Doesn't Feel Like a Year...

Just wanted to take a moment to remember my Papa. It was one year ago, today, that he passed. He made so many things possible for my family this year, and I just wanted to say thank you.

He never got to meet Grey Matthew, which makes me sad.

BUT...I know in my heart that he really DID get to meet Grey Matthew. I will tell stories to Grey to let him know how wonderful his "Grandpa the Great" was as often as I remember.

There is also a cool breeze blowing outside right now that distinctly reminds me of my other Grandpa, Tom. There's something about the promise of fall (most likely, the oncoming football season) that puts a little bit of nostalgia, appreciation, love, respect and that ol' Cowboy pride in my heart. I could really use a Hershey's Kiss right now. And a "fish and van." And a hug.

I miss both of my grandpas more than I can describe.

Why can't Grandpas stick around a little longer?

All of my love to both of you amazing men. You made my family stronger. You've put a whole lot of yourselves into who I am today, whether you know it or not, and I will always, ALWAYS remember that.

Love to all "Grandpas," "Poppys" "Grandpa Bobs," "Granddads," and especially "Papas" today.

:)

P.S.

I also learned today that if you pretend like you didn't know that you couldn't take your baby into the liquor store (while your husband is on a business trip to Chicago), that they just let you take your baby into the liquor store if you, and I quote, "hurry."

Ahh...cold, cold wine. :)

Lifting the Vail

Yes, I know "veil" is spelled wrong. Just read the damn blog.

Two days ago, I returned from Vail, Colorado. It was absolutely beautiful. One day the high temperature was 53 degrees. I was in heaven. But, something was wrong...

Mostly Unimportant (yet, kind of important) Stuff:

Grey did so well. Out of 4 days, he probably had 10 total minutes of complete "freakout." One instance was because he really didn't appreciate the fact that we didn't have a plan and just leisurely decided to drive for longer than he (and we) had anticipated. The other moment was the first 5 minutes of the plane ride home. He screamed his head off, and we became the parents with "that baby," which brings me to this question-y statement:

Um, hey people that give bad looks or roll their eyes or are complete and total assholes to people with crying babies on planes?

You might want to go f*&$ yourselves. Do you truly believe that I have some special way of making my baby NOT cry, and I've decided to not utilize this gift just to annoy the hell out of everyone on the plane? Do you think that maybe my insides and nervous system have completely freaked out as much as or actually MORE than yours, as well? Or, maybe you think that babies aren't supposed to cry when they've never been 30,000 feet in the air, trapped on my lap, ears popping, tired as hell, etc.?

Yeeeeaaahhh, so...if you'd like to be an actual HUMAN BEING and maybe give a knowing nod, ask if there's anything you could do to help (there's not, but that would be nice), or just say, "I'm so sorry. It's so hard, isn't it?" Well...that would be great. Who ARE these people, by the way? People that hate babies/children are completely sad. They're just really sad people. Sorry to ruin your first 5 minutes on the plane, Sad People. I guess I'm never supposed to go on trips or let my child experience anything. I'd like to say, "I hope someone rolls their eyes at how stupid you are someday." But, that's not my style. I hope people are extremely nice to you in the future, Sad People. Maybe it will rub off a little, and you'll see how wonderful life can be.

Anyway. He cried for 5 minutes. It felt like hours. He then slept for the rest of the hour and a half trip. That's my Greybie Baby.

(Thank you to the wonderfully kind man in his early 50's who, upon landing, approached Beau and me and said, "He did so well." I responded, exhausted, "Yeah...I guess." And, then he said, "NO. He did REALLY well." And then he smiled. That man was an angel for one tired family.

