A few things.

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Been gone awhile.

No, I wasn’t on vacation. I just got my ass kicked by the last few weeks, which have been leading up to the END OF THE SCHOOL YEAR…this Thursday. Not that I’m dreading it or anything.

Anyway, during my absence, I discovered a few things.

The first is that, judging by the way my family leaves things (or the wrappers) right where they are once they have finished using (or eating) them, there is a strong chance all of them could end up on an episode of Hoarders: Buried Alive one day. Of course, this behavior could also result in me appearing on an episode of I (Almost) Got Away With It on another channel, simultaneously. Let’s hope it doesn’t come to this, as I would much rather land my own talk or cooking show or perhaps something in the vein of What Not To Wear. That would be too. much. fun. Honestly.

The second is…I have deep seeded road rage. Not just any road rage though. Mine is specifically triggered by elderly drivers. Yes, I know I am headed straight for Hell in a fast moving vehicle for saying this, but it’s true. Seriously.  The laws mandate that you have to take a driving/road test to get a license when you turn 16 in this country, so why not pass a law stating you have to take one every year once you reach, say, 70 years old, in order to keep your license? Seems logical to me, because let’s face it…some people, no matter how sweet they are in their geriatric stage, simply should not be driving. Period. Personally, I plan on turning my license in once I am rich enough to hire a driver, so I will not cause undue stress to those younger than I on the roads I may travel in my old age. My mama always loved Driving Miss Daisy, so I believe she would approve of my decision.

Third thing. I fall into a funk when The Man is between film projects. Unfortunately, the last 8 months have mostly been filled with ‘in-between’ time, resulting in my neglect of writing new posts for y’all to read. Go figure. The funk is not because of the loss of income, but because he morphs into an energy vampire who sucks the life right out of me when he is off work with a pair of idle hands. Bless his bones, I love him more than life itself, but The Man needs hobbies…or friends…or a love of social networking for hours on end…or DIY projects. Or all of the above. Well, maybe not DIY projects. That could be bad. But I digress. On a typical day off, he wakes up, takes a shower, makes any work related calls he needs to, and then proceeds to wreck the flow of things in my routine by hovering over me asking what I’m doing. Mind you, I said ‘hovering’ not helping. Then he alternates between pacing back and forth through the house, sitting on the sofa watching sports, or lounging out by the pool listening to Howard Stern. After this, he usually scavenges around the kitchen, and asks me what there is to eat. Which drives me bat-shit crazy, because inevitably it invokes feelings of guilt in me, and I end up halting whatever activity I am engaged in to make food for him. Once he tires of these activities, he follows me around as I gather laundry, straighten up rooms, make beds, etc….trying to take my clothes off. Oh yes. This really happens. I have even talked about it before. Right here.

There once was a time when I bitched and moaned about being a ‘mixer’s widow’, spending my days with 3 little ones and very little adult interaction, because he was always working, and never home. Let it now be known to the Universe: He has more than compensated for all those years by being up my ass the past one, so take him back…please! Thanks in advance, His wife 🙂

Last thing. I miss y’all when I don’t write. So I pledge to try to stay focused, while thwarting advances from The Man and entertaining children who will be out of school for summer break.

On Thursday.

Not that I’m dreading it or anything….

Flip, flop, and then…just STOP?

So.

I have been avoiding this topic. When I think about it, it really upsets me. For lots of reasons. Mainly because it made The Beans very sad, and that alone makes me feel like a failure as a parent. One who is powerless to fix the problem this time. And I’m a fixer, which adds salt to an already infected wound. Throw in that my Sugar Bean wrote this, not too long ago, and I am all sorts of a hot mess at the moment. Minus the hot part.

All three of The Beans are gifted gymnasts. I know, I know. Everyone thinks their kid is the best at what they do. This is different though. They have a raw, God-given ability for this sport. Seriously. Anyone who has seen them at their meets agrees. Their coaches agree. Total strangers agree. I’ve had parents ask what kind of super-food I feed them. LOL. They are the gymnastic equivalent to a trio of piano prodigies.

