Our trip to Eureka Springs

Day One

       Ron and I had nice drive up Hwy 71... The weather was beautiful.  I like traveling with my husband because he doesn't "race" to get there.  If I see a road side stand I want to look at, or an old church I want to photograph... He happily turns around. 

  Once we arrived in Eureka Springs, we had Bar-B-Que at a place called Bubba's across the street from the little cottage/gift shop that we check in at.   This was interesting.  There was a large family (if there is a large loud group of people or a baby crying, my husband and I WILL get seated next to them.  He thinks it's a conspiracy).   Notice how there is always one voice MUCH louder than the others?  Well... The dude had a mullet and his email was something along the lines of Captain Concrete.  He'd recently knocked some chic up, but she wasn't speaking to him because he lacked enthusiasm for the pregnancy.   Did I mention he was loud?   He was showing off his big bucks too... buying a round of french fries for the whole table.  Big Spender.

       The city was a bit sad to me.  The longer we were there and explored the downtown area, etc,.. the more disappointed I was.  This beautiful town had been oversold.  There was a hotel every five feet and where there was not a hotel, there was a sign letting you know there's a hotel in five feet.   The beautiful old architecture was cheesed up and there were signs everywhere.  The town has some wonderful history.   The restaurants were either open for Breakfast, lunch and or dinner.. but none for all three.  Nor was this clearly marked anywhere which shift it served a meal.   The shirtless guy on roller skates skating down main street with a huge rebel flag may have also influenced my views.   Some eclectic folks... one van looked like the space shuttle.  An El Camino that well.. I no words  explain.   

      We got our key, directions  and went to the Treehouse Cottage my husband had reserved for us.  It was so nice.  There was a beautiful leather king size bed, a heart shaped jacuzzi tube (sounds corny, but it was not).  Great scenery and big windows to see it out of.   My husband had chosen well.   I liked this place a lot.   We've stayed Bed & Breakfast places, at cabins in Texas, been in the luxury hotel rooms... but this was different.   We napped.  Then got up and went for a hike along the trail that led to a cave on the property.   Ummmmm.... The sign said a mile... what it didn't say was..."EACH WAY"!!!   Down hill a mile.. then back up.  O....M....G..... I am out of shape.   I had to stop and hold a tree up several times.   My husband was patient.  Once we made it back... (with a storm blowing in) we went to dinner.  That night was a lightening storm.  Added to the coziness in a strange way.

Day Two

        We got up real early to go fishing.  Did you know if you want REAL eggs you have to specify?  Or you'll get powdered... WTH?    Anyway... we ate our toast and powdered eggs and headed out to meet the guide.   It was windy and we did "ok" fishing... caught trout, wall-eye and white bass.  LOVED the scenery.   After fishing we went to see Beaver Lake and the mini Golden Gate bridge..  corny tourist stuff.   On our way back there was a bluff I wanted to photograph off of.  Ron pulled over and I stood there.  The wind had picked up and there were hawks flying off the edge.   You could see them using the wind to soar.   I took several pictures but was so caught up in the moment.... it wasn't easy to think of pictures.   It was beautiful.  Quiet, with only the sounds of the wind....  and the hawks kept going.  Probably about 6 of them in all dashing all around, over me sometimes, in front, from the left, from the right.   Beautiful.  

Then we went back to the cottage. Showered and napped (see the theme here... we are old... we sleep after everything we do)    Later, I set up the tripod and took pictures of some of the birds that visited the bird seed feeder on the back of the cabin.  

Day Three

       We slept in... well as late as a sky light and picture windows will let you. we explored the town some more, took a train ride to no where (seriously... we went 2.5 miles and it took an hour), went to Lake Leatherwood, some creeks,  Holiday Island.   Was a nice afternoon.   One disappointment.. we went to the Blue Spring Heritage Center.  They let us know that we could pay to go in but could not see the Blue Spring because of a wedding.  Huh?  We can't see the main attraction... the blue spring itself?   On a Saturday at 1 pm???    Pass!   So we went back to the cabin and napped (surprised?... didn't think so)

Over all... Eureka Springs, the town, wasn't so great, but the nature surrounding it was awesome.   We didn't go see The Passion Play.  But, I feel certain our Lord and Saviour wasn't crucified on a cross so that every gas station in Eureka Springs could sell a 5" plastic Jesus statue for $5.99.    (and no Tami.. I didn't get you a key chain...lol)

We headed home on Sunday.  We stopped in Fort Smith to see the court house where Isaac Parker (The Hanging Judge) presided.   I'm a nerd... I love historical stuff.  We stopped in Mena and had lunch on Queen Wilhelmina Mountian.   Came home from our trip happy, but exhausted.   I even cooked supper. (grilled cheese sandwiches..ha)

My husband planned this trip last August.  And after this past winter... it was perfect timing.  I needed time away with him, no kids, no dog, no Mom reminders.   Just us...  (Oh.. and a red headed woodpecker that stayed outside the back window as long as there was seed to be eaten)

     

What are you doing on April 16th?

