Merry Christmas from the Hamill fam! 

All I Want for Christmas ...
Dearest Sandy Claws:
Now that Thanksgiving has yielded and given way to the truly dichotomous (stressful yet joyous) Christmas season, I would like to get my request in early so I can cross it off my to-do list (and anyone who knows me knows how much I loooooove to make lists). So, bear with, it's pretty long:
1- I would like all children in the world to get the best Christmas present they could ever receive: unconditional and unbounding love from their parents/guardians. Please let all deadbeat dads in the world feel remorse for their apathy and let them feel the need to repair some of the damage they have caused.
2- I would like every hungry belly to be fed, or at least satiated so a good night's sleep can be had.
3- I would like everyone in the world to start acting more with their heart and less with their head (although the head may intervene in special situations in which it is absolutely necessary for protection).
4- I would like truth and ethical responsibility to regain its prevalence and importance in today's society and for people to start owning their actions and righting the wrongs they have caused.
5- I would like everyone to make an effort to center themselves and when they find that harmony, pass it on to their neighbor (then we can have one big Breck commercial of centeredness ... how coooooool!)
6- I would like the Republican administration to STOP USING FEAR AS A TOOL OF CONTROL, please, pretty please.
7- Um, and I'd like that new Ford hybrid SUV.
8- And last but not least, I would like everyone to believe ... in you, in themselves, in God, in any God, anything that gives hope and faith a stronger grip in their life. Sounds corny, I know, but if corny is wrong, then I don't wanna be right.

Okay, thanks for listening. I know it's a pretty big bill, but I'm sure you and all the resident deities can swing it if you work as a team.
Thanks a bunch! Have a great holiday and drive safely (those reindeer can be soooo moody and unpredictable!)
S

What???!!!!!!
The "500 Greatest Songs" issue of Rolling Stone just came out and I opened it up expecting to see the best song ever created by a human being jump right out at me, to which I would crack a smug smile and think to myself, "I knew it." However, I was sadly, sadly dissappointed to find the greatest song of all time listed at a completely inappropriate 357. I am referring, of course, to "Little Wing" (duh!) by Jimi Hendrix. Undeserving songs such as "Like a Prayer" by lil miss thang and frickin "Stan" by the Emster, among many other mediocre blah, blah songs beat it out. I'm shocked, bewildered and do believe I will spend the rest of the afternoon in a sad, sad fog. sigh ....

Those Three Special Words
I've waited 20 years to hear them -- those three special words that provide comfort and clarity. Yes folks, I heard them today, the three most beautiful words I've ever heard: Irritable Bowel Syndrome. The doctor said I have the "classic" symptoms. (So why the hell has it taken 20 years and many, many doctors to figure it out?) Praise be to Dr. Hughes, who led me to the truth and gave me magic little pills that make the pain dissipate immediately. (Damn those ER doctors for scaring me into thinking I needed surgery. Ha! Guess I outsmarted them! ) I'm walking on air today, people! Please join me!
Disclaimer: If anyone is grossed out by the mention of bowels in this message, well, get over it.

