Monica's Journal

Monica has kept a journal all year.  It's an assigned thing.  Sometimes they have subjects to write about, some times it's whatever they want.  She brought it home yesterday, and I'm slowly flipping through it.  There is some funny, light-hearted stuff, and some very heavy stuff.  Here are a few that caught my eye today (things in parentheses are just my thoughts and comments.):

Friday, September 9th, 2005

Today is grandparants day!  But, sadly, my grandparents, can't come.  They have to go to a stupid motorcycle show.  Boring!  I am very mad. (this is funny, because she spelled grandparents 2 different ways, and didn't notice it.  Also, she assured mom and me that she was OK with them not being there.  Go figure.)

Thursday, September 15, 2005

My uncle, Steve Fierro, was a firefighter.  He was putting out a fire when it happened.  The roof was on fire, and it fell on him.  He died.  It was a year and a half ago.  Feb. 14, 2004 is the day he died.  I don't want to talk about it any longer. (it was actually the 18th, and we all feel the same way, babe.  We don't want to talk about it.)

February 10, 2006

My grandma's dog  Mandy was a great dog.  She would chase Buddy.  She chewed on bones and sticks.  She went to the cabin with us and hunted with Buddy.  She was an awsome mutt.  (yes, hon, she was.)

I kept the misspellings in there, and didn't change puncuation or anything.  Just so you know.  Now, you have a little glimpse of the world through the eyes of my daughter....10, going on 40.

My commute

Here is some random crap from my drive to and from work today.  Some are pretty, some are weird, and some are just scary.  Enjoy!

Happy Birthday, Jim

Happy Birthday to my brother. 

You sneezed on me on purpose.  You tackled me and gave me a rug burn on my nose.  You called me names.  You hit me.  You lied to get me in trouble.

You rode bikes with me to town.  You taught me to spray paint my bike.  You looked out for me when you thought I didn't know.  You defended my country and my freedom.  You're funny as hell and a good trouble-shooter when I'm too cheap to pay someone to fix my problems.

I'd say the good outweighs the bad, and the bad is all in the past.

I love you, Jim.

Happy Birthday!  <----(Notice the John Deer green?)

About last night

Mom posted an entry about last night.  This evening, via telephone, I finally got the real story. I had a photographers meeting to attend *yawn* so didn't get home until bedtime, so I talked to her on the phone, and Kevin got the rest. 

First, to clear a few things up. 
When she has a bad dream, she wakes me.  I get up and sit with her, and let her tell me about it if she wants to (sometimes she doesn't want to talk about it.)  After discussion, we get her a drink of water, and I tuck her back into bed.  What else can be done?  She doesn't have them often...maybe once every couple of months.

The nightmare story was just that, a story.  She didn't have one, and hadn't even fallen asleep.

She wasn't sleep walking, since she could tell me even the tiniest details about leaving (the basement door unlocks and opens ok, but doesn't always latch real well when you close it...she didn't get it latched) and she put on sandals and a pair of shorts under her nightshirt.  Sleepwalkers don't do that.

The real story is this:  She has a friend who said he was going to run away and live in the woods.  She laid awake worrying about him.  She told me tonight, "He wouldn't make it even ONE night out there!"  Her plan was to walk to his house, and tell his parents where to find him.

He lives FIVE MILES AWAY!  In a car, it's a short trip, so she probably thought it was closer.  Thank God in heaven above that Mom lives between here and there.  She got worn out and went to Grandma's.  She knew she shouldn't have done it, but she was worried about Devin.

She has had multiple talks from Grandma, Grandpa, me and Kevin about what could have happened.  I asked if any cars passed her, and she said a couple did, on the other side of the road.  Why wouldn't anyone call the police if they saw a young girl walking alone in the night?!  I also keep telling her that she can tell us about such worries, and I will talk to a kids parents, if needed.  She can't always save the world without help.

The stuff that made me not sleep well after, and that kept my stomach in knots all day, and kept me on the verge of tears at work:
She walked 2 miles on a two-lane highway.  No shoulder.  55 mph speed limit. Curves.
There are dogs running loose between here and there.
It's the country, no street lights.
It's TWO MILES.
There are weirdo freaks everywhere.
People out at midnight are often drunk drivers.
It was supposed to be storming at that time.  Storms missed us.

