Blankies and Gwankies

My kids are all blanket babies. When they were toddlers, they all found comfort in a blanket that was special to them. And now...

I'll tell Janine's story first, since she is the oldest. She loved a white waffled blanket with satin binding around the edges. She loved that blanket and couldn't sleep without it. That particular blanket has been replaced a couple of times, but now she has even more blankets that she keeps in her bed. Unlike her siblings, and probably mostly because she is older, her blankets stay in her bed. However, she HAS TO HAVE at least one to sleep. Even on sleepovers, one blanket will go with her.

Sami still has her "yellow blankie", which is like Janine's, but yellow. And she calls is "yellow blankie". My mother had to rock her to sleep the entire weekend that she, at the age of 3, left yellow blankie at the preschool. Oh, she cried, and cried, and cried. She still takes yellow blankie in the car to school some mornings, although the blanket doesn't go into school with her anymore. Yes, I said anymore. For much of kindergarten and first grade, yellow blankie went to school each day, happily remaining in her back pack. It gave her peace of mind, so why fight it. Every night though we have to search for yellow blankie, because it travels around the house with her. Grrr.

Thomas chose one of his flannel swaddling blankets for his blankie. He loved it so. Unfortunately, his "gwankie" as he used to call it, completely fell apart and is now in pieces. He won't let me throw away the pieces, but he doesn't sleep with them anymore. Instead, he now sleeps with his blue blanket that is like Janine and Sami's. Gotta have the satin binding! Blue blankie travels around the house with Thomas, but doesn't leave the house. And unlike his siblings, Thomas can and does sleep without it. He leaves it somewhere, and sometimes we just can't find it.

So why am I talking about blankies? I had one too. I swiped the (pink of course) blanket off my bed. Of course it had satin binding. Mom replaced the binding many, many times. I called it "my rubbing" because I always rubbed my fingers on the binding as Sami does with yellow blankie. I kept my blanket until the tiny little hole that developed in it was big enough to stand in. I must have been 9 or 10 years old, because we lived in Wooster.

Anyway, the other day when I wasn't feeling great, Thomas offered me his blue blanket. I figured I would be cute and take it. I couldn't find it, however, so I took a different blanket from his bed. It has one side that is all satin. I napped with the blanket that day, and well, it's still in my bed. ;-)

Sometimes I just can't send Reiki

Many of you have heard me speak of Reiki. In layman's terms, Reiki is the process of taking the energy that exists around us everyday, pulling it into the practitioner's body, and directing it out through the practitioner's hands. Reiki can be done fully clothed, although I have heard of it being done with the recipient unclothed (I wouldn't do it that way), and in person or across time and distance.

I am a Reiki Master, although I have never really done sessions on non-family members or taught classes. One of the things I often do is "send" or direct energy to a person over distance and time, meaning that I don't have to place my hands on that person, nor do I have to even be near them. I send Reiki to a lot of people, sometimes it is at their request and sometimes I just see the need (the person can subconsciously reject the energy if it is truly unwanted).

Reiki doesn't have an agenda, nor will it take on the practitioner's agenda. The energy will help the person as it is needed most. I can't make Reiki tackle someone's migraines, for example, but I can direct the energy to the person's head or whole body. I should mention that Reiki isn't a quick fix, either. One session probably won't eliminate a migraine, but it may relax muscles and make that migraine a little less awful. Cancer is another beast entirely. Reiki can ease the pain and stress on the body of a cancer patient, but I have never seen anyone "cured". Another thing Reiki does is ease the transition from life to death by helping the person to be more at peace. This is where I run into problems.

Sometimes, when I know someone is really ill, I just don't want that person to die (don't we all feel that way at times?). I love that person, I will miss that person, it will hurt if that person is gone, and I don't want to see the family grieve. I try to set that aside most of the time since it's really not my call whether a person lives or dies, and most of us don't want to see our loved ones in pain, so I know that Reiki will help them. However, there are times when I just can't do it. I just can't send that person Reiki. Those are the days I give myself lots of Reiki, hoping that I can come to terms with life and everything it entails. Blessed be.

It's All in the Song Titles

Yesterday, I was in the car listening (on my iPhone) to songs that start with C. It all started because Janine likes the song "The Chauffeur" by Duran Duran. At least I think that is the version she likes. Anyway, she wanted to listen to it on the way to school. OK fine. But then I wanted to hear the Deftones version, which they made for a Duran Duran tribute. All my kids were at school by then, which is why I had time to think, after all. So here are some random thoughts.

There is no cohesive theme to the songs on my iPhone that begin with the letter C. In fact, I had to skip a number of Native American tribal flute songs that I wasn't in the mood to listen to. Hmmm, perhaps THAT is the theme - all tribal flute song titles should begin with the letter C???

I'm wondering if I should finally change my ringtone from "Self Esteem" by The Offspring to "Coming Undone" by Korn. Nah, not yet anyway.

I need more songs by Duran Duran on my phone.

Maybe it's time to put more music by The Cure on my phone. They still are quite cool, if one is in the proper mood (a non-head-banging, non-tribal flute-listening kind of mood).

