family

The Spookiest Story I’ve Ever Heard

Posted on October 30, 2013 Written by Tonya

I don’t know about you, but I have already had my fill of candy corn. I can’t help it, I just can’t get enough of the sugary stuff!

The last time I “dressed up” for Halloween was a decade ago for a co-workers Halloween party and I was a very demure 50’s girl complete with poodle skirt, cardigan sweater, pigtails and Keds. Clearly, I’m not a big fan of this holiday. I do, however, love taking Lucas trick-or-treating (wait until you see his costume!) and his excitement over Halloween decorations is adorable.

I do find haunted houses, ghost stories, witches and fortune tellers intriguing, but I’m not overly comfortable with the macabre. There is a large part of me that believes in the afterlife, mediums and those who can communicate with the dead. I have visited several psychics over the years and not a Halloween goes by that I don’t think about a spooky story my grandmother and mother used to tell me.

I didn’t know my mother’s mother very well. We always lived far away from my grandparents and only saw them once a year. She died when I was in college. I do recall she was a heavy smoker, a loud talker, collected owl figurines, loved to sew and I will forever remember this story, the spookiest one I’ve ever heard.

Unfortunately, no one else in my family can verify this story and since neither my grandmother nor mother are with us any more, I choose to believe it’s true…

My grandmother was 15 and out shopping with a girlfriend and stumbled upon a fortune teller. For kicks, they decided to have their fortune told. My grandmother went first and the psychic told her the “standard”, you’ll marry someone tall, dark and handsome, to which my grandmother giggled and then promptly forgot.

When it was her friend’s turn, the fortune teller clammed up and became very jittery. She claimed that she couldn’t tell the girl’s fortune because nothing was “coming to her” and instead wrote something on a piece of paper and asked her to put the note in her shoe to read once she got home.

The two girls carried on with their day, had lunch, did more shopping and as they were heading home crossed a busy intersection. My grandmother’s friend was hit a car. She was instantly killed.

The note tucked in her shoe read, “you’ll never live to read this”.

I have never heard this story from anyone else so as far as I know, it is true. I’ve shared it many times over the years and it still send chills up and down my spine.

Wishing everyone a very happy and safe Halloween!

This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop, Prompt 2.) A spooky story someone once told you.

A version of this post entitled Fortune Teller originally appeared on Letters For Lucas on October 29, 2010.

Telling Lucas

Posted on September 16, 2013 Written by Tonya

I promise all of my posts will not be about be about being pregnant from now on, but this is one I had to write…

It was a conversation I wasn’t ready to have.

It was news I didn’t want to reveal for another few weeks.

I wanted to wait as long as possible… just in case. Anything could go wrong and how would we explain that?

It was going to forever change everything. For him and for our family.

Upon hearing our news, I imagined Lucas never looking at me in the same way again, full innocence and pure love.

I could almost envision him staring back at me/us with a look of horror in his eyes as if to ask, “how could you do this, we had such a good thing going?!”.

Telling Lucas that I was expecting a baby brought me so much anxiety I cried several times leading up to the dreaded conversation.

I researched recommended ways to tell your child you are expecting on the Internet and read them out loud to my husband. We took mental notes and practiced our dialogue. I sought advice from trusted friends and spoke to our pediatrician for her professional opinion.

No matter what his reaction, the bottom line was: we just had to do it. It was time.

Keep it simple, straightforward, upbeat and very positive.

I could do that.

Then why did the mere thought of sharing our news with our son, our first born and special boy make me break down in tears? Why did it instill such fear?

As much as I want a baby, a sibling for my son, I don’t want Lucas’ world to change and I don’t ever want him to think that Mommy and Daddy don’t have enough love for two children or more.

Over dinner, at 14 weeks 4 days we told Lucas that we some exciting family news, that he was going to be a big brother and his response was nothing like what I expected: “That’s awesome!” he exclaimed and then followed it up with lots of questions about how big my belly will get and if the baby is a boy or a girl, what the baby is doing right now, how big is the baby, when will the baby come out, and how will the baby come out. Admittedly some answers came easier than others. It was the best dinner conversation our family has ever had!

Lucas isn’t thinking any of the things I’d been fearing. I know he will eventually, but right now he’s too busy being overjoyed at the thought of being a big brother, making sure I’m eating healthy fruits and vegetables and kissing my belly.

It’s amazing how immediate love is.

Labor Day Weekend: Signs Of A Great Vacation

Posted on September 3, 2013 Written by Tonya

We love San Diego and have missed it desperately since we moved from North County to Orange County almost three years ago. We made a lot of wonderful memories (not to mention friends) in our little beach town of Leucadia and life in general is a lot more laid back in San Diego, so anytime we can get back there, we do! Luckily it’s only a one hour drive south.

