Haiku about a Tortilla Chip

 A while back, we were shaking our heads at something our mother did. She had a sore throat. And after questioning and the doctor looking down her throat, we found out that Mom was eating Doritos and a piece scratched her throat. When I heard this I thought, "Only Mom." It gave us a chuckle. Well, today, I took Mom to lunch and we had tortilla chips with our meal. Guess what? we were enjoying our food when all of a sudden there was a sharp pain in my throat. Yes! A sharp piece of tortilla chip was trying to puncture my esophagus! Wow, did it hurt! Every time I tried to swallow, it jabbed me. I drank some lemonade and it finally gave up the fight. Now, I have a sore throat. Every time I swallow it hurts. And I am reminded that half of my blood is my mother's. 

I was on an errand, wincing from my sore throat,  I got thinking. There has been many, many times when I wondered how on earth am I her daughter? We are so different. We don't even look alike. At least I don't see any similarities--not like I see in my sisters. She has an extremely green thumb; Me? No, but I wish. She loves being out in the hot weather; I'm uncomfortable when it's above 85 degrees.  She can be very outgoing; I tend to be on the quiet side. She's tidy; I lean toward the unorganized. Mom loves to dress up and wear makeup; give me my jammies and slippers any time. The list goes on and on. In the car, I asked myself, well how are we similar? What did I get from my mom? I composed a list in my head. She gave me the joy of crocheting. She gave me some of my depression and anxiety. She gave me the gift of being able to make a good pot of rice. She gave me my strong teeth.  She gave me the ability to laugh at myself. She gave me the desire for a great deal. She gave me strength to endure under much stress. Oh, I love my mom so much! I love the things I received from her. 

Tonight I write my haiku, about that dang piece of tortilla chip that reminds me that I am from my mother, and as hard as it is to admit: For good or bad, sometimes I say, "My mother, myself."

 Each swallow tells me

"You are your mother's daughter."

And I answer. "Ouch."

Haiku about My Nephew, Oliver

It's been two weeks since my beautiful nephew died. One week since his funeral. I recognize that I am trying to accept this new sadness, this addition to myself I have to agree to live with. It is becoming a part of who I call "me." Two weeks without Oliver physically with us. The sadness at times is immense.

And yet, I found myself singing in the shower this evening. It's been a long time since I've done that. A very long time.  And I ask, how? How can we live with it? To live with "losing" our Oliver. To live with only being allowed to see him in our minds' eyes and in the hundreds of still pictures. It is not enough, will never be enough. We ache to touch him, and to hear his voice, and to have his eyes meet ours. What a surprise it was when I heard my own voice singing. It seems impossible that I was singing in the shower. What a content thing to do. The words to this song that we sang often at mass when I was a child was coming out of my mouth as I poured conditioner into the palm of my hand. And I felt that it will be alright. Even with this heavy addition to my emotional map.

Tonight, I write a haiku, inspired by my dear little nephew, Oliver, whose acknowledgement of his happiness and whose joy of living in the moment has become something I admire and will strive to do often, regardless of what has  happened and what may be coming around the corner.

Yesterday is done.

Don't fret about Tomorrow.

Right Now is what counts. 

Haiku about My Mom (3)

You know when you get an image, or a moment in time, or a piece of a conversation, just a little smidgen of a day get tucked in your brain, and then it comes to the surface days, maybe weeks, later? Sometimes it makes you laugh. But, I have one that puts me on the brink of tears. I have been tucking it back every time it surfaces. I told my sisters briefly about it. I used very little words, and I felt my nose start that itchy feeling I get when I'm just about to cry. I just said at the end, "That was rather sad hearing her say that." And that is the last I've confronted it, until today. It's been popping in and out of my consciousness all day. It's time to release it.

Last week my mom had an appointment with her neurologist, a checkup on how she's doing dementia-wise. For a few minutes, I had to remember where the office was. Mom told me where she thought it was and I knew that wasn't it. I found the address and we left. I told Mom, "It's right across the street from the hospital." But, Mom insisted it was not, so I drove her to where she said it was located and she saw that it was her allergist office instead. She didn't say anything and we went to her appointment. Afterward, we had to go back to the allergist for something that is another story all together. On the way home, we passed the neurologist's office and Mom said, "There is Dr. Yukki's office. I can walk from my house, just go on Cherry Street...." "Yes, Mom," I say to her. She says "See, honey, I can remember." And those five words have been haunting me since. 

Gardenia-one of my mother's favorites.

This evening I write a haiku, inspired by my mother's words, which she uttered to assure herself, more than me, that in that "bad" moment, she indeed can still remember. 

Struggling to find

that fact, which is hidden deep,

to prove I still can. 

Haiku about KISS

When I read that it's Ace Frehley's birthday today, about a half a dozen different memories shot through my mind. Ace Frehley was a member of the rock band KISS. They were popular during the late '70s, known for their black and white face makeup and their platform shoes and elaborate costumes. 

One of my KISS memories is being in the girls' locker room at E.E. Fell Junior High School. A couple of girls started singing Rock and Roll All Night, others started joining them and soon we had the whole locker room singing. By the way, this was the "honor" locker room. You get membership there if you consistently take showers after gym class. The teachers don't have to monitor shower taking in the "honor" locker room. Well, the singing must have gotten pretty loud. Mrs. Magsig  yelled in for us to shut up. We did. We didn't want to lose membership in the "honor" locker room.  

