Reflection

This blog is where I write about everything* in my head, and so holding back information because I feel silly about it is, well, just dumb.

Sometimes I write in order to see what it is that I'm truly feeling. I'm not always completely in touch with my own emotions and thoughts and it takes a whole lot of writing before I get to the 'aha!'.

Sometimes I write about things that I want my kids to have referenced somewhere after I die (hopefully, many years from now).

Sometimes I write so those in my life who read my blog will understand me a little bit more.

But mainly, I just write for me. I like to write because it's cathartic.

With that said....

Last night I had a really hard time sleeping. My mind was racing with lots of thoughts, but the one that kept coming back to me was, now that I've had this surgery I'll never be able to have another baby, and it REALLY upset me.

Huh? I'll be 47 years old at the end of this month and I honestly had no intentions of having another baby. Not even for a minute did I want to have another baby. Why would this upset me so much then?

I also got to thinking that a part of my body that I'd come to hate over the years was the very thing that enabled me to give birth to two of the most wonderful people I've ever known. How could I hate something that also brought me such joy?

I'm one of the lucky ones that was able to have babies. I've never taken that for granted because I cannot imagine my life without my sons. I am about as close to wrapping my whole world around them (in a non-smothering way, of course), as I possibly can.

How can I come to terms then, with the hateful relationship that I had with this part of my body and how I was so excited to be finally rid of it. I keep picturing 'it' tossed aside like garbage, with no less than a "don't let the door hit ya on the way out" from me. I feel so disrespectful, and ungrateful today.

Wow- I never thought I'd give it a second thought. Now it seems that I'm giving it lots of thought and regret. I do not regret having the surgery, and I'm positive that it was the right thing. I'm not sure what it is that I regret. I just know that the feeling of regret is the feeling that keeps bubbling up to the surface.

Maybe I'm just having some sort of temporary depression, caused by a combination of anesthesia, hormones, and cabin fever. I'm fairly certain that I'll look back on this post one day (or maybe even in two hours, considering the rapid cycling of emotion I've been feeling) and shake my head at the drama of it all.

*not everything... I'm smart enough to keep most job-related thoughts out of this public forum.

Tomorrow, 12/31 is your birthday. It seems odd to me that I never knew when your birthday was until after you died. From now on, though, I will think about you and reflect on your life on this day.

I often wonder what it would be like if you were alive when I finally 'found' you. I wonder about the conversations we would have had. I'd like to think that you would have recognized in me the traits that are so like yours.


It's obvious that most of my physical traits come from you, as is evidenced by our picture at the same age. As I've gotten to know you better through your family- I am also so amazed at the similarities in personality.

I see us both as being huge risk takers, and I know exactly why we do it. We both have high IQs which enables us to figure out the things we need to do, to get from start to finish. So, armed with this knowledge, I know that there is not one thing I can't do, if I set my mind to it. It may not happen exactly as planned, and I might have to go back to the drawing board a few times, but the end result is that I've achieved what I wanted to achieve. I've proven it to myself over and over again, and when things don't work out right away it makes me work even harder. This side of my personality has served me well in my career, however there have been times that I couldn't see the light at the end of the path I'd set out for myself. I knew the light was there, somewhere, I just couldn't see it. I had to rely on faith in myself to keep going sometimes, even though that faith was just a shred.

I wonder if this trait we share, is the one that caused you to take that final step. Because I've painted myself into corners, due to my need prove I can do ANYTHING, I have to admit that I understand, almost too well, the emotional place that ended your journey here.

I think of all of the traits that we share, this is the one that is both a blessing and a curse. I will do my best to honor you by focusing on the positive and learn from you what could happen if I am not careful.

If he could, I'm sure that Casey would like to thank you for his hair. He thinks his hair is 'all that and a bag of chips', and it is obvious from looking at pictures that it came from you.


I think we can probably 'thank' you for the wiseacre side of Cameron's personality. OK, to be honest- that trait didn't skip a generation. I have it too.

I remember when I received this picture, how blown away I was at how much Cameron looks like you.


As I've received other pictures throughout the past 18 months, I see how much Casey looks like you too. The way you looked varied from picture to picture, so the similarities switch back and forth. One thing is for sure- you certainly had a strong set of genes.