We just spent four days in La Jolla as an end of summer, Labor Day weekend getaway and it was just what our family needed.

Our hotel room was steps from the beach, everything we needed was within walking distance and the sand, surf, sea life and sun were in abundance.

More signs of a great vacation:

1. I took a book that I didn’t open once because there was too many other things to do, like people watch, lounge in the sun, follow guitar fish up and down the beach and practice writing our name in the sand.

2. The only shoes I packed were flip flops, there was no make up worn and I left my flat iron at home.

3. When we unpacked, sand was everywhere, and I do mean everywhere, but I didn’t mind a bit.

4. The majority of our dirty laundry consists of bathing suits, towels and cover ups.

5. Tan lines.

6. We took the long way home just to make it last a little longer.

7. For four days someone couldn’t be dragged off the beach if his life depended on it.

8. That same someone fell asleep in the car on the way home.

9. We’re already planning our next visit.

10. We brought home good memories, great photographs and huge smiles.

Game Night

Posted on August 12, 2013 Written by Tonya

My friend, Alison of Writing, Wishing wrote a post last week for Mamalode called, Can We Just Play? about taking a break from all the screen time and being in the moment and well, playing. It brought back so many memories for me of playing games with my friends, cousins and especially mom and dad.

So many good memories of a simpler time, of real conversation and good old fashion fun.

As far back as I can remember, my parents hosted game nights and until I was old enough to play along, I would watch as the adults strategized, stole from the bank, bartered, became giddy with greed, displayed their fierce competitive streak and in equal measure, their admirable sportsmanship. They often got drunk and silly and always laughed the night away.

Playing games together was so much more than Monopoly, Risk, Trivial Pursuit, Acquire, UNO or 21 (all favorites in my family), it was a time to connect, share, bond and always beat staring at the television. Some of our very best family discussions occurred on game nights.

My mom always had a deck (or four, as 21 required) of cards on her and travel-sized versions of our best-loved games to take along on vacations, a practice I still keep. My husband and I brought Rummikub along with us on our honeymoon.

I have always loved playing board games and cards and I am trying to teach Lucas to love them too. We’ve been playing Go Fish, Crazy 8’s, Memory, High/Low, Candy Land, Connect 4 and Chutes & Ladders since he turned three. As soon as he turned four, I taught him how to play UNO (open-faced for now) and he’s really good at it! Just today, I bought Sorry, which he may be a little young for yet, but he enjoyed learning something new.

He’s not always a good sport, but after his opponent wins, nothing makes me prouder than hearing Lucas say, “That was a good game, Mommy, do you want to play again?” The answer is always an enthusiastic “Yes!”.

#ApartmentLiving

Posted on June 21, 2013 Written by Tonya

Remember a few weeks ago when I was bitching up a storm and said that I could provide an entire blog post about all the things I dislike about apartment living? Without further adieu….

The Top 10 Things I Dislike About #ApartmentLiving:

10. I’m 10 years too old for this shit! I’ve lived in my fair share of apartments (six to date beginning at age 20 in college) and it gets old real fast. There’s no privacy, lots of noise and very little space. I know it’s only temporary, but I’ve done my time in apartments and I’m over it!

9. We’re on the third floor with NO elevator (a fact that we did not learn until the day before we moved in)! Think groceries, sleeping child in the car and the transfer, etc.

8. No (personal) yard.

7. Limited storage space, resulting in not one but three separate storage units (don’t ask) including our one car garage.

6. No room for overnight guests (wait, is that really a bad thing?).

5. Our dishwasher is as big as a small Igloo ice chest, as in the size you bring to work for lunch so it gets run at least three times a week.

4. It is nearly impossible to find a parking spot after 9:30 at night. More than once I have had to park at least a 1/2 mile away from my front door.

3. We have a dog who refuses to use his porch potty (see #9).

2. We are constantly on Lucas’ case about his noise level and romping around, which is so unfair to him. He’s four and a boy and loud!

1. I mentioned the noise level, but the fights we overhear, yelling at the TV during major sporting events and pretty much constant barking dogs can really make one go crazy.

I digress… It’s not all bad! I can’t believe it’s already been three months. We have awesome swimming pools, a state of the art gym, free weekly yoga class, maintenance staff that responds quickly and we’re all together. At the end of the day, it really doesn’t matter where we live as long as we have that.

But, I’m still counting down. I have a countdown calendar running on my phone and as of this very minute, we only have 132 days left.

Provided we can find a house!!

This Dog

Posted on May 15, 2013 Written by Tonya

I wanted another baby, but got a puppy instead.

I have often wondered what the hell I was thinking!

Lucas helped name him Charlie Pasta.

This dog.

