31. Answered Questions

1. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?
This is a difficult question.  I would be tempted to say someone famous.  But I would be too nervous and weird, and would say something dumb.  I would say my family: mom, dad, Jessica, Rebecca, Aaron and Bertie.

2. Would you like to be famous? In what way?
Short answer, no.  Long answer, maybe.  If I could be famous, but unknown, like most authors, or artists. Where maybe your name is known, but not who you are.

3. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?
Not out loud.  But in my head a little.  I like to be prepared.

4. When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?
I sang to myself in the car on the way home from work. I sang to Bertie today.

5. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?
I would want to keep my mind.  My body is not useful if my brain is mush.

6. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?
Cancer.

7. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common.
We are dorks. We like playing cards. We have the same goals in life.

8. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?
My family.

30. Remember the small things

Little Bertram things

• Yesterday in the car (I was sitting in back with him), he grabbed my arm, hugged it and said I love you.  
• Just now (3am) I heard him fussing, so I went to check on him.  "Tuck in my toes".  This is a common request.
• He likes quoting Phineas and Ferb. Specifically 'doofenshmirtz evil incorporated', 'Meep', and saying Trapped!, because Perry always gets trapped.
• He's really starting to enjoy playing with his cousins.
• He loves books.
• His giggle is the best sound.

29. Higher Education

Both of my parents were the first (and only) in their families to go to college. Dad got a BS and two masters. Mom got her RN and BSN.

I was determined to continue the trend. I did well in high school and got into most of the schools I applied to. I ended up at the local state school. My parents paid for school. I enjoyed it, for the most part. But I didn't have a solid goal. I really wanted to major in Biology. I wanted it a lot, I loved biology. Unfortunately, at my school, a Bio major required a chem minor. And try as I might, I could not get chem. I really wanted to, it was very interesting. But even after hours of group and individual study, I only got a C. (The minimum needed to pass chem 1.)

After that I switched to my other passion, art. I liked the art major even more. But most classes were studio classes, which were 6+ class hours a week. It is really had to take all the required classes, because there isn't enough time. So it takes a long time to complete.

On top of this, I was working 20 hours a week, so some of my days were lost to that.

After 5 years of college, I had a lot of credits, but not enough in any subject to graduate.

Then we moved, and that was it for college. I worked full time until I had Bertie.

I day dream about finishing, but there isn't much of a point, except to say I did it. I don't have plans or dreams of a career. And unfortunately a degree doesn't mean what it used to.

My little sister got her degree. I couldn't be prouder, but also disappointed in myself.

But there is always one day...

28. Roughing it

We were not a camping family growing up.  Mom never was, dad never was, and us kids never were.  We still aren't.  I've been camping one time, and that was enough.

But in my youth, when we were in Virginia, we would visit 1000 Trails. I think, as an adult, I wouldn't be excited by 1000 trails.  I think it may be a step up from KOA.  But as a kid, oh my goodness, I was always so excited.  We stayed in cabins, they had everything a normal house would, except maybe a tv.  There was a mini golf course, a pool, a small arcade, ping pong, and it was right on a lake, or river.  Like the beach, we went with the extended family, so I had a lot of fun with my cousins.

I asked mom how often we went, because I felt like it was quite a few times, but she said it was only a few.

That was as close to roughing it as we ever got, thankfully.

27. The Pepper Incident and other early memories

This is an actual memory.  I was between 2.5-3, but I remember this pretty well.

We were living in Colorado.  And out to eat at some restaurant with a salad bar.  It should be mentioned that (much like Bertie) I love pickles, and I have from a young age.  On one trip from the salad bar, my mom brought me a pickle.  I popped it in my mouth.  Except it wasn't a pickle, it was a hot pepper.  I cried, and asked why she gave me that.  She kept saying sorry, sorry.  I was then a bit distrustful of her bringing me pickles.

On the first day at the Colorado house, I fell down the wooden steps.

I remember the nightmare that had me sleeping on my parents floor for months.

And I remember we had a mud room in from the back yard.

26. Child Labour

Growing up we didn't have specific chores, like other kids did.  We were asking to do things, and we did them.  Things like emptying the dishwasher, taking out the recyclables and picking up our junk.

On some occasions we had to help with yard work, which was the worst. Our house didn't have a typical front and back yard with grass and a tree, or a few bushes.  We lived on the side of a hill, and the front yard was all bushes and a few tree, the back yard was a deck and a lot of bushes and trees.  We didn't have any lawns at all.  So when major yard work had to be done we had to carry stuff from the back yard to the front and it was the worst thing that there ever was.  Or it was in our little kids minds.

Thinking on it now, we probably didn't have to do it too long, or often.  And at the time I remember thinking I'll never force my kids to do yard work when I'm a grown up.  But I will, of course.  Sorry young Rachel, you lose on this one.

25. A couple other times I was a bad kid

At some point when I was little, maybe around 4, I was at the department store with Nanny and mom.  I don't know how it happened, or what I was doing, but I managed to knock over a mannequin.  People came rushing over to make sure I was okay.  My mom was understandably angry.  Nanny thought it was hilarious.

When I was 5 or 6, I went to a bakery with mom while Jessica was having some dental work done. (I think.  That's how I remember the beginning, but it might not be right).  There was this beautiful wedding cake sitting on the low counter.  And, wanting to know if it was real, I stuck my finger in it.  The baker was pissed.  My mom wasn't mad, because you shouldn't put a real (non-display) wedding cake where it can get messed up.  Though, she did tell me to just ask if it was real in the future.

