So we are on day 3.

Day 1

Actually went really well. I stayed with him the whole morning. We got there bright and early around 7am. We talked to the cafeteria and he got his first public school breakfast. Which we public school kids know isn’t all that great.

He truly is a spoiled private school kid. He was in a private day care for a year and in a private Pre-k school for another 2. His meals are all freshly made. Juice 100% freshly squeezed or ice cold milk. Meals are served in big serving dishes where he can serve himself. His dishes are real and just his. He has his own personal seat and sits at a ‘real’ table. I loved eating lunch with him. Sometimes the food was better than what I could cook. And I can really cook.

So when it came to breakfast he had the look of “You got to be kidding me. This isn’t real food.” He was irritated that none of the kids were sitting down nicely, quietly, and eating. The food of course looked micro waved, even the rice. The fruits, well of course there canned, so Nyx didn’t think they were real. So to say the least he hated breakfast. Even the carton milk, although it was chocolate, lacked any luster for him. He didn’t know how to open it, irritated he didn’t have a cup, and even saddened that he couldn’t get a straw. It got to the point where he looked at me with his beautiful brown eyes and said, “Mommy can we just go home.” No matter how much I wanted to say yes and flee faster any person before me, I held back and said no. I felt bad. As far as the food, I understood the feeling. I hated cafeteria food anyways. So I’m deciding home lunches might be the way to go for him. We are still undecided. But at this rate breakfast at home might be opening up. Now if I could only get him to wake up early enough.

After breakfast we made our way to his classroom. His teacher wasn’t there yet, so we waited. Next door he saw his Pre-k classmate Abby, which was a relief for him because he was becoming worried that he wouldn’t know anyone. Shortly after his friend David – who is in the same class with him – came waltzing in too. Mrs. T. finally opened the door and all the kids rushed in. Nyx was excited. Signed his name in, got his name tag and hurried to find his desk. It was almost as if the whole breakfast fiasco didn’t happen. Lucky for me, I was worried he was going to start crying. I took a few pictures, Not really much, I was more focused on make sure he was comfortable than taking much pictures.

In the end, we were both ok. I didn’t cry. I didn’t freak out. I didn’t even have a mild panic attack. I was ok. I was a big girl.

I walked away with a smile on my face, excitement in my heart, and knowing this is going to be a good thing.

Since it was a half day the bus wasn’t going to bring him to the youth center after school. I had to pick him up at noon and bring him there myself. I questioned him about everything. Maybe a little too fast because he wasn’t able to respond fast enough, but when I slowed down Nyx had only one thing to say,

“Mom, I’m so happy I went to Kindergarten. I want to say there forver.”

That’s all I needed to hear.

Day 2

Same spiel, difference? He gets to ride the school bus. My number one worry.

I took off from work early to go see a doctor and get some antibiotics and run everywhere to change my name.

While at my main bank I realized I got a miss call from the school at 1:15pm. I only noticed at 1:38pm. Weird, school finishes at 12:35 on Wednesdays. I have a voicemail.

Correction I have 3 voicemails! 2 from the school and 1 from the bus driver. My heart stopped.

Message 1.

“Hi Daniella, the bus driver called and doesn’t know where you son goes. Nyx said he doesn’t know where he lives.”

Message 2

“Hi this Irma, the bus driver, I have your son here. If you could let me know where he lives and I’ll happy to drop him off.

Message 3

“Hi Daniella, the bus driver still doesn’t know where your son goes. Your son has gotten on the wrong bus. Please call back.”

ZOMFG!!!

I’m in town a good 45 minutes away. I hurry the teller along and urgently call Preston. No answer. I call his coworker Ken to hurry and get Preston. I run out to my car and Preston calls me back and lets me know that he will rush over to the school.

Now my son has a great imagination so when asked where I lives, I wouldn’t be surprised that he would make up a place and that’s where he will go. I would hope the bus driver has better sense than that.

I called the bus driver, no answer. I called the school, they said he isn’t at the school. WTF!?!

I call Preston and he tells me, well the school said Nyx was brought back and sitting in the office. Why couldn’t they have told me that? I start to cry frantically.

Preston tells me not to worry. I should just finish my errands in town and he’ll pick up Nyx and figure out what happened.

Pssffttt. Like I’m going to do that, I rushed back. I wish people knew when things were urgent and just moved. Lol.

On my drive back I learned that Nyx did get on the right bus, but since he looked so confused the bus driver figured he was on the wrong bus.

You see he doesn’t take the bus to our house; he takes the bus to the youth center for The Company. So he had to get special permission for that. I guess we didn’t drill teach or explain to him enough as to what he should do when the bus stops. So when Preston picked him up he drove back to the youth center bus stop and walked him through step by step what he should do and where he should go.

It’s weird his other friend’s that go to the youth center got on the bus with him, but he never got off with them. I don’t know. It must be my fault and my horrible directions. Either way I FREAKED out.

Nyx wasn’t scared, he wasn’t mad, he was just confused. A teacher told us about another student, an older girl that goes to the youth center also, she will help Nyx get the hang of riding the bus and help him get off and walk to the youth center with him.

Day 3

So the first thing we did was find the teacher that will point out a new friend for Nyx. The girl that will help him get on and off the bus. Although she wasn’t there yet, Nyx stayed with the teacher until she introduced Nyx to his new friend.

What really sucked was that Preston made me leave early.

I didn’t get to eat breakfast with Nyx.

I didn’t get to walk Nyx to class.

Preston made me leave early. I was sour about that. But he is right. I need to start leaving Nyx at some point. I can’t walk him through everything. No matter how much I want to.

So today Nyx truly was on his own.

I’m not even sure he even bothered to eat breakfast. He still looked confused, but he was offered to sign in for the “Breakfast Club”, where they could just play games until school started. Which probably prevented him from eating because he heard the words “play games.”

So I hope it went well. I hope he walked to his class. I hope he ate something. I definitely hope he gets off the bus this time.

In all, the first week of school is almost over. I still want to hold his hands. I still hate dropping him off. And I’m fearful to get to the point where I can pull up to the school, he gets out on his own and walks off.

I’m still holding on to whatever small threads I have to be the overbearing/protective/crazy mom I’m allowed to be.

Tomorrow is another day, maybe I’ll grow up a little more then. Lol.

Day 1

Actually went really well. I stayed with him the whole morning. We got there bright and early around 7am. We talked to the cafeteria and he got his first public school breakfast. Which we public school kids know isn’t all that great.

He truly is a spoiled private school kid. He was in a private day care for a year and in a private Pre-k school for another 2. His meals are all freshly made. Juice 100% freshly squeezed or ice cold milk. Meals are served in big serving dishes where he can serve himself. His dishes are real and just his. He has his own personal seat and sits at a ‘real’ table. I loved eating lunch with him. Sometimes the food was better than what I could cook. And I can really cook.

So when it came to breakfast he had the look of “You got to be kidding me. This isn’t real food.” He was irritated that none of the kids were sitting down nicely, quietly, and eating. The food of course looked micro waved, even the rice. The fruits, well of course there canned, so Nyx didn’t think they were real. So to say the least he hated breakfast. Even the carton milk, although it was chocolate, lacked any luster for him. He didn’t know how to open it, irritated he didn’t have a cup, and even saddened that he couldn’t get a straw. It got to the point where he looked at me with his beautiful brown eyes and said, “Mommy can we just go home.” No matter how much I wanted to say yes and flee faster any person before me, I held back and said no. I felt bad. As far as the food, I understood the feeling. I hated cafeteria food anyways. So I’m deciding home lunches might be the way to go for him. We are still undecided. But at this rate breakfast at home might be opening up. Now if I could only get him to wake up early enough.

After breakfast we made our way to his classroom. His teacher wasn’t there yet, so we waited. Next door he saw his Pre-k classmate Abby, which was a relief for him because he was becoming worried that he wouldn’t know anyone. Shortly after his friend David – who is in the same class with him – came waltzing in too. Mrs. T. finally opened the door and all the kids rushed in. Nyx was excited. Signed his name in, got his name tag and hurried to find his desk. It was almost as if the whole breakfast fiasco didn’t happen. Lucky for me, I was worried he was going to start crying. I took a few pictures, Not really much, I was more focused on make sure he was comfortable than taking much pictures.

