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So, there’s a new computer on the way, and in the meantime I’m using Sam’s. It does the job, thankfully. It’s Gay’s old one … another Mac, of course … so I’m able to do most of what I could do before, but am reticent to pack it full of my stuff when its real duty is to let my son draw and paint and play “Green Eggs & Ham” endlessly.

That’s for starters …

Moving right along, if you’re a facebook friend of mine you already know that I’m madly in love and within days of living happily ever after. Yep. That light at the end of the tunnel I thought was nothing more than the headlights of an approaching train turns out to be the brightest point of a very bright future. Wow. I’m stunned and can’t wipe the silly grin off my face. Details to follow.

And … learned today that Mark’s girlfriend is 7 months pregnant, which means she managed to purchase her insurance policy minutes after he moved out of the house. I’ve wished him well and offered to babysit.

Sam and Cj are doing well, and although it’s not been easy getting the ground under their feet to steady, it’s been so worth it. Cj is loving school. Sam is brilliant, as always. Both are movin’ with the groovin’.

The wrap? Life doesn’t suck, after all, and it often makes a lot of sense when you look at it backwards.

Another bump in the road

Ack! My computer has suffered some sort of failure that makes it impossible for me to access anything! Just what I need right now. Great.

Magnar the magnificent assures me that nothing is actually lost and that he will be able to take what I need and get it onto another computer soon, so I’m not to panic. Yeah. Right.

If you’re someone in personal contact, bear with me for a while as this situation gets sorted. Readers who just pop by occasionally are probably already accustomed to irregular posting patterns lately, so will not notice any difference.

I actually have SO much to write about these days, but am not quite ready to share yet. Soon, but not yet, so stay tuned.

Will say that the kids are doing very well in school. Cj cried the first few days, then took to informing me on the drive in whether or not she would be in the mood to shed a few tears as I left. She’s loving it, though, and comes home happy, full of new songs and stories of her day. Sam is, of course, overjoyed to be back at it, and his reading has already improved tremendously after just a couple of weeks. His friends are happy to be in contact again, and he’s having a wonderful time.

I’m now beginning my first week in months off. The kids are with Mark for 10 days straight, and I’m hoping this becomes a regular monthly routine. They need time with him, he needs time with them, and I need a break from the 4-hour M-F drive to school and some “me” time. (More on what I’m doing with my “me” time in a future post.)

Cj and Sam on the first day of school

Cj and Sam on the first day of school

Apologies to all who follow me here, as I know I’ve been remiss in updates lately. No excuses, aside from the usual, and the fact that with the kids having started school I am now spending 4 hours on the road getting them back and forth. What a chunk that takes out of a day!

This is Cj’s first school experience, and she’s adjusting as well as she possibly can. Today finished her second week, and her present tactic is to decide during the drive to town whether or not she’ll cry.

Yesterday, the choice was a no. Today she informed me that she would cry, but not for very long. She does ask at least 10 times while we’re on the road if I will pick her up when school is out, but with reassurance … and me being there every day, of course … she’s learning to trust that school is a day thing that comes to an end when Mom shows up.

Sam is thrilled to be back, in a new class and with old friends. He has such a love of learning that every day is fun and satisfying for him. He’s reading well now, and that’s making him happy, as he’s determined to read all the Harry Potter books and Lord of the Rings before he’s seven. We’ll see about that, but he’s well on his way.

He had a bit of an issue with some newer kids insisting that’s he’s Chinese, but has now informed them all proudly that he was born in Cambodia AND is also Seychellois, British and American, an “international kid”!

On other fronts, I’m working on a couple of stories, trying to gear myself up to doing the “write a novel in November” thing for NaBloPoMo squared, and doing my best to figure out which car I should buy, since I soon will need one of my own. The choices here aren’t wide-ranging, but I’m getting some excellent advice from good friends and should have all the info I need and a decision made soon. It would be easier if I cared what I drive, but as long as the thing starts when I turn the key and gets me from A to B I’m completely unfazed by model, color and all the other blah, blah involved. Of course, Cj wants a pink one.

Amazingly, life goes on, and it’s not half bad these days. Well, it’s about 50/50, and that’s one hell of a lot better than it was a few months ago.

While I’m at it, I’d like to take this space to thank all of you who have sent such wonderful support my way. I love you all, even … maybe even especially … those I will never meet in person but who care so much over great distances. You have helped me more than you can even know, and my appreciation is deep and lifelong.

Hook, line and FaceBook

Is it a part of the healing process when one suddenly decides to “be friends” with men all over the world and chat for hours? Ya got me, but that’s what I’m up to at the moment. I’ll admit it … I’m a FaceBook junkie all of a sudden, even though I’m still pretty clueless on most of the ins and outs of the site.

Am not completely a shut-in, though, as I did go to the movies last night. First time I’ve done that here in 8 years or so, but when Magnar the Magnificent insists he gets me out of the house, I go along willingly. Saw “Wanted” and totally enjoyed it and the whole evening.

Where I am these days

For anyone interested in my writing on adoption issues, I have recently found the energy to post on the topic again over on the Adoption Under One Roof site I helped found that’s now been around for seven months.

I’m in the process there of going over the details of my disappearing act and reasons for, my guilt, pain and all that jazz, so if that sounds like something you want to read about, please check it out.

I will NOT be doing that here, or at least not in the sort of depth I’m aiming in that direction.

The title of this post is not one I expected to ever write nor an emotion I would experience, but this morning I am most certainly missing being in the loop of the US political scene.