Ha Ha Hospital
I just returned from a trip to the ER (my age-old stomach problem). When I wasn't doubled over in pain, I found several funny things about the place, such as ...
The 1 to 10 rating system: If you are ever in the unfortunate position of being in enough pain to warrant a trip to the ER, you will be asked several times by several different people how you would rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being no pain and 10 being "pain of death" (whatever the heck that means ... I haven't met a pain yet that killed me and if I had I wouldn't be able to answer the question now, would I?). I wondered how the doctors and nurses would take into account the varying drama of the various patients. I prefer to deny pain, so I would always err on the low side (although the pain had to be pretty near 8 to even get me to say the words, "Take me to the hospital now, please."), while the lady in the next bed, who apparently had the same problem I did would always answer, "Ohhhh, wayyyyy over 10," to which I rolled my eyes and mumbled under my breath how obviously alive she currently was. I also wondered how funny it would be to tell the many different nurses who saw me a variety of numbers, including fractions, just to confuse them. However, I've actually taken a liking to the system and found the system has many uses. I find myself using the scale in several home-based situations, e.g., "Ty, on a scale of 1 to 10 with 1 being no hunger and 10 being really, really hungry, like five nuggets-worth, how would you rate your hunger?" or "Brian, on a scale of 1 to 10 with one being I've already forgotten about it and 10 I'll die without it, how would you rate your need for that expensive altimeter?" It's very handy.
Parking signs for beds: While they were wheeling my skinny little bed through the halls, I actually saw signs that read "No parking beds between signs." I had to giggle for a second as I imagined a scrubs-clad nurse cursing as she picked up a bed parking ticket from the gurney of a sleeping patient she had left there while she ran into a nearby doctor's office to pick up some paperwork.
"But I only left her here for a minute, officer! Come on! Give me a break here!"
"Im' just doing my job, ma'am, just doin my job."
Cherry guys fighting cancer: Cheery people are everywhere and every caregiver there feels they have to smile at you (and that it is completely appropriate to touch your shoulder, or your arm, or your knee, but I guess that's another story). Even the greeter/information guy at the front entrance feels it his duty to bestow tons of good cheer on you regardless of whether or not you want it. As I waited for Brian to pick me up I overheard the cheery greeter guy talking to a friend who had come to the hospital for a colonoscopy. Oh joy. So this is what the guy actually says (with a smile on his face the entire time): "It'll be alright! I had colon cancer, and when I kicked it and came in for my follow-up, I found that I had prostate cancer! Can you believe that! I just finished all my treatment for that and now I'm cancer-free. So you see, it's all gonna be okay!" You gotta hand it to the guy. Just hearing him talk put a smile on my face.

Halloween Hoochimama
One of the many joys of having a child: Halloween candy.
One of the many joys of having two children: Twice the Halloween candy.
Muuooohaaaahaaahaaahaa (evil hopped-up-on-mini-Snickers-bars laugh).

Sidenote: I suppose a logical person would think, "I'm sure raising two children and sending them to college is quite a bit more expensive than splurging for the bag of mini Snickers bars at the supermarket." My response: I am one of "those" mothers who evilly gives out raisin boxes and fruit snacks trying to improve the teeth and health of the next generation (and because I'm allergic to sulfites, which are in chocolate), so when candy bars infiltrate the household, it is cause for curses (by me) and celebration (by the children and husband ... and me secretly) simultaneously.
Sidenote 2: Those of you who know about my sulfite allergy must be wondering how I am able to type this right now knowing I am hopped up on mini Snickers bars and probably scratching my fingers like a crazy person. It has taken me 20 minutes to write this.

Aha! moment
I've really been digging some bands lately that my husband dubbs, um, how does he put it ... "pussy rock" (sorry if I'm offending anyone here) -- bands like Jimmy Eat World, Yellowcard, Weezer, etc. Anyway, I found out today that there's a real name for this kind of music. It's called Emo! (That's short for emotional, according to the Real Music Player music guide.) No wonder I like it, huh? Have I been under a rock? Did everyone else out there know that a new label had been applied to what I thought was just a neo-punk-based sound, but still under the whole "Alternative" genre? They also have another subgenre called "Twee Pop/Cuddlecore". Does that make anyone else laugh hysterically? Maybe I should start submitting my husband's titles ...

Meet Lola and Ginger, front ladies for the new band Just 2 Much. 

It was Oct. 30. The night began innocently enough. Three of us threw on wigs and glittered eyeshadow while Brian threw on a policeman's hat with some mardi gras beads and a purple silk vest. We called him Johnson, the long arm of the law. After a few glasses of wine -- sulfite-free of course -- we hit the road and headed to downtown Boulder. We thought everyone would be dressed up ...

