), my life has been on overload for way too long. It's possible that I am scattered because there is so much going on all the time. At times I wondered if Valium just needed to be part of my daily diet.

How do I begin to decipher this mess so you can understand the chain of events? Ten years ago, I was in overwhelm and counseling was the only answer. My divorce, working full time and raising Kat and Adam was all too much for me. Counseling was more of a need than a want. For those of you who don't know, it is not always easy to find a good counselor. Actually, finding a good counselor is like finding the perfect pair of pumps. You need to try them on, see if they are a good fit. Do they make you feel good? Or uncomfortable? Can you be yourself while wearing them? I've been known to lug boxes up and down from storage while wearing the perfect black 3" heeled pumps. That's when you know you own the perfect shoe. It's the same with a counselor. If you can be yourself and not worry about what is about to come out of your mouth, then it's all good.

When you are an exhausted, stressed out single parent, who constantly questions all decisions, finding the perfect counselor is not an easy task. At the time, I was a bit unsure about the counselor I found. She was more of a Birkenstock rather than a 3" black patent leather, stiletto heeled pump. She seemed OK, but I was so emotionally tied in knots she could have been the Gandhi of all counselors and I would have been skeptical. After a couple of sessions, she told me that she thought I was ADHD. She gave me a packet of literature about adult women and ADHD. I went home and told my mother and a friend about her assessment. They both informed me that it was impossible for me to be ADHD. According to my mother, I could not have graduated from U of I with my grade point average and be ADHD. Funny, neither person has psychology degrees, yet it was easier to believe them and be the Queen of Denial. I never went back. Although I did save all the materials she handed me that evening; reading a few articles. They were interesting and I could see myself in them, but it was easier to believe she was a quack than adding anything else to my overfilled plate.

I saved those articles for quite awhile and occasionally looked at them. I eventually saw another counselor who was a rockstar of all counselors. She never came up with this assessment but we were focusing on issues brought about by my trying to move the kids and I to California and the legal battle that ensued - which I lost. I never really thought about the ADHD thing again until about 3 years ago when I met with another counselor. He mentioned that he too thought I was ADHD and gave me a video to look at...which I promptly lost. Freud may have a thing or two to say about that act. The seed that was planted a few years prior was starting to take root. I was less stressed and realized the first counselor may have been right. I found those articles and read them again. They listed my behaviors exactly, but again, I wasn't ready to face this issue; hiding behind my Cleopatra alter ego and denied the possibility. After telling myself I wanted a female counselor, I stopped going.

Then, last summer (which I fondly refer to as the summer from hell) I finally faced the facts and admitted something was very wrong. I couldn't state what it was, but everything around me was blowing up in my face. I was beyond a bit nutty and extremely stressed. I read somewhere that stress exacerbates ADHD behavior. And well last summer I hit the charts on stress. When writing it all out, it seems rather benign, but there was so much more going on than the typical full time job, part time real estate career, 1 teen, 1 teen in training who is a gangsta wannabe, and an aging parent who occasionally gives cantankerous a whole new meaning. Those things are all normal to me - typical day in the life stuff. Besides the mundane, there were other events that I would prefer to not list on line. One regarding Kat gives me hives and tics just thinking about...trust me, that issue is hive and tic worthy.

On top of everything else, Kat was flying to the Grand Canyon and her father and I planned an 8th grade graduation party. The week I mailed out the invitations to Kat's party I learned that her father was suddenly financially strapped due stupidity. Although promising to reimburse me at a later date (which I have yet to see), he could not pay for his portion of the party, nor help with Kat's trip to the Grand Canyon. During that same conversation, I also learned that child support was disappearing for an indefinite period of time due to legal issues caused by his stupidity. Although financially strapped, I chose to continue with the party for 60 people.

By then I had already ripped down the wallpaper in our bathroom because I refused to let my "out-laws" see peeling wallpaper the first time they entered our house. While removing wallpaper, chunks of drywall came down as well, so there was more to my quick bathroom renovation than I had planned. Yeah...things were a bit stressful and my behavior was quirky, a little extreme and slightly irrational at best. There are a few people who may suggest other adjectives for my behavior, but I'll stick with quirky and slightly irrational, thankyouverymuch!

While cleaning the garage the week prior to the party, an old friend called. While catching up on families, life, etc., he mentioned that he was recently diagnosed with ADD. As he started describing the symptoms, I pulled up a crate and just plopped. It was if he was describing me. After we hung up, I googled ADD, took a test and - Holy Crap!! I either passed with flying colors, or failed miserably. Choose how you want to look at it. Per the explanation of the test, out of the 75 questions, if my score was over 20, I was probably ADHD. My score was 36! So, the Birkenstock counselor was more of a stiletto black patent leather 3" heeled pump after all. Who new?!

At that point the realization of being ADHD for my entire life finally hit me. Memories from grade school, high school and college came flooding back. The puzzle pieces finally fit and explained so many different experiences and life choices. Soon thereafter, I contacted my doctor, found a new black patent leather, stiletto heeled therapist and have been working on me for the past 7 months. It hasn't been easy, but its all good.

During the next part of this particular journey, a variety of drugs to combat ADHD come into play. This chapter was a roller coaster I never want to ride again. My doctor suggested an experiment of sorts. He was going to prescribe something to me. If in fact I was ADHD, I would know immediately. If I didn't notice a difference, there was something else going on and we would proceed accordingly.