Around the same age, or maybe a little older, I complained of a headache.  It was a bad headache that just wouldn't go away.  Mom tried all the home and OTC remedies, but nothing helped.  So we went to the doctor, who suggested a head x-ray.  On the way home from the x-ray, I confessed that I never had a headache, I just wanted to see what would happen.  I'm pretty sure she was mad about that one.

24. A smattering of Jessica and Rachel shenanigans.

Here are some of the things we were up to as kids:

• At a carpet store, we climbed the pyramid of carpet rolls.  Dad said to come down, to which I said to Jessica "We don't have to listen to him."  It turned out we did.
• We used my mom's Toyota's windshield as a slide.
• When we were really little (3 and 4ish) we would pee in the backyard.  I don't know why.  I think we were pretending to be cats, and that's what cats do.
• Once when we were in the bath, we cover ourselves with soap suds, and told mom we were ghosts.
• We had an imaginary ghost that lived in our room.  (At least I assume he was imaginary).  We called him shadow.
• We would run through the racks of clothes at the store, but I think all kids do this.
• We dressed up Drummer (the cat) on more than one occasion (or at least attempted to).
• When Rebecca was a baby, we would pull on the corners of her mouth and say "Happy, sad, happy, sad" and giggle like mad.

23. Terrible family trips

My parents tried to take us to do fun things from time to time. We drove to Reno or Vegas a handful of times. The trips were mostly terrible. I can only really remember the last one.

We went to Laughlin (I think) before going to Vegas. We drove on this really desolate road. I was driving, I think I had my learners. We were on the desolate road, the fuel gauge said we were really low, and I really needed to pee. We were all grumpy. We made it to the hotel. But it was so hot, and buggy. And Jessica was upset because it wasn't Vegas, so eveything was different. I was a mopey teen because I missed my boyfriend.
It wasn't any better when we got to Las Vegas. Jessica was still grumpy, I was still mopey. Dad insisted we walk places, despite it being 115° outside.
That was the last road trip we went on as a family. God, we were ungrateful kids.

We went to Reno in the winter. I think Rebecca either wasn't born or she was little. I remember that being a fun trip, because there was snow. And the drive is only 4 hours (Vegas is 10ish).

On one of the Vegas (or maybe Reno?) trips we stayed in a motel off the strip. It was a terrible place. And the in the middle of the night there was a biker rally in the parking lot. It was so loud, and a little scary.

I have some good memories of our trips, but mostly it wasn't worth my parents' efforts.

22. More memories of the farm

• Catching frogs/toads
• Catching lightning bugs
• Playing on the slip and slide on the hill with cousins.
• Walking down the crunchy gravel road
• Playing hide and seek with the cousins
• Sitting at the kids table
• Petting the cows noses through the fence
• The tall, tall trees on the edge of the yard
• How soft and warm the dirt in the garden was
• The trailer house that was at the pond, in its 70's decorated splendor
• Digging up little muscles or clams in the creek
• Grandpa letting us drive his truck
• The old blue bike I would ride around
• The hum of the crickets, frogs, cicadas (and whatever else)
• How we would always unbuckle our seat belts as soon as we turned on to the country road
• How nanny always says "Hi Darlin'!"
• And the smell of her Shalimar
• The time when Rebecca was little, and walked through the tall grass.  She was covered in tiny ticks. 
• The warm summer rain
• The braided rug, under the table in the kitchen

21. How anxiety kept me safe.

As previously mentioned, I've dealt with anxiety for almost as long as I can remember.  I'd always thought of myself as a rule follower (especially after the incident mentioned yesterday).  I didn't want to be in trouble, and the rules were the best way to do that.  As time went on, I also didn't want to be noticed, and the best way to blend in, is not to do something wrong.

In middle school, I did all my work, and got good grades (except 6th grade math).  I didn't procrastinate much, and did my best to be a wall flower.  I didn't want critique or compliments, I just wanted to float along.  (I still don't do well with compliments).

In high school, when a lot of kids experiment with drugs, alcohol and sex, I didn't.  Part of the reason was because I was open about things with me mom, and I didn't want to tell her I did any of that stuff.  Another reason was that I was just scared.  I didn't want to do something illegal, I worried about getting caught.  I didn't want to not be in charge of my faculties, and do something I'd regret.

As a result, I've never been drunk, I've never been high, and I've only slept with one person.  I kind of regret the first two.  Youth is a time to try things out (maybe not high school, but college).  And I didn't.  I am happy that Aaron is the only one I've been with.

But maybe at 33, I could have a funny drunk story, or a regrettable tattoo, or know what weed is like.  Oh well, I guess there is still time for those things.  But now I don't have the excuse of being young... and I'm less anxious, well, mostly.

20. The one time I was a bad kid.

This took place when I was about 5.  Our grocery store used to have bulk wrapped candy in bins.  And you could buy a single piece for 5 cents.  I think I was originally given some nickels.  But at some point, I wasn't.  And then I started stealing it.  I would put a piece or two in the side of my sock, and then eat it later at home.  One time, my mom heard the crinkling in my sock.  "What is that noise?"  "Nothing."  She caught me, made me put it back and said if I steal things I'd go to jail.  The worst part was that this was right after Halloween, and as a punishment she took the rest of my candy away.  

It was a lesson that stayed with me.  I never stole anything again.