In the end, we were both ok. I didn’t cry. I didn’t freak out. I didn’t even have a mild panic attack. I was ok. I was a big girl.

I walked away with a smile on my face, excitement in my heart, and knowing this is going to be a good thing.

Since it was a half day the bus wasn’t going to bring him to the youth center after school. I had to pick him up at noon and bring him there myself. I questioned him about everything. Maybe a little too fast because he wasn’t able to respond fast enough, but when I slowed down Nyx had only one thing to say,

“Mom, I’m so happy I went to Kindergarten. I want to say there forver.”

That’s all I needed to hear.

Day 2

Same spiel, difference? He gets to ride the school bus. My number one worry.

I took off from work early to go see a doctor and get some antibiotics and run everywhere to change my name.

While at my main bank I realized I got a miss call from the school at 1:15pm. I only noticed at 1:38pm. Weird, school finishes at 12:35 on Wednesdays. I have a voicemail.

Correction I have 3 voicemails! 2 from the school and 1 from the bus driver. My heart stopped.

Message 1.

“Hi Daniella, the bus driver called and doesn’t know where you son goes. Nyx said he doesn’t know where he lives.”

Message 2

“Hi this Irma, the bus driver, I have your son here. If you could let me know where he lives and I’ll happy to drop him off.

Message 3

“Hi Daniella, the bus driver still doesn’t know where your son goes. Your son has gotten on the wrong bus. Please call back.”

ZOMFG!!!

I’m in town a good 45 minutes away. I hurry the teller along and urgently call Preston. No answer. I call his coworker Ken to hurry and get Preston. I run out to my car and Preston calls me back and lets me know that he will rush over to the school.

Now my son has a great imagination so when asked where I lives, I wouldn’t be surprised that he would make up a place and that’s where he will go. I would hope the bus driver has better sense than that.

I called the bus driver, no answer. I called the school, they said he isn’t at the school. WTF!?!

I call Preston and he tells me, well the school said Nyx was brought back and sitting in the office. Why couldn’t they have told me that? I start to cry frantically.

Preston tells me not to worry. I should just finish my errands in town and he’ll pick up Nyx and figure out what happened.

Pssffttt. Like I’m going to do that, I rushed back. I wish people knew when things were urgent and just moved. Lol.

On my drive back I learned that Nyx did get on the right bus, but since he looked so confused the bus driver figured he was on the wrong bus.

You see he doesn’t take the bus to our house; he takes the bus to the youth center for The Company. So he had to get special permission for that. I guess we didn’t drill teach or explain to him enough as to what he should do when the bus stops. So when Preston picked him up he drove back to the youth center bus stop and walked him through step by step what he should do and where he should go.

It’s weird his other friend’s that go to the youth center got on the bus with him, but he never got off with them. I don’t know. It must be my fault and my horrible directions. Either way I FREAKED out.

Nyx wasn’t scared, he wasn’t mad, he was just confused. A teacher told us about another student, an older girl that goes to the youth center also, she will help Nyx get the hang of riding the bus and help him get off and walk to the youth center with him.

Day 3

So the first thing we did was find the teacher that will point out a new friend for Nyx. The girl that will help him get on and off the bus. Although she wasn’t there yet, Nyx stayed with the teacher until she introduced Nyx to his new friend.

What really sucked was that Preston made me leave early.

I didn’t get to eat breakfast with Nyx.

I didn’t get to walk Nyx to class.

Preston made me leave early. I was sour about that. But he is right. I need to start leaving Nyx at some point. I can’t walk him through everything. No matter how much I want to.

So today Nyx truly was on his own.

I’m not even sure he even bothered to eat breakfast. He still looked confused, but he was offered to sign in for the “Breakfast Club”, where they could just play games until school started. Which probably prevented him from eating because he heard the words “play games.”

So I hope it went well. I hope he walked to his class. I hope he ate something. I definitely hope he gets off the bus this time.

In all, the first week of school is almost over. I still want to hold his hands. I still hate dropping him off. And I’m fearful to get to the point where I can pull up to the school, he gets out on his own and walks off.

I’m still holding on to whatever small threads I have to be the overbearing/protective/crazy mom I’m allowed to be.

Tomorrow is another day, maybe I’ll grow up a little more then. Lol.

Books...........check.

Backpack......check.

Bus Pass.......check.

Mom............unchecked.

We can say that again. Nyx is definitely starting Kindergarten tomorrow. My heart has only sped up since last week. Only twice as fast.

Taking the wise words of advice from my son, "I'm trying to be strong son." Not as much for him as it is for me. I haven't gotten any better from wanting to prevent him from school. Since I enrolled him in February I've been waiting for a reason to rear it's ugly head to let me keep him out of Kindergarten. I know that is a horrible thing for me to say. But I'm scared. I'm scared to let go. I'm scared to have no control over what will happen over there.

There are 17 kids in his class -including him. Only 2 of which I know from his Pre-K class. Which gives me a little comfort, but only a little. There are still 14 other kids. Kids I don't know. Kids I don't know if I would even like their parents.

The little boy that lives next door to me creeps me out. Sure his parents are nice, but they are drug dealers. It's nice they don't do it from our house. (Side note: remember we occupy the main house they live in the extension, so there is only a single wall that separates us.) But the fact that they get calls their "customers" pick the dad from the drive way and do their "transactions" else way still makes me uneasy. We live in a great neighborhood too. At least 90% of the people here work at The Company. The Company does random drug testing and no ones  during my 3 years there has gotten fired. I'm falling away from the story, sorry.

But the thing I'm getting at is the parents and kids from Pre-k are awesome people. Great influences on both my son and I. I've met the possible new parents and kids my son will have and it's scary really. The kids are so mean and bully my son already. No surprise because their parents were already being dicks to me, and I know I didn't do anything.

Here's a good one, one of the moms stared me down because she was upset me son knew all his colors, shapes and letters at Kindergarten camp and her son couldn't even spell his name. No where near being my fault, but apparently she though different.

I hate public schools.

But I have to learn to put those feelings and thoughts aside. I'll only make my son paranoid and give myself panic attacks for the next 13 years to come. It'll get better right?

After Nyx's last day at CDC/Pre-k we took him to his new school and walked around. We even made him give us directions on how to get from our house to school. He was dead on for the directions. He even took the faster way, rather than the way I would have went.

I asked him to show me where his classroom was and he knew where it was. I walked him through knowing where to go when I drop him off and what to do while he waits for school to start. I laminated his temporary bus pass, labeled his wallet and backpack, and hopefully stuck the notion in his head that his wallet and bus pass only come out when he is boarding the bus.

I am most terrified of the bus. I don't think I need to explain way, but Mrs. T assured that there will be someone there to make sure the kids get on the right bus. Later on through the year the older kids makes sure the younger ones get on the same bus. Which is awesome because the older kids' parents all work for The Company.

As a present for this momentous occasion we bought Nyx his own computer. Granted it is used, but it's rebuilt from the toe up so it's practically brand new. It has a faster CPU, more memory, CD/DVD burner, and a card reader. Nothing on it but the O.S. so yey him! He can finally install all his computer games and doesn't have to wait till Preston and/or I to get off our laptops to use. He thanked the guy we bought it from with a big grin and in turn the guy gave it to us $20 cheaper.

I have to admit Preston and I do want to kick ourselves in the ass for just not building Nyx his own computer. It's not like we don't 4 towers with motherboards in them already. It's not like we can't build computers either. But you know how the stereotypes go right? The best mechanic always has the shittiest running car, the carpenter has the house that's fall apart, the therapist that his way more issues than his patients, and the computer technicians who don't have the time to put a simple computer together for their son to they up and buy one from another technician that builds them. Yea well you get the point.

As I rivel in the last moment of the day we are finally going to go finish watching 21, I'm going to stare at my son for a few moments before I wake up tomorrow and he's my big kid, and then take a nice hot shower.

