Back Off, Airbag!

I’m thankful that I am still here to write a blog for your reading pleasure.  The airbags did their duty, probably a bit more intensely than required at 35 mph, yet I am trying to keep a sense of humor in the midst of it all.  Please excuse any humor that may seem off color in our circumstances.  Remember also I am currently using narcotics.

My cute husband and I were enjoying a moment of peace and tranquility on the back patio yesterday morning, holding hands and loving the balmy Phoenix weather in March.  He squeezed my hand and conveyed a heartfelt, “I’m so glad the accident was not that bad.  I could have been going to two funerals this week!”  BAH!  I told him that his sentiments were kind but I knew he was WAY too cheap to pay for two funerals…. there would have been just one.

This morning I visited the spinal surgeon.  He had good news and bad news for me… but the good news outweighed the bad by 98%.  I am not free to discuss my injuries to the world at large, but spinal surgery was negated.  Thank God!  Then he proceeded to tell me that my spinal condition is appropriately degenerated FOR MY AGE.  What the heck was that supposed to mean?  I’m in my 40s!!  If he were a car salesman, this was the equivalent of kicking the tires and saying, “She’s got a few more miles in her despite the apparent neglect.” Good grief!

It has been 11 days since the accident and today was the first day I had a surge of energy and applied makeup!  Small steps.  It was my fourth or fifth visit to the chiropractor since the accident.  As I graced the waiting room the receptionist hollers, “OH MY GOSH!  You look so much better today!”  Yeah, thanks.  It’s just makeup.  I feel the same… still sore, achy and drugged.  My Dad always said, “If the barn needs painting, paint it!”  I gathered from her exuberance that my natural beauty was more in my mind than in reality.

I arrived home exhausted from more outings than my typical one-per-day.  While sitting at the table eating another wonderfully fabulous dinner that was delivered to us by our rockin’ homeschool peeps, my 9-year-old says to me, “I like your hair.”  Okay, seriously?  It is a day #2 hairdo with the back completely oily from a massage, and one flat side from my nap.  She kept going with her sincere flattery, “It makes you look like a teenager, Mom.  It’s pretty the way it’s not all puffy like usual.”  Wow.  What do you say to that?

By day of recovery #5 I finally felt like reading.  I read four whole pages of the 1850′s historical fiction of which I was in the midst…. during days 6, 7 and 8.  Yes, only four pages.  Then day #9 my reading juices were regenerated and I finished the book.  It was the last 1850′s historical novel I had in my possession and I was still on the couch for the better part of the day.  CRISIS!  I perused my bookshelves and discovered several stories that we were supposed to read for American History last year.  Yesterday and today I read Farewell to Manzanar a biography/history lesson about an internment camp during WW2 for 10,000 Japanese Americans on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevadas in California.  Every summer when we drive to Lake Tahoe, we pass right by the historical marker sign that reads   <—– MANZANAR.  Being the history loving nerd that I am, the desire to stop has surfaced every single time we pass the sign, but we have yet to stop.  Now that I’ve read the story…. we are stopping, baby.  10,000 American citizens who were considered dangerous simply by race… put in a “camp” like prisoners for THREE YEARS!  Unbelievable.  I’ve added this story here because I was hoping to see barracks, a mess haul, latrines, a pear orchard, etc.  The end of the book describes Manzanar today as a dusty, deserted piece of land with a few cement slabs if you know where to look for them.  Maybe I don’t need to stop as badly as I thought I had for the last 12 years.  We’ll see this summer.

Post Wreckage Wisdom

Before this past Saturday, the previous car accident I participated in was in 1999 in Anaheim, California.  Thankfully I have been fender bender free for 14 joyous years. (However, in my current state of narcotic use, I could easily and most probably be missing large periods of my life in my memory banks.)  When one meanders through life without hitting other vehicles, you tend to forget many important facts regarding collisions.  This morning, at 4:06 a.m., I am here to inform all those who need informing on said subject.