19. Jobs

Here are the jobs I've had:

• Baby sitter.  That was my first job, mostly for my sister's friends, and some for families at the synagogue.  It wasn't my favourite job, but it was fine when I wasn't old enough to get a real job.
• Joann Fabrics.  Shortly after I turned 16 I got a job at Joann's.  I cut fabric, rung people up, and put stuff away.  It wasn't a great job.  I think it paid $6.25 an hour.  It was either boring or busy.  It was kind of odd, since I knew nothing about sewing when I started there, but I learned a bit.
• Macy*s.  My boyfriend (or maybe he was my ex by then, I can't remember) helped my get that job, because he worked there.  I started out in seasonal apparel (swimwear and coats).  Some people don't wear underwear when trying on swimsuits, which is really gross.  It was an ok job.  Customers can be really rude.  After I was there a while I was able to transfer to stock in domestics.  I really liked that job.  I set my own hours, and I didn't have to deal with customers.  I just made sure the floor was neat and everything was stocked.
• Engineering company.  A guy from church was looking for a part time administrative aide. It was a good job, I had a lot of free time, and it paid well.  And I could organize it around school. But it was almost an hour each way (despite only being 10 miles from the house).  I worked there for 6 years.
• United Shredding.  After Aaron and I married, I needed a full time job.  I found a front desk job at the shredding company.  It was fairly boring, but it was really close to home (less than 3 miles).  I only worked there 6 months, because we moved to Utah.
• MegaGPS.  This was the online company I worked for in Utah.  I processed orders, talked to costumers on the phone, and helped with shipping.  It was a pretty good job, far from home, again, but it only took about 30 minutes to get there.
• OPTM PT.  I got a full time front desk job at the PT company in 2009 when we came back from Utah.  I learned to help with charts, and insurance benefits.  After I'd been there 3 years, I got to be the billing departments (as we moved from out-sourcing to in-house).  I really liked doing the billing, and it paid well.  I worked there until I was laid off in February.  While I had been there a long time, I had the fewest hours.  I knew it was coming, but it was still a little sad.
• Amazon.  I just started with Amazon about a month ago.  It's the first time I've worked an overnight shift.  I help receive packages (everything is already boxed when it arrives to us), and then sort them into areas.  It pays well for unskilled labour, and most of the people are nice.  I wear sweats to most shifts, and listen to my iPod whilst I work.

18. A quick memory

This memory has been rolling around in my head for a while.  But I couldn't remember if it had actually happened, until I confirmed with Jessica today.

(I think this was either before Rebecca was born, or mom stayed home with her.)

Our house, growing up, was on a hill.  So we had a good view of the city.  One night, we saw a beam of light from a klieg light.  I don't know whose idea it was, but we decided to follow it, and see what was there.  Jessica, dad and I got in the car, and drove off, in search of the klieg light.  It was the grand opening of an electronics store (which no longer exists).

While the end result was anti-climactic, it is a memory that has stuck with me (and is not fictional).

17. Likes and dislikes

Likes

• naps
• sloths
• almost all sweets
• Ikea
• Target
• the smell of new babies
• Diet Coke
• swimming
• reading
• the ocean
• pickles
• Tofurkey (it's actually good!)
• Ambien and Adderall (used as prescribed).
• (Parenthetical statements)
• voting
• going on walks
• eating
• clean linens
• magnolia trees

Dislikes

• smoking
• almost all squash
• crohns
• spiders
• philosophy
• taking charge
• mess
• cleaning out the fridge
• dental visits
• mink
• waking up tired

I may add more to this later in the day.  But it's 3am, and I need sleep

16. All the animals

Growing up, we always had animals.  Actually, my parents had animals for most of their marriage before kids.  And my mom grew up on a farm, so there were always animals.

My dad, I would say, is an animal person; especially cats.  I don't think he had pets growing up, but I could be wrong.  But he loves pets.  He said if he didn't always out live them, he'd have a cat.  It's too hard (emotionally), he said.  My mom is not really an animal person.  She likes animals, but wouldn't seek out any of her own (especially now that she's retired and likes to travel).

When I was little (and before I was born) my dad (the family) had a cat called drummer.  He was a smooth black cat.  He wasn't overly friendly, but not mean either.  Just a normal cat.  After he died (I think I was 7, maybe), Jessica and I each got a kitten.  Two grey tiger cats.  I named mine Tiger (how unoriginal).  Jessica called hers Smokey.  Smokey was especially anti-social, though, to be fair, we were very enthusiastic pet owners.  They were meant to be inside cats, but gradually became indoor/outdoor.  And back then, the flea medicines weren't great.  They became outdoor cats, and then semi-feral cats.  I think they lived to be 17ish.  We had a cat that adopted us, we called him BooBoo.  He was a super skinny, mangy, black and white tuxedo cat.  He had been de-clawed, which I assume means he was abandoned, since de-claws cats can't do well outside.  We tried to bring him in, as he was a very lovey cat.  But he was either incontinent, or too dumb to use a little box, and peed in the heat vents.  So then he only came in if he was under direct surveillance.  He disappeared (died) a few years later.

We also had hamsters, and a few birds in those years.  

In college, my friend Anna adopted a cat named Lilac (We renamed her Phantom, aka Phantos Mantos, because she was super sneaky).  She was going away on a trip, and brought the cat to my house.  Then the cat never left.  I think my friend's mom didn't like the cat.  This isn't surprising, as she was a mean cat.  She loved to claw at people and news papers.  When Aaron and I moved out, we left her with my dad.  But as he became increasingly ill, the cat wasn't doing well either.  And he couldn't take care of her well.  She died one day before we came home for Christmas break.  (We couldn't take her to Utah, no apartments there allow pets.  Seriously, it's impossible to find a place that takes pets).  We both still feel bad about that.