This beautiful dog and I first locked eyes when Charlie was just 23 days old. Back then he was named Logan (he is so NOT a Logan). He came home with us 45 days later and has been a bona fide member of our family ever since. Charlie has tested my patience in more ways than my son and I am not kidding. There have been many days that this dog was lucky to live through.

Puppies are a lot of work and this particular breed is no different. Brittany’s are equal parts energetic, cute and smart. I am really wishing I had known how energetic! As a bird dog, Charlie is always on high alert sniffing out EVERYTHING!! He has a difficult time relaxing, loves having a task, enjoys taking very l o n g walks and his favorite place to be is in the center of our king size bed; on the sheets not on the comforter. Watching him pull the comforter down is hilarious.

I like to compare Charlie to an obsessive boyfriend, always wanting/needing to be right by my side. I like him laying under my feet as I write, but often will trip over him the second I get up because he will too.

Charlie Pasta loves Lucas, tolerates me and ADORES my husband. Yeah, the guy that refused to get a dog has a canine BFF.

I’ve written about Charlie Pasta before here and here and here and have posted tons of photos all over the interwebs.

I can’t believe our puppy turns a year old on June 1. You better believe there will be a dog-friendly cake, lots of treats and pats, a new chew toy or two and if he’s lucky, I’ll pull the comforter back for him.

This post was written for Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop Prompt #1: Introduce a pet.

Things I Wish We Could Talk About

Posted on April 20, 2013 Written by Tonya

Not a day goes by that I don’t think of something I wish I could talk to my parents about. I regret not truly thanking them for my life. Literally. And all the opportunities they gave me. I wish I had expressed my gratitude for being good parents, staying together, teaching me right from wrong, showing me the world, bailing me out a time or two and for my sister. I can only hope they knew how much I loved and respected them.

But it’s the everyday stuff that I wish we could talk about.

I long to share the daily funny things Lucas says and does, seek counsel on the big decisions my husband and I face, relive the warm and wonderful childhood I enjoyed and learn more about the people they were.

The list is endless, but first and foremost, I wish I knew more about my mother’s fertility. I’d like to ask her if she and my father really decided to wait almost 12 years before having my sister or if she had struggles conceiving too. I remember her saying her mother had miscarried but I don’t know the details and I should.

So many times, Lucas will do something that reminds me of myself at his age and I’ll wish I could confirm the memory with my mother. I have a whole set of memories that don’t include my sister because for so long it was just the three of us, Mom, Dad and me. A lot of those memories are fading now.

I wonder how my father would react to having a President in the White House that I simply adore. He was a staunch republican and we would have heated discussions about gun control, a woman’s right to choose and same sex marriage all the time. He was “old school” and would be the first to admit that he just didn’t “get it”. I think my dad would have respected Obama, especially this week.

As educators, I wonder what they both would have thought about teenagers shooting up elementary schools and igniting bombs in public places, hurting innocent people, killing children. My father loved Boston and rooted for both the Red Sox and Celtics. I think he would have been glued to the television yesterday and like so many of us, devastated and confused.

I didn’t know my grandparents on either side very well and I’m sorry that I didn’t ask more questions about them when I had the chance. I also should have taken the opportunity to ask more questions about my parents childhoods, what they dreamed of when they were children and if they if had any inkling that they would make a success life overseas.

I would love to talk to my dad about the book he wrote and published and hear about his writing process. Perhaps it would help me with mine.

In so many ways time has stood still since my mother and father’s deaths almost six years ago and I know I’ll be collecting discussion points for the rest of my life; things I wish we could talk about. Current events, parenting advice and family history aside, honestly I’d talk about the weather with either of them if I could.

My People

Posted on February 19, 2013 Written by Tonya

It was almost 5 1/2 years ago and many details of that day remain fuzzy.

I’ll always regret not standing up to say anything. At the time, there were no words, but still I should have thanked everyone for coming and declared my love for my parents publicly.

Sometimes I’ll hear one of the songs my sister and I so painstakingly selected as the soundtrack for that miserable event on the radio and I’ll smile a bittersweet smile.

I know I’ll never forget all the people that were in attendance. We thought maybe a dozen would show up and instead the chapel was full.

When your family and friends are with you during your worst day you tend to look at them a little differently.

Any disagreement you’ve ever had fades away.

Any time that has lapsed since your last visit doesn’t matter.

You realize how much these people love you, how much you mean to them and how far they will travel to be by your side in your darkest hour.

I was so humbled by each and every one of them. Their presence made that day a little easier.

My ex-husband.

An old boyfriend’s parents, sister, brother-in-law and their children.

My new in-laws, my father-in-law, who less than a month earlier had undergone an eight hour open heart surgery.

College friends.

High school friends.

Co-workers.

My best friends.

It was touching and sweet and I’ll never forget that outpouring of love and joint loss.

