Category: Junk Drawer

Ellie the Elephant

~ Lenore Diane ~ 1 Comment
My beloved 'Ellie the Elephant'

My boss is in the midst of Project Clean Sweep. She and her family are going through all their things, passing the good to charity and the bad to trash. I am helping with the project, recycling what can be recycled and taking the donations to the various organizations accepting what they have to offer.

Now, this may sound silly to some, but I am certain some of you will be able to relate to what I am about to discuss. You see, my boss has a 13yr old daughter. And, this girl has gathered quite a collection of stuffed animals over her 13yrs. But, she has also come to a point where she is ready to let go of some of her animals. Getting to the point of being ready to let go wasn’t easy for her. A few tears were shed, when she realized she had to literally pick the ones to send away. And, she really felt like she was sending them away. Because, to this 13yr old girl, these were more than stuffed animals. These animals were her friends.

She would talk to the animals; and, in her mind, the animals would talk to her. As far as she was concerned, she was Andy from Toy Story. Unlike Andy, however, she knew her animals were alive. She wanted to make sure her animals were going to be loved as much as she loved them. She remembered the Goodwill scene in Toy Story II, where Jessie sits on the shelves, lonely and sad. This 13yr old girl didn’t want her animals to be sad.

When my boss shared this story with me, she asked me if I thought that was silly. I think I surprised my boss when I said I didn’t find it silly. In fact, I shared a story of my own with my boss. Because, like her daughter, I believed my animals were alive. ‘I LeMutt adore you’, ‘Winston’, ‘Elliot – Pete’s Dragon’, the Snuggle bear from the Snuggle Fabric Softner commercial and of course, ‘Ellie the Elephant’. I have others, but those five meant the most to me. One day I left the house without Ellie, that was not a good day.

With absolutely no embarrassment I share the following story: My parents spent the Summers in Amherst, Nova Scotia. My mom would drive from GA to Amherst and stay the full Summer. In August, my Dad would fly up and drive back with us. During the Summer of 1982, I was 13. My Mom and I left the house and headed North. I remember driving through a city in South Carolina when I realized what I had done. I was frozen. My heart sank, and I didn’t know how I was going to manage. Then a song came on the radio, “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” by Chicago. I sobbed. Sobbed. Why? Because I realized I left Ellie – my prized Ellie the Elephant at home. Ellie and I would be separated for over two months. And, in my heart, I sang (and sobbed) the song ‘Hard to Say I’m Sorry’ to Ellie. A long distance dedication, if you will. (giggle) And, I believed that Ellie was sad, too.

I am happy to say I made it through the Summer without Ellie. And, I am thankful I had younger cousins, so I could borrow one of their stuffed animals to get me through. [Insert Barry Manilow’s ‘Made it Through the Rain’ Here]  And, when I got home, you bet your bottom dollar, I hugged Ellie for a very long time.

My boys have their favorite stuffed animals, and I suspect they will keep them close for years to come. I will certainly encourage my boys to give to charity, especially if  their zoo of stuff animals ever becomes overcrowded. And, I don’t know that my boys will still be clinging to their stuffed animals when they reach the age of 13. But, I do know I will let them cling to their special friend as long as they want.

Where is ‘Ellie the Elephant’, you ask? He’s on my bed.

Predictable Patterns

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

It’s that time of the month again. And, yes, I am writing about it. I am fairly certain I am not the only blogger going down this road. And, if writing about it makes me happy and less cranky, I’m guessing my husband would love for me to write about it every day. (Especially, if it keeps me from hounding him about the water ring on the counter, the socks on the floor, the radio blaring, the shoes … well, you get my drift.)

I am not here to tell you WHY we women get so ding-dang moody once a month; I’m just here to tell you that I am one of many. And, I am going to use this here blog to release the hormones that can ruin the moods of my family or increase the size of my waist. Seriously. Why do I crave ice cream more towards the start of things vs. any other time? It is crazy people, crazy.

Last night, while eating supper as a family (which we do every night), I was laughing with the boys. We were being very silly, giggling and telling knock-knock jokes. [Note: Knock-knock jokes with the boys (ages 3 and 5) are made-up and rarely make sense. Example: ‘Knock-knock. Who’s there? Tree. Tree who? Tree blah blah bloo’.] The three of us were having a blast. My husband was just smiling and watching us be crazy. Suddenly. The hormones hit.

Out of nowhere, I yelled at the boys and told them to be quiet and calm down. Ok. I didn’t really yell, but I did become a distant cousin to the chick from The Exorcist. PMS overcame me, and I was done. I couldn’t get the table cleared and the boys off to the tub fast enough. And by ‘off to the tub’ I mean, I passed – ok – threw them to my husband. He is in charge of bathing the boys. He lets them play more than I do; which means he lets them splash to the point that it looks like the toilet has overflowed. Ok. Maybe I am exaggerating a bit, but the floor is definitely wet after they take their bath.