When we were in Utah we got two rats, Winston and Dexter.  They were good guys.  It's funny, but they had distinct, and unique personalities.  Winston died on the fourth of July, after being sick.  (We took them to the vet for various issues, as one would with any animal).  We got a dumbo rat called Floyd shortly there after, and moved back to California.  After a year or so, Dex died.  So we got Stanley (because rats are social).  One night while we were asleep, Stanley attacked Floyd so badly, we thought Floyd died.  Aaron rushed him to an exotics vet, where we paid $500 to put a rat back together.  (Stupid decisions made highly emotional moments).  Stanley had essentially castrated Floyd.  Then they were separated, and we got no more rats.  

This is getting too long, but I think I've written about the current round of pets more recently.

Various other things

• We switched Bertie's room and the guest room around.  (Our house is weird, you have to walk through bedroom 2 (previously Bertie's room) to get to the master.)  Now that they are switched, we no longer have to sneak through his room at night, or around the back of the house. This is also good now that I work nights, because the dogs want the option of waiting in the front room, or sleeping in bedroom.
  It took a couple nights for Bertram to adjust, as we knew it would.  But he's pretty excited about his new room, and wants to show everyone.
  The set up is also better for both rooms in terms of flow.
  His room is down, the guest room is close, which is good because mom is coming next week!
• I'm still getting used to the night shift 4 days a week.  I think I need to take melatonin on the days I don't work, so I can sleep at a normal hour. 
• Fiona had a seizure last Sunday.  I stupidly took her to the vet.  They kept her over night, and ran some tests, but nothing was wrong, and it cost $500.  It was a long seizure.  And I was worried she'd have a stroke attached to it, like Diamond Jim did.  But all is well, so I just need to remember not to take her in next time.
• I am ready to be done with my blue hair.  But my next hair appointment is 2+ weeks away, so I'll have to keep it a bit longer.
• We were supposed to have major rain Friday-Sunday.  Maybe some other part of the bay area got some, but it is dry and windy here.  That's a bummer, we need it.

15. Embarrassing moments

I am one of those people who replay things in their heads; what I could/should have said/done, and why did you say/do that?!  So here are a few embarrassing moments that have stayed with me.

If first grade I called the teacher mommy.  (Her name was Mrs Moore, so at least it started the same).

When I was 13, I had a Bat Mitzvah.  Mine was in the afternoon, and my friend had his in the morning.  He asked me to read something at his, somewhat last minute.  I agreed, not thinking much about it.  Then I was up on the stage, in front of everyone, I screwed it all up.  I jumbled the words, mixed up or skipped entire sentences.  I barely held it together.  Then when I sat back down, I just started crying, and I cried through the rest of the service.  I some how pulled it together by the afternoon, and did fine at mine.

Sometime in my youth, I asked my aunt (who is adopted) if she ever met her real mom.  Of course, Nanny is her real mom, what I should have said was biological mom.

At age 5 or 6 I needed a throat culture.  Mom had taken me to the doctor, I assume I probably had strep.  But I absolutely refused to let them take the culture.  Mom was furious.  She made dad take me back later that day, and then I let them do it.  (My dad never disciplined us, mom did that.  But for some reason, we were all scare of dad).

Around age  22, I needed to go to the dentist.  I had been freaking out about it all day.  (I am a huge baby about going to the dentist). I think it was the first time I saw Dr Shimamoto.  And, practically before he ever looked in my mouth, I started crying.  An adult, crying in a dentist's chair, for no real reason, other than being scared.

When Aaron and I were in the early days of dating, I was over at his house.  We were in the living room chatting with his dad, and I sneakily (or so I thought) farted.  But it was really stinky.  When we left the room, Aaron said "sorry about my dad farting." I told him, nope that was me.

Along the same lines, probably around the time Bertie was 2, we were at Target.  I burped and said excuse me.  Bertie loudly announced "Mommy toot!"

I'm sure there are so many more experiences I could add, but I'm feeling thoroughly mortified having written these.

14. Dad

I've been putting this one off a bit, because it's complicated.

Growing up we did not have the best relationship.  He was a good provider, and was home every night, but never went out of his way to do much extra for us kids (though there were exceptions).  He never hit us, or anything like that, but he usually wasn't particularly nice.  Most homework sessions, and all Hebrew lessons ended with me in tears.  He never said it, but I really felt stupid.  There were no hugs, or I love you's.

But there was good stuff too.  He told great stories.  Anecdotes from his youth, and time in the Peace Corps.  He told us about history, and science.  He read to us every night from chapter books.  We read all of the Little House series, Black Beauty, Alice in Wonderland, Boxcar Children, and others I'm forgetting. He would always let us watch whatever he was watching (though that may have been a negative at times).  For a while, maybe in middle school, we went ice skating at this outdoor rink in Palo Alto, every Sunday night.  (And whenever the elementary school would have a roller rink night, he would go, he really liked that kind of think).  And he was funny, and (still is) one of the smartest people I know.

In my teens things were not good between us.  I can't remember any particular thing, but it just wasn't good.  I was convinced that at the first opportunity, I'd leave and never look back.

But that didn't happen.  I stayed there when my mom and sisters left.  And I stayed all of college.  And Aaron and I stayed there when we were first married.  Dad didn't charge us rent.

