Monthly Archives: March 2013
This past weekend was the 11th annual Nevada Women’s Expo. I had never been before, but had always wanted to go. Turns out, I finally got my chance – but not exactly in the way I had envisioned or planned.
I have a friend with whom I keep in touch through Facebook (yes, we all have those friends – the ones we never physically see or get together with, but we know intimate details of their lives from reading their posts). Out of the blue she sent me a message asking if I might be interested in being a makeover model for a woman doing a showcase at the Women’s Expo. Umm, YES! I see all those makeovers on TV and always (secretly) thought how fun it would be to take part in one, and then reality would appear and remind me saying “yeah right, who do you think you are?” Well, reality took a slap in the face on this one because your’s truly got to be a model for a day!
I had been complaining (yeah, I do that occasionally) about my hair being too long and needing to get it cut, just hadn’t gotten a chance to call and make an appointment (because picking up the phone and dialing takes so long you know… ha!). So, this makeover opportunity couldn’t have come at a better time. I was going to get my hair cut, my makeup done and get to put on an evening gown to feel absolutely beautiful. It was going to be a full glamour makeover. Being the only woman in a house full of boys – Bring It On!
I spoke with the woman doing the makeovers and we talked about hair style and about the time requirements (meeting at the department store to try on dresses, what (un-godly early) time we had to be at the Expo on “show day,” etc.). I met her a few days later so she could take my “before” picture. Then last Saturday I spent three hours at her salon while she cut about six inches off my hair (it was loooong) and added some color to the ends. Let me say that I never color my hair. Once (maybe twice) in college I got hi-lights, but other than that I am au naturale – and I like it that way. I do actually really love the color of my hair (thanks Mom & Dad).
So, just this past Saturday was the makeover / fashion show / glamour day at the Women’s Expo. I was excited, I was nervous, I was exhausted (the night before was Zack’s school fundraiser and a few of us turned it into an overnight girls night – and I didn’t get to bed until after 2am. It was a TON of fun, but I was tired… and I knew I’d be). 8:25am I showed up at the convention center, coffee mug in hand. There were five of us models all together. I think we all had the same feelings – what did we get ourselves into? We head into the expo hall and walk all the way to the back, past the stage where we would be making our runway debuts, through some curtain walls, back into the “work” area where they stored extra tables, chairs and other what-nots, into what felt like the frozen tundra which was the bathroom where we had to sit, on folding chairs, in horrible fluorescent lighting, with no heat for six hours! Showtime was until almost 2:30pm, so yes, six hours.
We all expected we would have some down time, and I think we all brought a book to read or something to do, but literally it was freezing. No heat. Just cold. At one point I asked an employee of the convention center if there was any way to get some heat back there. She told me they had tried before, but the heat didn’t come back this far (what?!) and they have actually had issues with the pipes freezing in the bathroom (where, shall I remind you, we sat for six f***-ing hours) because they couldn’t keep the temperature above forty degrees. Great.
Well, long story short, we all survived. My toes were frozen (which was probably a good thing because I couldn’t feel how much my feet hurt in those heels I was wearing – I’m pretty much a flip-flop girl), my fingers were turning blue and I was too cold to pee, but dammit I looked beautiful! My hair was all curled, my makeup done (and I don’t ever really wear anything other than chapstick or the occasional eye liner and mascara – so I couldn’t wait to scrub my face when I got home), and I was wearing a beautiful, strapless, floor length fuschia gown with ruching on the top and a slit down the side, with the most gorgeous bracelet, earrings and necklace – I felt like a Princess!
The show went well, considering it all, we all looked stunning, and I was glad it was over. I couldn’t wait to go sit in my car and blast the heat while driving home. People asked me if it was fun. Fun wouldn’t necessarily be the word I would choose, but I’m happy I did it – check that off the list! It was a good experience and now I can say most confidently that I feel pretty in pink.
The other day we were all driving to Zack’s first swim lesson of the season. Out of the blue he asks me, “Mom, how did your Mom passed away?” I could have gone one of two ways with this. I could have gone down the path of sadness, being quiet and choosing not to really talk about it, but instead I took the opposite approach. “She got really sick.” I told him. “And she couldn’t get better so she died, and now she’s up in Heaven?” he asked. “Yes.” I replied. Zack went on to say “That makes me really sad because I never got to meet her.” That just about broke my heart.
I explained to Zack (and Brayden listened quietly too) how my Mom was now an Angel up in Heaven and just because we can’t see her anymore, she sees us. I told him that it is hard for me to have the reality of he and Brayden never knowing my Mom, their Grandma, but that she knows all about them. She sees them and she is with us always. We can’t hear or touch her, but she knows all we do and she is in every breath of air we breathe, every leaf that flutters in the wind, every drop of rain or snowflake that gently hits the ground.
Zack seemed to take it okay, and I told him we could look at pictures of Grandma when we got home, and whenever he wanted. I have lots of pictures!
