Vicarious Rocky

He had two full days last week and now he's onto the first full week. Thus far, all is well. He has a little buddy that's super sweet and awesome. He told me Friday he made friends with a little girl and that they talked "like adults," whatever that means. He also is making friends with someone he calls, "camp kid." I guess that kid was at summer camp with him. Language therapy should start next week. Today he ordered Asian Bar for lunch. That'll be a shock. Overall, I'm pleased as punch. Now, time to wait for the all the Fall evaluations to come so I can begin worrying properly.

Here are some pictures from two recent summer outings -- the Glendale cemetery in Akron and hiking at Hinckley Ledges.

"I want to take my skin off," says Indy last night. "What's under here?" Kid seems a little possessed at the moment with the topic of body construction and doctors. Kind of goes along with the Tim Burton movie fixation for sure and the love of Halloween.

In answer to the "tell me about doctors" dinner question, asked nightly, Sage this time whipped out the computer and showed him the Body Worlds exhibit that's been going around Science Museums. He was so sincere and sounded awe inspired when he said to Sage, "Thank you for showing me this."

Of course Sage is like a mad man with the Doctor encouragement. Also last night he gave a shout out to PhDs and specifically Dr. Coventry, Holly's boyfriend. It went like this:

"Some Doctors don't see patients. They don't bother to help one person at a time . . . Noooo. That's too slow. Holly's boyfriend, Alex, remember him? He works all day on his computer and helps thousands of people."

Indy's eyes got huge, "A doctor that works on computers!?!" There it was -- his two obsessions, coming together in one gorgeous package.

I met a woman today that had her life completely under control. She had created her own hierarchy chart of Decision Making Values. It went - God, Marriage, Family, Career, Extended Family, Friends. I thought Sage and I were zealots to revisit goals every September. She actually schedules the entire year for her whole family in September. Her 4-yr-old son is on top of life too and is taking violin and phonics lessons.

I am impressed by her, but I can't be like her and don't want to be. My value chart looks different. For starters, it's not a chart. That's my first problem. :) I think of Indy when I meet people like this at school because their children will be his peers in life.

Sage and I like to joke over his head, saying things like, "Tomorrow's elite leaders . . ." and then we finish the sentence with adorable 4-yr-old stuff like "finish their pudding!" or "pull up their own pants!" I think for some there is no joke there. I guess you indoctrinate your children to your own values (in my case in spite of myself) and just hope for the best.

When my kid drives the fire truck to this kid's million dollar house when grandma leaves a pan on the stove, I'll be very proud of him. :)

Sage: Is this new stove easy to clean?
Rocky: That's a great question. Let's ask the cleaning people.

We all have that one picture . . . that makes us look fabulous, but actually looks nothing like you. I find that 75% of performing arts bio pics are like this and when the person steps onstage you’re like, “WTF, is that this woman here in the black and white wearing the turtle neck?!”

Anyway, social networking has taken this phenomenon to the next level and made everyone’s vanity and misrepresentation embarrassingly public. There is this young girl in my Facebook friend list that looked so amazing and so different from when I knew her; I thought she must have undergone some kind of magical transformation. Then I visited more recent pictures from a trip and there she was, same old gal.

Am I judging her? Of course I am! Do I do it too? Of course I do. I do it even more prolifically – Linked In, the SageRock Blog, my Live Journal Profile Pic, my Video Phone thumbnail are all this pretend me picture.



Here is real me.


Admit it, whose status updates are you more interested in? I have no point here accept to show off my nice profile picture. Hah! See, I did it again. ;)

P.S.: How do people internet date? Do you just insist on 10 full body pictures before the initial meetup?

I bought a backpack
I bought the school supplies
The class tortoise is still alive
Indy is almost consistently shitting in the toilet
He learned to write his name
He has a friend in class
He seems willing to go back

Ahhh, time to sit back and watch the unexpected challenges smack into me.

Now, I just need to do that for about 6 more months and I'll be in shape.

We were at the fair recently and so I have confirmation of a past phenomenon still occurring -- the weight mismatched couple. You've seen them. Rail thin guy and his obese woman. It's always comical to me because I can hear Earl in my head making lewd jokes about her smothering him. Anyway, Sage is off running every morning to train for the Chicago Marathon, and now he's spouting off about how he may be biologically built for a 50-mile desert run. This means I (it's about ME of course) have a new-found problem. Runners eat carbs, and I am the pasta princess. I was crowned in the late 70s over a bowl of steaming spaghetti marinara (in case you missed the ceremony).

He is already eating so much food. I love to cook and I am joyfully cooking lovely, starchy things for him. And eating them. I am only about 3 lbs up from last year this time. But he is only training to run a regular marathon right now and hasn't officially declared himself an iron man.

