Bonnet and Will

I can't tell you how close Bonnet and Will were this last week. Well, I can tell you . . . or at least I can try.

From the moment Will would wake up all I would here was "Can I wake Bonnet up?" "Is Bonnet awake?" "Can I check if Bonnet's Up Yet?" It was enough to drive you crazy. Then as soon as he heard her getting up he would follow her EVERYWHERE; to the bathroom, out to smoke, to check her email, to her room to read, and so on.

It wasn't bad enough she never got a moment to herself, but he would litterally crawl on her if he could. He'd sit on her lap, on her feet, crawl on the back of the sofa and set on her head. He'd jump on her if she was on her bed. He'd chase her if she was standing or walking. He'd beg her to sit in the back seat with him so he could torture her when we were driving.

And talk? The boy would talk to her constantly. "What you doing Bonnet?" "How come Bonnet?" "Wanna play Bonnet?" "Push me Bonnet." "Read to me Bonnet." "Come play Bonnet." "Let me in Bonnet."

I tried to keep him off her a little bit the first day or so, but she didn't really seem to mind. I figured she's a grown woman, is she got tired of it she'd run him off. But she never did. I still thought he probably was irriatting her to death. Until tonight when I went in to Will's bathroom to give him a bath and saw a message she left him on the shower wall.



I think she does.

Holidays are Over!

I for one, am very happy to see an end to the holiday season this year. It's been 10 kinds of stressful, 9 bags of painful, 8 cases of bad booze, 7 times to long, 6 times to much money, 5 times to hot, 4 kinds of lonely, 3 ways to blow lights, 2 much togetherness, and 1 long ass trip. Ho, Ho, Ho.

Following my sisters advice, I put as little effort into Holidays this year as possible. And I found that it really did help. We did put up a tree, more for Will than anything else. But we put up less than 1/5 of the normal ornaments we usually place on it. I didn't put out any room decorations, and I have 5 or 6 boxes of them. I didn't decorate around my door, or hang items outside like I normally do. I didn't hang up my Christmas flag.

I did end up putting out two non-tree items. First, Will remembered from years past our three deer we put out each year. They are a family; buck, doe, and fawn. My Aunt Cindy actually gave them to me for Christmas one year -- about 8 years ago. Each year I put them out with garland. So I dug them out on Will's command and put them up. I didn't put them where I usually do, I just set them on the rock bench in front of our fireplace. About a week before Christmas I was cleaning up and happen to look over at them and laughed out loud. While most children are worried about leaving cookies out for Santa, my son was worried the deer weren't being fed.



The other item I put out is my Christmas Bull. I have always picked up small things when I travel that I can put on my Christmas tree. They don't have to be ornaments, or even come with strings. I just like to remember my trips, friends, and family while celebrating the holiday . . . normally.

While Paul was stationed in Germany he made a trip to Spain. He asked what I wanted him to pick up for me and I told him anything I could put on my Christmas tree. Well, he had trouble finding anything that said "Spain" and was small -- obviously they don't use key chains over there. So he sent me a black bull with swords through it. There is no doubt it yells "SPAIN", but when I put it on the tree you can't see it due to the dark color. So each year, I unpack it with the rest of my Christmas stuff and set it somewhere near other decorations -- poinsettias this year.

I am always asked about it by company and I simply tell them, "It's my Christmas Bull."



And yes, the speaker really is that dirty and I still haven't wiped it off.

Bonnet's visit comes to an end

Bonnet has been living in CO for over 4 months now. Her dad paid for her round trip ticket to fly down and spend a week with us for Christmas. She ended getting snowed in, so she arrived a day late. But I've enjoyed every minute of her time with us.

Probably not as much as Will has though. Every single waking moment, Will has been jumping, chasing, screaming, attaching, or sitting on Bonnet. He's doing to her what he normally does to me; times ten. I don't know if it is because he genuinely missed her that much or if he knows she is here for a short time only.

They have always had a very close relationship, kindred spirits of a sort. This evening Bonnet taught Will how to bate and trap Winkels (our small dog) in a box. Don't get the wrong idea; Will has been setting traps for over a year. Just earlier today, he showed Bonnet how to trip Steve with a trap wire. She was showing him a more advanced form of entrapment. That's what big sisters are for right?

This morning, Lew and Dona met all five of us for lunch. Dona took the photo below of me and all three of my children. Not great of any of us; but it is a photo of all of us together. Happy times.

The Suicide Letter

We've known from the time we found out about Becky's death, that she had left a letter behind. Her roommate is illiterate and could not read it. As soon as the police showed up they took the letter in as evidence.