There are people in Vail that have nannies. Lots of them. That's how they get to go do fun stuff at night. We do not have a nanny. We will never have a nanny. That is why we were stuck in our suite at Beaver Creek Lodge every night at 6:30pm. It would have been nice to have a glass of wine together at some point. Or dinner. Or just any time alone, really. But, you know what? I wouldn't trade anything for the look on Grey's face when he rolled around on the faux bearskin blanket. Or his first swing ride. Or even just traveling on the trams at the Denver airport. At one point, I texted my mom and said, "So...when babies go to sleep at night, you don't take them out, right? You just let them sleep and you have to stay in your room?" She said, "Yep. Don't want to wake a tired boy when he's down for the count."

I responded, "Being a parent is really hard."

Her response, "Yep. It sure is, sweetie. So, so hard."

Stuff That's Really Important:

Believe it or not, I hadn't been to Colorado in 9 years. That's so strange to even type. I have no idea why I hadn't been back in so long. I loved it the first time. Quick synopsis of first trip:

First husband and I decide to take a trip to Vail a month before our wedding. We (pretty randomly) decide to get a marriage license in Colorado. We drive to Rocky Mountain National Park and get married on top of a mountain. (You don't have to have a minister or official in Colorado.) We have "fake" wedding a month later with friends and family. I was 22.

Some months ago, Beau decided we should go to Beaver Creek. It is about a mile west of Vail. It's breathtakingly beautiful. Nan and Granddad had gone several times over the past couple years, and so we just decided this would be a great first family trip. Beau had also never been to this part of Colorado, and I was trying to describe how wonderful the trip west on I-70 from Denver to Vail is. He got to see for himself.

Our rental car had satellite radio in it, and we set it on "Coffeehouse," an acoustic station that usually has pretty good music on it. Not too loud for Grey. No kids' songs to drive us insane. As we got closer and closer to Vail, I started to feel uneasy. I couldn't put my finger on what was wrong with me.

Old David Gray songs kept coming on Coffeehouse. Then a cover of "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay." When Martin Sexton played next, I let out a silent, "You've got to be effing kidding me," in my own brain. It was literally one song after another of songs that either:

1. My ex-husband and I used to sing together over and over and over (or)

2. My ex-husband and I used to listen to together over and over and over

As we continued down I-70, we drove past Georgetown. That's where I got my marriage license. The sinking feeling continued, and I tried to suppress it as best I could, while still trying to smile and point at "pretty stuff" and sing to Grey Matthew.

But, the uneasiness wouldn't go away. As the days went on, we visited the garden where I had taken a picture of my hand next to my ex-husband's hand with our rings on. It was a silly, 22 year-old thing to do. We drove past the condos we stayed in. We went past the town where we tried, unsuccessfully, to get our license the first time (I forgot my license...a sign? Just kidding).

I kept trying to reason with myself. I would say, "Really, Cari. It's been 9 years since all of that. What is going on? Why is this bothering you so much??" So, I asked myself questions while Beau probably wondered why the hell I wasn't talking very much:

Are you sad because of what happened?

No. Not anymore, anyway.

Do you feel like you have "unfinished business" with him?

Not really. I feel really okay with us now.

Do you miss him? Does this place make you miss him?

Not exactly. I miss him as one would miss a best friend that they've lost. But, that's not quite it. I can't really put my finger on what this feeling is...

What is it, Cari? Why are you so sad? WHAT IS IT?

I miss myself.

You're not happy? Yourself how??

I miss my SELF then. I miss who I was. No, no. Not the drinking, dramatic, unhealthy, self-degrading self....but...

Then WHAT?

I miss the self that hadn't been through all that crap, yet. I miss the self that wasn't jaded and was open to everything possible, and didn't feel old or run down and loved so freely and openly and hung on to their partner's every word because they didn't know that it would end or that relationships sometimes don't survive.

Oh. That self.

Yep. That one. That girl. I miss that girl. I miss how that girl was until it all fell apart. And, I wouldn't change a thing, and I wouldn't want to go back, and I'm thankful that it all happened, and I'm happy where I am, but I STILL MISS THE INNOCENCE.