 

A recent KISS memory was taking our boys to a KISS concert with a good friend of ours. It was the boys' first concert. And KISS did not fail, with it's pyrotechnics and stage antics. Our oldest watched the whole concert with big eyes and a big smile. Our middle child had to leave about half way through the concert. The light show entranced him and then all of a sudden he rolled up on the ground and wanted to just lie there. I think the light show was too stimulating. I took him out and we listened while we followed people around the venue.

Two fun memories thanks to KISS. So Happy Birthday, Ace Frehley, and here's a haiku honoring your former band. 

Paul, Ace, Gene, Peter

want to party ev'ry day

And we sing along.

Haiku for My Husband (2)

Yesterday was my husband's birthday. In the morning, he taught his classes, and then enjoyed a relatively quiet afternoon just doing his thing. We had a nice evening with him.  We went to dinner where he enjoyed some chicken nachos and a beverage. At home he received his gifts. This year they were a Monty Python t-shirt which sported the line "It's just a flesh wound," a book of daily devotions for the intellect which contains 365 lessons from the seven fields of knowledge, and a lapdesk, which is not just any lapdesk (It has a lamp and its elevation can be adjusted!). I can't wait to see him reading his devotions at his lapdesk donning his new t-shirt. Afterwards, we had cake. It was a Snickers cake and everyone raved about it. Overall, I think it was a good day for him. 

Here is a haiku for my beloved, who seems to be always there for me when I need a shoulder to cry on, an ear to hear one of my crazy ideas, or a second brain to plan or connive.

My husband, my friend,

My brace, my fun, my balance

My cheer, my husband.

Haiku about Dealing with "Hard Things"

As I sit here realizing that I have not posted in over a month, I ask myself  why not? The last time I posted I had recently received news of my mother's dementia and my nephew's new cancer treatment being the last try before hospice is called in for his care. I had also been struggling with my daughter's sadness/depression. I had been struggling to face these heartaches and to support my sister and mother and daughter as they move through these rough challenges in their lives, sad that I cannot remove their burdens. I suppose the answer to the question "Why haven't I been writing daily?" is that life pulled the rug from beneath me and I had to spend some time trying to fix that feeling. And I think I have for the most part and can continue writing--even about the difficult stuff.

"Sometimes hard things happen that isn't easy to understand and hard to deal with," my daughter wrote a few days ago. It's a fact. They are hard to deal with and you have to work at it. Since my last entry, my nephew's medical care has been turned over to hospice. He's at home, being loved like crazy as usual.  This is one of those "hard things" my daughter wrote about. "Hard" isn't nearly strong enough is it? But, truly, what word is? It hurts. We have known this time would come; we tried to prepare for it. But, as someone pointed out, you can prepare for a punch in the face the best you can, it's still going to hurt. The sting of the news has lessened, now we are "dealing" with it--accepting it as something we have to live with, and then living with it.  

 Did you know?

The jellyfish is a symbol of acceptance and faith.

 

Today, I write my haiku of this struggle to live with these "hard things" life gives us from time to time.

Acceptance of this.

It seemed unattainable.

But, then, here we are.

Haiku for My Mother (2)

Sometimes, something will occur that you don't plan, and your whole life changes--perhaps even your whole being changes. Your day to day life changes. Your plans for the future changes. Your outlook on a person changes. Your explanations as to why things are changes. Your emotional state changes. This last bit--the emotional changes I want to address today. Sometimes, something happens and you perhaps become a little sadder. You hope the sadness will weaken. But, perhaps what really happens is that you start getting use to living with that bit of sadness added onto your emotional map. And, of course, this could happen with joy, pride, frustration, any emotion that is so strongly. 

I'm going to stick with sadness, because I've been experiencing that of late. Today my mom and I went to a grocery to quickly pick up dinner stuff for my family. My mom followed me around and did not venture on her own like she use to years ago. I had to repeat my directions to her about the rotisserie chicken. That she could just pick it up and take it. But, she looked at it, until I picked it up and placed it in her cart. There was also a confusing conversation about her wanting a salad, but at the end she did get what she wanted, which was potato salad.  A month ago, I would have been frustrated, chalking it up to her not wearing her hearing aides again.  But, today it made me sad. Knowing what I know now, from what I learned about my mom last week Monday, I realize this could be due to something that cannot be fixed by something like hearing aides. You see, we found out that Mom's brain has "characteristics that point to dementia". It makes the confusing conversations, the inability to keep her attention on our talks, her occasionally forgetting what we told her two days ago, so much more severe.  It's so sad to think of losing Mom this way---not in body, but in mind. This is a bit of sadness that has been added to my emotional map that won't ever be lifted. I will have to live with it. 

Today, I write my haiku to celebrate my mom and her wonderful self.

She loves her gardens,

bargains, coffee, crocheting.

And her family.

Haiku about Dirty Snow

 Today as I drove around doing this and that, I couldn't help but feel the effects of my environment. These piles of old snow, in combination with the gray skies in the morning brought me down. The gray grim surroundings did not aid in combating my blues of late. I want them gone. And soon, please. 

Today's haiku is about snow when it has outlast its welcome.

Yukky piles of gross

from sparkly, fluffy splendor.

Sad transformation.

Haiku for My Sister

Today is the first day in a week that I have felt like writing. My brain has been too busy processing some news I received last week to write. I've written over 60 posts, and there is a part of my life that is almost always there on my mind, and yet I've only mentioned it once here. And that was in my Haiku about a Last Visit post. It is a difficult one to write about because it is so emotional. It is my nephew's cancer. My brother-in-law writes about it a lot. He says it is therapeutic. It allows him to release some of those pent up feelings from time to time. One thing I have learned from creating these postings is that writing, indeed, can be therapeutic.