This may sound strange, but I was really glad to hear that you were a good father to my half-sisters. I was told by my mother that you weren't in my life because you didn't like children, and I believed it. It was nice to hear that this wasn't the case at all. It was merely a set of circumstances that kept us from having a relationship.

I want you to know that I do not harbor any resentment about the fact that you were not in my life. I used to, just a little, before I understood the grand scheme of things. There is no doubt in my mind that everything happened the way it was supposed to.

My dad is, and always has been, an awesome dad to me. He's been my dad since I was five, but I honestly believe that he was ALWAYS meant to be my dad in the family lottery.

I cannot imagine, even for a minute, being in this world without my sister and my brother . If things would have worked out between you and my mother, I would have missed out on two people that have brought me a lot of joy and a sense of belonging. I know without a doubt that they were meant to be my siblings.

I have been blessed with all of this, and now I am blessed to have your family in my life. I've said it many times, but I need to say it again. It's as if I've always been a part of your family, and it boggles my mind that I've only known them less than two years.

Your mother, my grandmother, fills the one void that I've felt all of my life. Think about the odds that I'd meet your mother at the ripe old age of 92. It's pretty amazing, isn't it? The relationship I have with her is very special to me and I'd like to think that you're somewhere out there smiling about the joy both of us feel when we are on the phone together.

On your birthday, I can think of no better gift than to tell you that I am proud of the man that I've come to know through your family. I am proud of the fact that you are my father. I am proud that you were such a kind and gentle man, and seemed to want to take care of everyone around you. I think you'd be proud to know that these traits are things that my sons and I share as well. You've given the three of us many gifts- even though we've never met. Isn't that amazing? I sure think so.

Tomorrow night, I will step away from the guests, light a candle in your honor, and think about you for a while. I hope that somehow, wherever you are, you'll feel and understand the things I've been thinking. I just wish I could say them to you in person.

I'd been tormenting myself (and probably the bearded eye-roller) for days and days about the Christmas day lunch with the sociopath. Approximately four days before the dreaded day, I started having insomnia and when I could sleep, I had nightmares.

Right before leaving the house, I popped one of my 'special sociopath vitamins'; prescribed by my doctor about 18 months ago for the occasions when I had to be around her. They're actually past their toss date, but I took one anyway. Actually, I believe I might have taken two. I brought one downstairs with the intent to take it right before leaving. When we went to leave, I couldn't find it, so went back upstairs to get another one.

It is QUITE possible that I took the first one and forgot. We all know how forgetful I've been lately... In any case, I wasn't feeling even an ounce of anxiety. Yay for Valium!

::ahem:: I mean 'special sociopath vitamins'.

We went to a lovely restaurant, so I got to get all gussied up again- this time wearing my OTHER new shoes. I am happy to report that the suit I was wearing was a size EIGHT. I am officially a size 8! Oh yeah, baby, I'm almost half the size I was when I married the bearded eye-roller. Go me.

By the time we got to the restaurant, I was feeling NO pain. I even hugged the SP and made eye contact with her throughout lunch. I guess I kind of had to, since I was sitting straight across the table from her.

BER's mom came with us for support, and that made a great deal of difference. Special sociopath vitamins + BER's mom = It turned out OK.

I'm smart enough and have lived long enough to know that she was on her best behavior for a reason. I also know that just because she CAN behave doesn't mean that she WILL behave in the future. She's proven that to me several times.

Thankfully, I'll have a full year before I have to worry about dealing with her again.

It seems that every.single.brick that has been on my shoulders the past three months has magically disappeared. I can't begin to describe how differently I feel today versus two and three months ago. I feel happy, calm, and at peace. I feel like writing again- the good stuff, not the whiny stuff.

I'm sure going to work on keeping myself in this good place. In nine days, I'll have the surgery and will be off for six weeks. I've purchased several books to help me figure out how to let go of things that interrupt these good feelings. I'm hoping that by the end of that six weeks, I'll have the answers to my quest on staying right here in this calm, peaceful place I'm enjoying now.

Or, rather, out of the saddle? Hmmmm....

I finished the PFH1* two days ago, actually. I have been busy working on my year end performance review, catching up on other projects, catching up on email, etc. Today, I'm taking the day OFF. Oh, and Saturday and Sunday too- in case there's any question in your mind.