Too much sake for Ginger. Dinner at Boulder's premiere sake bar, Amu, was fabulous with Lola taking the ordering helm. She worked there before hitting it big with Just 2 Much. 

We walked into the restaurant full of the usual Boulder crowd: all JCrew and no diversity. All eyes turned. I'm blaming it on Maglove's Rod Stewart wig. Lola and I were relatively inconspicuous. I suppose it could've been Johnson, with that purple vest. Anyway, after a short stint at the sake bar we headed back to a private room where we ate the best Japanese food I've ever had and drank some of the best sake ever made (thanks to Lola's connections). Ain't life sweet. And Maglove's tape goes on ...

Lola's man is the band's videographer, Maglove. 

He wore knee pads (no joke) and ran around dramatically dropping to his knees, sliding and taping us everywhere we went all night. It was hilarious. He's actually a film student at Naropa and the resulting tape rocks.

Presidential Pisser
And just when I was beginning to heal myself ...

Read, please
http://english.aljazeera.net/NR/exeres/79C6AF22-98FB-4A1C-B21F-2BC36E87F61F.htm
Creepy, but should be read. Please keep in mind that American media is puppeted, have no doubt about that. Open your mind and see both sides, only then can you find the balance and discern truth from fiction. Thanks for the link, Jon.

Also, Brian and I had a fabulous night out with my best girl and twin flame, Michelle and her boyfriend Justin over the weekend. I'll get an update up soon, complete with pictures! However, let me warn you, you may not recognize me. :)

Peace, and GO VOTE PEOPLE!

Have you ever embarrassed yourself so badly you wanted to lock yourself up in the darkest room possible, say an empty planetarium or the darkest pit of hell, curl up in a ball and will yourself to molecularly dissolve into the blackness? Welcome to my world.

Many Thoughts
Okay, I'm on my fourth White Russian here, so give me a break. However, the few words of wisdom I have to impart follow:
Few words with unknown assailant to heart = clarity (in other words, communication is everything. If anyone anywhere out there means something to you, tell them. It will mean more to you and them than you have the capacity to understand)
Macaulay Caulkin in a wheelchair = hot (if you've seen "Saved" this is self-explanatory)
Innervoice = truth (no matter how much you doubt yourself, listen to your little voice. Face the east, light some candles [ especially lavendar] or whatever works for you. Just know that although your destiny may await, you make your own path between here and there ... and don't forget it).
Shrimp potstickers from Whole Foods after you haven't eaten in three weeks due to anxiety = yummy (self-explanatory)

To anyone who is reading this, I love you. And I'm back, for real.
S

Get the Funk Back
Apparently, I needed to get the funk back in my life. I feel a little better now, with the first chapter of a book done and and handful of poetry to boot. I just got back from a fabulous weekend with my Virginia family. After a mildly depressing episode Saturday night (if anyone ever sees a cell phone in my hand again while I'm drinking, please pry it from my fingers, I beg of you), I fell into the truly loving arms of Will, Chris, April, James, Amy and Paul, all of whom helped pick me up, dust me off and slap some sense into my head. After some very tasty self-medicating (thank you for the 35 year Grand Marnier, Chris!) we danced our asses off, which was fabulous therapy. I was surrounded by so much love, I feel spoiled and so blessed to have such amazing friends. Love really is a drug and I hope I can return it to you guys tenfold. Sunday I had a hangover lunch with my Radford pals BonBon, Jon, Jeanne, Kathie and Katharine (April and James by my side the whole time, thank God). I apologize for not being better company, people. Next time I promise to work a hangover day into my trip. After some rest time, valuable counseling time with my Michelle, and a fabulous dinner at Paul and Amy's, I returned home. It was a great trip and reminded me how much I am loved. Sure, I'm still a little sad, but I'll get over it. Thank you guys for being there for me. :) I love you truly. Coming soon: more political commentary, I promise!

Guess what ... I'm starting my book. :)

First and Last
Okay, this is probably the first and last time I'll put my poetry up here. But it's coming out of me and I have to put it somewhere. I'm going crazy, by the way.