It started when Sugar Bean was 4 years old. Thinking it would be something fun for her, I took her in for an evaluation at a popular, gymnastics school. After exhibiting super-human strength by zipping up the rope and ringing the bell mounted on a beam at the ceiling of the gym…she landed in the preschool advanced class, and I was asked if I was ready for the world of competitive gymnastics, because my little one was, “freakishly strong and coordinated, showing real promise in the sport”. “Bring. It. On.” I said. For 3 years she trained, 4 days a week, alternating team classes with private lessons, etc. By age 7, she was performing skills that girls much older than her had not mastered. Her technical ability far exceeded her psychological understanding of it, and how very gifted she was. The older girls on her team were mean to her. She burnt out fast, and getting her to the gym became all about the meltdown. It was a distraction for her teammates, and The Man flat refused to take her. Ever. Despite the fact that I was very pregnant with #2. Too much for him to handle. She asked to quit. We had no choice but to allow it. I figured the best thing to do was bide our time and see if she rekindled her excitement and passion for it sometime in the future.

She did.

Just before her birthday last year, she announced she wanted to return to the sport. A family member overheard this, and offered to be the financial benefactor, as The Man and I just haven’t been in the place to allow anything like that in the past few years. After some discussion, we agreed to let this happen, and thanked them profusely. Of course, now we have two more daughters, who decided they also wanted to give it a whirl. Asked if that was okay? No problem. Everyone could participate 🙂 Happy dances all around.

We found a wonderful facility, with outstanding and nurturing coaches and staff. Each of the girls started class in September. A month in, the older girls were asked to join the team. The Oldest was placed in Level 4, where she had been when she quit. Amazing, considering she had been on hiatus from the sport for five years. Butter Bean landed in Level 3, after only 6 training sessions…EVER. Sweet Pea was placed in the “Hot Shots” which is the class just before Pre-team. ALL THIS HAPPENED WITHIN A MONTH. Soon, everyone was training several days a week, and competing in meets on weekends. At every meet, their scores would soar higher and higher in each event. It was clear, they were blessed with skill for gymnastics. ALL OF THEM. And they beamed with excitement and pride after every competition. Scores aside, they were happy, which made me happy.

Flashback to 10 days ago. The day before this happened.

I got the heartbreaking news they would no longer be able to continue their training due to financial reasons. All of a sudden. Dreams dashed. While I understand completely, I am shattered. It’s an expensive sport, and we simply can’t shoulder the financial commitment at this time. Eventually, perhaps, but not at the moment. Since it was the beginning of the billing cycle, I called the gym to let them know The Beans would not be returning until further notice. Their coaches were shocked, to say the least. For 8 months now, the gym has been our family’s second home. We were there at least 10 hours a week. Most of my blog posts have been written via laptop from the lobby of the gym. Seriously.

Their main coach said “This is the worst afternoon of my life. Let’s talk about this. Let me see if I can speak to the board and find a solution, some sort of help. Would you and your husband be willing to help with activities and such in exchange for some tuition assistance? The loss of your girls to this team, and your family to this facility would just be too much. They love it here, are having fun, and we love your family. There has to be something that can be done.”YES! Of course we will do whatever it takes to keep them training. We just can’t shuck out $800 a month in tuition, in addition to meet fees, equipment expenses, etc.” I replied. He said he would let me know.

I’m still waiting….but hopeful.

Meanwhile, the most devastating part is we made a commitment, and can’t ful-fill it. They have missed a whole week of training so far, and were supposed to compete again in a week. As a family, we’ve let the team and the gym down. As parents, we have let our daughters down. Epic parenting fail #12,832.

How do I handle this? Literally, and psychologically. Have any of you ever run into something similar? There has to be a way, because there is definitely a will here.

If I hear something, I’ll post an update. Promise.

 

 

Sisters hugging it out before a meet.

Sisters hugging it out before a meet.

 

Give this Southern girl some flowers…

…and THIS is what happens…

 

One guest said it was worthy of display in the lobby of The Four Seasons. I almost fainted.

It all started because we needed a centerpiece for the main table at the shower I co-hosted for my bestie yesterday. My go-to florist (and good friend) Kate, of Kate Baker Florals was out-of-town, and therefore, unable to take care of my bloomin’ needs, like she usually does. So, I was forced to take matters into my own hands. Why not go to another florist, you say? First of all, I’m very loyal when I find the best. That’s the truth. So I absolutely will continue to turn to her for my future events. After all, SHE’S the professional! However, I may or may not have waited ’til the last-minute and backed myself into a corner on this one, and I was desperate. But hey, that’s where my improvisation training comes in handy, right? “Flying by the seat of my pants” is practically an art form in my book 🙂