Byjo and Tim, Becky's son, have tried repeatedly to get a copy of the suicide letter over the last two months. Hoping, I am sure, for some closure. Some answers. Maybe even some assurance that they weren't to blame.

Monday, Byjo and Tim drove back to Tyler and talked to the detective over Becky's suicide again. This time he was able to release into their care the suicide letter as well as other personal items they had taken. And after hearing what the letter said, I am thankful it took so long to be released.

The majority of the letter was about the man Becky had been obsessed with. That is her story and there is no need for me to go into it. Of her family? Of those of us that have cried and fought to put our lives back together? To those that took out huge loans to pay the cost of her funeral? To those that helped her son and cleaned out her house and storage?

She said, "And don't give any of my stuff to my family. They never cared about me when I was alive and they won't care about me when I'm dead."

And of her only son?

She said, "... don't give any money to my family, or especially to Tim, as they'll just waist it on something."

It was shocking, sad, and maddening. But in the long run I have only one thing to say to her letter and the thoughts she expressed in it . . .


She wasn't sane when she committed suicide.
That's kind of the point, right?
So you can't take anything she said in her letter
to be her true opinion of her family or her life.


I am going to continue to think of her as my same old sister. The one that loved me. That thought of me. That called me. That knew I would do anything for her she needed.

The letter, that I'll forget.

Happy Birthday to You!

Today would have been my sister Becky's 38th birthday. She killed herself two months ago. The approach of her birthday has been very hard for me and I decided early on that I would make a pilgramage to Brady and her grave site on her birthday.

I purchased a couple of nice vases with roses prearranged in them, as I have no ability to arrange flowers at all, and I took everything to secure them on either side of her grave.

Steve and Will accompanied me on the trip and help me set up the flowers. I asked Steve to take Will to the park and play and leave me there alone for half an hour or so, and he did.

Becky's grave is right next to a small tree. I set with the tree against my back, facing the head of her grave. The wind was blowing constantly, whipping my hair into my face and making the wind chimes in the tree sing constantly. It was hot and I kicked off my shoes and tilted my head up towards the sun. Closing my eyes and allowing the warmth of the sun to touch my face. I dug my left hand into the fresh dirt over the edge of Becky's casket and just allowed my grief out.

At first I cried. I told her how sorry I was that I hadn't visited more often. What a sorry sister I was that I didn't even remember exactly how old she was; I thought she was going to be 37. I complained about facing my old age without her there with me.

Then I just sit. The tears fell a while longer. Unseen by prying or concerned individuals. I didn't have to "put on" a face or pretend I was okay. I just grieved.

Then I talked to her like she was really there. Well, actually she is . . . just not really capable of hearing me. I told her about my book I was writing, Bonnet's visit, how well Tim was doing. I told her I was looking for an angel for her grave site and a bench while I was at it. Pondered the likely hood of who would eventually buy her a gravestone and what they'd put on it.

Then I read her the end of the book I had with me. Not that it was a special book, just a novel I was currently reading. Becky and I always shared our love of reading.

Then I just sit. I allowed the quite to seep into my soul. The earth to heal me. The wind to dry my tears. The wind chime to fill my head with music.

By the time Steve and Will came by, 45-minutes later, I was ready to say goodbye. I put on my shoes, dusted off my pants, gathered my drink and book and climbed into the car without looking back.

Becky may never know I was there for her on her birthday, but I do.

Happy birthday Becky.

Update on Wolf Cub blog

If you've been following my writing of Wolf Cub during the month of Novemeber, you know I have had it posted in it's own blog. I deleted the chapters tonight and removed the "adult" limitation on it.

I am going to leave the blog up to document the process as I attempt to get Wolf Cub published. Each new step, obsticle, advance made will be discussed. So feel free to check in every once in a while and see how it's going.

I definately need to beef up the books some and as I write new chapters or sections, I will post them for you gusy to check out.

A link to the Wolf Cub blog is located on the right of the screan.

Pattern Review in Parent:Wise -- Austin Magazine

I received my copy of Parent:Wise today. Last month I contacted them about testing one of my patterns for their "Cool or Crummy" column. I didn't expect to end up in the Crummy list, but you just never know. Not a peep out of anyone, so I had no clue until I picked it up today. And it's wonderful.

Keep in mind that the following text occupies about 1/6 of a page and has a color photos of my products on it as well. And it's FREE. Yeah!