My nephew was diagnosed with neuroblastoma about two and a half years ago. He is six. Last week we found out the last treatment did not help the cancer. He has gone through all the treatments available to him save one. His cancer will be biopsied and studied, and we will find out if he is eligible for the study treatment in two weeks. We also found out that if the treatment is not available to him, or if he is too ill, or that it doesn't work, hospice will take over his care, and that his life will end in months or even weeks. It is an incredibly sad thing to hear. We have all known that this time would come eventually. It doesn't make a difference. Hope always reigns, of course. But....what can I say? It's been a long up and down ride of hope and disappointment for our family.

Today's haiku is a very hard one for me to write. It's a wish for my sister, who I love so much and who has this pain I wish I could remove with my words or deeds, but I can't--ever. 

I wish to carry 

Your bag of heartache awhile

To give you a rest.

Haiku About Sadness

I feel like there are times in my life when the "bad stuff" piles on. Now is one of those times for us. Two days ago I was on the phone with my sister and said, "This week sucks. And it's only Tuesday." Monday we received bad news and on Tuesday we received some more bad news. And by "bad" I mean more than bad--I mean life-changing and not in an exciting, positive way. Yesterday was a day of processing for me. I would think about the "bad news" and then I would escape. Then, I would think some more. And then escape some more. No haiku writing yesterday, because my mind was too busy working out feelings. I'm being vague because I'm not ready to express here what our family is working through. But, I will be soon.

My haiku today is about living and doing and carrying on with a sadness that is profound and heavy.

Ev'rything's harder

and duller with this burden. 

Trudging through the day.

Haiku about Archery

Before Christmas, my middle one started archery lessons. I took him to the range and met his instructor. Well, the next thing I knew I was loading up a bow and firing away at a target. You see, I walked in thinking I would take off and do some errands and then pick him up and go home. "C'mon," the instructor said, " you do it along with him." I think it was so I would know some of the at-home exercises he should do. But, before I knew it, I was taking classes with my middle child. And guess what? As my youngest would say, "I luuuuuuuuve it!"

My son's first bulls-eye!

Today's lesson was excellent. I was taught a more advanced bow grip and it works great for me--much better than the beginner's. I'm not an advanced archer, not by any stretch of the imagination. It's just for a switch, as the instructor said. I got over the "target panic" I was experiencing last week. That is when an archer is afraid of getting hurt again by the bow. I was hurt in my lesson before and I got the 2nd worst bruise I ever had. But, today I didn't give it a thought. I also got a real feel for where my anchor is. That is where your finger touches your face as you are pulling back the bowstring. There was also a mind opening discussion with our instructor about hunting. I'm not sure if I would say I had an epiphany, but it truly got me thinking. All in all, a great lesson for me. My boy did pretty well, too.

Today's haiku is about archery, which I didn't plan on taking on, but am sure glad I did!

Check stance, load the bow.

String pulled back, eyes on target.

Release. Bam! Miss? Hit!

Haiku about My Birthday

(This was meant to be posted March 2, 2013).

It's my birthday. Waking up early, I had one of the best gifts waiting for me. Mother Nature gave me a bright, sunny day, with a gorgeous blue sky. Just what I wanted, but didn't realize it until I saw it. Next, I received another little present. My family was kind enough to sleep in, so I had about three hours of solitude and silence to do as I pleased. Losing myself in computerland was first. Next, I caught two episodes of a favorite show. And finally, I took a long, hot shower. My lovelies stirred and woke up one by one.

I announced I was off to the store,shopping for myself by myself. Before the store, I visited with my mother. We chatted for about half an hour and she hugged and kissed me and doted on me by making me coffee and offering me something to eat. And of course, she had to tell me the annual story of the extra-ordinary numbers of hours of excruciating labor my birth had caused her. You see, as she puts it, I "wanted to stay in and didn't want to come out." After that, I went to the store. Just a handful of little things were on my list, so I mostly "window shopped." It was nice to go and not rush. I ran into three of my favorite male people, my brother-in-law and two of my nephews. More birthday wishes and two and a half hours later, I return home happy. Talked with my family about my excursion and handed out a little birthday candy and new hoodies I bought them. I got some hugs, and they showed me the birthday cake they made me (chocolate, white frosting).
 
After relaxing a little it was out to dinner. The children were splendid in the restaurant, like always, and we had a very nice conversation. Subjects ranged from a Pokemon video game, to how cool it would be to have the grinder type of salt and pepper shakers at home, to how gross an olive burger sounds and the kids can't believe their aunt would eat one. Home again after  a fast trip to the video store, present opened (very nice), and it was decided the cake would hold off until tomorrow. 

Youngest went to bed after a nice warm shower, looking a tad bit suspicious. I think she had a fleeting vision of the rest of us devouring the birthday cake without her. (No chance, kid). The males and I sat around at our electronics for a while. I read them some of my haiku postings, and they shared their virtual adventures. Later, I watched a movie with my beloved, while the boys watched one upstairs. And my day is just about done--a great day and one of the best birthdays in a long time.

Artwork by my daughter

Today's haiku is about my birthday, a day full peace and family.

What a lovely day!

And mine to do as I wish.

My Happy Birthday.