1. My aunts (minus 1) are all down, even a couple of my cousins. More coming down on the 8th. Lots of family dinner at tons of different houses and every event filled with loved. I mean LOTS of love. Loving out the ying yang. Love from people I didn't even know I was related to, but is so they shove love down your throat. lol. But I almost forgot how amazing it truly is to have a huge family like mine.

Filipino families, well maybe not all but definitely the ones in Hawaii, there is no such thing as extended family, 2nd or 3rd or 4th cousins, aunts and uncles. Everyone is just family. They are "far" family. Don't even need an ounce of the same blood you are family like they have known you your whole life.

And it's pretty nice.

To feel wanted. To have people that want to be a part of your life.

Though there is a somewhat sad side to this, but I'll tell you another day. I don't want to ruin this great start of a month.

The funeral was beautiful. The food was great too. And man did I mention my family was just huge?

2. We went to my Uncle R's house to swim in the pool. I went with the expectation that Nyx was just going to be opihi. I general can't enjoy swimming sometimes because he constantly hanging onto me and I have to carry him.

Lo and behold, I jumped in, he swam to me. Let me repeat. HE SWAM TO ME. My jaw dropped and my heart jumped. I almost couldn't believe my eyes until he popped back up and was threading water right in front of me. He quickly grabbed and said AGAIN! He held my hand, put his head under water and started kicking to the edge of the pool. What did he do?

He ran and jumped into the water. Over and over and OVER again. He showed me his "starfish" swimming method. Held his breath for LONG periods, over and over again. So we spent several hours poolside and enjoyed every second.

3. The best damn news. I checked my mail today. That doesn't sound so exciting, except for the fact that I've officially be divorced since July 24th, 2008.

July 24th, 2008!!! Single, free, unmarried -ish. I still have Preston. lol.

It's finally over. I just have to finish paying off my lawyer, but it's done. I started to read over the decree and started to cry. I was happy. Happy is too bland of a word to explain the utter relief, excitement, and pure joy I had in my heart. But happy was the only word that could find its way out of my mouth when trying to explain to Preston why I was crying.

Preston is stoked still.

So August is looking pretty damn promising for us. I hope it keeps going on for the rest of the year.

4. Oh yea my fortune cookie tonight said "The Evening Will Bring Romance."

*wink wink*

Doesn't mean I didn't having anything to label. I had 4 bottles of glue, 4 bottles of hand soap, 4 boxes of 10 markers, 2 glue sticks, 2 sets of paints, 24 sharpened pencils, 3 shirts, and a load of other things. We got to let out all the final questions. Questions that have been driving me up the wall crazy. I'm extremely paranoid so I asked ALL the "what if" questions. And amazingly she answered them all. Even Preston's interrogation questions too.

She really put my mind at ease. She's incredibly nice to. Better yet she has a daughter going to the same school. Though from the looks of it she's a couple years older. Nyx also has 2 other, possibly 3, friends from Pre-k in the same class and that's even better for him. And me.

I got the whole bus thing situated, so he gets to start riding the bus from the first day. Another great fear of mine, but his other Pre-k friends will be riding the bus to the same place as him, so once again he won't be alone.

I signed him up for the after school youth center, which is free by the way. Had our tour of the place yesterday and Nyx is looking forward to it. Actually he's been looking forward to going to the youth center for the last year. So yey all around!

And the last thing on my list was the school lunch thing. I thought it was going to be expensive, so I was going to apply for reduced/free lunch, looked at the chart and realized I don't make the cut. Apparently for a family of 2 I make too much. (Note I'm not rubbing it in your face just stating a fact). So I went on ahead and just put $100 on his lunch card for now. The lunch is $1.25. Pretty cheap I think. So I don't think Preston and I will bother applying for the reduced/free lunch. I'm sure there is another family that would like our place anyways. Even if we did try with our combined income they'd probably laugh at us for trying to apply anyways. Not a big deal.

During our interview with Mrs. T Nyx got to tour his new classroom. The nice MAC computers, the pretend center, the desks, practically everything. So the greatest ease on my mind is seeing the excitement in Nyx's eyes. Everything out of his mouth has to deal with Kindergarten. So if he is excited, then I should be too. I don't want by paranoid/negative vibes to affect him. I want to keep him on this path of wanting to learn.

After the interview I decided to take the rest of the day off. Relax and get things organized. My great-grandmother passed away a week ago and her funeral is this coming Saturday. I have lots of family flying in and they all want to spend some time together. I hardly see them and I think half of them hardly know Nyx exists. Not that they exclude me from their lives, simply that I don't communicate with them. Nothing is wrong with my aunt, just never had a strong bond with them.

Anyways, there are 4 Great Great Grandchildren and the family want them to play a role in the ceremony. So I've been preparing Nyx for that. He's never attended a funeral before. So I hope he'll be respectful and follow directions.

In the end, I wish I could have known my Great Grandmother better. I've met her a couple times, but I don't really have a bond with her. It got me thinking, thinking things I should have done a long time ago, I should rebuild my relationship with my grandmother. She is an amazing person. Very funny and I want my son to have a good relationship with her. She's great and healthy so I know she'll be around for a long time more. My grandfather is still here too, but has been in and out of the hospital the last year or so. And I know my grandma will make sure he stays as long as she does.

So tonight my WHOLE family is having dinner at my Aunt's house, N. I never met N. in fact I didn't know she existed till an hour ago when we were told ordered to go from grandma through dad.

Nyx is taking a nap and this is my opportunity to play with my Wii Fit, DDR, or maybe even *gasp* clean.

I do know something about my Great-Grandmother though, she's 4 years older than my grandma. :|

Our final meeting with his new teacher will be this Thursday. Come that day we have to have all his things labeled and ready to be settled into his new place. His teacher's name is Ms. T. At least that's what it will be on here. She's really young and quite pretty too. Not a single gray hair either. I wonder how she does it. Anyways, he's in group B which means he won't start till Tuesday, Group A is on Monday. They do a half day their first day and then full days then on.

He finishes school at 2pm, so he has to catch a bus to the youth center after school till I finish work. Which the other parents only have good things to say about the youth center. They help tutor kids with homework, its a supervised place for the kids to play and its only 3 minutes from my work.

The scary part is the bus. I'm terrified of him riding the bus. Seriously, my parents never made me ride the bus. When I slept at friends houses' on school days of course we caught the bus, but that only happened like 3 times the most. And I was terrified. Kids are mean you know. lol.

I need to have faith in the bus system, but most of all I need to have faith in my son. There will be other kids he knows that will be riding the bus to the same place. So it's not like he'll be alone.

I have to get used to this year round school schedule though. Apparently school starts the last week of July rather than the last week of August. Holiday breaks are longer, but I think summer is shorter? It's news to me.

I know I owe a much better update of Nyx seeing that I haven't updated in forever and then some. And hopefully it will be coming soon.

Hopefully.

In 10 days I put in 134 hours of work. I asked for extra money in this rough spot of the year and I got it, 3 folds. Lots of overtime and double time. Very little much to complain about. I saw my son for all of 8 hours the whole time. I spoke on the phone with him every moment I could. I cuddled up for the nights that was possible for me to come home. It hurt, a lot.

I have been quite absent from everything, everyone, and even myself. I've been trying to prove myself, not only to my boss, but to myself. If that makes much sense.

In the months of pass, I've grown very weary of my job. Frustrated with feeling stunted by my every daunting task. And questioning my very worth as an employee.

Though I had to sacrifice my valuable time with my son, I received a rejuvenated feeling of worth. I was given incredible challenges and surprise attacks of "bam you got 1 hour to do this make it happen." Truly it was grueling and i wanted to cry, but I needed my faith in myself to be restored. I needed to reminded that I am pure awesomeness at my job.

Don't misunderstand me though. I hated being away from my son. I hated not seeing him off to school. I hated having to eat each microwavable meal with another coworkers in a cold building. I hated hearing the tone of much sadness in my son's voice. It was hard. For the both of us.

Though I needed to be reminded why I enjoy my job, above all we needed the money. Expenses have gone up dramatically. Needs need to be met. Bills to be paid and roof to be kept over our heads. A boss needed to feel much confidence in to give me my raise. Of which prior boss had set up for me already, but new boss didn't know and screwed that up.