Since I had been to the Flower Mart in downtown LA once before, I knew where I needed to go. I also knew I had to get there early. As in, SIX IN THE MORNING. On Sunday. What I didn’t anticipate was that the ACTUAL Los Angeles Flower Mart being closed on Sundays. Nope, didn’t see that one coming. Never fear though, as there were some vendors open. I just had to walk a lot to get to them. I mean, from where I parked. Lol. That left me wandering around with people who either lived on those streets, or worked in the bloom business. I’ll be honest. Downtown LA can be, um…unsettling at that hour folks…especially when you are alone, have that “where the eff do I go now?” look on your face, and stick out like a sore thumb wearing yoga pants, and sporting a ponytail! Let’s just say I was very aware of my surroundings, and leave it at that.

Now, what does one who possesses ZERO formal knowledge about flowers do at the Flower Mart? Shop by color, of course. I designed the Evite, and planned to match that color scheme: teal, dark purple, dark blue and lime green. In addition, I wanted to use that mossy, hanging stuff the set designers used in the Twilight: Breaking Dawn wedding scene. Oh, and twisty brown twigs. Very Midsummer Night’s Dream. Guess you could say I had a vision. Oh, and the mossy, hanging stuff? I now know it is called Amaranthus, just in case you were wondering. And it comes in green and red. So this was a learning experience on several levels.

It took me all of 40 minutes to choose the perfect flowers, and hike back to the car. And bulk flowers are rather heavy, people. Didn’t know that either. My arms are still sore..lol. Nonetheless, I made it. By the time I got home and set up my makeshift floral studio on the patio (i.e. a wooden stool and our glass patio table) The Man and The Girls were just getting out of bed, and wandered out to see what I was working on. The Man said “OMG. Who did that?” To which I replied (after looking behind me) “What do you mean? Do you see a staff here helping? I DID IT!” To be fair, neither he nor I knew I had it in me, as this was a maiden voyage into the land of arranging petals, stems and leaves for me. We shared a laugh, he told me how proud he was of me, and my creativity, and he had never seen me attempt anything that hadn’t turned out exactly as I planned. Well, except that lemon icebox pie I attempted and failed at. Six. Different. Times. But I don’t bake. So, whatever.

After channeling my inner florist, and all was said and done, I designed a large arrangement for the main table (pictured above), and a smaller replica for the gift table, pictured below:

Gift table

Gift table

The celebration was spectacular! Just what the mommy-to-be wanted. A big thanks goes out to my co-hostess, Heidi. She was feeling a little under the weather, but you never would have known, as she was the picture of elegance and hostess-with-the mostess. Hung in there like a trooper! I see sainthood in her future. 🙂 While I took care of the flowers, games and prizes, Heidi took care of the favors, and arranged the venue/food with her friend Bibo Mohamed, a supervisor at Coupa Cafe in Beverly Hills. A big shout out goes to him, and the owner, Camelia Coupal! The set-up was perfect, the food delicious, and the service was impeccable, thanks to the fabulous staff. If you live in the LA area, enjoy Venezuelan cuisine, and have the opportunity to visit this wonderful restaurant, you will definitely not be disappointed! And request Sarah. She’s was our server, and is a complete doll. 🙂

All in all, the day was a glorious success, from very early start to finish. I found a new creative outlet, and learned a few things about flowers. The gorgeous mama was showered with lots of love and positive energy, which is so important when you feel like there is an alien inside you lying on your bladder, kicking your ribs, and making you crave strange foods that give you heartburn immediately after eating them. She can rest easy knowing she has all the things she needs now. And The Man and I have a new restaurant to visit on our next date night. Now, if that baby will just hurry up and get here so we can get a formal introduction and shower him with hugs and kisses, life will be perfect. 🙂

xo,

N

The table set-up before everyone arrived.

The table set-up before everyone arrived.

 

Well, I couldn’t just sit here and watch, now could I?

It took a village, but we did it! Twice :-)

It took a village, but we did it! Twice 🙂

One year ago today, after returning from a Spring Break outing with The Girls, we decided to cool off in the pool. As I watched them splash and frolic, I logged onto FB and saw disturbing status updates from my friends and family back home in Alabama. Things like “angry skies here” and “debris falling in my yard y’all”. Immediately, I jerked up the phone and called my sister in North Alabama. Luckily, I got through, but what I heard on the other end was soul-shaking. My big sister, whom I’ve always known to be a pillar of strength, was crying hysterically. My own voice cracked, as I asked “What’s happening? Is everybody in our family okay? What do you need?” 