Haiku about Being Startled

 (This was meant to be posted yesterday 3/1/13).
You know when you're busy, quietly working on something, and all of a sudden someone is right next to you, or perhaps someone silently walks in the room and says something, and you're so surprised you jump out of your skin? Perhaps you let out a little yelp? I remember a very good one my dad did to me. I was sitting at the table writing or something. And he was outside doing his thing with the yard. I don't remember any one else being around. Anyway, my dad must have sneaked up to the sliding glass door, which was open and right next to the table I was at. Of course, I didn't notice him, concentrating deeply on what I was doing. He saw his chance and he said in a loud, crisp voice, "Hi!" Oh! My reaction must have been priceless, because he was laughing about it hours later. Crazy dad. I love him. 

Well, years later, that has become a fun thing to do at our house. I think it might be because I'm a little above average at being susceptible to the startle and my reaction is. . .I don't know. . . amusing? The other day I did one of my favorite tasks, grocery shopping...(see my haiku to the grocery store and you will realize I say that with the sincerest sarcasm). . .I was unloading the countless bags of food. No one else was up to help, or so I thought. (Insert sinister music here). I was looking down at the bags and choosing a good combination of heavy and light bags to carry into the house, kind of thinking that this would have been easier without all the snow I have to trudge through. When I straightened up, there standing next to me all of a sudden was my middle child looking at me with a grin. I saw his mouth opening as if speaking, but all I could hear was my uber-loud scream that resonated throughout the neighborhood, echoing up and down our block. He held my arm and said, "Oh, man, I'm sorry," and then he laughed. And I laughed. And I noticed he was barefoot and shirtless, in the snow. Crazy kid. I love him. 

Here's a haiku about the startle that makes us jump and yelp, which is beginning to be a game at our house. 

Sneak. Sneak. Shhh. "Hey, I--"

"Ahhhhh! You scared me!" Sweet success.

Where's my next victim?

Haiku about a Busy Day

 Today I felt as if I spent most of my day in the car and driving people places. It started with driving the oldest to school, then taking the youngest to an appointment. After that, I drove her to school. I then returned home to pick up my husband and drove him to an appointment. Driving him to work was next. I drove home and ate something, followed by driving the middle child to a friend's house. I had an hour and a half at home before picking up my mom to take her to get a test done. While the test was being done, I drove to pick up my husband from work and then my daughter from the Boys & Girls Club. After dropping them off home, I returned to my mother and drove her home. My husband called me and told me my oldest was ready to be picked up from practice. So off I go to retrieve him. On the way home we pick up the middle kid and dinner. We returned home, ate, and off again with the oldest to an appointment. Finally, drove home and here I remain for the rest of the night.

The haiku for the day describes my day. I'm tuckered out!

Back and forth and back

North side, south side, east side, west

Drop off, pick up. Whew!

Haiku about My Glasses

(This was meant to be posted yesterday 2/27/13)

I've been wearing glasses since third grade. I remember going to the optometrist regularly. He was very nice, and I liked that he told me about the instruments he used and about how the eye worked. Throughout the years, my eyes worsened. I have extreme astigmatism and am virtually blind without them. I'm very grateful to live at this time in history. If I had been born a hundred years earlier, I would probably not be able to see well even with spectacles. 

Last night I woke up around  4 o'clock. I could not find my glasses. For about 30 minutes I searched for those darn things. I could not see very well at all and Roel could not help very much. But, he did move the bed back so we could check if they fell between the wall and the head of the bed. No luck there. I have a pile of clothes next to the bed (yes, I can be a slob), and went through that to see if they fell on it. I picked up every piece of clothing and shook each out. No luck there either. We shook out the bed covers. Nothing. Roel searched around his side of the bed. Still no glasses. The thing that was so frustrating was that I was compelled to reach for my glasses every few minutes to look for my glasses! My eyes are so bad. It was very late and I was tired. I broke down a couple of times and started crying. My husband was so patient. We went through all the spots again and still didn't find the glasses. I was sweating so much that I said I stunk like our son when he didn't wear deodorant. I was miserable and I broke down again. I started being mad at myself and called myself stupid. And as I was about to start a full on pity party, I reached between the bed and a box and there they were hidden, laughing at me. "I found them," I said. "Good," said my beloved. And I went to take a shower

Tonight I write this haiku dedicated to my glasses, which have been a part of me since I was eight. 

My frame and lenses

Perched upon my nose all day.

Lose them, I'm useless.

Haiku to Johnny Cash

I sold a book on Ebay a while back. It was the best sell I ever did. It was a first edition of I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash I bought at a garage sale about a year earlier for a quarter.  I threw it up on Ebay in the middle of all the hype of the movie with Joaquin Phoenix. I thought, "Let's see what happens." And lo and behold I sold it for almost $80! 

I like Johnny Cash, not because he gave me about a 300% profit on Ebay. I really like his music. I think it's real, heart-felt. I like his voice. His wife wrote Ring of Fire, about her attraction to him and it became one of his most popular songs. Folsom Prison Blues has one of the darkest lines ever. I Walk the Line is a true love song. He sang a song written by Shel Silverstein called A Boy Named Sue. And then there's the one that is probably my favorite Hurt, a cover of an industrial band's song. 

Today's haiku is to Johnny Cash, whose birthday is today.

Man in Black singing

Nine Inch Nails. You made me cry.

All that emotion.