The turning point was when Aaron and I moved to Utah.  Dad's health took a bad turn, he broke his arm, and had bi-lateral hip replacements and the Crohns diagnosis.  When things got worse for him, they got better for us.  Odd as that may sound.  He became very generous and sent checks for birthdays.  And if we were in a jam, he send money no questions asked (except how much do you need?).

Aaron and I moved in with him again for 6 months or so after returning to California.  There were still health issues, and we were able to help with that. And things there better.

But I was still resentful.  And every Father's Day at church was awful.  I had to hear about all these great relationships, and there I was with none of that.  Then, one day, I had an epiphany.  He did the best he could.  And that changed everything.

His childhood was not great.  His mother was very often mean, or downright cruel.  There was corporal punishment in his house, despite not doing anything that would warrant it.  He did well in school, didn't cause trouble, and followed the rules.  Nothing was ever good enough for his mother.  And all of that sank in.  He didn't beat us, he didn't berate us.  He helped with our homework the only way he knew how.  He read to us daily, and taught us a lot.

And at this point, I can say I love my dad a lot.  He has done more for me than either he or I will ever know.  His health issues still linger, which is scary.  (And so odd considering he led a really healthy life.  He was always active, never over weight, didn't smoke, drink, or eat badly, and yet everything still went bad.)

13. Insomnia

Sleep issues seem to run in the family.

I have had insomnia off and on since 4th or 5th grade.  I can remember watching an episode of The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson with my dad, and he stopped hosting when I was 9.  Some of my insomnia came with my OCD tendencies: is the door locked? did I really lock it? did I actually check that other door? better check again.  is the toaster plugged in? etc.  But aside from that I couldn't make my mind calm down.  And then I would stress out because I was still awake.

In middle school it wasn't as bad, because class didn't start until 9:30 (not sure who thought of that schedule, but they're a genius).  I'd stay up late, listening to Loveline, or watching Jay Leno, and go to sleep at 12 or 12:30, and have no issues getting up.  That changed in high school because we started at 7:20.  So I took OTC medicine to help sometimes.  I trying Unisom, which was the worst.  Benedryl and Nyquil were what I used most often.  Not everyday, but probably at least once a week.  I had done all the regular tips, no caffeine, no naps, a relaxing routine, etc, but nothing ever helped.

In late high school or college, I got a prescription for Lunestra.  That was a wonderful, miracle drug.  With the exception that it made your mouth taste awful the next day (the whole next day).  After that I moved on to Ambien, which I like better than Lunesta.  I feel like the Lunesta works quicker (and better) but there is no after taste with Ambien.  Currently I'm out of sleep meds, and use melatonin on occasion. But now that I'm working the swing shift 4 nights a week, my rhythms are all off (hence the second 1am blog post this week).  I think I may ask my shrink for a new Ambien Rx, to help on my off days.  But I'll see what he says.

My mom (as previously mentioned) worked nights for 20+ years, so she was always tired.  She really could nap anytime, though didn't have the opportunity very often.

My dad has had insomnia off and on most of his life.  He tried prescription sleep meds, but had issues with them (sleepwalking).  Now that he's getting older, he doesn't sleep much at night, but naps most days.

Rebecca has intermittent insomnia too.  And Jessica, for a while anyway, was practically nocturnal.  (She was very active in some online groups that kept late hours (or had many members overseas)).  Now that she has a more regulated schedule she is less-nocturnal, but still leans that way.

Aaron, on the other hand, had never had sleeping issues.  We'll go to bed, he'll say he's not tired, and be asleep in 5 minutes.  I am beyond jealous, and hope that Bertie takes after him in that aspect.

12. Grandma Bertha

Bertha was my paternal grandma.  She died in 2000.  (Typing that makes me realize that 2000 was actually a long time ago).  She was always called Grandma Bertha even though we had no one else called "grandma."  I found this odd when I got old enough to think about it.

Her husband, my grandpa died when I was three, so I don't remember him.

One week of our month-long Virginia trip was carved out for visiting grandma Bertha.  We would drive the 9-10 hours up the East coast in our rented car, that always smooshed us three kids into the not-large-enough back seat.  There would inevitably be crying, yelling and complaining.

We would stay at grandma's house, which was the house my dad grew up in: the top floor of a four unit apartment building.  It was a small house, with nothing updated.  Two bedrooms, one bathroom (that only had a tub, no shower). There was an attic upstairs, which my dad made his bedroom at some point in his youth.  There was also a half bath up there.  It had a hot tap, and a cold tap, which means you either burn or freeze your hands.  There was one tv, and it was one of those old ones that are furniture, and when you shut it off the picture faded to a tiny dot, which would disappear after a bit. (I'm sure that effect has a name, but I don't know it).  The couch was covered in plastic, there was no A/C which meant the house was usually stiflingly hot.
When we were small (or maybe every time we were there, I can't remember), Jessica, Rebecca and I would all sleep on the sofa bed hidden in the plastic-covered couch.  I think my mom slept in the second bedroom (it had a twin bed with a mattress that was probably 40 years old), and my dad slept in the attic, though, I don't know how, the attic was so hot.
In the living room there was a curio cabinet with all sorts of little knick-knacks.  Jessica and I always would get them out and look at them.  (Even now, I can almost remember the smell of the inside of the cabinet).  There was also a rotary phone, which I thought was pretty cool. The second bedroom was aunt Rosalie's childhood room.  A lot of her teenage things were still there.  Love beads, and other jewelry, and this musky cologne that I always loved smelling.
And despite being hot, the attic was the best place in the house, at least in my young mind.  It was kind of a doorway to the past.  My dad's childhood preserved in one space.  There was a nook with his bed, in it old posters about space.  The other nook had mirrors on the two opposite sides (and windows on the other) so you could look at your reflection into infinity.  All of my dad's old stuff was up there: erector set, and really old mister potato head, various chemistry experiment-y things (including a small dish of mercury), his information from returning home from Peace Corp (complete with awesome picture), and a big bag of wheat pennies, among other things.