Thank God for my people.

Click photo for source.

A Belated Valentine To My Dog

Posted on February 16, 2013 Written by Tonya

Dear Charlie Pasta,

You came right to me.

You chose me.

Out of all your equally adorable little brothers and sisters, you stumbled your way to me. I didn’t want an orange and white Brittany, I wanted a liver (chocolate) and white. But your little face won me over. Thank goodness you couldn’t see very well yet because I was a fright having just spend several days taking care of a sick toddler. I don’t even think I showered the day we met.

You were barely a month old but I knew I wanted you too.

My God, what I was thinking?!

I was so insistent on adding you to our family, I literally begged and pleaded with Todd for months! Oh yeah, I hate to break it to you but your BFF didn’t want a dog. He fights to keep you now, so you’re safe.

Over the last six months you have tried my patience beyond belief and we are still struggling to find some common ground.

You’re a puppy, I get it, but for the love of all the leaves and birds you chase in our backyard, the holes you enjoy digging so much, the chicken flavored treats you adore, the dirty socks you hoard and all the rounds of fetch I have played with you, please calm the fuck down!!

We have been told that your breed is an “energetic” one, that you require lots of exercise, thrive on having a task and find it difficult to relax. You and I should be getting along famously because that describes me to a T.

Alas, we don’t.

Yet.

I know we’ll turn a corner soon and until then, I’ll try to have more patience with you, my sweet little freckle faced friend.

As long as you keep looking at me with a cock-eyed head when it’s 2 minutes past your feeding time and the lower half of your body shakes to one side when you wag your tail, I’ll keep taking you on long walks, searching high and low for more challenging (and indestructible) toys and picking up your poop. Deal?

In spite of our similarities, I love you and all the fury, frustration and fun you have brought to our family.

You have never cared what I look like or if I’m happy, sad, sick or frazzled. You chose me.

Love,
Me

P.S. In the middle of writing this, I left you outside unsupervised for five minutes and you dug a hole, asshole!

No Dogs Allowed?

Posted on February 4, 2013 Written by Tonya

Recently our landlady found out we have a puppy. We’re guessing it was the photo on our holiday card. See below.

According to our Renters Agreement, no pets are allowed. I thought my husband had cleared Charlie Pasta’s arrival with her over the summer, but apparently he did not. After berating him (my husband, not the dog) over the phone, she insisted on visiting to inspect the current condition.

We keep a neat house, despite having a toddler and a puppy. A very neat house. I’m a very ~~anal retentive, OCD, type A, controlling~~ organized person and everything in my home has a place, there is very little clutter, beds are made each morning and toys are picked up throughout the day. We have our house professionally cleaned once or twice a month, the dog is crate-trained and rarely unsupervised. He also goes to the groomer once or twice a month, in addition to being bathed at home once a week.

Even with all of the tidiness, getting ready for this woman’s visit was like a Seinfeld episode…

The day before, Todd and I were leaving town for a quick trip to Tucson to check on the work being done at the house my sister and I inheritance from our parents. I was trying to organize the details of Lucas’ care while we would be away. We don’t want either of our two trusted babysitters to be responsible for the dog too, so we decide to board him and at the same time have him neutered. 🙁

Luckily, the day before the visit was also housekeeper day, but while vacuuming, one of them pulled a snag in the carpet in our bedroom that lead to an eight inch long gaping hole.

A frantic phone call to a carpet repair specialist and $75 later the problem was solved. If you’ve ever wondered how holes in carpets are repaired, it’s much like a facelift with stretching and tugging and lots of glue! It’s a fascinating process.

What I kept thinking as we bid our son farewell for 24 hours and headed to the airport was what must a complete stranger think about us upon entering our home. What does our space reveal about us?

Our style is eclectic, mismatched pillows on the couch in our living room, dozens of books on the shelves and magazines on the bedside tables, family and car photos adorn the walls, except in Lucas’ room, which has Dr. Seuss prints and a huge Lucas Oil sign. You’ll find a treadmill and a spin bike in one room and a welcoming guest bed in the another. There are doormats at every door that leads outside. There’s a bowl of fruit on the kitchen counter next to a gourmet style coffee maker. There are several bottles of perfume on the sink in the master bathroom and tons of evidence that not only a child, but also a canine live here too.

What you can’t see when you walk through our house is that we are a family, we are responsible people, parents and pet owners and we respect where we live. Not just on drop by visit days, every day.

Although we haven’t heard from her, our landlady came and went and took our February rent check with her, so I guess we are allowed to stay. For now.

EDITED TO ADD: I guess it all comes down to the Renter’s Agreement. Today we received notice that we have 45 days to vacate. Oh joy!

The Spookiest Story I’ve Ever Heard

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