Late last summer I came home from work and Ron asked me," What are you doing on April 16th?"   I gave my usual response... " I do what you do, what are YOU doing on April 16th?"   He showed me the Tree House cottage website.  He'd booked us a treehouswe cabin for the weekend.   And there's trout fishing :)  and a lot of things to take pictures of.  I'm in heaven.
pictures to come.  of course.

My Blake was a sick baby boy...

The pediatrician had diagnosed him with Renal Tubular Acidosis and referred him to LSU.   The only Pediatric Nephrologist in the state of Louisiana was from New Orleans. Dr Frank Boineau came up to LSU every couple months and that's where Blake saw him. 

I was only 17 with a sick kiddo.   I was a mature teen mom.  We didn't have the internet then.  I went to the LSU library, researched and had the Nation Kidney Foundation send me information on RTA.   I intended to know EVERYTHING about my son's disease.   So... I made notes and lists of questions for Dr Boineau before showing up.   As I discussed everything with him in an exam room at LSU, he asked me my age more than once.   One of the important things about RTA is finding out if it's primary, distal and the type it is.

The only way to find out the type of RTA Blake has was to admit him to Tulane University Hospital, where Dr Boineau was based and run tests.   By this time, Blake cried when he saw a doctor or nurse.  We had been going often, sometimes daily to have blood drawn to monitor his CO2 level.   Sometimes they had to do blood gases.  For those it was a heel stick.  I wasn't "immune" to Blake hurting when they stuck him.  It was gut wrenching every time.   But, I held him and they stuck him.  You can't explain to a one year old WHY Mommy is holding you down to let someone hurt you. 

So. we go to New Orleans...  admit to Tulane.

Right off the bat... something happened that.   Something unacceptable to me.   The residents came to take Blake for a blood gas.   Huh?   Can't you do that here?  I don't mind holding him.  Why take him to another room?   But I hold him all the time at the hospital in Shreveport for this!   OK... if this is how it's done here.. in a treatment room.   They brought me my son back and he was trembling.  Then I saw it... a bandage on his wrist?   WTH??

My Blake was trembling and tears pouring from his bright blue/grey eyes.  He wasn't making a sound.  He was just traumatized.  I was Shirley McClaine in Terms of Endearment ANGRY!!!    Dr Boineau walked in as I' m rocking him thirty minutes later.    Blake was still trembling and we both had tears streaming down our faces.   I immediately held out his hand and asked,"WHY?"   He said,"What is that?".     I told him and that in Shreveport they do it from a heel stick, etc,..  His face was red.   He was MAD.  He assured me that's how it's done here at Tulane and if a Mom wants to be present it's her right.   He went to the nursing station and I could hear him yelling at the residents.  (GET EM'!!!!.., cause the Cedar Grove in me wanted to kick their... )    Those residents came back and apologized... profusely.

Blake had a private room because they get a stool culture back from the week before from a hospital admission for diarrhea induced dehydration.   Blake had salmonella.  (yum, huh?)  So, there we were... in a hospital.. me and my Blake... and he was on isolation precautions.   I was tough by day and lonely by night.    I'd pull the metal baby crib close to the couch I slept on, so I could be half way in the bed with him until he fell asleep.    Then pat his back when he woke disoriented by his surroundings and scared.

I did get breaks.  The nurses would insist I take a break.  It was part of their protocol for out of town moms with kids there.  They knew we needed it.   And we did.   The nurses there.. rocked.     I went outside one day when the nurse watched Blake.  It was so surreal.   My age, the circumstance, where I was... all hit me.   I went back inside to "safety" quickly.   I also stood in the doorway a lot.  Right outside Blake's room was a waiting room type area... kids played, mom's with kids in the PICU waited and slept. 