I go into so much detail about the house, because that is the extent of most of my memories of her.  When we would come to visit she didn't really acknowledge us.  She wasn't at all huggy kissy, or affectionate in anyway.  She was mostly housebound (then later completely housebound).  Into the later years of our visits I think she had dementia.

There were always things I looked forward when we went there.  There was a mini-mart at the end of the block, so we'd walk there for snacks.  We would visit the museum ever year, it was natural history, and art. We would go to the lake, which one of two places I've ever seen a seesaw in real life (the other was also there in Pittsfield somewhere, but I can't remember where.  Maybe a park).  We'd watch prime time tv as a family (which we rarely did at home (because we had other tvs)).

I remember a lot of the fun things, but mostly it was not fun.  One year the house had a lot of fleas from grandma feeding the neighbour cats.  One year Rebecca (or maybe all of us) had lice.  It was always hot, and there wasn't a lot to do.

I feel bad that I didn't try to get to know my grandma better.  Ask her questions about the past and her life.  But I think I was 10 (maybe a little older) when we stopped going to visit.  So it wasn't anything that I really thought about then.

I guess #12 was really more about Massachusetts than my grandma, but in my head the two are intertwined.

Baby Rebecca, aunt Rosalie, Grandma Bertha.

11. Rebecca

This will be a gushy post. Just a heads up.

When my mom told me she was pregnant, both Jessica and I were hoping for a little brother. So we were disappointed from the start.

Then there was a baby shower and I was hugely jealous. (Note to baby shower attendees, if there are older siblings, get them a little something too, so they don't feel left out).

I was 6 when she was born. I don't remember first meeting her. But shortly there after was when I first remember having anxiety. I was worried about SIDS. I'd wake up and sneak in to make sure she was still breathing. I'd have dreams that something terrible happened to her (occasionally, I still do).

When she got a little older she got more fun. I could play dress up with her. I don't have a lot of specific memories of when she was little little.

When she was about 6, I convinced (or forced, as she remembers it) her to get a short haircut. It looked adorable. We were out to eat at Red Lobster, and the waiter thought she was a boy. He was mortified to have made the mistake (Rebecca wasn't happy either).  He brought her a foil swan filled with candy, and something else, I think. But after that, between his comment, and thr influence of The Simpsons, I started calling her Boy.  That nickname has stuck.

She became my ally. We would both pick on Jessica, sometimes inadvertently.  We would be endlessly silly together. But she was also my nemesis. previously mentioned, being the middle kid was hard.

I taught her to ride a bike, which was a trial for us both. But she can ride, so I suppose it was successful.

I got my licence while she was still in middle school, which meant I got/had to drive her around. We had some fun with that too. We'd do Whole Foods after Sunday School sometimes. I resented having to pick her up from school, when I was made to walk home (when I was her age).

I can remember tearfully embracing when she left for Virginia with my mom, and Jessica.

And sometime after that, she became my best friend. When she was younger she came to me for the "embarrassing" questions. We texted or spoke most days, still do.

She calls me her life partner, which is hilarious, but accurate. We are incredibly close for being 3000 miles apart.

I can't express how happy I am that my parents had an oops, and that she wasn't a boy. It's hard to imagine what my life would be like without her in it.

10. Diet Coke

We have a multi-generational love of Diet Coke.

I can remember when we would get Happy Meals (when I was 5 or 6).  And for some reason, the regular Coke would burn my nose when I burped.  I still have no idea why, but that's how I remember it.  I would sip my mom's Diet Coke, and notice that the nose-burning didn't happen.  From then on I always ordered diet.

My mom always ordered Diet Coke.  Or diet whatever.  There have been rare occasions she'll have a regular drink, but 99.8% of the time it's diet.

My younger sister also loves Diet Coke.  We started calling it Doke, at some point.

It's fairly accurate to say I'm addicted.  (Though, I can and have stopped for a month+ at a time).  But currently, since I'm still getting used to the night shift, I am powered by Diet Coke.  It's funny/sad that when we go to Maccas, Bertie knows what I'm getting.  He'll say something like "I get apples, you get Diet Coke."

9. Popcorn

Aaron's family has a tradition on Sundays of gathering at his grandma's house for popcorn. And games, and occasionally treats. It's one of my favourite things about being part of my in laws.

8. Hairy Situation

When I was in 4th or 5th grade kids started making fun on my dark arm and leg hair.  I'd been begging my mom to let me start shaving, and she said I wasn't old enough.  Jessica was already shaving.  So I took her razor, and gave my legs a dry shave, secretly.  My mom didn't inspect my legs, so I'm not sure when she figured it out.  People always cringe about a dry shave, but I don't remember it being problematic.

I always hated how hairy my arms were.  I shaved them off and on, but no one else I knew did that, so at some point I stopped.  Then in high school I found out my friend's mom shaved her arms.  Taking that to mean it was not weird, I've been doing it ever since.

