Getting older

Turning 40 last year was a milestone, and caused an inventory-taking look at body, mind, soul. Here's what I came up with so far: 1. Doing the job you were put on this planet to do is important. How do you know what it might be? Try reading the bible, spending time *alone* with God, and asking him to speak with you about said path. It's still not crystal clear, but I'm a little dense. Still, I'm beginning to see a light here and there. 2. My children are my heart. I love them more than I love anyone else on this Earth; I love every single thing about them, right down to the mole on their second toe, their crazy shenanigans or their gentle, caring spirit. Every day is spent taking care of them, not as a chore, but in such a way that they know that they know that the know how much I love them. Parenting with intent and purpose ~ it's a good thing! 3. My dear, sweet, funny husband got let off the hook this year. He rescued me when I was a single mom with two babies, looking at a subsidized apartment, along with other government assistance, all while working a full time job and being a full time student. Missing those early years of my childrens lives would have been devastating to me. I held him to the standards of a savior, a God even; he *did* save me, after all. This year, I decided to let him down from the pedestal, and join the human race. Happily married doesn't even begin to cover it. 4. Move more, eat less, or you will turn into the tiny, round Italian meatball all of your dad's family has either had to fight or become. This doesn't mean a casual stroll downtown to have lunch. It's pavement pounding, sweating-til-you-smell running, every day. Every . Single . Day. 5. Look at everyone through eyes that see their soul, seeing past any rough exterior or pretend personality. Love them all, even the bad ones, for they are the most desperate for it. That covers the basics, I've also learned that asparagus and broccoli are ok (it only took me 40 years to come to that conclusion), but I still have to fight my carboholic tendencies.

Jeepers, Creepers!

Kensley has always had uh-MAZ-ing eyes. From the moment she was born, they peered back at everyone in milky blue perfection. Alex nicknamed her Fishy-eyes the day they met, and her father worried about the fact that I'd let him bring a little tree frog in to play with a few days earlier. He thougth it had 'marked' the baby, and she was destined to look like an amphibian. This kid had some remarkably large peepers, set into a teeny little face; a few months later, she grew the most lovely dark, long, brown lashes to frame them.

I've always taken such great delight in her sparkling, beautiful eyes. Having everyone make the most wonderful compliments to her made it difficult to remain humble. I had been the manufacturer, after all. Then...it happened.

She perfected 'the eyeroll'.

Now, anytime I look at her sweet face, I stand the chance of seeing them roll skyward. These beautiful eyes, the ones anyone could get lost in, have turned into the ultimate mom-weapon. My deep, relaxing breathing has improved significantly since she learned her new trick, and I go to my happy place so often, I bought my own condo there. It's pink....

Vision Therapy

Hearing me sing the praises of vision therapy isn't anything new; those months spent travelling to Columbus with my homeschooling girl and preschool boy were the best investment I've made in Caden so far, and I'm sure you're tired of hearing about the miracle that I know it was. Every time I see him enjoy something that he previously was too afraid to detach from my body to even try to experience, I get a little emotional. This year brought his first ride on a kiddie roller coaster, and other bigger-kiddy rides (before now, he was even afraid of most of the baby ones). He played on his first real soccer team, and is trying really hard to control those scissors and crayons!

Most importantly, this kid learned to jump off of and climb up on things. Never in his 5+ years did he jump down..from anything. Climbing was limited to how far I could reach to hold on to him, because he wasn't going solo. Being evaluated by the vision therapist made us realize that the kid had little to no depth perception, and didn't see 'in 3-D'. His world was flat, and he was having trouble navigating the round one the rest of us lived in. No wonder he just sat with his mama when everyone else was playing. Our family doc was convinced that he has Asperger's Syndrome, or was 'somewhere on the spectrum', because of his lack of interaction with his peers. I knew he really enjoyed playing quietly with other kids, when he could find one that would stand still long enough to play with him. We had him evaluated for autism at Children's in Columbus, just to but that worry to rest once and for all.

On our trip to Old Man's Cave this past weekend, this wild man of mine climbed trees, rocks and his dad, just to jump off again. He ran into the dark crevices of the rock structures, balanced on fallen logs, and gave me heart attacks from running too close to the edge of the cliffs. Drawing in dirt with sticks, and sliding down muddy trails to try to be one with the 6 year old indian kids of long ago (because they didn't have real playgrounds) were all on his agenda.

Had we not discovered, and believed in vision therapy enough to take a major chunk out of our lives to make it happen, I am positive he would have spent yesterday clinging to my body, freaking out in fear and resorting to spending the day playing quietly in the car while we waited for everyone else to finish hiking. So, when you see me witha goofy grin on my face, and a tear rolling down my cheek when my kid is in the crazy-zone, it's probably because I'm 'having a moment'; a moment of thankfulness and gratitude for my son who has turned 'all boy'.