That phone call changed my life. Forever.

Some of the most devastating tornadoes on record ravaged my home state of Alabama that day. This EF-5 skipped over my sister’s home, but made contact with the ground just down the road from her, tearing up an entire community, quite close to my brother’s home. But that wasn’t the worst of it. My niece, Meaghan, who taught middle school in Tuscaloosa, was literally in the center of the devastation, and my sister couldn’t get down there to her. A mother’s panic. I know that feeling. Fortunately, I am happy to report that her life was spared by a sheer miracle from God, while everything around her crumbled. However, when the dust settled, she would discover that many of her students had been effected, and life would never be the same. Never.

For those of you unfamiliar with what a tornado looks like, you can see the one that ripped through Tuscaloosa here. And the devastation and confusion left in Limestone County, where I grew up, can be seen here. So many small rural communities were affected though. Some completely wiped out...Hackleburg, and Phil Campbell, just to name a couple.

I knew I only had one choice: start gathering donations to send back home. So that’s what I did. Without a clue in the world how I would get them there, I began collecting clothing and supplies. I blasted on FB that ‘my people’ needed help, and arranged a drop-off point at the school my girls attended. My friend Jen Levinson, who is the genius behind Jen’s List, helped get the word out too. Donations began to pour in. In 72 hours, I had more than I knew what to do with.

My own family had just downsized into a new house three weeks earlier, after losing ours to foreclosure (which I will get to later, in a different post). So I had plenty of boxes. But they were full of our stuff. What to do? Unload our stuff onto the floor and put the much-needed supplies for the tornado victims in the boxes. Bingo! By the time the sorting and boxing at my house was over with, it looked like I belonged on an episode of Hoarders. I shit you not. 

Anyway, despite the rapid response of friends, and the kindness of complete strangers, I still had a very big problem: WTF was I going to do about getting the donations 2000+ miles across the country to their destination? After calling multiple shipping companies, AND the USPS to see if they would ship the boxes for free, like they did when Hurricane Katrina hit in 2005, I pretty much hit a dead-end. I even contacted Charlie Sheen to see if he would be willing to bankroll it, since he was in need of some good PR at the time. At first the response was promising, but then he decided to donate a million dollars himself. Which let him off the hook. Soon, it became clear that I might have to rent a truck and drive them myself. Or rather, have The Man drive them 🙂

Then something wonderful happened. A friend from college, Spence Maughon, who saw my desperate pleas on FB, and who also happens to live in LA, sent me a message about another relief effort being organized here in town, in conjunction with Toomers for Tuscaloosa and RollBamaRoll. If you know anything about the history of Alabama Football, you know what a miracle it was for Auburn fans to be helping Alabama fans, because although both are state universities, they are bitter rivals on the field. Just Google “Iron Bowl. But I digress. A few emails later, I was in contact with the ring leader. A truly remarkable woman named Ashli Wolf. A kindred spirit who loves Alabama as much as I do, and knows exactly what a “church key” is. Over the course of the next few weeks, she would become my new best friend. She was already well into the organization of the T4T effort, so her house became Ground Zero. This is what it looked like in the days leading up to, and finally the night before the first truck left:

Tangible proof of the generosity of strangers.

Tangible proof of the generosity of strangers.

Even the kids did their part, learning a valuable lesson about helping and giving.

Even the kids did their part, learning a valuable lesson about helping and giving.

 

Friendships were formed during the wake of disaster. This is me and Mandi, sharing a laugh. She'll be a sister-friend for life.

Friendships were formed during the wake of disaster. This is me and Mandi, sharing a laugh. She’ll be a sister-friend for life.

 

We worked way into the night. And the next morning this stuff left on The Sunshine Express, bound for T-Town.

We worked way into the night. And the next morning this stuff left on The Sunshine Express, bound for T-Town. 

LITTLE DID WE KNOW, BUT THIS WAS JUST THE BEGINNING, FOLKS. 

Hauling pet food. Tornados effect everyone, you know.

Hauling pet food. Tornados effect everyone, you know.

Just after I snapped this photo, and while all the volunteers were busy sorting, boxing and getting this stuff ready for travel, The Man, decided to make a phone call. To Fox 11 News-LA. Just to give them the heads up about what we were doing out there in Woodland Hills. They sent Hal Eisner to cover us live, for the 10 o’ clock broadcast that night, and then sent Phil Shuman back out the next morning before the truck left. Needless to say, it opened up a few more possibilities to get help for the folks in Alabama. You can watch the clip here.