Haiku to My Aunt

One of the hardest times in my life was the final days of watching and waiting while my father died from kidney cancer. He died at home. We took care of him--my mother, my sisters, my grandma, my aunt and myself. We were together 24/7 tending to my father's physical needs. My sisters and I grew closer to our grandmother and aunt during these days. We did not know them very well. For some reason, extended family was not a big part of my childhood, and we visited rarely. If one good thing came out of my father's illness and subsequent death, it was that I came to know these strong, compassionate, resilient  women I was related to--my father's mother and sister.

It's been over 14 years, and my grandma has since passed. My aunt and I have kept in touch. Through facebook, we are sharing our lives with each other. I love that. We can laugh and celebrate and cry with each other with the help of technology. We have visited each other's homes, but not as often as we wish we could. She is an important part of our lives. I hope she realizes how special she has become to me over the years. She is my aunt, a tie to my father, a friend, and overall, a pretty terrific person.

Today's haiku is dedicated to my aunt, whose birthday is today, who I miss seeing, and I'm so happy we came to know each other, even if it was through sadness and grief.

We need to visit

And have dinner, and talk,

And laugh, face to face.

Haiku about Family Strength

All of us were running on fumes this afternoon. Oldest spent the night at a friend's house, and fell asleep around 3:00 in the morning. Middle also spent the night at some friends' house and fell asleep around five in the morning. Youngest stayed up at Grandma's until 12:00 midnight! Husband and I stayed up visiting with a friend. I didn't sleep until after 2:30. He fell asleep way after me. Needless to say, by 6:00 tonight during dinner, we were walking zombies, some of us more than others. 

What I noticed was that there were no conflicts, no sudden mood swings, no whining, no tears, no arguing. I have to admit, six months ago, there would have been conflict, mood swings, whining and more. Our children have come a long way in using self-control when they aren't feeling 100%, in admitting the fun they had came with the cost of lack of good sleep, and in taking care of themselves when they are tired.  We had a very pleasant dinner and evening. 

 Tonight, I am so grateful that we have all worked very hard in dealing with the past trauma our children brought with them. I am grateful for the strength we have all found in ourselves to heal and to help heal. Today's haiku is in celebration to the growth our family has made.

The past we address.

Together, we learn from it .

Healing. Blossoming,

Haiku for Missing a Daily Haiku (3)

My apologies.

No daily post and haiku

By me yesterday.

Haiku for Missing a Daily Haiku (2)

Woke up this morning and realized I didn't write anything yesterday! My goal is to write a haiku a day. I am realistic when I say that I won't be able to make it every single day. But, I try my best. At the very least I will have 365 by the end of the year--making up the days I miss as soon as possible, even if it means creating two in a day now and again. So here's mine for missing out yesterday:

No post yesterday.

I enjoyed the day so much,

I simply forgot

Haiku about Family Dinner

I remember  back in my childhood, one of the things that we could count on is that dinner is around 5:30 and everyone eats together. I do not remember conversations in detail, but I remember having them. The food was in bowls or platters and we would pass them around. My dad would put tons of salt and pepper on his food. Us kids would try really hard not to make eating noises loud enough for my dad to hear, because he would get irritated. (I think I have the same problem. Look it up. It's called misophonia.) When we were finished, we would announce we were done and say "Thanks to God." And then we would kiss our mom thanks for the food.

At our house, with our kids, dinnertime is a little different. My husband and I try to have dinner with everyone as much as possible. We average about 4 or  5 times a week. Not nearly as often as in my childhood home. We have conversation. Like tonight we each told about something new in our life. These things were new: a back isn't hurting as much, two friends were convinced to join wrestling next year, a bedroom was streamlined by me, there are two cats out there at friends' homes that are as big as Katrina now (apparently a kitten has grown tremendously), and there was a refrigerator seen that would be awesome to have in our kitchen. We don't have bowls and platters; I pile on the food from the stove and the boys deliver the plates to the table. Yes, the eating noises bug me, but I don't think the kids are afraid to make them. I try to be polite and calm about it. Nobody kisses me thank you. Every once in a while I get a verbal thank you--but it's usually when I order pizza. 

Today let me present a haiku that is about family dinners. I love them, as long as everyone is getting along

Please pass the meatloaf.

Tell us what is new with you?

Hold on, I love fries.

 

Haiku about Frustration

Frustration: a feeling of dissatisfaction, often accompanied by anxiety or depression, resulting from unfulfilled needs or unresolved problems. Frustration comes in all sorts of shapes and sizes. The frustration of not being able to give your child what he or she needs. The frustration of being in a hurry and hitting every red light. The frustration of not remembering the name of that actor that plays Sam in Lord of the Rings. The frustration of spending over an hour at the grocery store, loading and unloading, to find out you need to return for a thing you forgot. The frustration of having to tell your kid every night to throw out the trash, even though he knows it's his responsibility. The frustration of sitting down to watch the show you've been looking forward to, and then find out it was an hour earlier. 

Today I had a situation that was so frustrating, I was in tears. I bought a contraption at Menards, put it together at home, and started using it. Then the handle came apart, and I could not put it back together. No matter what I did, I couldn't. It just wouldn't! I'm usually pretty good with these sort of thing, but this simple thing wasn't going to be nice. I felt like throwing it across the room. I felt like smashing it to smithereens. I felt like cussing bad, but I don't use the cuss word that I really wanted to say. I just sat and whined and then cried. After a few minutes, I sighed and said, "Okay, you win." Aaargh! 

So, I wrote a new haiku to commemorate my not too stellar moment this afternoon. 