Just some thoughts...

I just paid my son's crew fees. For those of you who don't know, it's several hundreds of dollars, not counting the extra clothing, travel expenses, etc. We are, most definitely, a middle-class family, owning a house (home ownership is overrated. We'd rather rent a condo), cars (again, I'm wondering if leasing is a better option), and being able to pay for our clothing (even if it does come from a thrift shop occasionally), utilities and food without government assistance. Besides those claims to fame, we have to be very careful with where the rest of it goes. We are not a family of 4 ~ double that. Our output could easily exceed our income if we were not careful. Crew is not a 'wow, that's steep' kind of expense for us. It's a 'let's start planning, because we'll have crew fees in a few months' frame of mind.

I'm not begrudging the kid his crew fees. Being a part of this team, a 6-day a week, 3 hour a day commitment, has done wonders for increasing his maturity level and reducing the shenanigan-type behaviors. The coach, though young, seems to have a genuine heart for these boys, and a desire to see them succeed. For this reason, crew fees = bargain of the century, to me.

Row on, Buddy, Row on!

Stay off the sidewalks!

After one previously unsuccessful attempt, the luck o' the Irish was with Alex today. When he pushed his chair back and smiled, I knew he'd made it to 30 correct questions without missing more than 6. It really does pay to actually read that little booklet they hand out. Consider this your warning; stay off the sidewalks and keep your children indoors. Almost 16-year-old-boy is at the wheel.

Thinking it was good enough to stop behind the car at the stop sign, and not actually again when it was your turn at the intersection was probably his only major mistake, but he has a lead foot. My dad would say 'just like his mama', but I quit driving that fast years ago when I strapped my first baby-bucket car seat into the middle rear of my Caymen Green Topaz.

That car seat held the most precious being I'd ever had the privilege of knowing so far, and he was all mine ~ all six pounds of him. The thought of driving him around, that there might be a teenage boy driving along and not paying attention, who might cause harm to one of the brown peach-fuzzy hairs on his head, made me stay home. A lot. Now he IS a teenage boy who I hope and pray will be paying full attention as we learn that *each* car has to stop at the stop sign, not just the one in front. How did we get here already? I can still remember wondering how I would ever be able to allow him out of my sight, deciding that it really wasn't so weird to be a 40 year old man living with your mama (as long as it was Alex), and that public schools were probably overrated and homeschooling him would be a much better idea.

If you ever thought you might want to talk to God a lot more often, I would highly suggest giving a huge part of your heart to a kid like Alex. He's been stitched, stapled, steri-stripped, glued, slung and casted back together more times than I care to list. Climbing up bookshelves, running headlong into things (was the kid running with his eyes closed?!), dancing jigs in the bathtub, rolling from a couch into the corner of a coffee table (at the age of 7, years ~ not months), flying from speeding bikes, stepping on rusty nails, jumping down a flight of stairs, and slamming his hand into car doors; these are just the highlights.

Now...he's going to be driving alone soon. I'll blink again, and he'll be driving alone ~ off to college.

Things You Learn When Your Dad Answers Your Mom's Cell Phone

I'm still laughing....

I quote:

~ Your mom is down there at the far (fire) department, shaking her ass with that floozie and all those fat women. (She's taking a Zumba class).

~ The never-ending fence building (he owns 200+ acres) has commenced after a long winter's break. No, I don't need any help. Since I started building fence, it helps me stay out of trouble. It's like therapy. I haven't been to a bar or a whorehouse since I started again! (He's the most devout of Catholic worshipers I've ever met in my life)

~ Crew costs WHAT??!! I hope to everything holy they are giving him a gold-lined boat to row in!

~ I don't know why I don't buy a new tractor, they just don't make them like the MFer I've got any more. Some new gaskets and a coat of paint is all she needs. (Massey Ferguson, not the other MF word)

~ I'm sure glad you decided to let Jon hang around. He's a good guy. I'm glad he didn't take me serious when I said I'd kill him. He didn't think I meant it, right?

~ You be safe, Baby, and drive smart. I want to see you when I come down to watch Alex row in one of those damn gold-plated boats.

::sigh:: I'm homesick.

Prejudice is Alive and Well

Maybe I'm oblivious, but I don't see a lot of prejudicial behaviors in public, except for one sector: Teenage boys. I've been out without my own, and watched store owners and patrons, pedestrians and other general-public-types take closer looks, become 'alert' , and raise eyebrows in a "I've got my eye on you" kind of way. They are being pre-judged based on age/gender.