You need to understand, I have never been a chemical kind of girl. In fact, I remember a very exasperated obstetrician trying to explain to me when pregnant with Kat that taking Albuteral during an asthma attack would not harm the baby. Finally in shear frustration he yelled, "If you don't take your inhaler you won't breathe. If you don't breathe, you will die. If you die, the baby dies. UNDERSTAND?!" Talk about your bedside manner. Somebody needed a nap. I understood. I was just trying to explain that I don't like chemicals. In his defense, that may have also been the same appointment where I naively asked if I could donate blood while pregnant. He was definitely worried about my common sense at that point and pitied the poor child I was carrying.

So, back to ADHD chemicals. The fact that a little pill could make me more focused was intriguing. The fact that it was a prescribed amphetamine was a little frightening. I really wasn't sure how I felt about controlled substances. To be honest, the question still looms, was I excited about being more focused, or of the added benefit of losing weight? The idea of taking a daily dose of something still bothered me. I still don't take my asthma inhaler until I'm about ready to cough up a lung, so I wasn't sure how this would play out.

My first attempt at this whole chemical experiment started with Adderall. My friend who was recently diagnosed took it with no problems. I was definitely ready for this little one month trial. Honestly, after just a few days I felt more in control of my thoughts, actions and emotions...something that has been seriously lacking for...oh, about my entire life. The lights were on and somebody was actually home. Then the question arose, was this little controlled substance really working, or because I wanted the outcome to be a specific way, was I mentally tricking myself into thinking it was working? I don't have an answer. I just know I felt as if I was a new and improved me.

Many of my friends were/are skeptical, but I was now more than positive about my assessment. The only snarky problem that bothered me was my aversion to chemicals. I was grateful for the fact it made me focused and clearer of thought. I worried about the effect of this daily pill on my body and began investigating homeopathic options after reading the insert the pharmacist gave me. One has to wonder when one reads the following warning on one's prescription, "may cause heart attack, stroke, or sudden death".

Now this is an interesting choice to make...spacey, ditsy, disorganized and messed up relationships for the rest of my life, or sudden death where I don't have to worry about any of the above.

Hmmmmm...tough call.

My other thought was, what about alcohol? I enjoy a beer, glass of wine, or my frozen Grey Goose on occasion. Eventually, I came to the conclusion that no one would have made it out of the 60's without combining amphetamines with alcohol once in a while. I was definitely careful though.

Sadly, it was all short lived. My daily dose of amphetamines caused a "slight" problem in the breathing category. Being asthmatic, I am always conscious of the importance of breathing and how the lack thereof makes you feel slightly on edge. Adderall worked perfectly on making me focused and feeling like I wasn't flying by the seat of my pants. I was thrilled about the weight loss thing too. Bonus!!! But for some reason it also made me feel as if I had 10 bricks sitting on my back and chest. I was soon literally gulping for air. Not good. After an EKG, we verified that my heart was not misbehaving. My doctor gave me the EKG print out which I saved to prove to the kids that although sometimes questionable, I truly do have a heart.

One drug down...next!

Little did I know how much of a guinea pig I was going to become. Strattera was the next attempt. It was explained that this would not have the immediate effects of Adderall. It was initially used as an anti-depressant, but they later learned it helped with ADHD. This drug takes a minimum of 2-3 weeks to take effect. OK. Let's give it a whirl.

According to Maggie, I was still me, but a much calmer me. Not so anxious and a little more relaxed. But the side-effects were not for me. Let's just say, I have now seen menopause and it ain't pretty. Sharp spikes in blood pressure, hot flashes (which are not fun in the middle of August) and an aversion to alcohol. OK, alcohol aversion is not menopause related, but it wasn't fun either. My counselor explained that with Strattera, alcohol's effects are more than doubled. Not the fun effects - feeling good and silly. The bad hangover effects. I was informed of this after drinking double margaritas that hit me like a ton of bricks. I haven't been that hungover since my freshman year in college when introduced to everclear punch. Grudgingly, I could live an alcohol free life if need be, but the blood pressure and hot flashes on top of no alcohol had me checking into drug #3, Ritalin, which did absolutely nothing.

Next!
Drugs were beginning to look like the men in my life.
They come and go so quickly!

I so want to go back to Adderall. Really, how important is breathing? It was the first time in my life I felt focused. You know, God really has a seriously warped sense of humor. Teases me with something and then takes it away. He/She did a lot of that in 2007 and made me very crabby.

So...now we are on Concerta. This drug was tested in November and December, my absolutely craziest time of the year. Initially, I couldn't tell if it was working because I was moving 24/7. I was so busy at the office that nothing would keep me focused. Now that things have calmed down, I do feel as if it is working. I would still rather find a homeopathic remedy, but most of the ones you read about stimulate the brain (like caffeine), but they don't stimulate the correct part of the brain. I have a website or two I need to investigate further. But for now, Concerta and I are partners.

Kat is very similar to me and I highly suspect she too is ADHD. I should have her tested, but do not want to introduce her to drugs. The side-effects on teens are even scarier than the "may cause heart attack, stroke, or sudden death." Some list suicide, hearing voices, and other bizarre behavior. She's a teen and has her own quirks as it is. Besides, Kat has had a rough enough year. I'd like to wait for a bit.

The two of us do laugh though, because in the past we were both easily distracted and when talking we bounced all over the place. I still do on occasion, but not nearly as much. She can be all over the map. Our code phrases have become, "Look at the pretty bird.", or "Ohhhh, shiny." Usually said when the other has drifted so far off the conversation, we haven't a clue where they are leading. It may sound ridiculous, but it usually is cause for giggle fits. Kat could be talking about one thing, drift to another, then another, and I'll say, "Oh, look, it's shiny!" and Kat snap out of where ever and start to laugh. I'm currently trying to instill some of the behaviors I am learning to see if they will help her.

What a journey this was. And why did it take until I was 46 to figure it all out? Maybe because it's not the end result, but the journey that matters.