To be read with clenched teeth.

What the..? What the heck?

Why? Why can't I. Just. Do. This?

This stupid piece of. . .

Haiku about a Brighter, Shinier Me

My major in college was Special Education: Emotionally Impaired. It required  many psychology classes. Psych 101, Abnormal Psychology, Personality and something I don't remember, Educational Psychology, Behavior Disorders, Group Dynamics, Child Development and more. I enjoyed studying psychology very much. I enjoyed learning about what makes us tick. Why do we do what we do? During one time in my life, I considered pursuing a degree in psychology, but it never happened.  And I'm alright with that. 

Today I read a little on Carl Roger's theory of self-actualizing, having our self-image match our ideal self. He says our only motive is to reach the point where how we see ourselves matches what we want our selves to be, which is to self-actualize. Where am I in self-actualizing?  I think my self-image and ideal self are overlapped some. And I want to work on the parts that are not. It's as if there is this other person inside me. One that is like me now, but brighter and shinier.

I've an inner self.

I wish she'd emerge fully,

'cause she's pretty cool.

Haiku about Excrutiating Boredom

Today my husband has to do something that has become extremely non stimulating  to him. He sees the end of this gig coming and let's just say he's "over it." And it's going to take a big chunk of time.Simply put he doesn't want to go.  And he has to do it again several more times. We've all been there. YUK! His lamenting of this chore reminded me of times when I have felt the same. Because of my husband's vision, I drove him to township board meetings he had to report on for the paper. Most of these townships were rural and  could be far away so I wouldn't go home. Instead I sat through these things with my husband. And I hated going to them. And I would dread it all day long.

These meetings were very close to the end of me. I would truly be in tears at the thought of going. I would bring a book or a puzzle book to keep myself entertained. But, that only lasted for an hour, if I'm lucky, with my ADD. I would have to move on to something else. So, I'd try listening to the board persons, but they would repeat themselves, and I would become a "bored" person, too. And sometimes the ultimate horror would occur, and they would go into a closed meeting to discuss an issue privately. We would have to wait for their decision.  And 4 times out of 5, it took them a half hour to realize they needed to gather more information, so the decision is postponed. I will never forget those torture devises they called metal folding chairs we had to sit on. Oh, my poor back. I would have to get up and take little walks. I walked around the foyer, looking at the little brochures about a water system, or I'd look at the pictures the secretary had on her desk of her grandkids (always cute). Or if I was really lucky they would have a map on the wall and I could look at that for about 10 minutes--the grids are pretty basic and the street names are so creatively named, like 64th Avenue or 126th Street. Yeah, there were bathrooms. But, there was just so much you can do in them, so I would spend time lathering up the soap and blowing bubbles through the ring I formed with my index finger and thumb. I tell you there were times when these meetings would end up lasting up to three, even four, hours! And they were SO boring and their meeting halls were boring and their bathrooms were boring.  I hated them. I shudder at the thought of them. And I rejoice that I don't have to go again. Oh, thank you, thank you, I don't have to sit through not even one ever again!!

Let me present my haiku that represents my pain during these meetings. Although they are hard to revisit, I find immense pleasure in knowing that they are a thing of my past--the same pleasure I have knowing my gall bladder pain is gone forever since it's been removed. 

Sitting for an hour.

They're only on item three?

Eight more!! (Silent scream).

Haiku for Understanding

As I mentioned before, my children are adopted from the foster care system here in Michigan. They were removed from a dangerous situation and placed in foster care. More than two years later they were up for adoption. Another year and a half and my husband and I find them.  It's a hard way to start out. They have come a long way from the first time we met. And their futures are brighter. 

Today I heard an adoptive mother talk about her journey with her daughter. She presented several issues I can relate to with our children. On one of the handouts was a sentence that spoke to me. It read "Fear will bully your child into poor behavior." This is very timely for me. Our daughter is going through a time that scares her, and, yes, poor behaviors have upped. Her best friends, and unfortunately, only friends in the neighborhood moved far away today. She's afraid she will never have anyone to play with. She's afraid the girls will forget her. She's afraid of feeling lonely. In a way, she is reliving her earlier abandonment, which frightens her.

Today I write a haiku that asks for patience and understanding, especially when dealing with trying behaviors that stem from a little girl's fear. 

Try to ease the fears

She's scared. He's afraid. Distressed.

Be their safe haven.

Haiku about a Disappearance

Many things happened today that I could choose as a subject for my writing.  My siblings and I met at a restaurant with our families and celebrated our mom's birthday. My daughter is in the process of saying good-bye to her best friends, two sisters who are moving to Florida. I drove in virtual white-out conditions to do an errand and was almost in an accident not once, but twice. My oldest made some awesome white chocolate covered strawberries. My husband is feeling overwhelmed with work. My two boys are getting along very well. (I hope I didn't just jinxed it). My niece and I talked about cute cats. My asthma is acting up. Lots of stuff. 

 

The one thing that has been on my mind this evening is some news my brother told me at the restaurant. He told me that the missing man whose story I had been following in the news was a boy I knew. I had not realized I knew him. This man dropped his son off at the college in town, visited his mother and drove back to his home about an hour and a half away. He never showed up home. He disappeared. His car was found far away in Missouri. It's a mystery. And it gives me a sad feeling that something bad could have happened to the boy. It scares me, too. Yes, this is heavy on my mind. 

Today's haiku tells my reaction to this news. I'm surprised at how scared I am about it.