Now, granted, this particular group of humans does have its downfalls. They are, every one of them, experiencing surging hormones along with the infamous frontal lobe regression. Some have driven their parents to the brink of insanity, and then left the house to see whom they could deliver there next. Some were never taught to respect other people and their possessions. Some have been hurt beyond anything we are capable of comprehending, and don't have what it takes to control their outlashes at a society that failed them.

But, in the grand scheme, most of them are good boys. I've spent hours at cross-country meets, crew meets, field trips all over the MOV and beyond, volunteering in classrooms, with smaller groups of them in my attic, in my kitchen, and my back yard. There's really only one that I've banned from the house, and that was because he had had way more than three strikes, and seemed to show no remorse for breaking rule after rule after rule. (and I'm not talking about small infractions. This kid was out for destruction of anything my family held in esteem or guarded as holy, and laughed like a demon when he accomplished it). All in all, these are good kids. They are bigger, smellier, louder and roudier than the cute little boys you once dressed in baby blue and cooed over, but they are the same being, and, inside, still want to be smiled at and loved.

The next time a teenage boy walks into a place of business, passes you on the sidewalk or rides his bike past your lawn, give him a smile and a wave...it might be the first one he's had all day. Remember, your adorable little tykes are going to grow into these awkward, finding-myself creatures one day. How do you want people to respond to them?

*IF* I had been on Facebook at all...

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon is *really* looking forward to being sundressed and flip-flopped. C'mon, sun, shine harder!

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon is really getting tired of hearing people say 'WINNING' all the time.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon visited the Small Business Administration today, and walked out with a handful of information, and signed up for some free classes. The exploration has begun.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon has a freshly bathed and brushed Shih Tzu.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon and Jon should have given up the *same* thing for Lent. If I have a glass of wine with dinner, he retaliates by updating his status on Facebook.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon is REALLY enjoying the Beth Moore study of David. Really.

5 year old seatmate

As I settled in with a good magazine in the charter bus on its way to a kid's retreat, I felt someone staring at me. When I saw the most adorable, blue-eyed five year old's face looking at mine, I didn't imagine I'd get much reading accomplished, as I asked if she would like to sit beside me, and she pushed past into the window seat.

You learn interesting things when a five year old becomes your seatmate. Her favorite topic of discussion was her phlegm dilema ~ too much of it. She took great delight in describing each detail of how it felt when it came up her throat, the taste of it in her mouth, the color, the voluminous amount that she managed to cough out last night and the cause: having a piece of her mother's birthday cake. Apparently, she needs to be on a gluten-free diet.

The pleasure was also mine of being introduced to 'Cutie', who happened to be a stuffed kitten along for the trip. Cutie loved to lick people, and demonstrated this several times. I was rewarded by being shown all of Cutie's tricks, including some dance moves and yoga positions. Just when you thought there wasn't anything more, you discovered that the cat wasn't an ordinary one. Oh no! This cat could TALK, and talk it did. When Little Miss Seatmate wasn't talking, Cutie was.

I had the pants beaten off of me in tic-tac-toe, and learned the names of each of LMS's immediate and extended family. I was shown the special lunch packed just for her (smart girl! the bagged lunch I was rewarded with later that day was dismal at best. Thank God it contained Oreos and an apple, or I would have starved), and allowed the privilege of carrying her jacket. Once we got there, I learned that I had not only shared a seat, but earned myself a close companion for the day. She never left my side, and was usually on my lap or hip.

At the end of the day, on the way home, she fell asleep on my shoulder. As much as my ear were ringing from the incessant chatter, I missed it. My own little girl is almost a teenager, and not nearly as enthralled with my attention as this little one was today...but she used to be. She used to release so many words from her little mouth that I could almost see them weaving through the air. Sometimes, she would ask; Am I talking too much, Mommy? I hope I always said 'no'.

Day 3 of No Facebook.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon doesn't come home with the run-of-the-mill library books. Among our new and exciting titles are: Learn to speak Spanish, Civil War Spies, United States Government for kids: The Presidency and Patriotism. At least we aren't reading Spongebob and Barnacle Boy.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon could think of many more fun ways to blow a thousand bucks than paying property tax.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon is beginning to hope her house has some bouyancy....

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon is happy that her dear friends are actually texting their Facebook statuses to her phone. It's kind of pathetic, but it's also awesome.

In other news...

From the *AWKWARD* department ~

My son informed me that he was giving up soda for Lent ~ Alex, not Caden. Because his friends think it's funny to follow me on Twitter, I follow them as well. As a result, I know that soda is *not* what they are giving up for Lent. I also know that I won't have to worry about interrupting anything when I go into his bedroom at night to be sure he is A) breathing, B) covered up from the drafts and C) hasn't jumped from the balcony to TP the middle school. Awkward doesn't even begin to cover it.