That is how California for Alabama was born. After the word got out about the FB page, we were flooded with tons of donations and volunteers from all over Southern California. Everything you can imagine, from hand sanitizer, toothbrushes and diapers to work gloves, shovels and cleaning supplies. Offers from a company in Moreno Valley poured in for free boxes to sort things into. Corey and Ruthie Braun, both UA Alumni, and owners of Chick-fil-A in Rancho Cucamonga, fed our volunteers. People donated entire apartments full of furniture. There was even an air hockey table!

So, how did we get it all there?

At first, the plan Ashli and I had was straight out of “I Love Lucy”. We were going to split the cost 50-50. She’d tell her hubs that I paid for it, while I told mine she did, just like something Lucy and Ethel would pull. One way or another, that stuff was getting there. Fortunately, Conway Trucking Company stepped in, and supplied us with a rig, a driver, and not one…but TWO 28 foot trailers to help with that, plus they covered the fuel costs! And again, Hal Eisner came out to cover the second round. 

People helping people, and belonging to each other. It just doesn’t get any better, does it? Powerful stuff to restore faith in humanity going on up in there, folks. And again, it didn’t stop once the truck rolled out of the driveway. In August 2011, with the help of Jennifer Blake, another sweet Bama Belle living in LA, we were able to hold a benefit and raise some money. With these funds, trees were purchased from Habitat for Humanity and planted where so many had been ripped from the soil. This made us, and Mother Nature happy 🙂

Poster from the Benefit

Poster from the Benefit

Me, Jen and Ashli explaining our mission.

Me, Jen and Ashli explaining our mission.

And cracking up like old friends do. Mind you, we'd all just met a few months earlier.

And cracking up like old friends do. Mind you, we’d all just met a few months earlier.

In closing, I would like to add that during all of this havoc, my oldest daughter was doing her required, 5th grade, state report on…you guessed it: ALABAMA. Not only was she able to report all the usual things needed to educate someone on the Great State of Alabama, she also included a section on how the tornadoes impacted the area and its victims. In addition, she told about how she, herself was able to directly help. The whole experience effected her deeply, and it was reflected in her report. Here was her display:

The best state report EVER.

The best state report EVER.

On this one year anniversary of the worst devastation Alabama has ever known, let me say I am beaming with pride to claim both Alabama and California as my home. I proudly display my Southern roots like a badge of honor as I journey through my Hollywood life. Today I salute you both!

xo,

The Calibamamom

*A very special thanks to my husband, Chris, who jumped onboard this effort with both feet, never once calling me crazy or saying it couldn’t be done. He stretched his time to its limits, juggling a busy work schedule with running the wheels off his truck picking up and dropping off people, as well as donations all over Los Angeles. HE MADE THE CALL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING. His love for me, and my home state was never more apparent than during this crisis, and his unwavering support will never be forgotten.

**There are so many people who contributed to this effort, both here, and on the receiving end in Alabama. Here is a list of those I didn’t directly mention in the post: my sister, Shane Jackson and her ‘boots on the ground’ crew from Churches Involved in Athens, Alabama; David Wolf and the precious Wolf children (Joseph and Ava); Kirsten and Jeff Mason, and their family; Sarah Rathburn Hancock; Michael Brock; Paige Ryan; Cliff, the driver of the first truck; Sara Dean and her man, Kevin; Aubrey and Matt Vick; Deborah Guilfoyle and her family; Kim Poirier; Kecia Newton and her hubby; Ryan Stephens and the United States Navy men stationed at Port Hueneme; Kelly Flores; the guys at Tosh.0; Margie; Kathy Krodel Chester; all the parents and staff at First Presbyterian Weekday School; Leslie Aqua Viva; Lori Nelson; Heidi Myers; Eric and Elise Gilbert; Victoria Vaccaro; the band, OK GO!; Alfred Hopton; Kit Wallace and Blued Eyed Entertainment; Karen Sinclair Drake and her amazing company, Sophyto; Ann Mangini & Rafinity; Tracy Flores and her man, Alec; the driver of the second truck whose name I never knew; and ALL THE OTHERS WHO CONTRIBUTED GENEROUSLY, WITH NOT ONLY DONATIONS OF TANGIBLE GOODS AND SERVICES, BUT ALSO THEIR TIME AS WELL.

God Bless You All.

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