Tagged: family

Dec 21

The Giving Fun

My two favorite holidays are Christmas and the 4th of July – I think it has to do with both of those holidays being HUGE in my hometown; For the 4th of July, Prescott has the “The World’s Oldest Rodeo” claims along with week-long (or more) run of 4th festivities, and for Christmas, we earned the title of “Arizona’s Christmas City” when I was in grade school (I think it was grade school time anyway) – We haven’t let go of that title since.

I think both of these hugely celebrated events also appealed to my cooky family, which made them all the more fun – we get to hang out a lot when there are so many reasons to skip work, play, and eat in celebration.

In any case, Christmas is fast approaching (like, super fast!) and I’m just not completely feeling its presence yet.  Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve been going like a freight train myself the past couple months and haven’t had time to “feel” Christmas approach… or maybe it’s because although the tree is up and stockings are hung, my empty bank account has limited how much cheer I can give away this year.

I don’t know.

But I am happy to say that (although on a budget) I am done with my Christmas Shopping – and I’m SUPER happy to say that I can’t wait for everyone to open their gifts because I had so much fun picking them out.

I have always loved buying gifts for everyone – sometimes I’m so excited about a found gift that I want to give it to the recipient early (I’m usually more excited than they are.)  Which is fun, because at my house it’s never about “What am I going to get?!” but rather, “How can I disguise this super-awesome gift” …

Because Antone Family tradition is you have to guess what’s inside the box before you can open it!

I think my parents started this ‘game’ because as kids, Christmas was always over so fast… sitting around the fireplace, taking turns guessing what’s in each package turns the whole event into a group experience, makes it last a looooong time, and gaurantees lots of laughter and grinning cheeks.

It also ensure creative and sneaky wrapping to try and fool one another.

So, as I sit prepare my gifts to wrap, I will also be raiding the cupboards for soup cans and pasta boxes to add weight and mystery to some of these things, scouring the garage for unusual boxes and bubble wrap, and otherwise scheming away (See, the pre-game part is even fun!)

And for any of you who want to try it out  - the “Guess” has to be whether you think the item is something you’re going to wear, eat, play with, look at, etc… not exactly the item – unless you’re my dad, who somehow seems to know which box contains jeans, books on motorcycles, or whatever insane unknowable item you would never imagine he’d be able to guess but guesses anyway.

Yes, I’m excited.  May you each enjoy your own Christmas/Hanukkah/and more traditions this year as well :)

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Jan 09

P(uuuurrrr)cocet OR The Past 48 Hours

Thursday night I had trouble sleeping; my stomach hurt, I felt gassy and nauseaus, and I condemned the pizza I’d had for dinner the night before.

Friday afternoon I was a whimpery mess of agony, wrapped around a heating pad, praying for whatever was ailing me to leave.

Friday evening I got on Web MD and freaked myself out about a possible appendicitis, called my mom and proclaimed I thought I should go to the ER, but then cowed to my own hypochrondiacal (I know, I know, not a real word) nature and took a shower instead.

A shower in which I nearly passed out and had to spend several minutes on the cold cement floor of the bathroom before I could dress my self and stumble out to the couch… where my side exploded in pain and I howled like a banshee while my dad held my hand and told me it would pass before shakily getting me up and putting me in the car.

- I thought my appendix had just burst, and anyone who’s ever watched any medical drama knows that a burst appendix is Bad. News.-

So I set to hyperventilating a little and my fingers were tingly as I called mom and told her where we were headed, called the hospital to tell them we were coming, and texted my fella to let him know that I was in scary shape (how he discerned those texts is beyond me – my fingers were a shaky useless mess – and I also don’t know why I didn’t just call him, except that I was a panic stricken shiver-box.)

My dad drove that big-ass white truck of his like a hero – harkening back to his ambulance driving days – and we were at the hospital in minutes!

And after that is was a battery of tests, moments of absolute worry and anxiety, and some of the most loving and caring faces on the planet surrounding me to offer comfort.