To disappear (Poof!)

 Shocked. Frightened. Vulnerable

Could happen to me. 

Haiku about Not Taking Myself too Seriously

Sometimes I crack myself up. I can be totally in dimwitland and then wake up and find myself in laughable situations. I was doing some heavy duty grocery shopping years ago. I must have spent an hour filling up that cart. I got to my car and opened the trunk. When I reached down to grab the food, I said to myself "Something's not right." That's when I "woke up" and noticed the food was not in bags. I had pushed the cart right out the store, bypassing the checkout! I laughed all the way back in. Nobody noticed me leaving with the cart full of food, or returning with a cart full of food. How did I do that? I don't know, and I don't care.That was funny! 

I always thought that was my best dimwit moment. Today I had an incident that came pretty close to beating it. I was with one of our boys, driving him to a friend's house and conversing pretty well. We stopped at a gas station. We bought a couple of drinks and he bought some candy.  I paid for $30 worth of gas. On our way to his friend's house we continued our conversation, when I thought, "Let me see how far the gas gauge moved." I looked at the gauge, and thought "Something's not right." That's when I "woke up" and noticed the needle was still on the E. I had left the station without pumping! We hurried back and a man was looking at our pump with a confused look. I explained my situation to him and he said since I paid for his gas, he will pay for mine and gave me $30. (Very nice guy, and saw the humor in it all). How did I do that? I don't know and I don't care. And since it all turned out fine, I can say that was funny!

Today's haiku is in honor of all my humorous dimwit moments, and Lord knows there are a few. 

Oops. Oh my goodness!

Better to laugh at myself

Than call myself names.

Haiku about Valentine's Day

Call me a party-pooper, but I'm not into Valentine's Day. Never have been. Well, yeah when I was in elementary school, it was fun to share the valentines with the class. But, after that it was not an important day. Of course, I never had a serious "valentine" until my twenties. And even then, it wasn't all that. Now that I think about it, I just remembered that my ex-husband told me on Valentine's Day that he wanted to be my ex-husband. But, that is not why I'm not into Valentine's Day.  I hadn't been into it before and I haven't been into it after. Just haven't. 

Nowadays, I buy each of my kids a special heart-shaped candy, wish them a Happy Valentine's Day, tell them they're my valentines and hand the candy over to them. Then they gobble it down. My husband and I don't do very much, if anything. My husband says, "Why do I have to give you flowers or candy on this day? Just because a card company tells me to?" He's a rebel. I'm glad we agree about this day.  We would rather spend our money on...I don't know...a new washer and dryer?

So, sorry Valentine's Day fans, my haiku today is anti-Valentines Day, because  it's just a whole lot more fun to write than a lovey-dovey one.

It's Valentine's Day!

A day when Halmark tells us

"Ha ha, ya suckers!"

Haiku for My Mother (1)

 Mom came from extreme poverty in Panama. I believe she was the seventh child of nine. And from what I understand, the dirt-floor home she grew up in was pretty much in the middle of the hilly jungle countryside. She told us a few stories of her early years. Some stories were scary, like when she was washing clothes in the river and looked across and saw a black jaguar looking at her. Some stories were sad, like when she helped a woman wash the body of that woman's small child. Mom told us some funny stories, too. There were times that she walked to school through the forest and there would be a monkey that threw stuff at her and her siblings. I'm not sure what it threw at her, but I remember finding that story amusing. 

 

Today is Mom's birthday, and after I visited with her and gave her a gift, I drove home thinking of her birthday and wondered what her birthdays were when she was a child. I never did get very many details of Mom's childhood. But, from what I gather, overall, Mom had a rough one. I'm pretty sure she did not get all the attention and love she needed. I know she had to fix her own hair at a very young age because her mother would not. She slept on the floor on a mat and she probably didn't have many toys, nor nice clothes. Mom did not go to school much--she perhaps had a 3rd grade education. Her family needed the extra help she could give on the little bit of farm land my grandfather had. (He eventually lost all the land to a swindler). I'm pretty sure she saw things a child shouldn't ever see. Mom has come a long way from that dirt-floor hut she grew up in. I wonder if the little-girl-Mom dreamed her life could change so much. 

Today's haiku is written for the little girl who grew up to be my mom. I wish I could have told her this.

One day you will find

Comfort, safety and much love,

Be strong, persevere.

Haiku about Katrina Our Cat (1)

Our cat Katrina has a reputation that precedes her. She is known as a "mean" cat. But, actually she isn't "mean." She's more of a "I'm not taking any of your crap" kind of girl. If she doesn't like how you're looking at her, she will hiss at you, saying, "Hey, take a picture, it'll last longer." (Which we have, many, many times). If she thinks that you're walking past her too many times, she'll swipe your leg with her paw, as if saying "Enough with the pacing, give a girl some peace." If she doesn't like how you're ignoring her when she sits staring at you while you're eating ice cream, she will yell at you, saying "Hand it over, you selfish SoB." You get the idea. She just won't take your crap. It's her way, or the highway. 

Today, she watches me to see if I go to the kitchen. And when I do, she follows me, then zooms ahead of me toward her full food dish, looks back and meows at me. She wants me to replace the three pieces of kibble she ate an hour ago. "Replace them now, I say!" she demands. I ignore her. This is repeated again and again throughout the day. Well, I know when I have to spend more time in the kitchen later, she will follow me and watch me and start to yell at me. 

So, today my haiku is an interpretation of Katrina's vocals as she exerts her will.