There was a little girl about 4yrs old who rode her tricycle around the halls.    She was beautiful.  Her skin was bright gold and her little tummy distended.  She had liver disease.   She was ride by and ask how my baby was.  I'd tell her he was sleeping (this is when I stood at the door) but he was ok.  She was adorable.  She wanted to see Blake so bad.  So one day when he was awake, I held him where she could see him from several feet away.   This only increased her inquiries into how my baby was...lol

There was one mother who's baby was in PICU...   she was so worried... her baby boy had a hole in his heart and needed surgery.   After about 5 days and nights of talking to her from my doorway... one night I'm laying on my couch and I hear her scream.   Have you ever heard a mother's pain?   The sound of her heart breaking?    It's loud and intense and overwhelming.   Especially if you're a 17yr old in another city with your own sick baby.   I don't think I'd ever cried so hard before that night.   I halfway climbed in that baby bed with my son.    I needed to feel him..  touch him... love him.    He was (and still is) my heartbeat.

Blake was diagnosed with Distal RTA Type 1 before it was over... most outgrow it and he did (around age 4 or 5). 

When Blake's pediatrician was leaving the area, I got a copy of his records.    I read through Dr Boineau's notes.  In each letter to Dr Hill, he'd mention how mature the mother was for a young mom and he had every reason to believe she was complaint and took exceptional care of the patient.  It never occurred to me that me or my mommy capabilities were under assessment as well. 

About a year and half ago... my Blake was sick again.    He was 23 years old at the time, but it was Deja Vu.   It was that very same feelings of being helpless and wanting to love him back to health.

God...I adore that kid.

Colorblind

My oldest son Blake mentioned something to me , that he noticed during his grandmother's funeral.    As he looked in the family section and throughout the chapel... the people that had gathered to celebrate her life.. were diverse.

Mom saw through skin color and raised me with that same belief system.   She raised me that a man is a man... not a black man... not a white man..  or Asian, etc,..   simply a man.     That man happens to have skin of a different color.

When I was about 9, at times, I was a latch key child.  When mom would work an extra shift, I'd be home alone in the evenings.    We lived in a duplex, next to two nursing students.  Paula and Lana looked after me for her.  Paula and her boyfriend, Larry were a mixed race couple in a time of extreme nonacceptance.    One weekend they wanted to take me to Six Flags.    TO SIX FLAGS!!!   I'd never been anywhere like that.  Ever.    Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease can I go???   Mom didn't think twice about it, she let me go.  She caught so much flack for that.  From family, work friends, friend friends..  of a few races.    (There was racism in the family, I'd been exposed to it, it's just that my mom didn't have that ideology)   Bottom line is, my mom knew Paula and Larry were "good people" and despite urging from others, she let me go to SIX FLAGS!!  (love that phrase.. "good people", she always used it when describing people of good integrity...)

My Blake also mentioned that he noticed how everyone was melted in.  I thought about this and agreed.     A beautiful and desegregated group of people attended the service.   I reminded him that Mom's best friend is Hispanic.  And I was raised with her and going to her family functions.    It just was never an issue..     I really don't recall ever thinking that they were different because they just treated me as one of their own kids.    Only discomfort was when grandma Tony started fussing in Spanish.   lol.. I had no clue what I was in trouble for. 

Please know... this is NOT my " I have a black/Hispanic friend" speech.  Because I genuinely believe if someone has to point that out, they may not be racist, but they are unindifferent to skin color.   To be "aware" of skin color is not the sin, hating someone because of it, is.   It's just a alternate mindset and not really something I or anyone else should judge them for.  

I'm proud when I'm told I'm like my Mom.    I'd like to think I'm the happy-go-lucky, work loyal, colorblind, loving, kid friendly, woman my mom was.  (You'll notice I skipped the "innocent" humor part... my humor isn't near as "innocent" as hers...ha!)  Her work family loved her and she loved them.  (As mine do me, and  I do mine)   But, what am I MOST proud of?   I look at my sons and see they are both colorblind as well.    They can thank their Grandma.

Audrey Lee Willis was a special lady.  Truly.     (Laaaawd, I miss that woman!!!)     I'm exploring the "colorblind" subject because my Blake mentioned how wonderful it was to see such a multicultural group of people gathered for to memorialize his Grandma Audrey.   And how it hit him, that is what his she did.  My mom brought people together.  She was a bright, happy light... and people were drawn to her kind heart and innocent humor.   ALL people.

I'm having a party!