I have two options moving forward: Eat WAY less of all this food I am cooking. Or become an iron woman so I can imbibe. This week I have plans to bake chocolate muffins, apple cobbler, and several delicious pasta and rice sides to go with salmon and chicken. I have bought fresh french bread, new olive oil . . .

Yeah, you can find me at the gym tomorrow afternoon. I am going to have to hope I have discipline to work out, because I don't have the discipline to deny myself food.

So with the debate on national health care raging, I wanted to weigh in anecdotal-ly with a completely un-thought-out rambling about my Mammogram this morning. The place I got this done was a spa. No joke. Water fountain in the lobby, wood-lined changing rooms, new age music, robes, two beautiful waiting rooms (one for the robed and the other for the clothed). It was nothing short of extravagant. I am sure 70% of us were there in the name of preventative medicine.

The doctor endorsed said visit promising to save money for all in the long run because a young boob "baseline" promises 5 year visits from here until death with less invasive intervention because of being able to accurately track variations. So, perhaps my spa visit is saving everyone money? Hard to track, eh?

Then again, there is undoubtedly something wrong with a system that lets me, a wealthy white girl with no history of breast cancer, no breast issues currently, and 35 years young, waltz into this place and get a $15 mammogram because I have $350/month insurance paid by my (ehhemm) employer. Unjust in this town for sure where I daily watch people that can barely walk, hobble back to their apartments from Wallgreens where they get their groceries. Sadly they buy groceies for twice as much because they have to buy them in one bag increments . . . because they don't have cars and can't lug cheaper groceries bought in larger quantities from the bus stop . . . because they can't walk. You get the idea.

Clearly, if I cared about anyone besides myself I'd start a charity that offers people rides to Aldis. But I barely care about anything beyond my next dessert, and so I am just taking 5 minutes to point out that even I can see something is a bit skewed here. Now, somebody fix it.

Now that summer is finally here, I'd like to lay down the law about something very important. I believe that 90 degrees is the temperature where it is permissible for a man, out in public, to remove his shirt. But there are some ground rules:

1. You must have your shirt in your possession. Don't leave your house without a shirt. That's just creepy.
2. You must be exerting yourself in some manner - Walking, painting a fence, running. Eating a burrito does not count.
3. You must be within your weight range. This is important. No exceptions.

Thank You.

Indy has figured out that Sage is the Bees Knees. And upon learning that Dad was leaving for a week, he attached himself to his hip for 24 hours. I said goodbye to Sage before running errands this morning and missed the official suitcase carrying goodbye that Indy experienced. Indy greeted me when I came back later today and said, "I bet you're going to really miss Daddy."

I said I would really miss him, and he looked at the floor and said, "Me too. I really love Daddy."

Life that is. Things have been mighty exciting around here, and I am making it my mission to achieve the chill we Lewis' need to start Fall with our wits intact.

The transitions are starting to resolve or at least fade back as the daily grind pushes forward. Holly is all moved in with Alex. Jamie led a successful revolution and now has his job reinstated. And Sage is kicking marathon ass and enthusiastically tackling new roles at work.

And me? I am settling into my new life as a housewife. A life that, strangely, is filled with many to dos. The difference is that now everything on my "to do" list is pleasant. Or at least un-stressful. And right now that is all I want.

I love it!

The self loathing is ever present but on the wane. Seems to me that life for so many people right now is about struggle and transition. What's up with that? Is it just a generational thing? As in, I know people approaching 40 and they all seem to have life-shift things going on? Or is it a public mood, a collective, sub-conscious mindset, brought on by what? The economy? The lull of summer? H1N1?

I am probably just projecting my own situation on everyone I know. Because money, summer, and sickness seem to be defining my own life.

Money - This is actually not about personal financial stuff, but about work, which is influenced by the economy. Work has been stressful. And I have been mentally unable to do anything stressful without falling apart. So, instead of working on handling stress better (a hallmark of the past 15 years with this problem), I am instead eliminating the stress for a while. AKA: quitting work. Shocking, eh? I have huge amounts of guilt and self loathing about it. More on that later perhaps.

Summer - Lovely to "relax" away from the demands of work and school scheduling. (I know, he's in preschool, but it is part of a K-8 school and they indoctrinate early). When we get away from regular life, it's awesome. When we get back, our steaming pile of life is there waiting. There has been less of this in the past summers. So the tension seems to be following us around a bit. Me not at work both relaxes and stresses Sage more. Especially when we're . . .

Sick -- WTF? We've had a real rash of illness around here. I swear if we haven't had the swine flu yet, I'll be pissed because we've seemed to have everything else that might seem related. Colds, Sinus infections, Bronchitis, what next? And it takes us all down for at least a full week.

OK, enough cheerful updating. I am still grateful for everything I have. And I have SO much. Just need to focus on it more. But this summer has me strangely looking forward to fall.