We got to swimming, Zack did amazing – as if I expected anything less – and we came home. I forgot to get out the pictures of my Mom (I’ll have to make myself a reminder note). It was a touching moment to have Zack ask what he did and to genuinely feel the sadness and love. To have my five-year-old with such deep expressions of emotion… it humbled me and made me proud.
Yesterday I got an email from my Dad regarding a memorial for my Mom from the hospital where she had been cared for. It also was very touching, and the timing couldn’t be any better. I posted it on Facebook, but this is what it read: “In 2005, Olga Sommer, a long-time patient of Sequoia Hospital received the unfortunate news that her lengthy battle with leukemia and lupus was nearing its end. Rather than retreating quietly, Olga and her husband, Fred, openly approached the Sequoia Hospital Foundation to see what they could do in support of the hospital’s Infusion Center that had so compassionately cared for Olga. Their first gifts helped purchase comfortable chairs for those receiving infusion treatments. Next, they funded a blanket warmer for the department, followed by a patient scale, and a television. They had only just begun. Olga passed away late in 2006 but not before instilling in Fred the importance of providing for Sequoia Hospital’s future. He continues to give passionately in her memory, and to assure that Sequoia is cared for even after his passing. Fred Sommer has joined the Foundation’s Legacy Circle by including Sequoia Hospital in his planning with a charitable gift annuity. When the new Sequoia Hospital opens this year, the Infusion Center’s waiting area will be named in memory of Olga Sommer, loving wife and mother. The dedication to Olga is a lasting honor to the impact she and Fred have had on the care provided to Sequoia’s patients.”
Yes, bedtime again. The boys are both in their beds, lights out, humidifier, sound machine and glow buddy all on. I used to be SO great at getting those boys in bed and walking out of their room no later than 7:00pm. Not sure what has happened over the past month or two – other than Brayden being sick, and Brayden being extra particular (yep, he gets that from me…).
I finally have them both quiet – well, semi-quiet – and just about comfy-cozy. Zack is tucked into his bed and Brayden and I are rocking in his chair with a blanket and the puppy dog he got from his ER visit a couple of weeks ago. Brayden is actually just about asleep, and I’m just about to put him into his crib, tuck him in and give him one last “I love you, sweet dreams” kiss.
Whack! (Zack slams his arm down over his covers)
I whisper as sternly as possible, “Zack, shh be quiet and go to sleep.” And Brayden whispers an echo, “Zack, be quiet.” Okay – time to start the “quiet down” process again. We’re almost there, Brayden’s eyes are heavy and almost about to stay shut for the night. He’s breathing slow and deep, and his head just starts to slip off my shoulder onto puppy dog. I whisper into his soft little ear, “Okay, ready to go in your crib?”
“I love you.”
Now what Mother doesn’t love to hear their child say this? “I love you too now stop talking and go to sleep. Good night, sweet dreams.”
“I will if you will.” Oh no, he didn’t just say that did he?
“Don’t you talk back to me!” Yes, I did – I got a little peeved. “I’m only talking to tell you to be quiet and go to sleep.” Deep breath… “I love you, sweet dreams.”
“I love you too.”
Brayden, luckily, stayed pretty still and quiet so getting him into his crib was not too difficult. I figured he was tired after a long day of school and playing out in the sun, hell I would be!
Bedtime was saved. 7:20pm and I walked out of their room (and came directly to my computer so I could capture this before I forgot). It wasn’t the worst bedtime. It wasn’t the best, but it could have been better. I managed to stay calm and regain positive energy and love (that’s what it’s all about anyway, right?), and the boys are now happily tucked into bed, hopefully off to sweet dream land, all comfy-cozy.
It’s Tuesday. It’s been a week since I’ve posted. I don’t know how some of you Moms out there do it? – posting every day, or even multiple times a week? Maybe you just don’t sleep? Maybe you have older kids? Maybe you’re just a little more motivated than me? What ever the reason – you inspire me. I read your posts (it may be a week or so after they get posted) and I really do smile, laugh, agree and comment when I get the chance. I’m bad at that – commenting. I wish I was better. I have grande intentions of reading your blogs every day and posting wonderful, meaningful but fun comments… and then life comes and smacks me in the face. Bam!
Anyway, you do inspire me. You inspire me to keep on pushing though, to keep writing, to keep the creativity alive. You inspire me to share my moments – whether good, bad, ugly or beautiful.
This post is for you
For all of you whose blog I once visited and liked
And perhaps even have left a comment or two or more
For the times you have clicked on my blog
For the comments and smiles you have reciprocated back to me
For writing with honesty, passion, humor and emotion
And for giving me a place to go read without judgement
Your blog keeps me going
Even if I visit it less often than I’d like
Your blog is in my mind, in my vision
I think of it, I think of you
Thank you for writing
I promise I’ll visit again soon.