Oh, yeah... it's always been this way!

My good friend Jen, out of sunny CA, called today to commiserate with my recent experiences with the children. Seems that she can relate as her daughter recently stuck a wooden QTip in her toddler brother's ear (far enough to land them in urgent care), as well as gave their kitty's whiskers a very short trim. All in one day. Thank God I'm not alone in all of this.

Jen also reminded me that this Katie-mess-making stuff is not so new, as evidenced from an old email she forwarded to me today. To think this was written almost EXACTLY three years ago to the date (sigh)...

Recipe for Disaster:

1 container Vaseline
1 bottle Baby Powder
A few dashes of Baby Oil
1 Extra Large bottle of Baby Lotion
A two-and-a-half-year old

Place all ingredients in a room unsupervised for 15 minutes. Be sure that it is very quiet in the room before entering it, otherwise the recipe is not working correctly.

Enter room to find mixture of the ingredients throughout the room, rubbed evenly in the carpet, on the walls, curtains, back of a rocking chair and evenly distributed throughout the toddler's hair. IMPORTANT: You will want to clean, but this mixture is impenetrable. Let dry a few hours until carpet changes to a dingy color.

After carpet is adequately ruined, walls are stained and the toddler's hair has been washed using shampoo, baking soda and other home remedies, you should have a disaster well on its way. Now dry the toddler's hair, put cornstarch in it to bring out the Vaseline, and you should have a complete disaster, such as the one pictured here.

We recently tried this recipe for Complete Disaster in our home just after placing our house on the market and it worked wonderfully. We also found that similar results can be achieved by substituted lipstick and eyeshadow for baby powder and Vaseline, which we tried on our Open House day. Enjoy!

Not much has changed since the last use of the recip... but I will let you know that you can exponentially increase the quantity of COMPLETE DISASTER if you add another child to the recipe.

Not what I had planned...

I awoke this morning, once again, to chaos and disaster. This time the girls had taken the newly purchased DragonBerry Shampoo and Blueberry Burst Body Wash and lathered everything from waist-height down on the lower level of our house into bubbles (or at least applied a slimy film which would later be "bubbled"). Seriously, what did I do in my past life to deserve this retribution?!

Every baby doll, both dogs, the coffee table, all the Disney plasticine toys, the Shliech animals, the bathroom sink, floor and both girls' lower extremeties were covered in the sticky goo. "But Mommy," Katie told me as I repressed a scream of rage as I realized the magnitude of the latest morning disaster, "We didn't go outside. And now the house smells good." I rinsed and washed, producing even more bubbles (much to their delight) and still found a spot on the carpet that is deeply stained with shampoo. I ran the steam vac over it this afternoon only to... you guessed it... produce more bubbles.

I threatened Katie with an eternity of time out if she makes one SINGLE other mess before I can hit the bottom of the stairs in the morning. Double eternity if she lets Sadie out of her crib. Her reply? Sadie can get out on her own now. Oh crap.

I never got a chance to memorialize George Carlin, one of my all-time favorite comedians who passed away last week. I did so this morning by muttering, thinking or screaming into a pillow six of the seven dirtiest words from his old 70's routine. The 7th word just didn't apply, or I would have used that one, too.

To make it all even better, I'm having some hellacious withdrawals from a medication I started a couple of months ago. When I had Katie, I began to suffer from anxiety attacks (though I didn't know that is what they were at the time). I did some medications back then for a few months, got my head screwed on straight again, and weaned off of them. I'd been able to control them since (now knowing what they were and how they came on) on my own, but in March they began to rear their ugly head once again. I wonder why? That was about the time the girls started their early morning escapades. So, I went to my primary care "nurse" (do doctors still exist?) and asked for something to help me along for a while. She gave me Cymbalta.

Two drugged-out weeks later I started having weird symptoms. Increased anxiety (but no panic attacks) and newly onset depression that I'd never before experienced. Insomnia. Cold sweats. Hot flashes. Irritability (yes, I can be worse!). Constipation like a... well, like it was not good. Then last week in New Orleans it doubled, and I added the shakes to the list. Enough was enough, so I quit. Cold turkey. I had only been on it for about 50 days, so figured I'd do every other day for a week and stop.