1.  Accidents happen when you least expect it and when it is not convenient in your life.  In my case, I was casually  heading to Bed Bath and Beyond to purchase a much needed shower curtain liner for the main bath due to visitors who were scheduled to arrive at my home in exactly four hours.  My daughter and two friends were descending upon our house for Spring Break from college in Tulsa, Oklahoma, a mere 14 hour drive to Phoenix, Arizona.  Two days after their arrival, three Canadian relatives were also visiting for a week.  Hence, the new shower curtain liner was MANDATORY.

2.  Teenage drivers are a danger on the road.  Out of a neighborhood shopping center driveway (right next to Charming Charlie’s purse/accessory mother ship store) a small white vehicle came flying directly into my lane from the right without any warning time, hindering me from doing all those things you know you should do when you figure out you’re are going to hit another car, i.e. brake, scream “Sweet mother of God!”, brace yourself so as to increase muscle injuries, curse the driver’s day of birth, yell at your kids “Hang on, Mommy’s going to hit someone!” or any other such nonsense. I glanced at the car and slammed into it.  That is all.  I never saw the driver’s face as she was looking to her right the entire time she was entering the four lane road, planning on crossing two lanes of traffic.  The kind police man asked me how long I had between my visual awareness of the other car and impact.  “One second.”  I have since wondered about her actions.  Did she just find the queen mother purse to match her favorite hot pink and cheetah print shoes, and couldn’t wait to get home and unite the two, creating the perfect ensemble?  Did she just eat at the Mellow Mushroom and was in a pasta induced coma with garlic permeating from her pores?  We will never know, dear reader.

3.  When the kind police man finished my inquisition and then glanced in the back seat of the van to witness a tear-stained little Latina child, he should have used his kind policeman voice and asked a politically correct question like, “Who is this little sweetheart?” or “I see we have a princess in the back seat.” or “Honey, are you ok?”  But NO.  He got the wrath of the blubbering adoptive mother when he blurted out, “Who is THAT?” like I picked up an illegal alien down by the border and was transporting her color-coordinated, well manicured dimpled self like a criminal. I will admit I answered a bit tersely, “SHE’S MY DAUGHTER!!!!”  My tone set him in his place and his kind police man voice surfaced as he praised her for being in her booster seat and wearing her seatbelt.  I am a protective mama first, and an injured car passenger second. Don’t ever forget that!

4.  Auto injuries are curious beasts.  Due to the impact of the airbag underneath the steering column of our van, my shins took a real beating.  I did not know there was an airbag under there, nor was I aware that it was hinged from the bottom and the molded plastic cover was capable of shaving your legs so thoroughly upon explosion, you might never need to shave them ever again due to the absence of several layers of skin and hair follicles.  Thank God I was wearing jeans.  As was predicted by my ER doctor friend, other injuries will surface when the most intense injuries subside.  After four days of lying on the couch with my legs elevated and iced every hour around the clock, I was able to stand without tears accumulating in my eyes.  Then I realized my right shoulder was not working as well as it had been performing before the white car jumped in my path.  Yesterday x-rays were had and after two days of icing my shoulder every hour around the clock, we will hopefully have some answers tomorrow as to my gimpy limb.  When that is concluded, I do not know what will make me cry next…. the seatbelt bruise line across my entire torso?  Or some other area still in shock waiting to surface.  I will surely keep you posted, even though I am aware of “women’s tea rules of courtesy” of not speaking of sickness or operations.  This ain’t a tea…. it is my blog, and where else can I complain with my sense of humor intact for the enjoyment of others?

5.  God takes care of His children.  When God found our new-to-us van on November 30, 2012, He was testing my thankfulness at receiving such a good and perfect gift from Him, despite it being red.  Red is my least favorite color.  But I WAS thankful for the van… the low miles, the reasonable price, the stow-n-go compartments to haul more junk, the awesome air-conditioning, the radio controls on the back of the steering wheel, etc.  And I was content knowing that I couldn’t see that it was red while I was riding in the van. I imagined that it was a purty royal blue color.  So I am pretty sure I passed the red van test and now get another new-to-us van that is not red.  I will keep you posted.

