My mama-san

I realized today that I haven't posted anything about my dear, sweet Mom. Mama-san. Teresita. Miss Guam. I have to brag--my mom is beautiful. She was a model and was Miss Guam back in the days before Miss Universe or Miss World. I have to write a list of all the things I love about this woman.

She is selfless. She always gives more than she receives and has a huge heart.

She loves her grandsons more than she loves me (kidding...well, maybe not). They are such a joy to her and it is obvious to everyone.

She is one of the best cooks in the world. She invents recipes and never writes them down and when you ask how she did it she will say, "Oh, it was an experiment."

She has a cute Guamanian accent. It's funny because people always used to say that about her and I would think, "She doesn't have an accent. She talks just like I do." Then I went to college and called her and it hit me. The woman has an accent!

She is very stylish and always likes to buy clothes and shoes for her loved ones. Ninety percent of the shoes I have are from her. She has more shoes than Emelda Marcos did back in the day.

She is from a family of 15 kids. My Nana would have had 20 kids had it not been for five miscarriages she had. Huge family. Mom will say it was because they didn't have tv back then. ;)

She eats rice on a daily basis and misses it if for some strange reason she doesn't. That's a Pacific Islander for you!

She loves to go the casinos to gamble. The slots are her thing. She can stay up until 4:00am if she is at the casino. We are hoping to take her to Vegas for her next birthday.

She has one of the most illuminating smiles I have ever seen.

She and I had a "Thelma and Louise" kind of trip when I moved back from Seattle. She flew up, helped me pack and we drove home. It was an adventure and one I won't forget.

She was very strict when we were growing up. I did my best to do what was right because the wrath of Teresita would greet me otherwise. She kept me in line and I am grateful for that.

My Mom is caring, sweet, loving, strong, stubborn, funny and wise. I love her for all that she is.

Least favorite words....

If you know me well you know I don't like the word 'moist.' Yuck. I hate the sound and the way your mouth forms when saying the word. I know that sometimes there is no other way to describe something but to say it is ----- but I would prefer to not say it at all. I would rather say things are damp. But cake can't be damp--that's not appetizing.

So I was driving the boys the other day and somehow the word 'slogan' was brought up. Here is the conversation that transpired:

Cooper: I don't like that word. Slogan. It's a dumb word.

Grayson: I know a couple of other words you don't like--yummy in my tummy! (laughing)

Cooper: Yeah, I don't like slogan, yummy or tummy. And another one--boo boo!

Me: What??? (honking and wheezing laughter ensues to the point I can barely breathe!) You don't like 'boo boo?' As in 'I have a boo boo' ?

Cooper: Yeah, I don't like that word. Boo boo. A stupid word!

Me (Still laughing and slapping the steering wheel I am laughing so hard)

Grayson: You know what word I don't like. Turd. Your mouth only makes one shape and your lips stay the same. It's a gross word!

Me (Still laughing--no sound is coming from my mouth that is wide open)

Cooper: Mom, calm down. Mom, stop laughing. Mom, put it out of your mind so you stop laughing.

Grayson: Slogan-yummy-tummy- boo boo- moist- turd!!! (laughing)

Cooper: Mom, please stop laughing! You are gonna wreck the car!

Me (tears rolling down my face from laughing so hard)

I can't believe my boys have words they dislike just like I do. Ken dislikes the word panties. "It's underwear." is what he will say. The apples aren't falling too far.....

I am not good at this....

It's been several months since my last post. I have had a lot on my mind and many things going on. I will list out some things as they come to mind--in no particular order.

We went to Colorado for vacation. It was wanted and needed. I was excited and terrified. Excited for a change in scenery but terrified to leave my mom behind. More on the mom part later.

I have been busy with work, doing a project from home. They have asked me to work on this through March 2011. I am thrilled! To think that a year ago I thought it was the end of my career at the card factory and here I am...plugging away, "enriching lives." :) Things really do work out as they should.

The boys are back at school. It's been good so far but I could do without the homework and the early mornings. I was not ready for summer to be over. I like the freedom that summertime allows--late bedtimes, no structure, no homework, pool time, flip flops. Back to school...boo. I won't tell them that though.