Now I have more fun symptoms. Night terrors (which I've never had before). Aching all over. Sharp pains in my legs and feet. Blurry vision. Extreme fatigue. Chills. What the heck?! I looked it all up online tonight and found out that these are all fairly common withdrawal symptoms from Cymbalta. I should have known, given my (and my kids') history with meds. I'm about to go the Tom Cruise route and get all psycho about pharmaceuticals. Tomorrow I get to visit with the lovely nurse who suggested this route toward wellness. I can't wait. She has no idea what she's in for. If I'm in a padded room by the end of the day, please promise to visit and wear a sunny yellow color to cheer me up.

So yeah. After being home for two nights full of night terrors, bathroom visits and incessant sweating, I'm awoken to what looks like a slime attack from a Ghostbusters flick. The devil mommy on one shoulder was oh so close to convincing me to spank them both and send them to bed, as advised in nursery rhymes and by most parents with more than 5 children. But angel-Montessori-loving mommy on the other side balanced her out and the girls ended up with a stern admonishment, a few timeouts throughout the day as required and the threat of eternal timeout and no-playdates-ever-again for Katie should she ever decide to do this again.

Please, please, let the threats work. I need a morning off!!!

Microwave science and the Big Easy

Last Sunday, my two staff members (my sister, K and employee/friend, A) loaded up the Expedition for a trip to New Orleans. The road trip would take about 16 hours each way, so they decided to start it off with a bang - by writing cute slogans about our clients on the back and sides of the truck to amuse passing motorists. We discovered that people who drive Prius' LOVE microwave science. Also, several truckers got a kick out of Maxwell's equation. Who knew?

Many hours later, we found ourselves having dinner in Newnan, GA. The waitresses all welcomed us with a resounding "Haaayyyyy!" each time we'd enter from our outdoor table to use the restroom. We stopped for the night in beautiful Greenville, AL, which boasted two empty drug stores, a WinDixie that didn't open until 10 a.m. on Mondays, the world's smallest WalMart and a white shack with a sign that said it was Bush's headquarters. Not surprising in the least. We frequently giggled at the names of the local Alabama sites... Shorter, Pine Apple (two words), as well as the "famous" Hank Williams shrine and, of course, roadkill armadillos. Sadly, the armadillos were the most exciting thing to see during that long stretch.

The second day on the road went quickly, and we were surprised to find ourselves amidst the devastation of Hurricane Katrina so far from New Orleans. The Mississippi coastline was littered with demolished warehouses, uninhabitable apartment complexes, still-tarped single family homes and what looked like grave yards of concrete slabs that used to support houses. I had heard of the destruction, realized we may see some of the aftermath, but never in a million years expected to see the level of devastation... especially three years after the hurricane had hit the area.

The destruction continued well into New Orleans, until we found ourselves close to the French Quarter, which had been spared from the storm's destruction, but was worse for the wear. A block from our hotel we observed pimps and prostitutes, looted storefronts, empty-eyed homeless and barely-standing low-cost housing. From the point where our hotel started (Bourbon/Canal/Iberville block), the area seemed to look more-or-less as I remembered it... dirty, colorful, smelly, loud and full of excitement. We dropped off our bags and headed into the Quarter, where I was dismayed to see teenage girls clustered outside of "gentlemen's" (ha!) clubs in broad daylight, barely clad, and even more disheartened to see some so clearly lost to this world. By the end of Bourbon Street I had thought the city was no longer worth a visit, but as we turned onto Royal Street, my heart began to patter with excitement at seeing my favorite artists' galleries still present, the smell of Cajun foods and the sights and sounds of one of the US's oldest and most authentic cities. Man, I love New Orleans.

We stopped by the Riverwalk for a hurricane and some fried onions and chatted with a local bartender who had lived all her life in New Orleans. When the hurricane hit, her family had invested 20 years of their 30-year mortgage into their home. They had flood insurance, thoughmost of her neighborhood did not as they were close to a levy (deemed by FEMA as safe, thus removing the requirement for homeowners insurers in the area to require flood coverage). The flood coverage paid out the last 10 years of her mortgage. Twenty years of investment, along with all personal valuables and belongings, were lost. And she felt like she was one of the lucky ones. They rebuilt, and stayed. Most of her neighborhood left, and she didn't think they'd ever be back. It made me stop for a moment, and thank my lucky stars for all I have.

