I believe it was later that same school year, or possibly in 8th grade that we were having a blast in PE again. We were learning gymnastics, a sport I really got into in high school for a brief time. We had heavy mats we hauled off the stage and placed around the uneven bars and the horses and other gymnastic equipment we were using for class. (My favorite was the uneven bars!)

Towards the end of class we had to return the mats to the stage. Since they were heavy and awkward, we would get a running start towards the stage... (I know you're thinking, O Geez us what did she do this time?...) I didn't do anything! Much. I simply helped get the mats up on the stage.

Well, actually, every time I would get a mat up there I would reward my efforts by jumping into an enormous net filled with giant foam cubes! Super fun! I had a blast with that stuff! I was laughing and running and jumping and bouncing in foam and finally I slid off the foam pile onto the stage floor laughing and the last thing I remember was to look on the faces of the kids in my class. I saw horror!

When I came to, it was to look into the face of my father. Now I can only imagine how long I was out and how long it took for someone to run to the office to call, well you get the point, if you read my previous post. Also don't know what Dr. Dad did to help me or anything else about that incident, except hearing what happened.

Pretty simple really. While I was focusing on getting the mats on the stage and frolicking in the net wrapped foam cubes, what I neglected to notice was the 16 foot aluminum extension ladder leaning up against the back wall. At least it WAS leaning up against the wall until the foam cubes bumped it enough for it to lose balance and fall forward, cracking my scull or sounding like it. Hence, head injury #dos in jr. high.

My 1st Head Injury in 7th Grade at Blackhawk Jr High

After an hour of outdoor PE in the blazing fall sun, my gym pals and I ran diagnally across the gymnasium to the locker room door. For some unknown and really weird reason, right when my friend and I got to the door, I stepped to the right to let her in. Nice manners? Unless you consider I was at the dead run of a hyper 13 year old.

Apparently I ran face first into said wall. The cinder block one. Yeah, that was brilliant. I don't really remember because it knocked me out cold. Don't even know how I hit the floor or even how long I was out cold. When I came to, it was to look into the face of my father, the doctor, whose office was in another Chicago suburb. I could think about how long it took someone to get around to notifying the office so they could look up my home phone and call my mother, who would have called my father at work, who probably was in with a patient, so she probably waited on hold, way longer than you have waited for me to end this very long, run-on sentence.

So, I'm really not clear on much about what happened later or what Dad did to take care of me or even if I changed and went to my next class. I never really thought much about it for decades.

Family Watching Over...

Through the holidays I've seen families watching over their members. It's nice. Even when you are quite capable of watching over yourself it looks like it would be nice to have that kind of caring. I kindof wish my kids would think more about me that way. Not all of them need a wake up call, but enough of them do. that I would have way less stress, if they did! Some of them forget that the 'little' things they ask of me get added to all the other 'little' things asked of me til I am completely overwhelmed by it all! There are 9 of them. And some have spouses and things and some of them have their own kids, all asking things of me. Here is an example from today:

All relaxed and working through my emails here earlier today, Danica 14, asked me to go to Sandy to get her best friend, Kayla for the week. As I was making the trip anyway, I asked her to find out if Josh 19, or Jason's 33 kids, Q 11 & A 13, would like a ride to Ogden, too. The sheer number of texts and calls that ensued is crazy. But planning is necessary, when a 2 hour roundtrip is involved. Danica could not make it happen, so I called around and formed a plan. Well, I should confess, I sat in my truck for 10 minutes before leaving, with serious doubts about the stress involved. I really wanted to quietly do things around the house today.

Instead, Danica and I drove to Sandy to drop off Christmas gifts and get hugs all around from Jason, Karla, Brandon, Quenton, Alyssa, Danica and I. We picked up Alyssa and headed to Kayla's. I realized I lost my chapstick somewhere along the way, so we stopped at Walgreens'... since the ox was in the mire anyway. Then we picked up Kayla from her stepdad's house and a week's worth of clothes for another 14-year old, exchanged hugs and gifts and headed home. So far not too retarded.

I dropped all the girls off at Tegan's, 21, so they could babysit Matthew, 20 mos. while his mommy worked. At ten to six I hurried home to see Randy before he left for work at 6pm. He had already filled a 'to go' container with roast and veggies I had cooking in the crockpot all day and some creamcheese thumprint cookies I made yesterday with apple mint jelly and red current jam. We were chatting for a moment on the couch when Adam, 16, and his friend Kolby,16, got home from snowboarding.

