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!

Guys in my pocket.

Walking Caden to school has been the sweetest part of my days since he started Kindergarten last week. After dealing with sleepy-eyed, surly teens, barely masking their demands as requests, his smiling little face and chatty good humor are a refreshing turn in the morning road. Every morning, he asks the same thing "Can we be guys on the way to school?"

This activity of making inanimate hunks of plastic come to life with voice and movement isn't a totally foreign concept. When the plastic was in Barbie form, I could do it for hours in my early years. Having my mother's afternoon soap operas to provide lots of dramatic scenario ideas, these dolls lived on the brink of ecstasy or disaster every moment. Plastic in Transformer, Lego, Power Ranger or other boyishly masculine form is a lot more challenging. Power Rangers don't go on dates, or find out they have a terminal illness. Nor do they fight over who gets the man. They pretty much just defend the citizens with any means necessary while they are on patrol of the 4 blocks between here and Washington Elementary School. There is a bit of drama when the enemy is the next block over, but the evil 'Don't Walk' sign is mockingly preventing us from destroying him. These adventures are a real 'think outside the box' activity for me.

After he's marched in a line to Mrs. Haught's classroom, I am left holding 'the guys'. They become symbolic, a precious reminder of our brief time together on the trek to school. They are very carefully deposited deep into my pocket, so I can place them on his bureau, and he can smile a little, too, when he comes home and remembers the morning.

violated

After 6+ months of hip pain during walking/cycling, I decided that is wasn't going to jusst go away. Diagnosis: Bursitis. Great. I've just turned 40 and my body is failing already. Exploration of treatment options landed me in the quick-fix first; a shot of cortisone directly into the joint. The very thought of it was nauseating, but with a trek around the Ohio State Fair looming just days ahead, it seemed the best route.

This morning, injection day, the queasiness hit. Why in the world was I being SUCH a baby? I was in tears thinking of what was to come. Sitting in the doctor's office, and wishing I'd had a valium margarita for breakfast, my heart was pounding out of my chest. Where was this fear coming from? The utter dread of this needle was not typical; not for me.

After a few OH MY GOD!!s, the procedure was over. On the drive home, it hit me. I hadn't had a needle in my body since Caden was born. Caden's birth was traumatic, and I'm still healing from it. I had a total flashback to this time. The violations to my body were numerous, and , some, without consent. I was so angry and scared that my beautiful homebirth had turned into this medically managed freak show that I have forever scars on my heart...and, sometimes, an unrelated event will irritate them.

Thankfully, my loving Jon was there, to talk and make it all better with lunch at the Levy House . The blessing of a sweet, supportive family is mine, and I thank God for their healing and His in my life.