The next day we woke early and scurried about getting ready for the symposium, board meetings and other "real" reasons we were there. By three we were free again for a few hours, and jumped aboard the St Charles trolley to the Garden District and Magazine. K and A were mesmerized by the overwhelming smells of jasmine and roses and the towering, century old crepe myrtles and twisted magnolias that hung over the streets. We enjoyed peeping into the gardens of the antebellum mansions and perused the LaFayette Cemetary #1 to check out the infamous above-ground vaults of the long-dead. On Magazine we found a Mexican dive and imbibed in a margarita and taco salad before heading back to get ready for an evening of riveting discussion at a board meeting for our microwave science group. The meeting was held at the Red Fish Grill, which was pretty good, but overly loud, slow and boasting obnoxious waiters who called you "sweetie" and "dear" while bustling about doing everything in the world to avoid actual service of the customers.

On Wednesday our conference started, and we enjoyed catching up with our favorite international scientists, technical sales folks and other greats in the field of electromagnetic energy. We developed a few new nicknames (our favorite pastime at these events) for some newly introduced characters (Cookie Monster, Dracula, the Mercenary, Milton), as well as some who had not yet been inducted into our nickname hall of fame (McGyver, Romanian Thong-Slinger, Dirty FrenchMan)... all while lamenting those that were missing this year from our list of favorites (WonkEye, YaccoBlech and BigHead).

Thursday brought another breathtaking day of discoveries in microwave energy applications, followed by an even more exciting private dinner cruise on the Mississippi River. I made the mistake of feeling sorry for K and A's lack of New Orleans experiences in the trip thus far, and let them off the hook from the event so that they could find their own trouble in the Quarter while I herded about two dozen scientists, researchers and their wives and children down the winding streets to the river. I laughed aloud at the thought of the blog entry I had hoped to write that night, devoted strictly to directing the group through five blocks. Herding cats, indeed. The group, however, were even more conversationally challenged than I could have imagined, and I was exhausted by the mental anguish I'd suffered during my four hours aboard the smoky, creaking boat and went straight to bed. Not to mention the stuff they tried to serve on board that they called a "Creole feast." I ate nothing but white rice and a roll. That good.

Friday was the last day of our event, and I had the girls packing before noon so that we could make an escape the minute the conference wrapped up. During our closing reception, I invited an acquaintance to join us for dinner, Dirty Frenchman overheard and invited himself, and then we decided to invite one more to make it an even number. We rushed to close the exhibit area, pack and get ready for our one night on the town. We wandered through the Quarter until our dinner reservations, which were set at 9:30 p.m. at Emerill LaGasse's NoLa restaurant. THAT was worth eating a week's worth of steamboat cruise crap to have. I had the shrimp and grits, and it was to DIE for.

Our company for the night was beyond entertaining. Our party was something one would use to begin a joke... "Three American girls went out with an Italian, a Canadian Frenchman and a guy from Omaha for dinner...". The Italian introduced us to the finer points of grappe (I could find no finer points, but was introduced none the less), and we enjoyed a stimulating conversation that covered everything taboo in normal gatherings - from religion to politics (I found this week that Europeans are enthralled with current US politics) to music to, well, we covered it all before being booted from the restaurant at midnight. We found ourselves wandering the streets of the Quarter the rest of the night, taking in some jazz and blues, and finally landed at our hotel's courtyard pool (where the Romanian thong-flinger made her debut). We were all sad when we finally had to call it quits at 5:30 a.m. to hit our beds for a few hours sleep before heading out the next morning on our respective return trips home. I can't remember the last time I've had so much fun - it's been at least a few years.


The next morning K, A and I loaded up the truck and headed out of the city. I was a bit worse for the wear that morning and drifted in and out of consciousness in back until we hit Alabama. The rest of our day was a lot of fun as we discussed and rediscussed our previous night, the new characters in our "play" and the sights, sounds and smells from their first trip to the Big Easy. In Atlanta we hit a major traffic jam, but we thoroughly enjoyed it as we blasted Neal Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" (much to the amusement of local Hotlantans), took pictures of a General Lee replica on I-85 and developed television plots based upon our new "characters" (e.g. The Microwave Mafia, Electromagnetic Survivor (6 microwave scientists stuck in a lab with no way out), and The Ultimate Warrior). We spent the night on the border of Georgia and South Carolina and found a real-live drivethru that the local teens actually hung out at. All in all, a good day of travel.