My measly one hour of CNN consisted of commentary of Obama’s speech at the convention, and although it was conducted with more enthusiasm than I’ve seen from some of the folks at the network than usual, I get the sense that an historical moment passed me by … one that I would have enjoyed a whole heck of a lot, too.

As mentioned in my previous post, my daughter is stumping for Obama in North Carolina and thrilled to be doing so. Having not seen her jazzed about national affairs like this ever before, my 1960’s protesting soul is thrilled at her passion, and her choice of direction for aiming that passion pleases me.

I recently read “The Audacity of Hope”, my first introduction into Barack beyond soundbites, and found only one topic to disagree with in the entire book. (I’m not a fan of bio fuels, ethanol especially, and consider them an unacceptable compromise over fossil fuels that’s going to bite the world in the butt big time.)

For the past eight years, I’ve been living as an embarrassed expat apologizing for GW Bush and wondering how in hell such a stupid man got the job of President … TWICE … which caused no end of worry over what the hell my fellow Americans could possibly be thinking.

Finally, finally, there’s something I can understand happening, a process and a conclusion (so far) that makes sense on many levels, and a hopefulness in the air that’s not been detectable, much less breathable, in a very long time.

So, yes, I find myself missing the politics of today’s America, the hype, the groove, the zeal and wholehearted and hopeful commitment that has grabbed a generation with little example in living memory of happy days being here again.

I will, of course, be voting, as every vote DOES count, and following the campaign as I can from here with my limited TV and painfully slow Internet, and while doing so I’ll be envying all of you there the national frisson that’s taken hold, shaken things up and has so many so hopeful.

Enjoy the ride, and keep up the good work!

Braggin’ on my kid

I could, with very little prompting, boast endlessly about the innate genius, fantastic beauty and amazing accomplishments of all four of my children, and sometime do.

Today, however, I’ll just post a link to this article in the New York Times that shows the quality of the paper by quoting my eldest child, my daughter Jennifer, in a story about her presidential candidate of preference.

Speaking of flash, here’s one that just came to me …

While following some of the ways people find my blog, I found this where someone has included this blog in a “Best Blog” contest, and three people have already voted for me. Wow. Thanks, whoever you are.

The topic is “Best Parenting Blog”, so I’m not deserving of that these days since my writing has been so “me is miserable” slanted, but I do appreciate the nomination and the votes.

Made my day, actually, and that’s very nice.

Okay, I’ll admit that the male swimmers bring to my conflicted mind images of substance that has flash written all over them in what could be whipped cream, but it’s not the athletes that are my issue today … although I suspect some may be eventually.

This story about the little girl with the beautiful voice shunted aside for the pretty little doll who lip synced the song that stirred hearts during the opening ceremonies has me fuming. Add that to the admission that some of the flash … the real flashy flash of fireworks … were fake, computer-generated for the world TV viewing audience, and I’m taken back to 1989 when I visited China just three weeks before the sit-in started in Tiananmen Square. You remember? The one that showed without any doubt the brutal, ugly foot of the Chinese government on the throat of human rights.

At the time, Beijing was preparing to host the Asia Games, and construction was going on everywhere. Huge apartment complexes had been built for TV skyline shots, but every one of them was nothing more than a shell lit like a movie set to give the impression that they were real and habitable homes of real Chinese. Totally fake and just for the cameras.

That was China almost 20 years ago, and no matter how loudly or often shouts of “It’s all so different now!” come around, I don’t buy it, and I resent the hell out of the fact that a country that is responsible for making the lives of millions of people in the world a misery is getting so many Brownie points for the illusion they have so carefully cultivated.

What’s next? How much of the news in the future will feature revelations that will turn medals into bottle tops and have broken records start sounding like broken records with repeated refrains of “doping scandal” popping up as technology catches up or people start revealing real events?

And if anyone tells me that sports and politics are two separate things … especially where the Olympics are involved … I swear I’ll clobber them with a baseball bat and call it a game, not a maneuver or a consequence.

Big Shoes

No, I’m not writing about empty places in my life that need filling, but rather a pair of strappy sandals with a three-and-a-half inch heel that was delivered on Friday.

One thing possibly not noticeable in the many photos posted of my husband and me together is the fact that I am 5’9″ and he is a touch over 5’7″. Not that that ever made any difference that I was aware of … although I suspect his new girlfriend, much shorter than he is, does add to how he now considers his stature … as I’d been married to a tall guy who made my life miserable, so a short, kind and loving man was fine by me.

Now that the “kind and loving” bits are hard to find, Mark’s smallness has become a feature I am more aware of, and the fact that I’ve spent the last 15 years in flats tweaks a tiny resentment.

Of course, living where I do, flip-flops are de rigeur. Thanks primarily to my mother I have quite the collection of fancy ones that fit most occasions, and I will continue to sport over-spangled, fancy beach shoes for years to come.

I have, however, missed the dressier, snazzier, sexier footwear that comes with extra inches. No more. This weekend, I strapped ’em on and went out.

I had forgotten how different the world looks from six-feet-plus up, and also the impression I make walking into a room at full height in full glory … dressed to the nines, makeup accentuating my positives and a head above the crowd.

Yep. Apparently, I still have something of myself left that catches eyes and compliments, and how much do I need that at this point in my life? One hell of a lot.

Little did I know how far those extra 6 inches (three per foot) would take my self-image, my confidence and self respect. It was quite a pump, and one I fully intend to take advantage of as often as possible.

Hooray for sexy shoes and the benefits of. They’ve taken me more than a few steps forward in the process of healing, and felt very good while doing so.