Adam was completely pale white and not in a chic winter palor kind of way, but in a shocky something's wrong kind of way. I quizzed him and he said he biffed it, hitting snow on his last run. Not enough information for me, so I kept asking him. He said he hadn't eaten all day so I direct him to the aforementioned roast. One bite of carrot and he said he feels better already. I'm not buying it. Kolby and Randy both leave so I have Adam stand in the light to see his eyes.

He said, 'If my eyes are okay can I go to bed?' Now that's telling! It's 6pm and a 16-year-old wants it to be bedtime. Not good. I had him tell me exactly what happened, what got hit/hurt. His eyes were fine btw. Now he is curious as to why I am all concerned and goes to look in the bathroom mirror. (I know how this works! I have gone super shocky from looking at my injured self in the mirror before!) He lost his balance, freaked out at his reflection and I tell him to sit down.

When he was feeling better and getting some color back, I packed some bags of groceries for the girls, picked up a couple of pizzas from Little Caesars and ran them to Tegan's house. Then I drove by her work, cuz I do that sometimes. I think my being in the vacinity makes it safer for her! Then I swung by Trevor's house to drop off fresh coffee beans and a grinder and picked up some homemade cookies. Sarah made them from some stuff I gave her yesterday. I get hugs all around and Mia 6 says she loves me and all the people in my house and I came home to write this.

Anyone who thinks moms don't do anything aren't paying attention and probably should be slapped for their insensitivity.

So, now I've put the roast away, done the dishes and laid out an outfit for tomorrow. I still have a few things to do before bed. Adam is asleep after telling me moccasins are the coolest invention ever! I'll do those few more things, like shower and stuff and then lay down to read a book by Michael J Fox about having a positive attitude! It was an impulse purchase from Walgreens and could be why I lost my chapstick earlier! That might be hard to follow, but I give up trying to figure out how "God" always puts me where I need to be, to learn something or to share something.

Heaving a big sigh here...

Journey Back & Forth

Dear Reader,

Heading into the New Year, thinking about how you got here and why and how and what? Me too. Good time to consider who we are and where we are going. I was born Deborah Lynne States, then took the name of my first husband, Cross. Another marriage after those 23 years and I had the last name Snider for a whole 18 months. After that divorce, I took my children's last name back, instead of my maiden name. My friends re-named me Roxy a few years ago. Sooo, Debi States became Deborah Cross became Deb Snider then Deb Cross now Roxy Cross. None of my names came from me. And given a choice, what would I do? Leave it for now as it seems to work for everyone!

I already have 3 blogs. A personal one, Next! http://roxycross.blogspot.com/, one about my sons Boyz, http://roxcross.blogspot.com/, subtle difference in the url. And I have one on Word Press that is not so user friendly to me yet, about feeding the homeless and growing plants and stuff, http://roxycross.wordpress.com/. Why another blog?

What I have been asked to share is what I've learned in life. I've been told I'm brave enough to live transparently, sharing to help others. I don't feel so brave thinking about it. My life has some scary parts. People tend to keep those to themselves. Although the scary parts are what threw me into this journey and I suspect I'm not alone in that.

If I choose to share my life experiences out loud and the subsequent choices I've made to improve my life, my hope is, that bravery will be rewarded by helping someone in need. Cuz that is something I'd be all over! My personal motto for over a decade has been, 'Make a Difference.' I do it every day, all day long. So here I go, making a difference hopefully for you, Dear Reader!

I send messages all the time from various social media sites and I hear back from people who needed what I say. Their notes make me cry. The only reason I share, as I mentioned, is to make a difference and when that happens, I am so touched. Thank you. I have been writing and saving my thoughts on my computer, but it is apparently time to share publicly.

Starting this blog, a rather transparent one, today. I will share the issues I deal with and how I got to this point. Then I will try different things to improve my situation and blog about the journey, good or not so much! I really hope it helps people in their struggles. Life is not all that easy for anyone, no matter what it looks like. Anything and everything we can do to lighten the load, can only help others and those in their circles and perhaps only subtly shift the earth swiftly towards peace.

Love ya buckets, Roxy