Here is their comment on my pattern(s) in it's entirety:

Soft-Sole Shoe & Boot Patterns
www.MakeThemYouself.com -- $9
You know those adorable soft-soled leather baby shoes with the cute designs -- the ones that cost an arm and a leg? Well, why not make your own and give'em away to your favorite mama friends for the holidays? Local mama, Misty Marquardt, has designed several simple patterns that make it easy to sew your own leather baby shoes and boots. When finished, the shoes look exactly like the expensive ones you buy in the fancy baby stores -- actually, even better, because you can customize the designs. If you use recycled leather (for instance, buying a used leather jacket at a thrift store) you can make tons of shoes very inexpensively. Misty's patterns are cheap, can be sent to you via email, and are easy to follow, even in you're not an expert seamstress. She has a slew of other patterns available, too (including mama shoes, nursing pillows, shopping cart covers and nursing cover ups), so get out your sewing machine and start whipping up some gifts!

Thanksgiving down, one more holiday to go

I was super depressed about Thanksgiving before hand; espeically so the day before. But a ton of alcohol, some personal time with my family, and a full-night sleep made a huge difference in my attitude.

I got up the next morning and did that woman thing; you know what I mean. That thing we do when we don't really want to go somewhere but have to. And we have to look like we're enjoying our selves.

I fixed my hair, put on a ton of makeup, found the best fitting clothes I had, and smiled until my face hurt.

Between the free flowing wine, forced gaiety, and having Sam around to give me something else to concentrate on . . . I actually enjoyed myself.

As always at my father-in-laws, the food was good, the wine was excelent, and the company was enjoyable. Paul's wife, Sam, and their 9-month old daughter, Lily, joined us this year. And I really enjoyed the opportunity to get to know both of them better.

But I haven't managed to snag even a hint of Christmas Spirit yet. And Steve is trying; whether for me or Will I'm not sure. But he's taken us driving to look at lights twice, we walked through Targets Christmas stuff yesterday, and he turned on the lights out lining the house last night.

You'll note I didn't say he hung the lights; because they've been handing for the last 3 or 4 years. You know your a redneck, when . . .

I've been saying, "I'll put up the tree after I get a chance to clean the house."

But now that my book is finished I have the time and find I just don't have the spirit. In the famouse words of most small children, "I don't wanna'a!"

Steve, the man who never helps with housework, spent hours yesterday cleaning on the house. Trying to get me to the point of putting up the tree? I think so. Or, maybe he's tired of living in a stinky house.

Regardless, I fight an internal battle all day long regarding trying to have some holiday spirit for Will and knowing how much putting up even the tree will hurt this year.

I expect the tree will go up this week, wheather I want it to or not. I am a mother, and what mother doesn't enjoy seeing her 4 year olds joy in a fully lit and decorated Christmas tree? I'm just not looking forward to it. Maybe a should stop and pick me up a little holiday "spirit" while I'm out today. A nice fire, some Baileys Irish Creame, some hoilday music . . . something got to help.

Package out to Paul in Iraq

Considering my brother has severed 6 years over seas, previously. And that this is his fourth stay in Iraq, you might assume I would be familiar with sending him packages . . . not so.

I'm really the worst long-distance communicator EVER. I don't write, I don't call, and I don't send packages. I do occasionally email, sort of.

Anyway, I am determined to do better this time and I've been writing him semi-regularly. Hey! It's better than never.

I also just prepared my first package to send to him; I'm mailing it off later today. Like the computer nut I am, I researched online and questioned his wife before making a list of things to send. I included most, but not all of the things on his list as well.

I managed to fill one of the USPS flat rate box for army base boxes. And, I managed to spend around $90. I'm setting there looking at the box going, "What the hell!"

But I sent him magazines, eye drops, lotions, lip balms, most of the food and drink things he asked for, a puzzle magazine, some hacky sack balls, as many packages of non-scented wet ones as I could fit in the box, and a collapsable toilet.

The toilet will not fit in the box, so that will be a second package I have to mail out. Do you think I can consider that a new package . . . you know in that I've now sent Paul two packages? Or is it just part B of the first package? Can't blame a girl for asking. Or, an old woman either. LOL

Anyway, for the first time, Paul is not actually stationed on an Army base in Iraq. He is stationed on an Iraq base, as an Army support personel. This means the quality of his living environment is VERY different that has been previously.

So if you, or your family, want to send a soldier in Iraq a letter or gift package this year; feel free to send on to Paul. He's 30, the father of two boys (around 9 and 11) and a 9-month old daughter. He's normally stationed in Texas, but will in Iraq for the next year.

You can mail your letters or packages to:

SGR Estrada, Paul
268th NSC, 504th BFSB
FOB Sykes
APO AE-09351

If you do send a package, please check out the flat rate Military Discount boxes offered by the post office. They are 50% larger than other boxes of the same price range ($10.95) and pretty much no weight limit.

Have a great December and remember that it should be about family; not the gifts, the expense, the lights, or the parties.