7. Jessica

Jessica is my older sister.  If you read my blog regularly, you'll likely have seen my younger sister mentioned a lot.  But Jessica scarcely makes it in.  She reads the blog and once asked if it was because I am embarrassed of her.  I told her no, she and I just don't do a lot together.

I can remember when we were little we had so much fun together!  We played with dinosaurs, blocks, Legos and chess.  (Neither of us are good at chess, but we both knew what all the pieces did, so we played without strategy).  She was super smart, and taught herself to read around age 3.  Once she could read, you'd think she'd read kids books.  Nope, she read the encyclopedia, and the dictionary and any book she could find about animals.  So when we would pretend to be animals, we were often amoeba or paramecium.

 When we were in elementary school she was in special ed.  I never really thought about why.  It didn't occur to me for a long time that she was different.  (And while it did occur to my parents, Jessica was 10 (I think) once she was finally diagnosed with Asperger's).  Though I can remember being on the playground at recess, and kids making fun of her.  Or saying there was a bee on her head so she would fling her hands around and run off screaming.  I am ashamed to say that I didn't speak up, step in, or defend her when the asshole bully kids called her retarded.  That is one of those things that has stuck with me; a time (many times, actually) I had the opportunity to do the right thing, and I did nothing.

Fortunately, my parents found a private school for her starting in 6th grade.  The school was originally in Palo Alto (which was 15 miles from my mom's hospital, or 24 miles from our house).  This was a long commute, especially after my mom had either worked 8-12 hours.  (I'm not sure why my parents decided my mom would always drive her).  After a few years the school moved to Santa Clara, which was pretty close to the hospital and not super far from the house.  Anyway, I thought the school was awesome.  But I've recently found out there were still asshole bully kids there (which seems odd, they're all in the same boat, disability-wise).

I think somewhere in late elementary school we started to be less close.  And once puberty hit her it hit her hard.  It was difficult for her, and my parents.  And I felt like the left out middle kid.  Jessica got attention because of her issues, Rebecca got attention because she was the baby.  I got attention by picking on either or both of them.  And I was jealous that I could go to private school too, not knowing how much private school actually costs.  And my folks were always good with their money, we weren't spoiled, but we didn't want for much either. (Reading all this, it's no wonder my parents got divorced).

My dad always said I had the magical ability to cheer her up when she was sad.  I honestly don't remember doing that, but it seems like something I'd do.

Jessica lives with my mom in Virginia.  (Well, she lives next door.  My mom moved into Glenn's house, so Jessica pretty much has mom's house to her self).  She goes out with her aid/helper/??? a few times a week, and volunteers on an animal helpline.  I feel sad/frustrated that there isn't something more she can do.  Or that where they are doesn't have the services of San Jose.  I think there is a lot she is capable of doing (and enjoying), but there is no one to facilitate it.  My mom is tapped out, and her job coach doesn't do anything.  The other issue is transportation.  That part of Virginia is semi-rural, and has no public transpo.  And Jessica doesn't drive.

Anyway, I feel like I've rambled on a long time.  I wish we were closer, but Asperger's doesn't allow a lot of interpersonal skills,  So we reconnect twice a year (when she comes out here to visit dad, or when I go out there).  Jessica, start a blog, then I know what you're up to. 

6. Young Love

January 2001, 15.5 years ago, I met my husband.  (Actually I met him once, briefly, in 1999).  In a couple years, I'll have known him half of my life.

I was out with my former boyfriend.  (I had dated a few guys, but really only one seriously before Aaron.)  And was introduced to Aaron.  I thought he was so cute, and I actually thought he was Jewish, due to his nose. I had to pursue him.  All the guys I've ever liked, I had to pursue.  The guys who were into me from the start were lameos.

Anyway, I somehow won him over.  I was 17 and he was 19 when we started dating.  10 months later he left on his mission.  (Start miserable time, see yesterday).

I can remember sitting on the curb outside of my house and talking until 2 or 3 in the morning.  We drove out to Utah for LDS conference in the Spring.  We got a motel midway, and spent the night cuddling (we waited til marriage for the rest).  We saw a bunch of movies.  We had stupid fights, and not so stupid fights.  We went to some concerts.  All the typical stuff.  It was a magical period in my life.

Going to my Prom

Sometime before he left.
 (Bad quality, picture of a picture)

We he came back, we came back.

I was thinking about the start of our relationship.  How many people end up with their high school sweetheart?  How many marriages between 22 and 23 year olds last?  I think it's pretty neat that we've been married 11 years.

When discussing the early years of marriage, we both agreed we got married too young.  The first year was especially hard (which is typical) but probably made more rough because we were young.  But we never had any huge fights.  The longest we went without talking was a couple hours.  We fit together well.  And I'm convinced he's one of the only people who would put up with me, long term.  I feel like our relationship is pretty good now.  We are at a good point.  (Which makes me worried that the other shoe will drop).

5. The worst year.

2001 was the worst year.

It was the year my parents split.  My mom and sisters moved to Virginia.  I stayed in California with my dad.  This was after deciding to go to college locally (even though I got into some really good state schools).  I think everyone in my family was surprised that I didn't go with my mom.  Heck, I was surprised.  Up until (and for a while, beyond) that point, I didn't get along with my dad very well.

They left, and soon after I started college.  High school was really easy for me.  I got good grades without much effort, and I never had to study.  It turned out college was not similar.  I was not prepared for the amount of work I needed to do.  And I needed to study, which was something I never learned.