Once I finished PFH1, it was time for the Learning Management System (LMS) administrators to do their thing. Re-publish the updated original modules, publish the new modules (oh- did I tell you that I had to create two different versions of all of the modules to make this thing work?), and rearrange the curricula.

::SCREECH:: they didn't have the resources to do it this week. It would be some time next week.

Of course, I should have expected that. Every step of the way I've been up against a brick wall, why should the last step be any different?

So..... I pulled a "Lori Special". I said that I know the test version of the LMS system inside out because I taught myself three weeks ago and have been in and out of it every day since. I further said that if the live version is the same as the test version, then I could do all of it for them. Someone would just have to give me access.

The man who shall receive homemade fudge (the tech guy whose praises I sung last week), gave me access and I was on my way.

All that's left to do on this project is to follow up with the 1000 or so managers to ensure that their people have taken the training. If you were around my blog in March last year, you'll remember that in the end I was making telephone calls to the slackers who wouldn't respond to my email.

Something to look forward to...

Now you get to read my spin on this whole thing. I was stressed out beyond anything I could have imagined; I worked more hours than I though was physically possible; I ran into road block after road block; I was forced to learn some very technological things in a very short time (and under stress); and I put up with lots of people who just didn't get it.

Would I change anything?

Believe it or not, I'm going to have to say no. In the end, every.single.one of my customers was ecstatic with what I produced (even 'Mr. Helpful' left me a voicemail saying "great job" on Wednesday); I know that the training (the meat of the project) is the best training that I've ever produced; and I learned LOTS of new things. Most of all, I was able to prove to myself that I still have whatever it takes to get the job done. I *know* that I've done something this past month (we won't count the weeks before that, that ran relatively smoothly) that very few people could or WOULD do.

I proved to myself, and hopefully to my employer, that this ol' girl still has it.

*Project From Hell 1

It looks like *this* is the new crunch weekend. Last week was screwed up royally, but I'm back to ground zero (ground zero plus 5 inches, even) and can see the light to the end of the tunnel.

This one, anyway...

I've been hitting the ground running every day for as long as I can remember but, based on a great day yesterday, decided to take a break on the back porch as soon as there was daylight.

I made myself a cup o' joe, grabbed the bag of peanuts and headed out to the back porch and just took it all in.

The jays have learned that usually when we're out there, they get fed. They're smart like that (or are we dumb like that?). So, soon the jays came to have their breakfast.

The jay that usually finds the nuts first is the loud mouth. We call him the rooster, because he thinks he can scare us off by yelling at us. We've also noted that we've had co-workers like this. Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! What he doesn't realize, is that if he'd just keep his yapper shut, he'd probably have all the nuts to himself. Instead, he's basically notifying the 'hood that the food is out. The squirrels have even come to recognize this as their dinner bell.

It was lightly raining, and the leaves were dropping from the trees, two by two. I felt my body relax in a way I haven't felt in many, many weeks. I pushed the idea of the work ahead of me out of my head as best as I could and tried to allow my mind to be still.

It worked, for the most part, and I decided that I should add this 'break' to my telecommuting days, every day.

Yesterday was a great day for me at work. Besides getting back to ground zero, I had a meeting with someone that I've needed to have for a while. I left that meeting feeling very energized and positive. Something I haven't felt in a very long time.

I'm not saying that my professional life is back the way I know it, nor is the bearded eye-roller's life. But we're starting to feel a little less fear. I'm sorry to be so vague about what's really going on, but I can't say too much due to the confidential nature on both accounts.

I guess, if I'm going to be philosophical about the 'whys'; why this happened to both of us at the same time; why now; etc., I'd have to say that it gave both of us an understanding of just what we're willing to do to keep our home life the way it is. We both have made some pretty hefty statements about what we will and will not do in regard to our careers.

We're rethinking those ideals.

In all of this, it's cemented our knowledge that he and I are a team. As stressful as this time has been for both of us, we never took it out on each other- not even for a minute. Instead, we both got to see a side of each other that doesn't normally play a part in our marriage. We both got to see just how admirable the other person is in their business 'life'. He's told me how proud he is of me, and I've said the same to him.

I've also told him that if we lost everything and had to live in a tent, we'd still have the most important thing- each other.

We haven't crossed our individual hurdles yet, but somehow it seems to matter less and less.