So I've done work and things have started to slow down again. I'm back to 8 hours a day. Which leaves only 3 more days of weird hours. 3 days which my son doesn't need to be in some sort of sad state. He'll be at J.'s house and won't really notice my leave.

And so goes for the work end.

Kindergarten.

Nyx had his assessment test yesterday (7/21) and it was about 45 minutes long. Really went through some basic things. His letters, upper and lower, numbers, colors, shapes, body parts, etc. I feel he went through with flying colors. He stumbled a little on the Q, R, G, and S. Skipped 14-16 while counting to 20. Didn't know where his wrist and heel was, but in all he had awesome remarks.

I get to call in tomorrow or Thursday to schedule a parent-student meeting. That's when we get to learn what teacher he will have and group he gets put in. We then get to place all his things into his classroom and he finally gets to see where he will finally be.

Might I add, labeling every crayon, erase, marker and book is really a huge pain in the ass Especially when he has 4 boxes of the same markers and crayons.

More updates of Kindergarten are soon to come.

And to end my entry with.....

Divorce.

Not much I can say here. I rushed to notarize some documents last week Friday. In return my lawyers response was,

"So looks like you'll be divorce in a couple weeks."

Not that the last 3 years of fighting for a divorce was a fucking breeze.

Action shot from Elana's Pantry.  Flapjacks... tastes way better than lumberjacks.

]]> http://stonecoldbluff.wordpress.com/2008/06/10/post-oak-bluff-not-in-low-limit-sit-n-go/ Tue, 10 Jun 2008 14:19:49 +0000 stonecoldbluff http://stonecoldbluff.wordpress.com/2008/06/10/post-oak-bluff-not-in-low-limit-sit-n-go/ Low limit sit n go’s are known for some crazy play and obvious moves. one to definitely look out for though is what I like to call the “Anti-post-oak-bluff” tell.

In case you’re not aware of what I’m talking about, a normal Post Oak Bluff is making a small bet (normally on river) in a reverse psychology effort to make them think that they are falling into a trap and therefore fold. However … How often have you seen in the low limit sit n go’s a short stack betting half or less of his / her stack into a monster pot?! Loads of times; trust me and they always have it!

Next time you see a short stack not putting all their chips in the pot .. beware!! You have been warned :D

The first event was initiated by Action Girl. One evening, the two of us had gone for a walk down some of the paths that snake through the woods around here. As we walked, darkness closed in sooner than we anticipated. I felt pretty good about taking the right trails back as we tripped on the exposed roots and rocks which seemed to suddenly fill the path. As we stumbled along, Action Girl somewhat jokingly told me to "channel my ancestors and get us home". You see, among all the European blood that flows through my veins, there is also a good dose of Native American Indian.

We made it home with no issues other than stubbed toes and I thought nothing of it. Action Girl happened to have cause to talk with our Indian arborist a week or so later and made some off the cuff remark about me using my Indian blood to find our way out of the woods. That caught his attention.

"He's part Indian?"
"Oh yah. You wouldn't know it by looking at him but he has family from two different tribes. His great grandmother lived on a reservation a ways up the coast."

Well, with out me realizing it, I had graduated to earning a head nod or even a two fingered wave from atop the steering wheel as he passed by. It caught me by surprise and it took effort on my part to not blow it by enthusiastically waving back or grinning like an idiot.

I am anything but stoic. My kids are DOOMED to be embarrassed by their dad.

The next thing that really got me in his "Okay guy" book was my son, Short Stack. My father had a tree that needed attention and hired our silent arborist to come take care of it. He showed up on the appointed day and climbed up the tree to take care of the offending, dead limbs. Short Stack was in the care of my folks that day and was helping Grandpa around the yard. As I've said before, Short Stack's number one recreation is driving his toy trucks. Number two however, is helping. He loves to help. You can get him to do just about anything by framing it as "help". Be prepared for enthusiastic truck noises that are apparently a necessity, though.

What our friend in the tree had, was a fantastic view of Short Stack running around in the yard, not playing, but really helping. Hauling little buckets of mulch, raking, watering flowers, his shoes and anything else from his knees down... for over two hours. He never stopped, whined, or got bored. For what ever reason, this impressed our stoic tree climber like nothing else could. When the cutting and trimming was done and his descent back to earth accomplished, he commented to my father about Short Stack's work ethic and told him that if he was still cutting trees in fourteen years, he'd hire him.

So now, I've gone from being, "That new guy who smiles too much" to "That part Indian who smiles too much but has the hard working kid."

Hey, I'll take what I can get.

Our stoic friend blew me away this weekend by actually crossing the street to come and talk to me about some trees on my parent's property, so... I guess I'm "in". I think he even smiled. Though come to think of it, I was holding Short Stack at the time.

Whatever.

To me, it's another little victory towards being accepted by my adoptive home and a step closer to not being "from away", as the locals put it. With a little luck, in another 15 to 20 years, they might even start referring to our house with our last name rather than the name of previous occupants.

Hmmm. Well, maybe in 25 to 30, anyway.
We'll make it. We're in it for the long haul.

When I sit up straight it feels like I'm ripping the staples and so I hunch. Which in turn is killing my back. Every step feels like a struggle, but Bob help me I can't just sit in one place. It hurts to lay down, it hurts to sit, and it definitely hurts to stand. So what am I to do?

Nothing much.

Just take my vicodin and hope for the best really. I"m quite amazed by Preston and Nyx.

Preston has really been awesome. He's taken everything by the reigns and I must admit he's doing an ok job on staying on top of things. Well minus the dishes. I just did them. I knew if I didn't they'd sit there just one more day. And besides I feel like eating on my dishes rather than the paper plates. :P

Nyx, man what can I not say?!?! He's been spectacular. I really can't wait for baby number 2. He's been helping me get up off the bed, couch, floor, anything really. He helps me lay down. He opens the car door for me and closes it when I'm buckled in. He holds my hand and really does his best to support me while I walk. He asks me if I need anything and is quite quick to get things done before he gets back to play or watching cartoons. It's just really amazing.

They both have their sense of humor of it all though. They both know I can't laugh because it hurts and I start to cry after a few giggles. Yes it's that bad. But when Nyx is walking with me he jokes and tells me to jog. He starts jogging in place and laughs. Preston well he tries to make me laugh because he knows it hurts. But then tries to get me to stop laughing when I start tearing up. Grr to them both.

I turned in the last of TDI papers for work and my timesheet. Which Preston gave me ample scoldings to leaving the house. I needed to do something. in all I'm doing a bit better compared to last several days.

I didn't sleep much today. Thank BOB! I was getting sick of sleeping already. I slept practically the last two days away. I'm able to eat solids again. But sadly I haven't been really hungry. I had half a spam musubi the other day. Half a container of tofu today, but not much more than that.

Sucks too because I feel like I could eat all these things, but then I'd rather stare at it than eat it. Weird.

In other news, J didn't pick Nyx up from school today. Mrs. S called us at 5:15pm to let us know that Nyx still hasn't been picked up and wanted to know if J was supposed to pick him up. Of course he was, but we went instantly to get him. We got there at 5:25pm and J still was no where in site, not even a phone call or text. I'm not complaining though. I don't mind a free weekend. It's his loss and my ultimate gain. :) Is there an evil smiley? >:)

It's now 734pm and still no word, oh well. Preston is cooking dinner and Nyx has no complaints. Honestly I don't care to call anymore. I called once, no answer, at least I tried. More than I wanted to do. Or care to do.

That's really it for now. I'm going to go Google some stuff of a Toyota Prius. Before my surgery I was listening to CNN and over heard that gas prices of the next couple years might/will be pushing the $10/gallon mark. So aiming for green and save dough is our goal.

Combine this with a fairly cold deck and before we knew it, we were one of the short stacks at the table.

Usually when you are playing short stack, you have a limited time before you can make your move. You are looking to be dealt any Ace, any pocket pair, or any two big face cards.

However, another angle that you should explore when deciding to make a do or die push, is your table position. Through playing against our opponents in the early stages of the tournament, we were able to establish who were the weak players, who were the lunatics, who were the aggressive players and who were the rocks.