Memories please come back to me
Forgotten for decades
Shrouded by my misery

A single thought of you is all I have
A little boy
With my heart in your hand

Years have passed
And suddenly you're back
But not within reach
I don't know you anymore
And I can't remember
Why

My neighbor, my friend
Your blue eyes:
your beginning, my soul's end

A bright white light
In my days of dark
You made things right

Years have passed
And suddenly you're back
But not within reach
I don't know you anymore
And I can't remember
Why

I'm grown now
Love all around me
How come I feel about to drown

Faded pictures from the past
Struggle in my mind
You're a mystery, fading fast

Years have passed
And suddenly you're back
But not within reach
I don't know you anymore
And I can't remember
Why

Here I Go Again ...
Do you want the good news or the bad news first? The bad news is that I’m anxiety-ridden, back to my OCD habits (I know what you’re thinking James …) and feel like I have to throw up all the time. The good news? It’s that I’m anxiety-ridden, back to my OCD habits and feel like I have to throw up all the time. These traits are actually part of my writing process, which leads me to believe I’ll start writing something worth selling any moment now.

Has it really been three months since I've posted? Sorry ...

Open Letter to Ice Cream People
A few weeks ago I was with my family at a park in Boulder. We hear the sing-song tune of the icecream man (or person, or whatever) and my four-year-old stops in his tracks, like a cat just spotting its prey. But instead of crouching, he starts slowly turning his head back and forth, scanning for the truck. We finally spot it and he breaks into a sprint, followed closely behind by his father. They near the truck and I can remember it as if in slow-motion. Brian reaches for his wallet, and the other hand heads toward the sky to wave down the driver. Then, get this, the driver shakes his head and waves him off. What????!!! Stunned, I revert to "angry mother" and start booing loudly (I have no idea where that came from; I don't even boo at ball games). So I say to you, ice cream people of the world, please don't do that. This is how riots get started.

Life According to Barney ...
Today on Barney (which I rarely let my kids watch, by the way, because I think it's kind of freaky): "If you're angry and you know it, pound some clay" sung to the tune of "If you're happy and you know it". I suppose it's better than pounding someone's face, but still ...

Couldn't have said it better ...
"The true axis of evil in this country is the brilliance of our marketing and the stupidity of our people."
-- Bill Maher on Hardball tonight, when asked by Chris Matthews why he thought the President's rating was doing so well

I put some new family photos up on my web site. Please look :)

The Bachelor Strikes Again
My 3-1/2 year old exclaimed last night that he had to go potty while we were watching The Bachelor (yes, I'm ashamed to admit that I am addicted). I told him to go ahead and go; he jumped off the bed, then paused in the doorway to the bathroom, staring at the television the whole time. "It's the last rose!" he declared, and pranced at the doorway until it was bestowed. Is that bad?

Ha! Just as I suspected.

Dichotomom
The reason I named my blog Dichotomous is because my friends used to make fun of me because I would preface many things by saying, "well, half of me feels (fill in the blank here), but half of me feels (fill in the blank with just about the opposite of what was in previous blank), too. They always said the song "Heart and Soul" by T'Pau (I know I'm totally dating myself here) reminded them of me because the woman was talking and singing at the same time. It's not that I'm indecisive, mind you; I just have two fairly distinct sides who argue with one another frequently. Anyway, my point is that I once again cannot escape the dichotomousness (not a real word, I know, but if the prez can do it, why can't I?) of my life. I knew leaving a full time job and friends I loved would be hard, and becoming a stay-at-home mom would be even harder, but I didn't realize I would enter a duplicitous world, where I'm not truly happy on either side. Let me explain. There is quite a nasty underbelly to the SAH mom's network; one I could never have guessed existed. Also, because I still work, albeit from home, I have a corporate facet of my life that I still can't come to terms with.