Currently my pain meds have once again done their duty and I am ready to drift back to a psycho-dream filled sleep.  Good night for now.

Here we are …

Here we are on Easter Sunday … three generations of shining faces.  That’s my mom and my two daughters with me, in case you are new to MSJ.  We are an international crew.  Grandma and Larisa born in Canada. I was born in the USA and Nora in Colombia.  And we’re okay with all that.  Free trade and all that. “All that” really does include a lot of passports/fees/paperwork/fingerprinting…. and it’s all good.

Family dinners are a joy to behold.  Lots of laughter.  Lots of thankful hearts.  Not only for the resurrection of our Lord, but for the family with whom He has surrounded us. 

Favorite quotes from this year’s Easter dinner:

Seven-year-old nephew, when asked what he wanted to drink, “I’ll have rootbeer.  But if there’s no root, I’ll just take the beer.” (We are not a drinking family, so it was quite amusing!)

Eight-year-old daughter, after her father said, “There are E G G S around the R O O M.  We will H U N T after C H U R C H.”  “Hey, I think you guys spelling so I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

My pound-dropping husband, “This is the leanest and greenest Easter dinner I’ve ever eaten!”

He is risen indeed!

Keep Your Small Children Off the Streets!

It’s that time of my life again…. I’m getting old fast.  My little blond haired son who stuttered and yelled every word while he ran instead of walking anywhere…. just got his driver’s permit.  He was three-years-old about six months ago.  How does this keep happening to me?  In the past few years, every time he would comment on my driving (like suggesting that I could have made it through the light I stopped at) I would tell him to add two more months past his 16th birthday for a possible driving date.  Funny how he stopped commenting about six or eight months ago…. hoping I would forget all the months that were added. I have not.  What do you think I am?  Old?

Before my 15 1/2-year-old got his permit, I mentioned to my husband that I’m not real comfortable riding with my eldest son behind the wheel.  The last time he drove the van was in 1999 and HE WAS THREE!  He hit a fire hydrant and the van got a hole bashed in the rear bumper. Yes, he went in reverse AND drive!  It’s all still so clear in my motherly-horror-of-horrors-memory.  Back to my comment to my husband.  He responded as a more-than-confident father, “He’s a great driver. He’s a guy. He’ll do fine.  He’s my son.”  I rolled my proverbial eyeballs. Our 18-year-old daughter did an involuntary sputter/choke/laugh.  She then questioned, “What does Dad know that the insurance companies don’t know?”  GREAT question.

Thankfully, my eldest son actually IS a confident and safe driver so far.  We have not ventured onto the highway yet, but his success in parking lots and side streets is quite good.  I’m actually feeling more confident now than when my very nervous and cautious daughter started this process three years ago. 

Two student drivers down.  Two to go.  God help us!

Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful!

Really!  In Phoenix… in December… it snowed only 25 miles from our house!  We had rain … but we are not used to harsh conditions where we need closed-toed shoes… and a jacket!  I can imagine the sympathy in your heart for us!  haha.

December brought out Christmas decorations with a vengeance… lights, wreaths, trees, snowmen, etc.  First year EVER… I got the fake tree up with all the silver, blue and white ornaments… on December 1st!  A week later, we are still waiting to go buy a tree for all the non-blue ornaments.  A few years back, I came to the realization that red is not my favorite color.  In fact in the ROYGBIV list… I’m basically loving the rainbow in reverse order.  I’m a violet, indigo and blue gal from the boots up.  SO…. I went blue Christmas shopping and the blue tree was born.  I love it more each year… as the ornaments accumulate.  There are a few homemade preschool ornaments that made the cut… we have a popsicle stick Star of David with blue glitter…. and a dough star painted royal blue.  Yes, they are on the back, but they did make the cut for MY tree.