I wish I could say yesterday was as exciting, but we were done. We'd had all the fun we could possibly squeeze out of a scientific conference, Mad Libs and 20-Questions, and drove most of the remainder of the way in silence, trying to find a decent radio station since the CD player burned out in the truck. We were back home at 8 p.m. and K and A departed before the truck was even in Park. I was thrilled, however, to get back to my kids, both human and furry.

Next up... Japan. I'm excited, especially knowing now that some of my favorite characters from last week will be there (Romanian Thong-Slinger, Cookie Monster and more!).

On a side note, check out these awesome digs in Richmond for rent... what a bargain.

Kicking Off the Summer

Summer has barely started, but we've been busy.

Katie's preschool days are officially over, and she graduated near the end of May. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm a bit sad... she just seems to be growing up too quickly. Since graduation she's also finished up a season of soccer (and received her first-ever trophy, which she is SOOO proud of), had a ballet recital, stayed a week with her cousins and grandparents, went to a local amusement park with a friend and has still found lots of time to climb the walls and tell me how bored she is. This is week 3 of summer. Here's a few photo updates of our fun...

The Dora-The-Hooker Dress. Here it is. The most hideous children's apparel ever conceived. Notice the black and white polka-dots. Purple, lime green and orange stripes on the skirt, completed with pink tights and ballet slippers. And, you can't see it well here, but there's a round disk pinned to her head that matches. For this costume, we paid $60. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

At both her rehearsal and recital I held back tears derived from laughter. The little ones were just so cute, it was almost unbearable. Of course Katie's class had the ugliest dresses ever imagined. The other prima ballerinas had gorgeous, poofy dresses that reminded one of sugarplums, flowers, and childhood dreams of fairy land.

Katie's reminded me of women that I've seen working the streets in Tijiuana.



Dressing Herself. Sadie's all about doing everything herself these days. She picks out her own clothes most days and screams the others when I insist she wear something that is presentable outside of the house.

Here we see her wearing her very FAVORITE thing in the world - the Gap Rainbow Jacket. The Gap Rainbow Jacket is worn even on 100 degree days with humitures over 110. I don't fight it. I figure she'll take it off if she gets hot enough.

Her other favorites are also in use in this photo. Notice the poofy, flowery skirt. It has matching knickers that she loves to show anyone who wants to see them. And the black, shiny shoes with rhinestones. This girl loves the bling.

She is very particular about her clothing, and once she chooses a favorite, I have to be sure to wash it at least twice weekly... she won't go anywhere without it.


Popsicles and the Pool. Jason's only request for Father's Day was that we spent the day together relaxing. We had planned a trip to the amusement park, but skipped out when it got too hot outside. Instead, our entire family enjoyed a great day outside. The girls lounged in the pool, sucking on popsicles, until they decided to get rowdy and drench mommy and daddy with the water that is now no longer in the pool. It was a nice relaxing day - one we rarely share together, with all four of us just enjoying the outdoors and each other's company. I hope for many more days like this this summer!

Why I'm frustrated with my career choice

This week I've attended over a dozen meetings for a handful of organizations, in person and via teleconference. And I only worked part-time most days.

I have enjoyed my career choice for years, but things are changing, fast. The issue with my job is that I have outdated organizations - stuck in beauracracy. They are lost to the impact millenials are already having on the need for collaborative identity of the organization (as opposed to old-school, board-dictated identity). I've mentioned the Obama campaign a dozen of times this week as an illustration of this change - how new technology (for example Web 2.0) is an indicator of major change in the world of nonprofits... in the way we communicate, in how people perceive an organization, and, most importantly, that the stakeholders of the organizations (whether they are consumers, members, leaders or volunteers) will define in their own way what an organization is, despite the leadership's best attempts to retain hierarchy and decide what is "best" for their flock. C'mon folks, get with the program already, before it's too late! Sheesh.

I was trying to soothe my aching head and jangled nerves tonight by diving into my favorite blogosphere spots when I came across this gem...