To explain further, the first dichotomy is the SAH mom thing. Becoming a SAH mom is hard, especially when you're in a new town and have always worked a full-time job. It's like boot-camp, but lasts much longer than six weeks. The transition is physically and emotionally exhausting. (Six months later, I'm still transitioning, by the way). So when I first came here, I went to the library often and sought a Mom's Group so I could meet other moms, introduce Ty and Ethan to some new friends and hopefully gain advice, camaraderie and an occasional playgroup. I thought most other mom's must be like me: not so sure of what they were doing all the time, craving adult interaction, and mostly looking to make sure their children are well adjusted and learn how to play with other kids. What I've found is that many of these women are unfriendly, cliquish, self-righteous and judging. I don't think I've found any other SAH mom yet who hasn't been a SAH mom since their child was born, like me. And I've only found one other who also does freelance work from home. It's almost as if you have to choose one or the other as your profession from day one: be a SAH mom, or go to work and abandon your family to be raised by strangers. So here's the dichotomy: I joined the group to make friends for me and my boys,which the group is said to promote, yet many of the women in the group only speak to the women they've always known (there are several cliques) and make judgments on how others parent. It's almost like a thirty-something high school. I've decided I'm going to change the group, or at least help the one friend I've made in the group change it. It's ridiculous. I'm sure I'll write more of the Club in the future.

The second dichotomy: work. I've always said I want to be employed only in the non-profit sector, because of some beliefs on Corporate America I've had since college. I loved working in education and it fit my ideals well. Now, I'm so far from non-profit, it churns my stomach. Granted I do most of my work from home, but the one day every two weeks that I have to go into the office, I am seduced into a false world. I have access to the most desired database in the state -- the most wealthy and influential people Colorado has to offer. In the "office" I am surrounded by beauty and the best of everything. It is seductive and for a mere moment, makes me think I'm important, until I realize that I'm serving these wealthy and often irritating people, whose money I'm not sure is clean. I could be taking unclean money! One client has owned a brewery for generations -- a brewery whose beer I have sworn off for as long as I can remember and recommended others to do so because I know their advertising tactics are misleading and potentially harmful. However, the job and people I work for have been very good for me. The person whom I do most of my contract work for is wonderful and has been very supportive of me working from home to care for my children. They make me feel important, like what I'm doing really makes a difference and that makes me feel good. The dichotomy: I feel good for doing well at my job, but by doing well, I'm promoting many things I stand against, which makes me feel horrible.

In the end, even staying at home and working is dichotomous. And I'm not even talking about the scheduling and responsibilities here, just the emotional and social aspect. It's almost as if you can't be a SAH mom and work. They are certainly two very distinct and different worlds and cultures. I'm trying to be part of both, and I'm not sure I'm succeeding. When I worked full-time, I remember admiring women who stayed at home, but at the same time I guess I felt a bit superior because I was intellectually stimulated and ambitious. I'll tell you, though, I've found that most SAH moms look down on those who work. It's like two warring groups. Now that I'm blessed enough to stay at home, even though I do have to work to make ends meet, I've seen a side of SAH moms that I am ashamed of, but recall with shame some of my thoughts of SAH moms when I was working full time. Maybe I'll start a new Mom's Club for all mom's that includes support for working moms, political and career discussion groups, and a credo to be open to and admiring of all moms just for being a mom, the most important job title of all (let's face it, at the Grammy's do you ever hear someone say, "I'd like to that the executive director of XYZ? No, they thank mom!).

Spring Warming Up its Sprangythang
The birds were singing this morning for the first time in a long, long time. In Virginia, they sang every morning, regardless of the season. I think it's because the nights aren't as cold there. In Virginia, they have what my friends and I call "walk outside naked at midnight" weather. Colorado? Not so much. Anyway, it was great to hear them again. I don't think I realize how much I missed them until I heard them this morning. The birds are completely different here, of course (bye bye cardinals!), but the song is still wonderful music. If only Jeff were here to tell me what I'm listening to!