So, the boys were in the tub, my husband was with the boys and I was left alone in the kitchen. I was able to clean the dishes, etc., losing myself with the running of water. “La La La La PMS! I can’t hear you with the water running!” I was able to keep the raging hormones at bay, though I admit I grumbled under my breath a few times as I had to wipe the table and place mats. ‘Grrr…. why are they so messy at meal time? Don’t they know to push their chair under the table when they leave? Seriously. Can you not take your cup to the sink . . .’

Once the kitchen was tidy and dishes were cleaned, I could hear the mayhem in the bathroom. Can you hear the chilling music building in the background?! It is ridiculous how quick irritability can take over during the monthly patterns. I knew it was coming, and I did my best to keep the little monster in the cage. I knew the boys were having fun, and I knew my husband had things under control. And suddenly, (because it is always suddenly, isn’t it?) I heard whining. UGH! Whining and crying while battling PMS? Yeah, um, that’s not a good mix.

I counted to 10. I counted to 10 again. I counted to 50. I counted backwards. I did the hokey pokey and I turned myself around . . .  And then I went in to the bathroom and demanded everyone get out of the tub. My husband was sad. It was his turn with the boat, and he was about to sink it. (Ha. Kidding. He wasn’t in the tub. And, I must tell you, it cracks me up to write about how I lost it last night. I know it is ridiculous when it happens. Still, PMS is a boogah of a boogah.) So, the boys got out of the tub, got dressed and brushed teeth. And, peace was restored in the village. I sat down with the boys and read two books. My oldest asked for a 3rd book and I said – are you ready? – I said, “Sure.” Take THAT, PMS!

Rainy Day Rambling

~ Lenore Diane ~ Leave a comment

As I type, the Mid-Atlantic States are bracing for a winter storm. I have several friends and relatives in the area getting hit. Days like today, I wish we had cable, so I could switch between the cable news networks and the weather channel. I am such a geek when it comes to weather.

Wait. What was that I just heard? Ah yes. Several of you just clicked to another blog. *sigh* There aren’t enough weather lovers in the world.

[A friend of mine in Gaithersburg, MD just called me. The snow is starting to fall. She was describing how her youngest daughter (42″ tall) has fun playing in the several inches of snow. Forecasters are predicting 24 – 30″ of snow. This little 42″ girl will be plowing through snow nearly her height. I love it!]

I am trying to focus on something clever about which to write, but my mind is distracted by the pending snow storm. As the insert above makes clear. It is funny though, because last night and this morning, my mind was busy with all sorts of things I was going to share with the blogosphere. Not only am I like Rosie O’Donnell (see post in Observations category), but I am like the fish Dory in Finding Nemo. I am so easily distracted by anything and everything, especially shiny things.

Last night I had dinner with a friend of mine. I know she is breathing a bit nervously now, as she may be reading this post. She really doesn’t want me to tell you about she takes medication daily for depression and trying to rebuild her marriage. Oh wait. No. Sorry. That’s me. You can exhale now friend. (smile) I won’t talk about our views on The Bachelor or Modern Family. Nope, that is strictly between us.

It is becoming clearer to me that being emotionally and mentally healthy requires so many pieces and parts. Now, when you are in the grips of depression it is difficult to take the steps you know deep down will help. But, if you one or two good days and just go for it on a leap of faith, it is amazing how much it can carry you. And, I type that out with a bit of hesitation, because I’ve been so low in the past. And, it is easy for me to talk about taking steps and actually making steps, when I am not in that black hole. If anyone is reading this and they are in a black hole, I hope you will check back here frequently. I will try to light a match for you, in hopes you find one day where you can take that leap of faith.

The medication I am taking has made a huge difference in my life. And, I believe it has really kicked in at this point. And blogging. Wow. Writing to an unknown world is cathartic for me. Couple that with having dinner with my friend of over 30yrs, and it creates a formula for recovery. Plus, the fact that my husband and I are talking actively again, and if we have a spat – it is merely that – a spat. Though, for the record, my voice may be as loud during a spat as it is during a full blown argument. In my opinion, a spat is a spat when the recovery time is less than an hour and the discussion stated on topic.

I called my mum today to talk about our plans for bowling tomorrow. I let her know that my husband may not be joining us for the bowling adventure, but I assured her if he didn’t join us it was due to a welding project he is trying to complete. Understandably, she gets concerned if my husband doesn’t take part in family events. She knows we’ve been struggling. After I assured her that my husband and I were doing better, she provided me with a bit of unsolicited advice. (Moms are good at giving unsolicited advice. All moms. Me included, thanks.)

I was happy to hear her advice. I was happier to let her know how things were going for us and our marriage. And, I was happy to inform her about my blogging, my visits with my bestest friend for over 30 years and my outlook. God willing, this outlook will continue. Much like losing weight, you’ve got to stay active to lose the weight and keep it off. I have to stay active to keep the depression demons at bay. And, I have to stay active to keep my marriage on a good path. So, this blog isn’t going to the wayside any time soon. I’m not sure I’ve shared anything of importance today, nor am I sure if I have entertained. Truth be told, it doesn’t matter. I feel better having shared my rainy day ramble.