Luckily enough for us, we had two rocks sat next to each other that would both be on the respective small and big blinds at the same time. We knew that if the table folded to us that we could lump all in with pretty much any two cards in an attempt to steal the blinds and gain a little bit of breathing room.

If the small blind was loose-aggressive and the big blind was tight passive, this move would not work because there is an increased chance of a call. You have to spot when the situation at the table is in your favour and have as much information at your disposal as possible before making your move.

In all fairness, there is no reason why you have to be short stacked or playing in a tournament at all to be able to make this move. Spot the weak players early on, and pile on the pressure to take full advantage of your fold equity.

To explain a little more what I am on about I shall paint you a picture.

Its a $50 Saturday night MTT. Out of 300 entries, you are down to the last 2 tables. 18 players left. Top 9 get paid. Blinds are 250/500. You are seated UTG+1 with average chips, the short stack is on the BB with 5,000 and the big stack is on the button with 100,000. You are dealt 83u and choose to fold. A wise move here. The table folds to the button who puts in a standard button raise making it 2,000 to go. Small blind pushes all in and the button folds.

WTF?

Why does the big stack fold? Who knows. In any situation where you are playing the big stack and someone goes all in preflop - if it costs you 10% or less of your stack you should CALL with any two cards. Even more so if it is a bounty tournament.

You are never a ten to one underdog in any situation. Even if you are holding 72u and they have AA, you will still win 12.5% of the time. And thats the WORST possible outcome.

Negative EV? Yes. But if calling is hardly going to damage your stack then its worth a pop to take out another player at the table. Even if you lose you get to flip over rags which should secure you a little more action next time you hold the nuts.

With playing a big stack comes big responsibility. Use it wisely and don't throw your bullying power away.

I drove over to North Camp for a pop at the £30 freeze out no limit hold em tournament. It started at 2pm so I knew one way or another I would be back home for the evening. There were 29 runners with top 4 getting paid.

I played a lot better that day than I thought I would. Usually the players at Sovereigns Poker are very loose but most of them know what they are doing. Often I play a standard tight aggressive game down there and I do ok from playing poker this way.

One of the hands I played was KK in middle position. I'm sat on about 6,000 in chips with blinds at 100/200. It's folded round to me so I decide to make it 800 to play. I don't want loose calls from raggy aces as the last thing I want is A4 calling me and catching on the flop. All fold to the button who calls. 234 rainbow on the flop. Button then pushes all in for 2,500. I'm now racking my brains and trying to recall his previous hands. What could he have? Its not A5 as this guy would play it a lot slower. So if its not a made hand then it must be a draw. AK is possible which would mean I face one over card and have one less out. 56 is possible, but then why dump with a made straight? Surely better for him to check it and hope the turn improves my hand so I bet at him. Small pocket pair is possible but why not push all in pre-flop? I decide that if he is on a draw, or has hit TPTK then I am still in front so I call.

My opponent turns over 33 for a set. Ouch. another 4 comes on the turn giving him the house and I tap the table to acknowledge a good catch before starting to count up my chips to pay him. Until another 4 comes on the river and gives me a better full house. Nice! I sent him packing and for once, all those times my opponents have sucked out on me, I get my revenge.

I scrape by the next few levels after the deck goes unbelievably cold for me. No same-suits or anything above a ten for a very long time. Until I pick up AQ in early position. I have a good raise, but because I have been so quiet for so long, the rest of the table respects my raise, all except the BB who flat calls. AQ8 rainbow. It gets checked to me so I put in a pot sized bet. My opponent is a very good player who knows when to raise and when to fold. I can never successfully put him on a hand. Im hoping he is married to a strong ace, even better if he has A8. He raises me back all in for another 2,000 on top which if I pay and lose, I am still in the game as I have him well covered. I insta-call and he flips over AK against my two pair. Another one bites the dust.

A couple more players drop by the wayside and before I know it, I'm playing the bubble. We had already made an agreement at the table that bubble place will get their money back, so essentially I know I'm not going home at a loss. What I wanted however was the win.

Looking round the table there were familiar faces from previous visits to this venue, but no one I knew really well. The guy to the left of me was playing with a PKR card guard and he looked like he still lives at home. This screamed novice player to me and as I watched him play I noticed he was a very tight player. So tight that a few hands before the bubble he was short stacked to 4 BBs and HAD to push UTG. I thought he was just making a move and I unfortunately doubled up his JJ vs my AQ.

We are playing 5 handed and the blinds are getting very, very harsh. I'm struggling to defend my blind and I am running low on chips. I'm down to about 3.5 BBs and now sitting on the SB. It's not looking good - I know I need to make a move sometime soon. Tight PKR player on my left was consistently giving up his blind to even the slightest amount of pressure so I thought I would steal it given the chance. Fold, fold, fold, just me and the BB. So as not to give anything away, I pretend to look my my cards and push all in. I don't care what I've got. It makes no difference. I want his blind, it's the only way to survive a little longer and going on previous history, he will fold. He's got to fold.

He calls. He flips up A8. I hope I've got something good and I explain I went all in blind as I turned my hole cards over one by one. Q is the first card, ok not too bad, 4 is the second card. O dear. No help from anywhere busts me out of the tourney on the bubble.

As I go up to collect my pitiful "winnings" I can't help but kick myself for making such a ridiculous move. Why did I push in that position? Forgetting that I should never have been that low in chips to start with, I still had potential to see another 3 pairs of hole cards before looking to double up. I should have looked at my cards, taken the hit of the SB and waited for either an ace, or UTG to push. At least that way if I had an ace I Ive got half a shout at winning, or if I am UTG then at least I have no option but to push.

What a waste of an afternoon. But I like to look at it this way; it is a lesson learned. A very strong lesson which has helped me to keep my head together in subsequent tournaments I have played.

Assess each hand on its own individual merits, and don't play like a blind donkey, literally.

You see I had to do my little MTV "blur" thingy on the syrup. No FREE product placements..$$ Ch-Ching!!

BREAKFAST! Definitely my favorite meal of all. I love good food as much as I love good music. I guess I just love good stuff, period. I love good people too. Good places to shop, good movies and good restaurants. But the one thing I don't think so good, is when I see this on the menu of diners/restaurants: (Breakfast served until 11am). OUCH!!

I need to be able to eat breakfast at ALL times of the day. What's wrong with these places? It's easier to whip up a short stack faster than it is to thaw, season and grill some meat...AINT IT?? (pardon the incorrect grammar..but ain't it better than cursing)

Where are all the people that LOVE breakfast? The ones who can eat pancakes at 1 am in the morning just because they have the taste for some good ol' eggs, milk, batter, cinnamon and vanilla.

Cheers to all the good people who love a good breakfast...

Oh one last thing...When I was in Atlanta for Trev and Maisha's wedding some years ago, his brother Tommy and I went to the Waffle House. I'm crazy excited about having some good old southern styled breakfast, and I ask the young lady for a "TALL stack of pancakes"...she replies.."Dis is the Waffle House!..." So I'm like, OK...can I have a SHORT stack of pancakes then?
She says..."I SAID this is the WAFFLE HOUSE."
Me and my "HUNGRY" Northern-self, firmly replies... "OK! What KIND of pancakes do you have then??"

She says slowly (southern accent included)..."THIS....IS...the ....WAFFLE....house!".....
Humbly I say...."hmm..ok...sorry. what kind of WAFFLES do you have then".....LOL
darn yankee

Let's start with last week Friday night, it's like after 12am and I'm off to bed. And guess what? I wake up an hour later with the most killer back pain. It was shooting up, down, left, right just damn near all over my back. I tossed and turn trying to find the most comfortable position. I ended up grabbing the floor futon and trying to lie on the floor. Nope. The pain then start spreading to my chest.

You know the feeling you get when you are going down a roller coaster or when you start going down on an elevator? Its that weird "my gut just shifted into my chest" feeling. Highly uncomfortable when you have it for over 4 hours and every breath you take you feel like chunks are going to fly out.

Around 7am Saturday morning I felt Preston got enough sleep and I cried, literally I cried, for a back massage. I finally fell asleep. He took care of Nyx for a few hours and I finally got up at around 1030am. I wanted to babysit my nephew Baby K that day. Get Nyx used to little ones and Preston to understand the feeling of 2 kids.