About a month after that, Aaron left on his mission.  (For those who don't know, when Mormons go on missions there is very little communication with home.  Two phone calls a year, and weekly letters.  For two years.)  So, everyone I loved (and who loved me back) left in the span of about 4 months.

It was the worst time in my life.

4. Nanny and Grandpa

Nanny and Grandpa (or sometimes Papa) are my mom's parents.

As I mentioned previously, we would go out to visit them every summer, and occasionally in the winter.  They came out to California a handful of times as well.  Because of the distance we were never as close as they were with the rest of my cousins (who all lived in a 20 mile radius).

(I think about this with Bertie and my mom.  She gets to see him quarterly, which is pretty good, especially for living 3000 miles away.  I have a dream that when she's old, she'll move back and live near me).

I think I'm just going to list miscellaneous memories.  (It's more difficult than I thought it would be to write about relationships in one blog post).

• We would watch Price is Right everyday.  And, for a while, there was a radio station that also had it on.  Which is odd, when I think about it.
• When we drove around we would often listen to a Kenny Rogers cassette.  
• Grandpa smoked all his life (and was likely a factor in his death).  I never liked the smell of cigarette smoke.  But every now and then, I'll get a whiff that must have been his brand.  Smell memories (is that a thing?) are really powerful.
• Nanny always made (and still does) the best tuna salad.  I'm not sure what she does, because I know how she makes it, and still, it never tastes quite right.
• They always had a decent size garden.  I would go out with Grandpa and help him pick corn, green beans, lima beans and tomatoes.  Then we would sit at their big wooden kitchen table and shell them (or pull the ends off the green beans).
• When my cousins came to visit the farm, Grandpa would drive us all around in the back on his pick up truck; out into the woods, to the red clay canyon, the pond, and the abandoned house in the woods.  
• When it was just me and my sisters, he would take us on the pond (I say pond, but it was more like a lake(I just looked it up, it's called Shirley Millpond.)) and we would get in the little boat and go fishing.
• Nanny is a great cook.  She doesn't cook as much anymore, since it's just her most of the time.  
• They had a timeshare in Myrtle Beach for a long time.  We went with them a handful of times and stayed there for a week.  It was wonderful.  Especially when you compare the ocean temperatures between here and there.
• We used to play 500 Rummy quite a bit, then Rumicube. Grandpa would play solitaire a lot too.  I wish I could remember the kind he played.  (Mom, do you know?)
• On the farm, there was a huge clothesline.  I was usually too short to help hang clothes, but I liked running through the sheet and towels drying on the line.

That's all I've got for now.  As usual, I'm sure I'm forgetting a lot.  But it's a start.

3. Random Memory

Once when I was in elementary school my dad came to pick me up from soccer practice.  We crossed the playground as we walked to the car.  My dad said try to do a pull-up.  I hopped up and grabbed the bar, but that was as high off the ground as I went.  My dad walked up and said I'll help you.  As he said that I let go, and landed on his foot, in my cleats.  (It should also be noted I was a fat kid).
He didn't say anything, and I thought he was furious.  As an adult, I realized he was speechless as to not swear.
I asked him about that last year, and he had no memory of it, whatsoever. It's funny the things that stick with you, but don't with someone else.

2. Young years

I was born 20 months after my older sister.  When I was little, you still put babies to sleep on their fronts (which I think caused my love for front sleeping for many years).

I was born in California, but my first memories are from Colorado, where we lived for a couple years in the mid-80s.  On our first day in the new Colorado house, I fell down the stairs.  Tall, wooden stairs.  That is my first memory.

I have a few other spotty memories of Colorado.  Playing in the big backyard, driving around in the old blue Corolla, eating granola in the kitchen.  The most vivid Colorado memory I have in getting stuck in the snow.

Jessica and I were eager to get out in the freshly fallen snow.  Mom dressed us in our snow suits and sent us into the backyard to play.  The snow was fairly deep for a 3 year old, up to my chest.  And after a bit, I was stuck.  I started crying and my mitten fell off.  Either Jessica went for help, or my mom sent my dad to fetch me.

I think went we were young, probably before Rebecca was born, were the times Jessica and I got on best.  She made up all sorts of imaginary games for us to play.

1. Mom

Today is my mom's birthday, so it seems appropriate to start with her.

My mom is awesome.  She is a hard worker, devoted mom, and just an all around giving and caring person.  I feel blessed, as an adult, to still have a wonderful relationship with her.

She spend most of my life working the overnight shift in the ER at O'Connor Hospital, as an RN.  My dad would drop off my sister and me on his way to work early in the morning.  Then she would drive us to school.

Every summer she would fly from California  to Virginia (without my dad) with all us kids in tow.  I still marvel at how she must have done that after traveling with just one toddler!  We would spend the next month on her parent's farm.  It is still one of my favourite places, and I often visit in my mind.  It was a magical place to spend the summer.

My mom was always really open to any question that us kids had.  It was easy to ask her anything we wanted to know, so we were fairly well informed.

After my parent's divorce, she and my sisters moved to Virginia.  And after having a less-than-happy marriage for a long time, she and her neighbour fell in love. It makes me happy when I think about that, because after all she did/put up with she deserves to be happy, and have a guy who really spoils her.

She has always been supportive, and at the same time, allowed me to make my own mistakes, offering advice, but in the end leaving the choice up to me.


I feel like there is more I want to say.  I think this is disjointed.  I was going to write an outline, but ran out of time.