I love these stained glass snow flakes.  Rick and I bought these in Mexico two years ago at Christmas time.  Love them!

This stained glass trio was purchased last Christmas in Bogota, Colombia.  Yes, it’s supposed to by Mary, Joseph and the Babe Jesus, but I also like to think of it as Rick, me and our little colombian princess who joined us last Christmas!

Nora has loved the thought of Christmas since her first days in the USA.  She arrived to her forever home on December 22nd and it was one big blur of Christmas bliss her first week home!  Her eyes sparkled when she saw Grandma’s house all decorated in every corner!  A village with ice skaters and lights in the windows… a sleigh full of teddy bears… brass reindeer with ribbons… embroidered Santa pillows…. snowmen that play the piano and sing…. little Christmas mice climbing candles… matching wreaths on the front doors… and Santa himself waving the lantern from the top of the tree…Spendid!  All year long she has repeated that Christmas is her favorite!  We have stressed over and over that it is our favorite too, because Jesus was born then and THAT is the reason we celebrate.

We are doing the Jesse Advent Tree devotional with the kids.  We bought a little tree for the kitchen table that looks pretty lame right now with only five ornaments, but it looks a little better each day as we add to the story of Jesus!  We review every night and Nora basically gets it so far…. just a bit off on a few stories!  It is a bit alarming that of the first five stories, death is talked about three times!  (Adam and Eve’s disobedience, Noah’s neighbors and Abraham starting to sacrifice Isaac!)  I never thought of it before, but it’s all part of the story of our salvation!

So thankful for a relaxed Christmas month to share with our little girl!

Another Funny Crosby

Nora says the funniest things sometimes!  Here’s just a few of her latest crazy comments for you to enjoy.

We were going to a dinner put on by Austin’s youth leaders.  We walked in the door and one of the leaders puts his hand up for Nora to give him a high-five.  Before raising her hand she asked, “Are your hands clean?”

Today after church, Nora came out singing a song, “Where You go, I’ll go. Where You stay, I’ll stay. When You moon, I’ll moon. I will follow you.”  Moon should have been MOVE.  Made a whole new meaning for that song!

We were having tacos one night and Austin had made himself two tacos and set them on the table.  Then my husband asked him to go do something quickly before he started eating.  Before Austin left the kitchen he announced, “Make sure Keeve doesn’t eat my tacos!”  We all chuckled and said “ok”.  A few minutes later Keeve walked into the kitchen.  Nora pointed to Austin’s tacos and said, “Keeve, you want those tacos?”

We were having a lazy school day and Larisa, Nora and I were sitting around the kitchen table at 2:00.  Larisa looked at my haphazard appearance and asked if I brushed my hair.  I replied, “No, but I brushed my teeth, put on deodorant, shaved my legs and put on clean underwear.”  Looking all put together, brushed and shiny, Nora added, “I didn’t.”  We laughed and questioned, “Didn’t what?”  “Put on clean underwear.” 

And a few of her Spanglish sayings to wrap up this ditty:

“Bike Rike” – it’s when you ride your bike and rake the yard simultaneously.

“Peeksa” – checking in the oven if the pizza is ready.

Waddoh - the wet stuff that comes out of the waddoh tap.

What dat means? – this is not about a mean dad.

Candaler -  I think a person with dyslexia taught her to say calendar.

 

Treasure Junking

In Phoenix, the trash collection authorities are quite gracious by granting us permission FOUR TIMES A YEAR to leave large lumps of litter on the curb in front of our homes.  They come around with a huge truck and take it all away for us.  When we lived in our previous house with 32 full-grown trees, this plan was a godsend.  We would have had to make a trip to the dump four times a year without this blessed service.  Large Garbage Pickup even has a map with zones and dates so you never miss your turn to display your trash.