Let's just say with a 4 year old and a 1 year old the day was not uneventful. It was more intense. Nyx was very competitive. Any time I gave Baby K a complement Nyx was sure to follow with, "I'm eating really good too mom." . . . "I can take bigger bites mom." . . . "I don't use diapers mom." I was cool with it though. I knew it was to be expected. Preston, well, he was a different story. He got strung out on having two wee ones. I had fun though.

Sunday was uneventful, but once again I had that incredibly monstrous back pains. Now that I'm thinking about it, maybe they were sympathy pains. Ya know because of Mo's pregnancy. Maybe that's it.

Nonetheless, I had a horrible nights rest on Sunday. Oh wait let me add to the pain. Once I was finally able to fall asleep Nyx started crying at 430. No more than 2 hours after I finally fell asleep, crying might I add. Nyx tossed and turned in his bed, finally giving in and climbing into our bed where he then got fed up with sleeping next to us that he grabbed his stuff and migrated back to his room at around 530am. Keeping track here? My alarm is set to go off at 6am. I laid there till then. Nyx and I were not on good terms by then. Me with the lack of sleep and Nyx not wanting to explain to me why he was crying or what was hurting.

Off to school and work we go. I picked him up 2 hours later because he couldn't stop crying he was literally in pain. Pain in which he couldn't explain to me. By this time he has already been crying for almost 5 hours.

Monday was then spent driving around trying to find out what's wrong with Nyx. His regular pediatrician wasn't able to see him till 330 and I knew I couldn't wait that long so we had to put up with Dr. Wotring. With a name like that it I reluctantly wanted to see him. He couldn't find anything wrong with my son and suggested I see his dentist because Nyx claims the pain is coming from his mouth. But in case of a possible infection we were prescribed antibiotics.

For the last 8 years I've been going to Longs for all of our prescriptions and why is it that day it took them over an hour to find my insurance information?!?!! Do they not see my son and I are both extremely tired, my son is crying nonstop and we just want to make this FAST?!?!?! I found children's tylenol and finally Nyx calmed down, it was as if nothing was wrong with him. Thank you tylenol.

We headed over to our dentist, same dentist he went to almost 2 years ago and refused to cooperate. It was bad enough where they remembered him. I was advised that if he didn't cooperate they would send him to a "specialist." But do you honestly think that things could possibly go smoothly? Of course not. Nyx screamed and yelled. All he had to do was say "aaahhhh," no poking, just looking. Nope. He cried, and cried, and cried some more. Instantly an appointment was made for us to see the "specialist," on Tuesday.

What do I mean by specialist? Why dentists and dentist nurses are specially trained to hold down kids and open their mouths. Doesn't that sound like fun?!?!

We finally got home around 230pm Nyx is still crying, falling in and out of sleep, and no way of truly consoling him. He cried to much that he clogged his sinus enough that he couldn't pop his ears. How do I know this because he started freaking out about "hearing voices in his head," and that "he couldn't hear his voice."

It was a horrible Monday night.

Yesterday, Tuesday, was much much better. In some sense. Our appointment was at 930. Nyx promised to cooperate and open his mouth. I explained to him what might happen if he didn't. And I really thought they were just going to take some x-rays and clean his teeth or something. I was wrong. They talk to us for all of 5 minutes. Had him in the seat with 10 seconds, examined his teeth and found out which tooth was the culprit in less than 30 seconds and were drilling at his tooth within 2 minutes of being in the room. Nyx probably thinks I'm the biggest liar in the world. Two nurses holding him down, the dentist holding his head, and me?! Me being forced to hold his hands. Nyx cried, kicked, and fought to hard to get out of there. They drilled down to the nerve of his molar, filled it with this white stuff and gave him that silver crowning thing. We then had a consult, set up his check up for June and were sent off on our merry way. We were out of there by 10:14.

Fast recap appointment at 930. I got there at 923. I filled out at least 10 pages of paper work, waited another 10 minutes, consult, drill, consult, set up another appoint and off I was sent by 10:14. I think it went so fast that Nyx was still in a daze.

I felt horrible, but ya know what? Nyx didn't cry again, the pain was gone, the voices were too, and he was back to being his happy chipper self again. But now when he smiles, I feel like I ruined his smile. His right second from the back molar is silver.

He calls it his bling bling. Damn this kid sometimes.

Technophile though I may be, I'd have to admit that I think what we're seeing these days is not so much the triumph of new media over old media, but the mash up of new media and old media -- much like Hera and Nicky (the Cylon / human hybrids for those of you who have the misfortune to not be Battlestar Galactica fans).

So the venerable Gray Lady, for example, started an online-only section called City Room. And several book sections also feature blogs: the Boston Globe has Off the Shelf, the Chicago Sun-Times The Book Room, the Dallas Morning News Texas Pages, the Ft. Lauderdale Sun-Sentinel's Off the Page, the LAT Jacket Copy, the NYT Paper Cuts and Reading Room and the Washington Post Short Stack.  Former DM-N BRE Jerome Weeks now blogs at Bookdaddy and now-retired Philly Inky BRE Frank Wilson continues to blog at Books, Inq.  On the other side of the coin, many bloggers have made inroads into the print community. When Wilson retired, a slew of lit bloggers who have reviewed for that publication posted fond farewells. Or Carolyn Kellogg, the blogger behind Pinky's Paperhaus, now has a regular gig with Jacket Copy.

What does this mean for book promotion? More flexibility. Our media contacts who once were limited to only one medium can now bring their writing to multiple audiences. Happy Monday. :)

Things were finally looking good for nap time and I was scouting a place to pull off and get out my book. Then I saw it. Once again, I was glad that I don't travel with out a digital camera. I drove on for a bit longer and waited to find out if Short Stack was really out. As soon as his hat was slumped down over his eyes and the breathing got regular, I doubled back to check and see if what I though I saw was really true. It was. This was what it looked like as I drove by...

I stepped out of the car to make a closer inspection. It was true. A marshmallow and sugar confection tree of pain.

Monsters! Who could have done this?! Don't they know the accepted form of Peep capital punishment is to subject them to confinement in the dark, back of a cupboard until they turn to a substance that can only be described as the bastard child of packing peanuts and old chewing gum?

This gruesome reminder of Easter makes me feel a bit guilty about my total lack of Peep eating this year. When I was a kid, they were a possession to be prized. They only came out once a year and they were a much sought after sugar high in a box. They came built with the wonderful excuse that if they weren't all devoured in a single day, then they would be inedible the next morning. I know, I know. There are those of you out there who like 'em stale. It's your preference that they should be initially hard as bricks and then, after an hour or so of working on it, as chewy as eating a garden hose... and I say unto you, "Weirdoes".

Now Peeps are a year 'round affair. They are available for every possible holiday in every possible color. For me, that kind of ruins it. When it's not something to look forward to, almost forgotten from year to year, then the yellow sugar just doesn't glimmer as seductively as it once did. I passed them by, these gems of my past because I know that soon there will be more Peeps in many different forms and colors. All in an effort to match what ever holiday comes next. It's just not the same.

The Bunny has made his deliveries for this year, but the Peeps remain. Some in half eaten baskets of Easter grass, some slowly shriveling up and turning to cement in the back of drawers while others do their time stoically and prominently, impaled on the lower branches of a tree by the ocean, ignored by even the sea gulls, who as you may or may not know, will eat just about anything. I guess when it comes to Peeps, they prefer them fresh as well, thus earning them some points in my book. Thank goodness that I didn't need to explain this abomination to my two year old son. Action Girl liked the photos, though.

All this makes last night far more painful. Last night, Short Stack was sound asleep, yet Action Girl and I were wide awake... for hours... and hours. It was awful. We had initially woken up to deal with our kiddo, who needed a pants change and a fresh bottle, but he was quickly back in bed and playing with candy penguins and dump trucks full of cookies. I actually heard him laugh in his sleep at one point. For various reasons, neither of us could manage to fall back to sleep. It was crazy-making. Action Girl gave up first and moved to the sofa down stairs. I shortly followed and took up residence on the other sofa. As I sat there sipping my warm milk and looking out at the front yard, I remembered the worst... by far, WORST night we had ever had together.