I love my family.

I love my fella.

I can’t imagine going through all of that without them there to hold my hand and tell me jokes, and remind me that it was all going to be okay.

Especially as the (Antone dubbed) drunk sadistic razor-bladed monkeys continued to dance around my mid-section.

I had to drink something that tasted like pre-jello Jello mix so that they could do a cat-scan and see what the heck was going on – and guess what?  It wasn’t a burst appendix after all (Thank GOD) – It was a ruptured ovarian cyst.

Boo, you naughty ovaries, boo!

And the damn thing was bleeding all over the place.

So they did an ultrasound and checked my blood again, and decided that they needed to operate.

I think a this point I’d already been crying enough to render my eyes racoonish, but upon learning that the risk included possibly having to remove the troublesome ovary, this little kitten’s eyes flooded all over again.

But there were my mom, dad, and Cason, holding my hand and whispering happy things at me, and telling me I was going to be just fine.

And my doctor was calm and kind, and all the hospital staff were gentle and empathetic… and I felt safe.

Scared as hell, but safe.

Which is about when I asked Cason to document things with his cell-phone camera…

This is me pre-surgery, for some reason I was very amused with my hat.

With  all the medical drama my family has endured, we have developed a very keen and saving brand of humor… It was so scary being the one on the table, but I’m just so thankful for the love we all share and the way we stick together through things.  I was absolutely terrified, but I was convinced that this picture would be funny later.

I even stuck my tongue out…

I think this is about the time that they also injected some sort of pre-anestethic drug into my IV, so after this things get a little fuzzy.  I remember kissing everyone and crying and squeezing hands and then I remember the surgical room and how big it looked and laying down on the operating table and then…

I woke up to some bright lights and a smiling nurse, and I thought Oh, shit!, and said “You mean this is really happening?”  which got a curious look, to which I mumbled “I thought maybe I was dreaming” – which got a healthy laugh.

And there they were again, my mom, my dad, and Cason, all hugging me, kissing me, squeezing my hand… and I asked Cason to take another picture (which is HILARIOUSLY awful, so I’ll spare you) and then it was zonk-out hour and I thanked God that I had made it safe and sound and that the doctor had been able to take care of both the ruptured cyst and ANOTHER one on the other ovary, without having to remove anything!

And now I am home, safe and sound, with two little bandaids on each side and a bigger bandaid over my belly button from where they went in with their little camera, and I’ve got a trusty prescription for percocet that helps me sleep and shuffle around without too much discomfort.

Apparently at one point I looked at Cason and said “Well, we’re having an adventure, aren’t we” – it’s an adventure I don’t want to repeat… But I am so thankful for all the love and strength my family and Cason shared with me that night, and I am so thankful for all the Facebook love that came my way.

I think that when trouble strikes, it’s the people in your life who help determine your success in managing it… I am truly blessed with some of the most amazing people in my life, and I am so thankful that they share their lives with me.

I love you mom, dad, Trevor, Kaiti, and Cason!  Thank you for holding my hand, making me feel safe, and making me laugh!

And to everyone else who sent love and prayers, I love you too!  Here’s my big cyber-hug in return!

xoxoxo,

Tiffany

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Nov 28

10 days OFF!

Ooooh, I don’t want to get up and go to work tomorrow!  I’ve had a DELICIOUS 10 days off… and I packed ‘em full of fun.  I can’t believe it was only last weekend that I was in LA (!) and now, here I sit, post-Thanksgiving, and I am feeling very full and very happy.

I love Thanksgiving.  I think it’s because it’s whole purpose is to bring family and friends together to eat and give thanks – how beautiful is that?!  And I am so very thankful for my family and friends!

But now… things are winding down (for a bit at least, before they get all wound up again for Christmas) and I have to go back to work.

I. Have. To. Go. Back. To. Work.

A year ago I couldn’t have said that…

A year ago I would have loved to be able to claim such a job as this…

Which is why (even though at the moment I’d like nothing more than a bonus sleep-in day for tomorrow) I am thankful that I have this job to go to.