My kids figured out when this would all occur as interesting items started showing up along our street.  They asked if I would drive them around the neighborhood to see if there was other people’s junk that could be their treasure.  I’m not sure why I fell for this…. but I did, and hard.  We found a fish tank, a garden cart, a sand box, a Little Tikes Doll House, an ice cream freezer like in 7-11 (which we gave to the youth group), shutters and a bird-cage, etc. etc. etc..  I’m sure there are other quality items I’m forgetting too.  This practice got named “Treasure Junking“.  It’s sort of down-scaled garage sale-ing with no money needed.  Fit right into our budget.

Well, it is still alive and well in the Crosby house.  Last weekend my bug-spraying husband was spraying bugs over in the next city, and lo and behold, it was Large Garbage Pickup in that same neighborhood.  Destiny.  Rick watched as the man who lived across the street from the fully sprayed house went in and out of the garage three times and placed three bicycles on the curb.  This fascinated my husband, Mr. Wallet.  He strode over, as he’s been known to do in all parts of the world, and asked about the bikes.  Sure enough, the guy was DONE with bikes in his garage that no one used.  Rick asked if he could take them for our kids.  And now I have ELEVEN bikes parked in the garage where my van should be.  (It’s hopeless.)  Anyway, the bikes Rick brought home are OLD… old like dirt.  Two are black Huffy cruisers with white walls and springs under the seats… and the dream of my 17-year-old daughter’s heart.  Truly.  She is outside washing it right now.  She’s never washed a bike in her life, I’m pretty sure.  She went to Walmart and found large wicker baskets that you can put on the handlebars…. and foamy grips that look like wood.  She’s really into this.

The third bike, as far as we can determine, is a 1970 Schwinn with a small wheel in the front, large one in the back, a banana seat and long handle bars.  Something Beaver Cleaver rode.  To my astonishment again, our youngest son claimed it.  Yes, it shocked me.

Needless to say, our youngest daughter, who is eight, is thrilled because now there are all sorts of people wanting to go on bike rides with her.  And now, for the first time in about 10 years, I have a bike to ride.  These bikes even promote good posture!  Win win.

Minor Victory in my Post Adoption Life

As I have confessed here before, my life is so much different now that I have four children.  This week we will have been home from Colombia with the Colombian princess for five months… also marking HALF A YEAR that she has been our girl.  My, does time fly when you’re having fun coping issues. :o)  But a light has begun to shine at the end of the tunnel for me.  I’m back on top in a few areas that I feel are worth sharing for my own cathartic needs.

1.  I am back to being a coupon queen.  With the aid of my son (who loathes de-collating coupon books, but loves his mama) my coupons are all up to date in the file box.  I spent about a half hour making a list and checking it twice and headed off to do BIG saving shopping at Fry’s grocery store.  When it all came down, I filled two carts (mainly because I stocked up on paper towel) and the total would have been $280, but after my coupons I paid $106.  My pantry was bare-er than it has ever been in the past four years, but I remedied that in one trip!  My children are much happier now that they see a supply of food that will last more than two days!  Nora could not believe how much stuff I bought!  And she doesn’t even understand the savings yet!

2.  My Tupperware cupboard is cleaned out!  This is almost a miracle.  When do I have time to do mundane chores like that?  Hardly ever!  But this week, with the help of the same son and my little new helper, everything blinkin’ plastic thing was pulled from the cupboard and MATCHED with its lid!  Whoa!  I know!  We filled the recycle bin twice with those containers that were partner-less.  It makes me happy simply to open the cupboard door and look at the tidiness.

3. My master bedroom closet is clean!!!  That means I finally hauled out all the Christmas decorations, wrap and bows that were thrown in there in early January!  I also went through my clothes and threw out items that should have been thrown out years ago.  I also put together a BIG bag for Goodwill.  And filled the garbage can twice!  This does not mean that I touched any of Rick’s clothes or junk quality paraphernalia.  But I did count his t-shirts….. 33.  Why in heaven’s name does any grown man need 33 t-shirts.  They don’t.  That is on the agenda for today! (Don’t tell!)