Said son turns 16 this month. The mixed emotions of less drop-em-off-pick-em-up time (kind of a wooohooo feeling), and sheer terror of letting this maniac of a boy behind the wheel of a car are something I have to come to terms with in the next 6 months. I will probably be back on Facebook by then, and will warn you of when to stay off of the sidewalks.

All in all, Alex is becoming quite the fine young canibal..err..I mean man. His dedication to crew, his ability to use his frontal lobe from time to time and his passionate, caring heart beating under it all are just a few of my favorite things, just a few of the things that make me smile, squeeze his shoulder, and give thanks to God for allowing me to be his mama.

Things I Wanted to Post on Facebook

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon wishes she hadn't brought the industrial-sized tub o' cookie dough into the house.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon's little boy is one smart cookie. His first venture into the 'hot lunch' world left him wondering what the fuss was about. Apparently, mechanically-seperated-chicken isn't his thing!

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon would rather have snow than the cold, wet sludge on the ground now.

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon and Jon Michael Bourdon celebrated Empty House Afternoon with a rainy-day nap :) (yes, *just* a nap)

Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon must have been on some pretty strong drugs to decide to give up Facebook for Lent.

I would have taken a picture of the Muskingum across the street, now edging its way up the parking lot under the bridge, and made some quippy quote about building an ark.

I would have taken a picture of Caden skipping to school in his fire fighter rainboots, and professed some love :)

Yes, Crysta Venettozzi Bourdon misses her some Facebook time!

What I wanted to say was.....

Facebook is blogging for those of us with ADHD. I have yet to have anyone professionally diagnose me as such, but I'm sure if there is a test, I'll pass with flying colors. I have quick, fleeting thougths, and have a Droid with an app to record them. It might be fun to get a compilation of all of my posts to Facebook ~ I may have already written a book, and not even know it.

Life here at the bungalow is just funny. The 20somethings that come and go, searching for life's path, the teens that think they know it all and can't believe they have to live under our rule of lesser intelligence, the 6-year-old ~ cute, quirky and always cracking a line or two to make you pee your pants trying *not* to laugh at him, and Jon and Myself, strapped in tight and enjoying the loop-de-loops of life. Yes, it's a sit-com waiting to be played out by taller, made-up, liposuctioned movie stars.

The little blurbs I post each day when something strikes me as noteworthy are glimpses into our life, and a peek into my soul. You can easily guess what my passions are and where my treasure lies; I don't wear my heart on my sleeve ~ I post it on Facebook.

Day one, not so bad.

Today, my children had a two hour delay, so I stayed in bed longer than usual. I always like a good morning to sleep in, but there was also an alterior motive. Facebook is usually my ten minute wake up call, my chance to get both eyes open and some caffeinated Vitamin Water in and running before I have to kick it into high gear. This morning, I stayed in bed until the last possible moment, avoiding the siren's call to log in.

Then, there's the problem of the smart phone. My ancient Droid has the Facebook app, and, at least 10 times today, I hit the damn F icon. Good grief, is the addiction that strong? Not many people think I'll be able to make it the entire Lenten season. They may be right. But, for today, I've kept my resolution. I didn't really have time to do anything significant with my usual time I would dedicate to 'checking Facebook', but surely that will come after several days.

I miss it. Immensely.

I'm giving up Facebook for Lent ~ am I NUTS?!

In my ever-forward-moving attempt at understanding and relating to the God that created me, the God to whom I owe everything, down to the breath I just exhaled, deciding what to give up for Lent this year became a different experience; more significant.

Rather recently, I've discovered that I have developed a distaste for religions and the rule followers within them. Not that I don't try to follow them myself, but, if that's your main goal, you're really missing the point. God wants us to believe in His son, everything He taught us, and to passionately persue a relationship with Him. Without the flesh and bones I've grown to know and love as a human, it's been difficult for me. I've felt holy presences surrounding me, very strongly, several times in my life, but wished for something more concrete. The struggle is still there, but I'm learning to work around it.

Giving up Facebook for Lent is a HUGE leap of faith. I still have not formulated a plan for dealing with my withdrawl. I know that I must replace it with something positive, and have faith that it will happen. There is a birth scheduled somewhere within those 40 days, and I'll fill in the rest with good things.

Playing the 'villes, the 'burgs or the 'wars was never something I was into. People are my passion. Being in the presence of another human makes my soul sing! Learning more about the people I love, and interacting with them daily, no matter how far away they may be are the drugs that keep me addicted to Facebook. Oh, how I will miss this...

So, my friends, stay in touch! Call, text or stop by; and, if you really want to know what I'm up to, I'll be blogging here . I will make my final post tonight, after what promises to be a fun Fat Tuesday party, on Facebook. Then, for 40 days, we'll see where the Spirit leads!