But it’s also why this post is wrapping up and I’m going to bed now.

I hope you all had a GLORIOUS Thanksgiving :)

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Nov 24

Pre-Turkey Word Feast

Stuffed fridge, snacks along the table…
I wake up to a happy house, a well-fed kitchen.
Radishes and yams, glowing with potential.
Ham dressed in glaze and garnished with tinfoil, waiting to be opened
like a gift…
Cookies and pie fillings line the counter,
Their sweet promise of youth teasing my tongue.
There are the green beans, waiting to be washed.
There is the stuffing, waiting to be born,
And the turkey, in all it’s fresh and fleshy glory,
waiting to be buttered and seasoned and crisped…

And here is my family, laughing, clinking glasses,
doing our level best to get our bellies ready for the impending feast…

A feast of food and togetherness,
a celebration of love and survival,
of joy and relief,
of making our way through this world with strong and amazing people around us…
Of laughing our socks off, even when the situation calls for sober reflection…
Because life is too short to do anything else.

I am so thankful,
so happy,
(so hungry)
and so excited for Thanksgiving bliss.

May you also revel in the pre-Turkey hours…
Linger in the anticipation,
and greet tomorrow in grand smiles and happy fashion.

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Nov 23

My Stretchy Pants

Ooh, thank God for stretchy pants.

I’m wearing them now in preparation for the big day…

THANKSGIVING.

It’s just a few tasty days away and I CAN’T WAIT.

And it’s not just the food (although the food is HUGE on my happy scale) but it’s also the fact that this day of thanks is always full of familial joy and happiness… My uncle comes up from Phoenix, my little brother and his fabulous girlfriend come up from Tucson, and although I’m currently living in Prescott, it used to be the one day that I knew (whilst driving from LA) that we’d all be together.

It’s been a crazy year, and there have been some scary and sad things tied up in it, but I truly feel SO thankful this year that I made it through my crap, that I am in Prescott (didn’t think I’d be saying that so soon, haha) and that I’ve adapted to this past year’s growing pains… I feel stronger, better, and happier than I have in  a long time.

So, yes, I’ve got my stretchy pants on… and I’m totally happy about that!

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Oct 28

Dad… The Bionic Man

My dad is a wacky, tough, sweet, drill-sergeant, cowboy of a guy.  He’s been through just about everything, done just about everything, and tells some killer stories.  He’s been blown up, cut open, and had a heart transplant 10 years ago… and now he’s getting new hips.

I kind of can’t keep up with all of it.

Some of you may remember that last year he was in the hospital for an extended chunk of time due to heart complications.  I spent a lot of time worried, unsettled, and off kilter.  It was a much scarier situation than a hip-replacement surgery, but I was surprised to find (these past two weeks) that I was leaning towards the door, hiding in a book, or otherwise trying NOT to think about him, his state of health, or the hospital…

Because it makes me knot up, stress out, and feel like a 5 year old lost at the circus, when he’s under the knife or plugged into some machine.  It slaps his mortality in front of my face all over again and I’m tired of the powerlessness it subjects me to.

I’m also tired of hospitals.

Which makes me feel guilty…

But he’s home now, and shuffling around pretty well for a guy with a new hip!  And it feels better, only, it’s still strange… and I can still feel myself hiding… from the reality of it, from the responsibility of anything… from thinking too much about it one way or the other…

It’s just this complex knot of experience and emotion that I find growing in its dark little corner of my mind… it nibbles at the surface, bursts through at inappropriate times, and then disappears for a while  - which is when we argue about things like the merits of coasters vs. my apparent inability to remember to use them…

(sigh)

So, as you can see, feeling a bit relieved to have him home, but now processing some of the anxiety and other crap that his hospital visit stirred up.  The good news?  He gets the other one replaced in 4-6 months, so we get to do it all over again…

(double sigh)

And, on a slightly lighter note, it is worth mentioning that every time he lets out an uncomfortable groan, or I allow myself to really imagine what it must feel like to have one’s hip replaced, my ass twitches and I feel like I might throw up.