The songs I have that start with the word "Don't" make me look like love-sick psycho something. Perhaps my music is a true reflection???


The most common first word of song titles in my music library is "I". I won't list them all, because again I would probably come across as more than a little crazy.


I still can't really listen to Enya. Too much of that in the L&D room when Janine was refusing to be born. Maybe she & I needed the tribal flute music instead. Or songs that started with the word "Don't".


If I didn't laugh, I would cry. A lot. I don't look good when I cry. Many of you know that I'm not all that vain, so for me to say that, I must look pretty bad when I cry...

Random Musings Brought to You by the Letter B

Today, on the way back from one of my many trips to the Girl Scouts store in Randolph (ugh), I was listening to songs that began with the letter B. Here are some resulting thoughts:

1) Michael Hutchens - what a waste.

2) I seem to be focused on Black things and Blood in my B songs - Black & White (INXS), Black Coffee in Bed (Squeeze), Black Dog (Led Zepellin), Blood & Thunder (Mastodon), The Bloodletting (Concrete Blond), Blue Blood Blues (The Dead Weather - think Jack White)

3) I HAVE the ways and means to New Orleans, but no desire to go there at the moment. If I need to go down to the river where it's warm and green, walk around, and think, I can go to the Passaic. It's much closer and cheaper. And less hot.

4) I have been obsessed with witches and vampires for a very long time.

5) Head Show - what a funny name. Everyone in Chatham knows what it is, too. Not after this year though. The heads are often disturbing, so part of me is not bothered by this.

6) There are many other things I should be doing right now instead of typing these out. Bye!

Shop Vac, or My Life Cracks Me Up With Its Ironies

Yesterday, when Janine managed to shatter a Corelle bowl in the dining room before school, I used my Shop Vac to clean up the sharp little shards. I noticed then that the Shop Vac didn't have much suction. I didn't feel like emptying it then, so I left it out for today. I just went to dump it, and oh did I ever dump it - just not into the garbage like I meant to. I set it at the top of my outside steps by the gate and went to get a garbage bag from the garage. Down the steps it went, dumping all the dust and Corelle shards right onto the steps and driveway. Those shards are pointy, and I don't want to drive over them, so I had to pick them up as best I could and then clean up with a broom to the best of my ability. I am now coated with the dust (from our bathroom construction???). I can feel the dust on my skin, my eyelashes, my hair, and in my nose. Yuck! And, by the way, now I need to vacuum off my Shop Vac which is also coated in dust. Ha!

Jesus

It was recently brought to my attention that I have not shared enough of my Jesus stories. No, not THAT Jesus. The Jesus who was my neighbor in Boerum Hill, Brooklyn. Yes, the haunted apartment in Boerum Hill, but that's another entry (did I write that one yet?).

I asked Jesus once if I should call him "hay-soos", and he said no. His name was Jesus ("gee-sus"). OK then, Jesus it is.

Jesus was an older man, obviously of Hispanic origin, but I don't know where he was born. And did I mention that he only had 1 tooth, as far as I could tell? Yes, Jesus had one tooth.

I didn't interact much with Jesus. I kept to myself for the most part. The neighborhood wasn't that great, but it was on its way up. There really wasn't anything to do in my neighborhood though, and no local hang out that I would have found, much less frequented. My apartment was tiny, but it was just me and Stasia (my cat), so it didn't matter. Mark was often around too. One day, Jesus knocked on my door and gave me a mango. I bet you can't say that Jesus gave you a mango. I never did figure out WHY he gave me a mango. I didn't even like mangoes back then, so I'm pretty sure I tasted it then tossed it into the garbage. Jesus wasted a mango on me.

At some point, Jesus stopped working. I assumed he retired. I didn't see him much after that. Then one day, I found out why. Yeah. The neighbor found him, quite dead, because he smelled. Obviously Jesus didn't have a lot of friends checking in on him, and he'd been there for awhile. I think he essentially drank himself to death once he stopped working.

By talking with the neighbor who found him and the building superintendent, I learned that Jesus had quite a collection of girlie magazines in his apartment. So Jesus drank himself to death and was into porn. Kind of lends a whole new light on the phrase "What would Jesus do?", now doesn't it!?! This Jesus would have done anything. Even give a struggling young woman a mango.

Where DOES he get these ideas?

A few days ago, Thomas and Janine collided. This isn't an unusual occurrence really, but this time they hit HARD. Janine's mouth and Thomas' head hit together and Janine's teeth took the brunt of the hit. Her mouth was sore, so out came an ice pack (our freezer is filled with ice packs because someone who will remain nameless is always getting hurt). I think Janine's top front teeth were a little loose afterward. Thomas was SO upset. He was crying more than Janine. Nothing we said was consoling him.

It took us awhile to find out why HE was so upset when it was Janine's mouth that was affected. Then Thomas started whining about how he didn't WANT Janine to get a gold tooth. He was convinced that her loose teeth were going to fall out, and be replaced with gold ones. Huh?