I am so thankful.  Still, I had this heavy feeling of dread all day.  Feeling inferior.  I didn't hear her leave, and the phone didn't wake me.  There is no WAY to hear that door from upstairs, but still.  I should have had an alarm on it.  I can't child-proof it, it's their fire exit.  I honestly feel that she "gets" the gravity of the situation, and the could-have-beens have been drilled into her all day.  Still, something tells me I won't be sleeping much tonight.

Again.

Ahhh, never mind

Forget the TV thing.  Friday and Saturday are always grab-bag days of channel surfing.  If anyone gives a crap, tonight will be:
Extreme Makeover: Home Edition
Desperate Housewives
Grey's Anatomy
Some channel hopping will be done for Family Guy.  It appeases Kevin and Brett.

Now, on to the weekend.

I had to work yesterday morning, and took Mom to the store in the afternoon.  Monica decided that her stuffed animal (a lamb who has had it's nose chewed off by the dog) was having a birthday.  We had a cake mix, and Kevin loves cake, so he baked it...for the lamb...her name is Kimba.  She was a boy until a few hours before his/her birthday party.

Brett had a friend spend the night.  He used to be a neighbor, before we moved here.  They had plans to go to a movie today, and having Marshall spend the night last night was easier.  We had cake, and it was fun.  We're so weird.

Today, we ate lunch at Mom and Dad's, then Brett and Marshall went to the movies.  Kevin put new plugs, distributor cap, and rotor on my car.  The plugs were shot.  That explains the missing it was doing while idling.  The oil leak will have to be fixed by a pro.  The whole pan would need dropped, and Kevin fears not being able to reassemble it, after tearing into it.  I prefer him saying that now, rather than after it's in pieces.  We'll see what it'll cost, then decide.  Hell, the car only cost us $500.

Kevin's gone, taking Marshall home, and letting Brett see Kyla for a bit while he runs to WalMart.  I've got laundry moving, and will soon clean the aquarium so my evening is free for T.V.  I love T.V.  Any donations to Kimba's birthday fund can be forwarded to my bank account.  I'll see to it that she gets a new nose....or I get a new car....or something.

ROFL.

More to come:

Tomorrow, I'm starting a new thing.  I'm not posting enough, so for one week, I'll bore you with what I watch.  I am addicted to TV, and there are certain shows that I will NOT miss.  Starting tomorrow, I'll tell you what I watch and why.  Boring?  Yes.  But it's me.  Get used to it.

We interrupt this journal....

For some random blather.


Dad looks great.  He is still healing, and not the Dad I'm used to, but it's so overwhelmingly great to have him laugh.  I mean LAUGH.  Not that guarded chuckle he used in the hospital.  I mean a real hard laugh.  I love it.

Work is work.  'Nough said.  I'm keeping up, but barely.  Keeping up is good, so I'm OK with it.  I'm just so busy.

It was storming when I left for work today.  I had to drive 30 mph to Mom's, dropped off the girls, then headed out in rain so hard I couldn't see the road.  I hit a puddle, no, I hit a RIVER in the road.  Hydroplaned a bit, and got it under control.  From that point on, the oil pressure gauge was weird.

This little LeBaron is a POS.  You have to add a quart of oil every 4-5 days.  The mileage is so good that I keep driving it, though.  I got scared about the gauge, though, and stopped by Kevin's work to swap vehicles.  "Please check the oil when the rain lets up, ok?"  He agreed.

THREE. QUARTS. LOW.

HUH?  I just added oil less than 3 trips to work ago, and it was fine.  So, in three trips, it loses three quarts?  I felt like a dip.  I asked tonight, "did you tell Dad?"  He said that he did.  *sigh*

Dad raised me better than that.  You do NOT leave home low on oil.  If you drive something that burns/loses oil, you check it daily.  Out of oil=out of a car.  Period.  I feel so ashamed.

Kevin drove it home, after making sure the oil level was fine.  I felt stupid.  I checked it, since there is never time in the mornings, and it was over a half quart low.  HUH?  Maybe it's not me?  It's probably me, but losing a pint in a 20 mile trip is unusual for even THAT car.  Could I have loosened the oil filter when I hit the river?  Could something else be to blame?  I doubt it, but I hate to have the shame of driving a thirsty car.  Oil is blood.

Just ask Dad.