Ok..  not a REAL party.. cause I don't wanna have to clean my house that thoroughly.    I'm lazy like that.   It's a catalog party.  I know I never sale stuff,...  but this is so cool and reasonably priced.    The monogramming is only $1.50.   If you wanna check it out, go here and click the "SHOP NOW" box:
http://www.mythirtyone.com/shop/eventhome.aspx?eventId=E544813&from=MYEVENTS

   Here's what I've bought:

and these:

They have many patterns and you pic the color for the monogramming, etc,...
That's my "sales pitch".
Hope you're all enjoying your weekend. 
I'm resting.   I'm good at that. Very.

I'm not "OK". However, I am stable.

First I must ask... have you lost your mom, your dad? Because this question immediately tells me where we stand in your understanding of me.

If you haven't, you are so very blessed.   However you can't possibly relate to me on any level.    I don't mean this defensive.    It's just you can't know why this is taking me so long.  I can't even know, other than the lady who gave me life and was my mommy.... She is gone.

If you have lost your mother/father I'm so sorry... I never knew this kind of pain before.  And I'm sorry you've ever had to feel it yourself.

I know I'm the happy-go-lucky person... and lately I've been a drag.   I know everyone keeps expecting the "old Jo" to show up.   I'm not dwelling in this.  I  just doesn't feel right yet.   My  heart is where it is.  It hurts.   Possibly deperssed?   Wouldn't you be if you knew you'd never get another Mommy hug?   they really are the best kind.

My goals are to be positive and healthy and move forward.  I'm not angry.  Just sad.     I really feel I'm doing good.  And this whole time I was thinking I wasn't a "cry" kinda girl.     Just takes a bigger hit for some of us I guess. 
I'm feel so judged though. By my lack of "progress".   Someone actually said to me, " Wasn't that a month ago"    Well... yes... she died a month ago.  But I had her 41 years.

So, yes.. I don't smile all the time like normal, yet. I will find my smile.

No, I am not witty and jovial as usual. This too will come.

I am so grateful to my husband who doens't walways know why I began crying but holds me tight each time.  

For now, I just need you to understand, that I will cry when you mention eggplant, Elvis presley and if anyone sings the Irish Lullaby "TooRa Loo Ra LooRa" out of key... I'd hate to know what a baby I'd act like.   She use to sing it (horribly) as she stroked my hair at night.

I promise you this. When you deal with your grief, your loss, I will not judge, read too much into your actions.  I will know why your eyes are red and puffy and you are sleepy.   I'll know you are dealing with it still.  I will not question other's about your "coping"      I will support you. and not ask you "are you sure youre ok " Because you will NOT be ok.  You will be devestated and need your friends to be your friends.

On January 25th, everything changed. I changed,  My mom. She died. I am not ok.  However, I am stable.

I'm going to make you cryyyyyyyyyy!

Ron and I went to dinner this evening.    In walked a nice looking guy late 20s, his early 20s gf & HIS 3 yr old daughter.   How do I know she was a gf?  How do I know it was HIS child?

After eating, I went to the rest room to wash my hands.    The gf was in there with the little girl.   The little girl was playing peek-a-boo with the bathroom stall door and the young lady had a nervous laugh as she kept saying," Come on MJ... use the bathroom so we can go eat"    (it was obvious she didn't have any authority - actual or perceived- over this little girl)   The little girl was adorable, with curly blond pigtails.   

As I'm washing my hands the young lady decides she's going into the stall.   "You can't come in here!" ....      The daddy gf goes in.   And what I heard next ran chills down my spine.   The little girl said,"I don't like you.  I don't love you. You're NOT my friend. You're NOT my Mommy.  I don't even know WHY you are here!!!"    I heard the gf's gasp....   I was stunned myself.   Cause the child who looked like a toddler just spoke in a clear voice.   And tore down a grown woman.   The Daddy gf stuttered a bit, then said,"MJ, that's not nice...  that is mean"     To which MJ (AKA demon child) responds,"I'm going to make you cryyyyyyyyyy"    The Daddy gf gasped.

I got my arse out of there before lil Drew Barrymore's Firestartin' self began blowing things up with her eyes.

I'm guessing that little girl's words were not her own... they came from tha baby mama.   But the evil tone in which she said those things came from her.   I've never been scurred of a child before.   But if I come across this adorable little thing in an alley... I'm running the other way.  (I bet you 10 dollars she had a knife on her somewhere.)