I’m feeling almost close to normal… about three minutes off.

It’s Connie’s Fault

Connie is my friend.  We’ve been friends since we were single and had no kids.  Now we have eight kids between us. (This may seem like a repeat of the last blog, but the ending is even better!)  We have many similar addictions, including but not limited to: collecting Fiestaware dishes, garage saling, loving a blue and yellow kitchen, chotshky old quilts, re-upholstering furniture, gardening, homeschooling, scrapbooking, playing games, framing pictures of our kids and she is the one who introduced me to Goodwill.  (Even before Darla!)

That’s all well and good, but Connie also introduced Larisa, my then 13-year-old non-thrift-store-shopper, to Goodwill and boy, did we have a laugh-til-you-cry time of it! At the mention of a Goodwill store, Larisa’s lips turned up a bit, like when you’re smelling a distasteful odor, but you can’t quite figure out where it’s coming from.  She had never shopped at a USED clothing store.  She was grossed out at the thought of wearing pre-owned clothing.  You would have thought we told her that we were going to pick through a garbage dump in Mexico!  So we made the most of it. (I’ll admit that I originally fostered the same feelings and lip-curling, but I had been won over by this point in time.)

We were heading to the mecca of recycled merchandise with Connie and her three daughters who were quite accustomed to shopping at Goodwill.  Larisa’s lips were stuck in the “bad smell” position.  Larisa started asking questions like, “Do you try on the clothes in the store?” (…. and the F U N began…..)  I don’t quite remember which of us gave the terrifying answers to Larisa, but we all joined in the mortifying fun without cracking a smile! 

Us: “Yes, but there are no fitting rooms.”

Larisa: “Then where do you try them on?”

Us: “You try them on over a bathing suit.”

Larisa, horrified: “WHERE?”

Us: “Right in the aisles.”

Long pause for embarrassing mental images on Larisa’s part.

Us, reassuringly, “Don’t worry, we stand close and make a circle around you so no one sees.”

Another one of us:  “Didn’t you wear your bathing suit underneath your clothes?”

Larisa: “NO!!!”

Us: “Don’t worry, we’ll get you one there, so you can try on the clothes.”

Larisa: “…. um….  ewww…..”

And we let her believe it all until we were in the store and she saw the dressing rooms.  It was priceless.  To this day, when we are heading to Goodwill, with Connie and her girls, or Darla and her girls, we ask Larisa if she has on her bathing suit so she can try on the clothes.  Bwahahahahahahaha!

Larisa has come a long way… last weekend, she wasn’t impressed when I ventured off to TWO Goodwill stores without her… on 50% off day!!!  So she jumped in the car and went by herself!  Thatta girl!

Classic Elderly Gentlemen

My daughter and I were out about town and, oh, did we have some good laughs brought on by some GREAT old men. 

We were entering Walgreens when we noticed a line at the register of four or five people… including a heavily tattooed young woman and an elderly gentleman.  The man either needed hearing aids or simply had a booming voice… which could be heard throughout the store as he commented to the young woman, “Darlin’, you’ll grow to regret them tattoos!”  Larisa and I both burst out laughing as we made our way out of sight.  I’m sure his comment and volume made that young woman’s day!  Classic!

An hour later, we were eating In-N-Out burgers in the parking lot and a silver old-school mini van pulls in towing a light green fishing boat.  The small type of vessel that holds four people on a good day, and three elderly fishermen on a sunny day like today.  Sitting in the middle of the boat was a while plastic lawn chair…. for back support, I’m guessing??  The men slowly climbed out of the van…. VERY slowly.  These men were in their 80s at least.  The tallest of the bunch exited the van and we had the pleasure of viewing his outdoor adventure attire:  camouflage pants and a white t-shirt that said “Shut Up and Fish!” on the back.  Another burst of laughter without forewarning.  Classic!