About seven years ago we had been traveling through Europe on the cheap. It's hard to imagine, but you used to be able to do that. We were traveling cheap partially because funds were limited but also because we were with with my best friend and "brother", The Doctor. The Doctor is a year younger than I and we have been best friends since we met in a combined 3rd/4th grade class room back during the Velour Shirt Age. We are both only children and we have always referred to our selves as brothers. He has always been part of my life. I can always count on him. He has a heart the size of the moon, an intellect that astounds me on an regular basis and he can be unbelievably cheap at times.

We had traveled together, the three of us, for about two weeks. We had been having a great time and seen a lot. Mostly we had stayed in youth hostels and for those who have never tried this, they they can often be pretty awful. The noise, the crummy beds, the drunk fifteen year olds. Ahh, good times. We had endured quite a few of this sort of establishment when by accident, we happened across the best B&B ever in Oberammergau, Germany. It's called der Gasthaus Rose. It's been tarted up a bit since we were there, but even then, it was like an oasis of civilized living, and back then, very inexpensive to boot! After all the fun and excitement of hosteling, this place was heaven. We were going to spend one night. We spent three.

The travel plans were to go from Oberammergau to Munich and from there to Prague. The Doctor was getting impatient sitting in a sleepy, little alpine village and wanted to get on the trail again. We elected for just one more night of down duvets and pastoral serenity. His offer was to head out a day ahead of us and secure lodging for the three of us in Prague. We'd get one more night in Oberammergau and he'd greet up at the train station when we arived. His insistence was he would take the night train and thus, not miss out on a day of exploration that would other wise be lost in travel. We would take the same train the next day. We agreed and he pushed off, traveling pack attached to his back like a giant nylon tick. The two of us walked into the town, spent too much money on a wonderful day and shuffled off for a happy evening in the shadows if the Alps. We had no idea how much we would be cudgeled by fate the next night. The Ammer river snaked through the village, looking for all the world like it was made of Sapphire Gin and the cow bells could be heard up in the low pastures. It was so beautiful just then. It was going to get ugly tomorrow.

(Oberammergau in 1900. It isn't all that different today. Just more tour busses and fewer horses.)

More tomorrow.

But I must say I could have definitely lived without the long flights. But my son had flying all that much better. No sarcasm there. He loved the long 6.5 hour flight to Phoenix. Even the 4 hour flight to Philadelphia. And yes even the short hour flight to Albany. Every take off he made it seem like it was his first time. Which I must say even excited me.

We were so anxious to touch the snow, feel the icy cold breeze, and above all see Naomi and Devin. It was 6 months since I last saw them and I missed them so much. Once we landed in Albany I knew the next 8 days were just going to be amazing. And what better way to end the year than with family/friends that want you there the most?

Of course we couldn't start our 8 day adventure without some good ole IHOP. Eating some real food was just amazing after flying for a total of 13 hours. When we got there it was 28 degrees. Definitely the coldest weather I've ever been in.

Now that I am finally coming to realize the down fall of not blogging the last 2 weeks I wish I could have at least blogged at the end of everyday. But hey I did it old school, pen and paper.

It snowed only 2 days though. There was snow when we got there, but most of it melted. But it really snowed at the perfect time. New Years eve eve, it snowed about 7 inches and the next day it snowed another 3 or 4. It was nice. Correction. It was BEAUTIFUL. Simply breath taking. I was so entranced by it that I could almost trade in all the Hawaii sunsets for Delmar snow storms. I'm serious.

Short Stack was beyond excited. He was closer to borderline having near death convulsions and seizures because he was so excited and amazed by the snow. Although I kept the most watchful eye on him every where he saw fresh white soft snow he ate it. He just dived in and ate it. OK I admit it. I did too. But hey so did Naomi. Figured she lived there it must be safe. Nothing is wrong with her -ish.

We went ice skating at The Egg in the Empire State Plaza. Which was eventful to say the least. My adoring son gave us so much rash for not rushing to get him to the skating rink. So anxious to get there, but growing more and more upset at each stop we made that wasn't the skating rink. Yelling at us because we were trying to buy him galoshes and yelling "That is NOT skating shoes. They are ugly. WE NEED TO GO SKATING!!" Please remember he has never ice skated ever.

We get there, he face lights up. We get our ice skates, his energy level sky rockets, we walk back up to the rink he is jumping out of his pants, and we touch the ice. . . . . .  "NO! I HATE THIS! I can't skate! This is not nice! I want to go home!"

. . . . . .  what?

We tried and tried and tried again. No he screamed, he kicked, he cried, and he attracted about a good 15 people to our corner of the rink to stare and watch. Might I add New Yorkers are very nosy. Jeez, like they've never seen a child cry and throw a temper tantrum. So we got his shoes and he walked the ice. He finally had fun then.  So maybe another vacation, we'll try again.

Our next adventure, why you must have guessed, a water park. In the dead of winter. DUH! Let me give you good advice. You can't find a place in any mall, outlet, or damn near anymore in New York selling a bathing suit in December. WHO KNEW?!

Here's another amazing thing. . . .  we were walking through Crossgates Mall and I see a very family yellow sign. We get closer and closer, then Naomi confirms it. . . .  it's a damn Pacific Suncoast, PacSun. WTF?! Pacsun? East Coast? mmmm ok. No bikinis, but board shorts! In fact every shop we went to they gave us some damn near wierd, confused, and frankly dumbfounded looks. In the end I borrowed Nai's bikini top and bought some new nifty board shorts. My ass is bigger than Nai's so that would have never worked.

The water park was actually a part of this lodge, of which I don't think I ever knew the name of the park. But it was fun. Very interesting to see the snow above us on the windows, but swimming around at the same time. But that water park also marked Short Stacks first "big kid ride". It was like the white water rafting ride. He must have enjoyed it because he went on 4 times.

The next thing was New Years Eve, spent in Saratoga Springs. Though I wish I could have watched the ball drop in Time Square, it was not worth having my son, or even my best friend, abducted. We ended up finding out that 54 kids were abducted last year. Of which Nai commented since we would be so focused on keeping our hands and eyes on Short Stack that Nai would most likely be abducted because she looks 13, lol.

I am so glad we went to Saratoga Springs instead. The whole main street was set up for different activities, though we missed some of them. It was great none the less. Just before midnight we headed to the car, sat on top and counted down, errr I mean talked and joked till we saw the fireworks and realized it was the end of 2007! We drank our wine, hugged, I called my boyfriend, and then climbed our frozen asses off the top of the car. We were lucky enough to avoid and beat all traffic.

Can't go to New York without visiting New York city. We did all the tourist things. Empire State Building, ferry to Stanton Island, see the Lady Liberty, Union Square, China town, and of course Time Square. In which Nai and Dev so devilishly got me hooked on what has the be the best Indian restaurant, damn the most restaurant, I've ever been to. It's called Milon , it's on 93rd First Avenue between 5th and 6th. It was so much fun, the music, the decor, the atmosphere, and the amazing energy the waiters have. Might I add the food was amazing, the prices were decent, and it was simply just the best eatting experience ever. I must recommend if you are in town check the place out. I promise you won't regret it.

After a full day in New York city and freezing cold we headed home. Oh I have to add one more thing. When we first got there, right after leaving the car at the parking lot, I swear I thought we were going to be beaten by the pedestrians. We were trying to get Short Stack to wear his sweater, of which after all that time he still wasn't accustomed to all the layers he fought and screamed. Since it was 19 degrees when we got there we felt it was absolutely necessary he wear his sweater. So Devin ended up holding him down, while Nai and I shoved his arms through the sleeves, and my son did what he does best kick and scream. People were standing and staring at us, until one of them finally asked, "What are you doing to that boy?!?!" UMMM well what else?!!??! "Putting his sweater on." While I thought in my head, "because if you haven't noticed it is freezing cold and my son only has a thin shirt on. So the sweater is necessary DER!"

We spent the last couple days just spending some quality time together and getting some gifts to bring back home.

It really was the best vacation I ever had and I really want to start planning our next trip. But I'm glad to be back home. I missed my boyfriend and the warm air. After all that, my son now has a stomach flu, meaning the beautiful scent of vomit and the breath taking art of diarrhea.