So, 3 days into the trip, I finally decide to tell Beau all of this after we got into a completely stupid fight. You know the kind....the kind of fight that is the most important fight in the entire world, and 3 months later you can't remember what the hell the fight was about. But, you remember that you fought. And it was bad.

And, after I told him that I missed my own innocence, he admitted that he missed his, too. And, then we admitted to each other that we kind of felt old and worn down. And, then we admitted to each other that we never want to feel this way again. I think the line, "I feel as if our marriage is hanging on by a thread," was mentioned. And then, "What is wrong with us? I don't want to feel like your business partner." And then, "I miss being in love." And finally, "Let's be in love again no matter what it takes." And then, "I'm never going to leave you." And then, "Marriage is hard." And then, "We're both so emotional that we put everything we are into that baby. We're losing each other." And then, "Let's decide to be young and happy for the rest of our lives." And then we cried, and Beau called it, "Cryday Friday," and so we laughed through tears.

And, then we decided to just have the one child. :)

I think sometimes it's good to go back to places that meant something very special to you at one point...just to see how it's changed and how it's changed you and how you've changed in its absence. It's good to remember those you loved deeply and courageously and blindly. It's good to listen to songs that remind you of them and how you were and what love meant then and what love means now and how much you've changed and wonder how they're doing and then smile at the man across from you and let yourself cry for as long as you need.

And then it's good to take a deep breath, turn off the radio...and go home.

Okay, I'm Back.

Apparently, all you need is a beer, and you can come up with some (hopefully) interesting things to say. I only have 23 minutes to type this blog because, sadly, I am addicted to not one, but THREE Real Housewives shows (NYC, Bethenny's spin-off, and New Jersey), and New Jersey is about to come on. I can't believe I just admitted that to the world. Let's never speak of it again, okay? Okay.

So, when I can't think of anything to write, I usually make lists. Here we go!

1. I will never re-create my now defunct Facebook account, so everyone who is asking me to "get back on" will just have to live in their own little hopeful world. And, then they can take that glimmer of hope and watch me squish it. I think an 80 year-old woman that my cousin Lindsey heard on NPR put it best when she said, "That sounds like an incredible waste of time." Yes, 80 year-old woman NOT on Facebook...it IS an incredible waste of time. So is watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

2. Everything in my life is being recalled. My dishwasher. Some random part of my car? I have no clue what part it is, but I got a letter about it, and it needs to be fixed. I'm ignoring the letter at the current moment. Beau was right. I should've gotten the BMW station wagon. Damn you, feeling-of-not-wanting-to-drive-a-station-wagon-and-be-a-mom-type-person-who-drives-a-station-wagon! Now, I sit sadly while Beau speeds around in his little BMW (not a station wagon), and my cute compact SUV gets recalled. I don't even want to discuss the dishwasher.

3. I would like to thank Grey Matthew Adams for being the prettiest boy this side of the MIssissippi. Yes, people mistake you for a girl on a weekly basis, (even while wearing blue) but I PROMISE your good looks will work out for you in the end. Damn those eye lashes!

4. I'm pretty positive that the producers who find people to go on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire" find people that have absolutely no chance of winning the million dollars. Today someone used a lifeline on the first question. I am tired of yelling at the contestants. I shall either:

a. Go on Who Wants to be a Millionaire (or)
b. Stop watching

p.s. Neither of those two things will happen, and I will continue to be completely annoyed with every contestant on the show. By the way, contestant today...Lennie. The answer was Lennie. The guy in "Of Mice and Men" is named Lennie. There. Don't use your lifeline. Just ask me next time. Also..."Expert Used for the Ask An Expert Section": The answer was...the Grammys. The Junos in Canada are what the GRAMMYS are to America. Way to be the "expert" and tell the girl the wrong answer.

5. Louis C.K.'s new show is pretty effing great.

6. Yes, I have mentioned 12 different TV shows in this blog. Can't. Stop. Watching. TV. In. The. Background. Of. Raising. My. Child.