I still miss my dad. I am tearing up just typing that. My heart and mind ache to hear his voice, listen to some of his advice and his famous (or infamous) stories. Some days I think I am doing better and some days I am back to square one. I was cleaning out my jewelry box the other day and found my gold dolpin necklace that my dad gave me in 1991. I used to wear it every day--never took it off. Not for bed. The shower. Working out. It was on non-stop. I can't remember why I stopped wearing it now. Maybe it is because I wear silver constantly now. Who knows? When I found it, I burst into sobs. Big, tearful sobs. Part of me wants to put that necklace on again and the other part of me is afraid the sobs will start up when I see it on me. I will try it on soon.

Grayson is now on a competitive swim team. He loves it and he looks like he is a pretty strong swimmer. I know my dad would love it. He swam in high school, college and for the Navy. He taught me to swim. The other day at practice there was a little girl there in a t-shirt that read "Navy Swimming." I did a double take because I thought it was an Old Navy shirt at first. It wasn't and I took that as a sign that he was there. There watching his oldest grandson pound some waves into that pool.

I worry about my mom. She is not sleeping well and I know she is lonely. I had lunch with her yesterday. She is wearing my dad's ring with the Navy wings on her ring finger. That breaks my heart. My friend, Julie, thinks it is a good thing for her to be able to do that. I just think it's sad. It's like she can't wear her wedding ring anymore because her husband is gone but she can't leave it empty either. I am worried about her all the time. Hoping she is healing. Hoping she is resting. Hoping she is finding some peace. Hoping she is safe because I don't know what I will do if anything happens to that amazing woman. It shakes me to my core to think about it.

I know that this blogging thing should be good for me. And someone like me likes to talk to it would be a good avenue to unload my thoughts without boring people to death. I need to make the time.

I know this sounds like I am drowning in a sea of melancholy. I'm not. I am living a pretty happy life. I have some supportive friends that get me through. I have a great husband who makes me laugh and is understanding. I have beautiful healthy boys that I love with every ounce of me. I am grateful. I am happy. I am pretty lucky.

I'll be seeing you.....love.

Blog revisited

I began this blog with the intention of recording my memories as a mother of two boys. I have decided to expand the coverage of this blog. As most of you know, I lost my dear, sweet Dad on March 8th of this year. It has been painful. Heartbreaking and filled with tears. I love him and miss him more than I can ever put into words. Fortunately for me (but unfortunately for them) I have a husband and some close friends who have lost their dads so they know what I am dealing with and have been a tremendous support. They have told me that I am not crazy for crying at the drop of a hat. That it is normal for a song or a smell or a phrase can cause my head and heart to zoom in on my Dad and make me want to climb under my covers and cry some more. I told my husband that I feel like I have too much going on in my head that has to get out somehow. That memories of Dad or my feelings about him need to have a place. So this is going to be my avenue. This will not be completely dedicated to the boys anymore. This will be my memories overall. The boys. My Dad. My Mom. My friends. I will stop by here from time to time to write about various things that pop into my head. Here's the first:

It was a sunny Sunday on the island of Oahu. I was 5 yrs old. It was a habit of our family to go to church, go have brunch and then we would drive around the island. It was paradise so why not take in all the scenic routes? That day we stopped at the Kahala Hilton. It's a gorgeous hotel that had dolphins that lived there and would swim up to lower hotel balconies for a visit. There was a bridge that went over this lagoon filled with dolphins. There were no rails. I took off over the bridge-much to my Dad's dismay because I could not swim. I stopped in the middle and a dolphin popped out of the water. She stayed in front of me and started "talking" to me. I talked back to her, "Hello, Willie! How are you today?" Not sure where Willie came from and I obviously didn't know she was a she. I started walking around the lagoon and that dolphin followed me everywhere. She swam everywhere I went. There were other people there that could have distracted her but she never left me. She had a pink belly and her dorsal fin had a couple of knotches in it. It was like she had been bitten or in an accident. That was how we distinguished her from the other dolphins. Those were her identifying marks. We stayed about an hour and then went home, feeling like I had made a new friend.

That week in the paper my dolphin was pictured. Her name was not Willie. It was Nihoa which means "jagged" because of her fin. I was very excited that my friend was a celebrity in the paper! We went back Sunday after Sunday and Nihoa always came to me. My Dad would retell this story and he would always say, "It was like magic. Watching you with Nihoa was magical." So Dad nicknamed me after my aquatic friend. He would call me Nihoa from then on. Almost every letter or card from him was addressed to Nihoa Houston. Thinking about it now it feels like a dream. Like something magic. An unusual friendship that sparked a loving nickname that lasted long after we moved away from Oahu.