Tonight I'll be able to get some photos, maybe a video up.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

OK I realized it's 2:06am so probably not.

So my son's Wish List went like this, Power Rangers, Legos, and Transformers. But with a big emphasis on Transformers and huge exclamations on Bumblebee.

So there was mainly only one on my mind. The Ultimate Bumblebee. Of which I thought I had to buy from eBay at a jacked up price because Oahu and Kauai were all sold out. Grrrr to them. But I was lucky that on the tiniest whim I checked my Wal-mart one last time and AHA!! It was there. The only one! I swept in and bought it before someone else saw it. I wrapped it up the best I can and made sure it was the last gift my son opened.

To see his face light up, claim "this is my favorite!", and fancifully - if that's a word - did a great dance for me. Of which I share with you.
[livevideo id=DriftJunky]

Last year he only got one shot it really wasn't that. His shot record is almost completely filled so I didn't think he would get any shots this time. Oh how wrong I was.

He wasn't afraid to go. It was more like he was looking forward to it. I think it may be because he came with me to see my doctor the day before and I got off fine. So why should his doctor be any different?

He didn't have to lay on the scale anymore. He got to stand on the "big boy" scale like a grown up. He weighs 36lbs.

Then they measured him. Though I think he was slouching. He stands funny when he knows someone wants to check his height. He does this weird stance, but according to them he is 38.5 inches tall roughly 3ft. 2.5 inches.

His blood pressure I think read 101 / 62. Atleast those are the numbers I remember reading and hearing the nurse call out.

Here's the fun part.

I talked with his doctor. Really nice lady. It's actually J's pediatrician. Who knew she would still be there?! But she's really cool and nice. Short Stack seems to like her.  She did her normal thing. Check the lungs, his adomen, booty, and ask her regular questions. (i.e. does he know his first and last name, say his abc's, count to 10, hop on one foot, etc etc.) All were yes. So if Short Stack continues on this growing track he'll peak out at 5'7" 140lbs. Kind of small, but it's not like his parents are very tall or big to begin with. So I guess if he wants to play some football he has to beef up.

I asked her about his problem with being congested at night, she said it could be allergies. So she prescribed me some medicine to try out and see if it clears up the problems. It could be due to the change in seasons and the fact that we live on the West Side is pretty dusty. That's probably it because my sinuses kills me at night too. Grr. We should move.

Then came the shots. Can you guess how many he got? 1? hahaha he wishes. 3? hahaha I wish. 4? Puh-lease. Try 6! He got 6 shots. 2 in each leg and 1 in both arms. My poor baby was pissed off. The nurse that hav been administering his shots for the last 3 years opted to not do it. My son recognized her from the get go and refused to even say hi to her. lol. So a new nurse gave him his shots. I'm sure she is now banned from my son's life. She felt horrible. I felt horrible. And Short Stack, no words can ever describe his feelings. He was sore, pissed, and needing some loving.

Within those shots, it covered - if I can remember - polio, measles, mumps, DTaP, rubella, chicken pox, and the flu shot. I know I am missing one more. He should be invincible now. lol. I'm kidding. But I am one of those parents that will vaccinate my child for damn near everything.

After we went to eat at McDonald's and get him a new present to congratulate him for how well he did. He got a small fever the next day, but he kicked it before the end of the day. He's fine now and very happy he doesn't have to go back till next year.

That's if J doesn't make it sooner.

Our Birth Story.

A long time ago, more like 4 years ago to this very moment I was studying for my finals the next day, I was going off on remember specific formulas, capacitive and inductive resistance, while writing my English paper. I was two days late and felt like I was pregnant for almost a decade. Okay maybe not a decade, but definitely a long long ass time.

On top of studying for finals my body felt different, it was weird. It was like my body was telling me "do not call it a night, you should stay up, and do not settle in." Regardless, I ignored the signs my body was telling me and called it a night. The moment I laid down I 'wet' myself. Yes ladies and gentlemen my water broke at exactly midnight of Dec. 8th, 2003. I got up to a massive pile of water on my bed. I went to wake J (my son's bio-dad) and he said I peed the bed. I then told his mom, she said I peed the bed. You would think a woman who was nurse for 20 years, 9 of which was labor and delivery, she would know the difference between my water breaking and accidentally peeing. Nonetheless, she cleared my bed and told me to go back to sleep. I was paranoid and pissed off. NO one wanted to drive me to the hospital. So to prove her wrong I laid down and I 'wet' the bed again. And that was the final draw, I was finally being put into the car. Of which J was so paranoid I would wet the seat he laid massive amount of towels everywhere.

When I got to the E.R. it was close to 1am and even the nurse there had to ask me if I was sure I didn't pee myself. Come on people I think I would know the difference. Then here's the kicker, the nurse asked me if I brought my underwear in which I 'wet' myself. MER? No I cleaned up and changed. By 2am I had my own room and lacked any contractions. They already notified my mid-wife and she wouldn't see me until I started having contractions. I was anxious and excited I couldn't sleep. Even though all the nurses said I had a long day ahead of me and I should sleep, I just couldn't. Mind you at this point I haven't slept in over 24 hours. But I had adrenaline rushing through me nothing could possibly knock me out right now.

I ended up watching Nick Jr., Cartoon Network and MTV most of the night. I finally called my stepmom when the sun was up and besides J she was the only person I wanted in there. No matter how much pain I was in I didn't want any pain killers. No epidural! Nothing. All Natural. I am pretty good and being able to meditate and focus on outside things to move past the pain, but still my contractions weren't much. A little after noon I felt like I had to take a massive poop, it hurt. A lot. lol.

That's when the real labor began. I don't remember much of it. Sadly. But what I do remember was crazy. I regret not making it to my Lamaze class because for the life of me I couldn't figure out what muscle to push with. Then with the pain it made it harder to focus on that muscle. My stepmom was a great support person because J just wasn't all there and it really fucking sucked. This nurse ended up tricking me when I was at the peak of my contraction and asked if I want the advil pain medicine of the pain killer line for labor. Which if I could remember what it was I would recommend you to NEVER take it. Because it did NOT take the edge off of the pain, instead I started hallucinating. Every moment I closed my eyes it felt like I went off into dream land where I argued with my classmate T. Every time I closed my eyes I felt like they were closed for an hour, when in actuality it was only 2 seconds.

This is where I don't remember too much. I was delirious and having hard time focusing on outside things because of this stupid "advil". I remember at one time I looked down and there were two wires that were tapped to my leg and went down my leg. Now I know that wasn't there before. From the tidbits during my labor to what I learned after the nurses, my midwife, and my doctor kept losing my son's heartbeat and when they found it his heart beat it was really low. They would lose his heartbeat during every contraction. What that was narrowed down to was that he was being crushed every contraction. So they had to put that screw into his head to monitor his heart. I understand now why they didn't tell me too much because I probably would have had a heart attack.

When he started to crown it was like the world became clearer and the fog this stupid 'pain killer' created was clearing out. I was offered a mirror to see his head. It was the greatest incentive for me to work harder. I wanted to hold him so bad.

I may have only been in labor for 6.5 hours but it felt like the whole week. But at 6:28pm my son, my Short Stack, my life was born. his Agpar 9, respectively. Weighing in at 9 lbs. 3.3 ounces at 22 inches long. I heard him let out a healthy cry. I saw him being held by the nurse. And at 6:29 I held him for the first time. I saw his swollen eyes and ruby red lips. I felt his fingers wrap around my finger. It was at that very moment that my life finally started. I waited 19 long years to understand what love really is. 19 years to start my life. 19 years to find out I was not complete until I became a mother. 19 years is a long time, but I would wait another 19 if I had to for my son.

Today, it's been 4 amazing years. Without you hunny I would never be where I am at. I would have never went to school. I would have never kicked the drugs and drinking. I would have never been happy. I would never be me.

For as long as I am walking, crawling, or wheeling around on this earth and there after I will be there creating a trillion memories with you, savoring every second of every day, sharing a million laughs every moment and never missing a single beat.

Thank you for choosing me. I love you baby. Happy 4th Birthday!