Yeah, I might be a little too good at that whole “imagine what it might feel like to walk in another’s shoes” thing… on the other hand, I’d really like to go back into my cave now, where there’s a lot less “feeling” of anything, so, umm, g’bye :)

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Sep 14

In which I say “Thanks”

I may not say it enough (because sometimes it is easier to complain) but I am so very thankful -

For my friends who listen to me when I need an ear, who lift me up when I am fallen, and who make me laugh more often than not.

For my family who basically does all the above but also puts up with my bed-head and has to listen to a LOT more of my ridiculous puns.  My mom and dad have inspired me to always be (or strive to be) my best, they love me no matter what, and they have opened their home to me even though I came back loaded down with a lot of boxes and two more cats… I couldn’t be the human being I am today without their love and support and good humor.

For my new job… There are so many people out of work right now, and I was one of them for far too long – To now have a paying job that I actually ENJOY and CARE ABOUT, is a blessing I shall not take for granted.

For my creativity and passions – yes, I’m thanking the Muse – I treasure this gift and talent I have been given and continue to hone.  It doesn’t always pan out as awesomely as I may have imagined, but I continue to study, to work, and to (hopefully) grow as an artist, and I value each and every creative moment along the way.

And I want to thank you as well.  Keeping this blog is not only a fun exercise for my brain, but also an excellent way to get my writing bug fix.  It’s a healthy habit, and one that I enjoy, and it’s all made a lot more fun knowing that (on occasion) I make you laugh, give you something to think about, or elicit a crazy comment or two from the masses.  Thanks for stopping by!

And I promise, let sap tomorrow :)

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Sep 06

Something Happens

I recognized mortality at a very young age – my father had a debilitating heart-attack when I was a sophomore in high-school.  This shock wave tore through my family and has been a major part of our existence ever since; another heart attack about 5 years later, which led to a heart transplant, which has caused a series of odd and unimagineable stomach-droppers in the time since.  He’s been in and out of hospitals for almost half of my little life, and while it’s been hard, I imagine it’s been harder on my much younger brother, who has a hard time recalling my father before it all began.

But why talk about it tonight?

I think it’s because now, after so very much, he’s got to have a hip transplant, well, hip(s) plural, actually – and he’s in a lot of pain, and I’m home, bearing witness, and it’s hard.  It’s frightening.  I feel very freaked out – as I always do when something happens with his health; wondering what in the world is going to happen now.

I hate this feeling.

I remember very specifically a moment in time when, in picking up my then-boyfriend from the hospital where he had undergone a minor procedure, that I looked at his doped up and needing face and thought (with incredible clarity) “No.  Uh-uh.  I’m not going to do this.  I don’t want to take care of this man.”

I was instantly ashamed, but as his recuperation advanced on my couch and at my kitchen table, I grew more and more distant, until finally, upon his asking me to inspect his bandaged surgical wound, I completely froze.  He never forgave me for that, and I never shook the feeling that I could not tend to this man.

Needless to say, we didn’t make it as a couple.

And while I’ve since felt the kind of tenderness towards a partner that one would need in order to be able care for them through anything (and had felt that kind of love for a man once before)… he didn’t obviously return the feeling, haha.  Still single, still single… (sigh)

But the feeling, that anxiety… I watch my AMAZING mother love and care for my dad and I feel like I am a pillar of selfish pudding compared to her.  She certainly didn’t know what would happen – but she sticks with him, she loves him like a fool, he worships her – they are a team.  They are going through things as a team.

Sometimes though, I look at him, in all his discomfort and sadness, and I want to run to the other side of the world just to breathe comfortably again for a moment…  I feel like that teenager, confronted with all that unknowable fear, all over again.  I’m the fly on the wall here, in these moments of weakness and hurt, and all I want to do is run away…

And I feel ashamed all over.