7. My Corona Light sits half empty on the table to my right. Some would say it's half full. It's not. When you want more of something, the sadness grows as it dwindles. Therefore, it's half empty.

8. I have no class when it comes to red wine, anymore. I swear it's been over 100 degrees in Tulsa for the past two weeks. Therefore, red wine is to be chilled. Then, when you consume it on the porch after your 6-month old finally falls asleep, it is dubbed, "Cold, cold wine."

Example:

"I'd like some cold, cold wine now that my child is asleep."

"Oh, you mean white wine?"

"No. I hate white wine with a passion."

"Well, red isn't supposed to be chilled."

"Eff off. It's 500 degrees outside."

And, that's how you get yourself a glass of cold, cold wine, my friends.

9. My father-in-law continues to dash any hopes of OSU football being any good this year. I hope to God he's wrong. I know he's not. I'm ignoring his talk radio show for now.

10. New Jersey is on. Unfortunately, the New Jersey Housewives take precedent over everything ever created at this given time.

Good night.

Emails and Video Chats and Phone Calls, Oh My!

I get it, family and friends. I haven't written a blog in over a month. There are quite a few excuses for this. My favorite one is:

I couldn't think of anything about which to write. Which is kind of true. And kind of not.

I received 2 emails, a video "call" and a phone call about the fact that I haven't written in over a month. It made me smile. Look! I have "readers"!! I have a fan base! Granted, my fan base consists of various family members strewn about the country and a few friends that say things like, "Dude. Write some stuff. I'm bored." But, still. Fans. It gives me hope that I'm not writing all of this in vain.

Right now, I'm listening to the new Arcade Fire album for the 8 millionth time. It is glorious, and there are certain songs that give me that, "I'm going to run down Main Street in Stillwater, Oklahoma as fast as I can with my arms outstretched while looking up and screaming, 'Nothing besides this moment matters!!!'" I'm not quite sure why I always have this vision of myself when I hear a really wonderful song. I suppose it's because so much of my life happened in Stillwater. A lot of really good stuff. And, a lot of really not good stuff. But, it was STUFF. And it mattered.

I went back to Stillwater on Sunday. I told Beau that it seemed incredibly foreign to me. It's like remembering a dream you may or may not have had. Something familiar. The old football stadium where you wore way too much make-up to try to impress boys in high school. The coffee shop that still has the best coffee in all of America...okay...it's actually tied with Topeca Coffee in Tulsa. If you haven't had it, you're seriously missing out. It's called "Seed-to-Cup" because it comes straight from El Salvador...right to your cup. I always mess up the term and call it "Hand-to-Mouth." Then Beau reminds me that that term is dangerously close to being a term used in porn. Ass-to-mouth, Seed-to-cup, Hand-to-mouth...who can keep these things straight? All I know is that it's the best damn coffee ever. Except Aspen. Tied with Aspen.

Can you all see why I haven't written in awhile? Look at what I'm writing! This is BS. I have a lot of really important things I want to talk about. Realizations I've had in the past couple weeks. The fact that my son (still sounds weird to say) is 6 months old, and that scares the shit out of me. It's going too fast.

I'm going to go outside for a second and think about some things. I feel really frazzled, and I can't figure out why...just really scattered, and I can't seem to wrap my head around any one thing right now. When I come back, I will try my very hardest to have something of substance for you to enjoy.

I WILL have a "good" blog before I leave for Colorado on Wednesday. Maybe it's the heat that has completely fried my brain.

You can sing this little song to yourselves while you wait for my next poetic greatness:

Bor-ing, Bor-ing,
Cari's Blog is Bor-ing.
Can't she write about friends and foes?
Can't she write about her cobra toes?
(She has a toe that looks like a co-bra, co-bra.)

The last line is whispered, by the way.

Check ya on the flip side. See ya on the check side. Flip out. Peace.