I will torture you

with countless constant meows 

'til  you obey me.

Haiku to My Children (1)

Both my husband and I performed pretty well in school and we continued our education into college after high school. We went the traditional route. There's this semi-panicky thought that use to run through my head, the one that tells me I don't have much time to get them to 18, when they will leave for college and have a bright careers and happy futures. The flaws in this way of thinking we learned very quickly. 1) Our children are not us. What was best for us, may not be best for them. 2) Our children need time to heal and grow. It may be necessary for their stay under our roof to be extended longer than the traditional child. 3) Doing well in high school is not always necessary to be successful and happy in the future. Neither is college. However, training and developing skills are necessary to make a livelihood. 4) Our children's futures are theirs. Their choices are theirs. Their consequences (good and bad) are theirs to learn from. And 5) 18 is not a magical age full of "shoulds" and "have to's".

 This morning as we were getting ready for school, I had to remind myself of these truths as my oldest child, a junior in high school, hands me a crumpled up application to the career/vocational center and informs me that I should fill it out for him by Friday. And then he proceeds to push his school-issued i-pad into a book bag overstuffed with school papers, from September I'm sure, food wrappers and empty drink bottles, and gym clothes (stinky, I can smell them).  I notice he is wearing his pajama bottoms under his sweats, as I remind him he needs to eat breakfast. "Oh, yeah," he mumbles.  I shake my head and have to smile a little as I think about how this man-child will be considered legally an adult in a short year and a half.

Today's haiku is a little advice to my children, who will have bright and happy futures, no matter which road they choose to get there. 

 Someone smart once said

To predict a great future

You must create it.

Haiku about Missing a Daily Haiku (1)

Yesterday I  was completely out of it and couldn't construct a haiku for the day. I feel like I should make up for it today. This is why I was out of it:

My allergies struck

Spent a day in la-la land

Thanks to medicine.

Haiku about Walking Dead (1)

 I'm very familiar with names like Freddy Kruger, Leatherface, Michael Myer, Jason, Pinhead, Damien, Jigsaw and if I had time I could think of a few more. Yes, I am a horror genre fan. I love scary movies. Not only that I love scary books. In fact, my husband and I met on a Stephen King message board many years ago. And I like tv shows that can be scary, like the CSIs, Criminal Minds, Supernatural, and American Horror Story. I love, love, love it.

My husband is a big fan as well, and we are discovering that our middle kid is one as well. So, it wouldn't surprise anyone when I say that one thing that has been on our minds this weekend is the return of The Walking Dead. If you haven't heard of this show, well I guess you haven't read much of my facebook statuses. The Walking Dead is a show many may describe as gory with people-eating zombies, and zombie-killing heroes. But, The Walking Dead is not just about scary zombies. It is a story of a group of people trying to survive the zombie apocalypse--as a group and as individuals. It is a story about how a group and individuals change living in this world where you "fight the dead and fear the living." My husband, middle kid and I love the show.  So, the three of us have been waiting for its return since December 2nd. We are very excited, to say the very least.  

Today's haiku is  dedicated to The Walking Dead, whose characters have become our friends, and we can't wait to pick up where their story left us. 

Where can you find us

Tomorrow night at nine sharp?

Glued to our tv.

Haiku to Husband (1)

My husband, among other things, is an English instructor at a community college. It's been about four years. He has three classes of approximately 25 students each. My husband enjoys his job teaching very much, spending time with students. He loves writing and loves talking and explaining the art of writing. And that is a very good thing when you are a teacher. 

The remarkable thing about my beloved and his success with teaching writing and all the nitty-gritty paperwork that goes with it is that he is doing this legally blind. A quick and easy way to explain his blindness is that he has obstacles in the middle of his field of vision and somehow he has to look around them. He can see. It's just that his vision is blocked by these blob-like forms. So, here is this guy reading 75 2-page journals a week and 300 3-5 page essays a semester. He constructs 2 quizzes a week, along with making 2 sets of lesson plans, going over the assigned readings for each class, and writing 3 notes each week to the students about what is due and what readings to read. And.....he's legally blind! Pretty impressive, don't you think?

So, today I'm finally writing a haiku for my husband, who works very hard on his craft and, works even harder trying to teach it. 

Bent over your desk,

Pouring over student's words--

Fruits of your labor

Haiku about Talking about Birds & Bees

About a week ago, my daughter asked "Dawn, how are babies made anyway?" I told her something about the mom and the dad get together and make the baby. "Oh, okay," and she bounces out the room. Next day's question: "Dawn, how do the mom and the dad make the baby anyway?" I answered that we would sit down later and talk about it. I explained we needed time because it's kinda complicated. And then I said, "Let's go to the bookstore!" I was going to need visuals and a guide. And we did, and she picked out three biographies and I picked out a great guide for 'our talk.'

Off and on now for a week or so my daughter and I discussed the differences in male and female anatomies, about sperm and eggs, and a lot about puberty and the process of ovulation. And we're only a fraction of the way through the book. It's slow moving with all her questions. I'm giving her time to process each lesson, and sure enough she comes back the next day with more questions. She is not embarrassed to ask, she speaks freely with no hesitation. And she is using the new words she learned. I'm enjoying our discussions and seeing her mind working.  It's a very bonding experience for us.

Today I write a haiku about teaching my little one about the birds and the bees, both of us wrapped up in our blankets sitting on the sofa and feeling cozy.

Feels so natural

Answering all her questions

About growing up.