It’s amazing that no matter how far I get from then, those feelings stay intolerably close.

And I don’t know why I’m writing about it tonight except that dad had a rough day today, he’s not feeling grand, there’s nothing I can do except make silly jokes and bring him donuts when I go out for my own donut fix, and just hope that this next medical leap is one that brings relief and goes off without a hitch.

In the meantime, I daydream about castles in Scotland and vineyards in Italy, because it’s all so much more exciting and soothing than the real world and all it’s uncertainties…  Sometimes I look around at the little I seem to be doing with myself and the people leaping and bounding around me, towards something, and I want to run away in shame at my own lack of progress…

Life can be so hard, so cruel, so absolutely unpredictable…  Sometimes I dream of the days before that fateful day, when life was just a little less terrifying.

And others I just thank God I’ve already run my way through that part of the gauntlet.

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Aug 24

Hungry for CONNECTION

Remember when making a phone call was an event?  Like, you had to plan for it because the phone was stapled to the wall and you couldn’t just dial someone up as you were driving to the supermarket… Back before talking on the phone got ambushed by in-the-palm-of-your-hand-convenience and relegated to the “to Do when I have a second because now I can do it anywhere, so why in the world would I sit down to JUST make a phone call” list?

Yeah, I dont’ know if I do either.

But you get what I’m sayin’, right?  Because I feel like making a phone call has become careless and haphazard -and I’m totally guilty myself – Why do we always have to do twenty five things at once?  Why can’t we just sit down and chat with a friend or family member… Why do we have to speak in shorthand via text messages when an actual human voice would be so much more thriling?

This is what technology is doing to us – it’s tricking us into thinking we are connecting when in reality we’re just skimming the social surface.

I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately because I’m way the heck over in P-town, whilst the majority of my friends are in LA or other-parts-away, and I find myself not talking to them on the phone as much as a should, but falling back on easy texts or Facebook notes… and I think I’m starving!  I mean, those little electornic chirps and clicks feed the immediate “hey” like a candy bar feeds hunger – but sooner or later you lok down at your socially emaciated form and realize that you’re dying for some real human connection!

I picked up a new book the other day – I’m really getting more and more into these social awareness/non-fiction books that have at their core some kind of human study – this one is called The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains, by Nicholas Carr.  While it isn’t necessarily concerned with social relationships, it IS concerned with the effects of technology on our thinking processes.  I can’t wait to dig in.  As a person who LIVES next to her computer, this could be a delicious and terrifying read.

In the meantime, I am making a new pact with myself; I’m going to take time to talk on the phone instead of just skimming the surface of my friend pool.  We’re not robots, after all, and my lightening quick texting fingers could use a break.

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May 15

The Bad Kitty Blues

My parents and I are currently living with five cats… that’s two more cats than humans.

It’s risky business.

But this morning we discovered that their little boy cat, Ceasar, has been spraying his mark all over the house for quite some time (pre-me +my 2 kitties moving in) and I had the indelible pleasure of helping scrub away at cat urine with bleach, a toothbrush, and some tough rubber gloves.

I think my nostrils are permanently singed…

You see, my parents have cement flooring (it looks like lovely stone though, I had no idea you could do this with concrete) It at least makes for easier clean up; just pour on the bleach and watch it bubble.  YES.  Cat urine + bleach = a foaming, toxic mess that is sure to bring tears to your eyes.  I had no idea, but I almost lost my senses… seriously, I can’t smell anything right now.  They could probably use the combo to create weapons of mass disruption.  Forget smoke bomb, how about a Urine Bomb.  Blech!

Anyway, after all the hidden potty-places were discovered and scoured, I found that I had quite lost any and all respect I once had for Sir Ceasar… and I just hope and pray that my cats aren’t influenced by his bad boy behavior.

Additionally, my parents are concerned that they may have to give him up if he doesn’t stop doing it… any tips on how to nip this problem?

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