From a declassified CIA manual on Simple Sabotage, circa 1944, to create general interference with organizations:

• Insist on doing everything through “channels.” Never permit short-cuts to be taken in order to expedite decisions.
• Make “speeches.” Talk as frequently as possible and at great length. Illustrate your “points” by long anecdotes and accounts of per sonal experiences. Never hesitate to make a few appropriate “patriotic” comments.
• When possible, refer all matters to committees, for “further study and considera tion.” Attempt to make the committees as large as possible — never less than five.
• Bring up irrelevant issues as frequently as possible.
• Haggle over precise wordings of communications, minutes, resolutions.
• Refer back to matters decided upon at the last meeting and attempt to re-open the question of the advisability of that decision.
• Advocate “caution.” Be “reasonable” and urge your fellow-conferees to be “reason able” and avoid haste which might result in embarrassments or difficulties later on.
• Be worried about the propriety of any decision — raise the question of whether such action as is contemplated lies within the juris diction of the group or whether it might conflict with the policy of some higher echelon.

That so clearly sums up my meetings this week, and makes it official... the CIA is infiltrating my clients' leadership and governing structures, ready to sabotage my best attempts to lead them into a new era. Sabotage, I tell you!

Or, maybe I just need a vacation.

Another Mixed Bag

Renewed Ban on Walmart. Due to the need to penny pinch thanks to ever inflating gas prices and the inability to get rid of our gas-guzzling SUV, I broke my promise and headed to my most hated, dreaded, local W. I finally justified my hiatus from shopping there - not a penny saved. I spent quite a while perusing, carefully seeking bargains. What I found is that my beloved Targét is MUCH less expensive in most areas - kids clothes (and much more stylish), snack foods, toiletries and diapers to name the big ones. Yay - I can once again justify my hatred of the ugly side of big business!

Preschool Ballet Rocks. More to come on that in a later post, when I load the photos and video. Let's just say I cried my eyes out... from laughter. It was well worth every penny invested in the hideous, Dora the Hooker costume for that one hour of comedy.

Yackity Yack. Sadie's talking up a storm these days. Today she got a scrape on her knee. Tonight she told me as I changed her "Mama, I Bad Boo Boo Knee" clear as a bell. She's 21 months in 2 days. She loves to boss Katie around... "TahTay, BAFF!" "TahTay, KeenUp!" and "TahTay, go ny-ny."

Japan is ON! Yep... it's definite... I'm going in 8 weeks!

More requests for your energy/thoughts/prayers:

• Amanda is back in the big house for another intensive round of chemo in an effort to wipe out the leukemia cells that survived the first round. Also, it looks like she's facing bone marrow transplant in the near future. Stay strong, 'Manda!
  
• Jameson is back home and healing after a successful Fontan (heart surgery). Hooray!
• Harlie goes in tomorrow for her jaw reconstruction. Good luck, Harlie, and hang in there, Christy!!!!
  

Worst. Morning. Ever.

I awoke to the sound of a cat mewing this morning. Strange, I thought to myself in my semi-conscious state... our cat Buster doesn't meow. He makes a gutteral "growww" sound. But this was definitely a meow. Hmmm.

I opened my bedroom door to find a strange cat sitting there. Interesting. How did he/she get into my house?

I stumbled in to brush my teeth and put on some eyes (glasses or contacts) so that I could get a better look at our feline visitor. As I put in my first contact, I thought 'maybe he came in last night with Jason, who didn't notice.' As I put in the next contact I realized it was quiet downstairs... too quiet. Especially for 7 a.m. I raced down the stairs.

As I came to the bottom of the flight, I heard a bump and a scream. Katie and Sadie were by our kitchen door, wearing jackets and their pajamas. Katie was yelling at Carlie that she was a bad dog for knocking over Sadie. Sadie was howling.

I went over to pick up Sadie and to scold Katie - first for getting her sister out of her crib (a no-no) and second for taking her outdoors without permission while mommy and daddy slept (a not-previously explained no-no, but a common sense no-no). While lecturing Katie, I noticed a smell. And that Sadie's butt was soaked. And that the smell was overpowering, and worse by the second. I pulled out the full trash bag from our kitchen can, ready to stick the soon-to-be discarded diaper in it and took Sadie to the changing table. She was covered in poo - not solid, not cute, but the nasty, sticky, diarrhea type of stuff. Those who are eating while reading this may want to stop now.

As I mopped up Sadie and gagged profusely, I failed to hear the rustling coming from the kitchen area. I'd also forgotten about the strange cat in our home. I was intent on hazmat removal of toxic substances. I finished with the diaper duty to discover that underneath it all, Sadie had the worst diaper rash. Ever. She howled as I tried to wipe her, and screamed when I put Desitin on. Great.

I wrapped up the diaper in the first of many bags to dispose of and took it to the kitchen. Only to discover that the dogs had pulled out aforementioned trashbag and had strewn the contents all across my carpet in the living room. Yes, that carpet that I'd spent two hours the night before steam cleaning. That's the one.

As I picked up trash, I discovered another surprise. A mostly-melted popsicle (bright red and purple) sitting on our entertainment center, dripping steadily on... you guessed it... the freshly cleaned carpet. Oh joyous day.

I knew Sadie wasn't feeling great, but decided it was still a great day to go to Grandma's for some babysitting. So I struggled to get everyone in the car, to my mom's and back. Coming back, I opened the door only to be almost bowled over by one freaked- out cat that did not belong to me. He shot out that door like lightening - no doubt due to the smell emanating from our no-longer-fresh-scented home. I broke out the Lysol, stripped Sadie's room, re-steam-cleaned, lit every candle I owned and, for good measure, brewed some coffee to help offset the overwhelming aromas floating about our home. My employee later went in to use the restroom, and noted how fresh it smelled in our home. Hah.

I need to install some new locks. At first I thought about keyed locks that have the keyhole on both sides. Then I realized that that would be a serious fire hazard. So then I thought a chain lock would do it, then I realized that Katie would just stand on a chair and open it. And if Katie does that now, who knows what her rebel-rouser sister will do in a year or two.

I asked Katie tonight when I put her to bed how long they'd played outside this morning. (I'd asked her the same thing this morning during the "lecture" and she said just a few minutes). She informed me that it wasn't that long... they had waited for the sun to come up first.

I told a few people this story today, and I got the usual, "You'll miss these days when they get older." Actually, no I won't. I may miss the age, or the giggles, cuddles and laughs, but I will NOT miss the diarrhea-filled, strange-cat laden, floor-ruining, heart-stopping days like this. Not. At. All.

To SAHM or Not to SAHM

That is the question. When I became pregnant with Katie, I was working at a hospice in the Roanoke Valley. I commuted, on average, 45 minutes each way, so was gone from home approximately 11 hours a day. I knew that once Katie came, I did not want to be gone those long hours from my little one. Yet I knew I needed income. And I needed mental stimulation. Thankfully, the perfect solution came along, I landed a client, started a business and was up and running two months after giving birth to Katie with my ongoing career in nonprofit management. I had a good setup - I worked from home, could flex my hours anyway I chose (within reason) to coordinate with her schedule, had college kids watch her and went to school full time. I even bartended on the side for a few months to make ends meet.

When we relocated, I took the business with me. I was determined to add another full-time client so that I could add the support staff I needed. I enrolled Katie in preschool part-time, which gave me just enough time to work in the morning, plus an hour or two while she slept in the afternoon and a few late-night hours. My day was work and childcare, and I didn't know many people in our area, so began to feel very isolated and alone. I wondered if I'd made the right choice. That said, Katie was blossoming, and I'm thankful I stayed with the business. My client was doing well, which was also satisfying for me.

Two months before Sadie's impending arrival, I took on a new client. The client was in a lot of trouble, and I knew it would be a rough transitional period. I hoped to have the files in place, history reviewed, finances up to code and standards and the office in good order before I left. I hired an assistant, who caught on quickly and felt confident it would be OK. I may even be able to take a week or two off work with the baby came. Then all hell broke loose.

The week before Sadie's arrival, my new client was having some major issues. My older client was in the process of obtaining an international contract and revitalization. The timing of these major events couldn't be worse. Then Sadie arrived with unexpected complications. Luckily, I had her on Labor Day, so I was off work, as was Jason. She was diagnosed with her heart defect that night, and the following day I was at UVA with her, miles from home. Unfortunately, she was a week early, and I had a major meeting that day. So I conducted it while standing outside of the hospital. I worked that night once her stats stabilized. I worked almost every day in that hospital.

When we got home, I continued to work, through the sleepless nights of withdrawal, through the days of ceaseless crying. I had thought she'd nap twice a day or so, so that I could use the downtime to work, and then work in the evenings when the kids went to bed. We all know how that turned out. I began to think that working from home was a terrible choice. Months went by, without a break until almost one year after I had her, when I took a week off and only checked email once a day. As a small business owner, and executive director of one international and one national group, there's no such thing as unplugging.

Now I find myself in a dilemma. I'm not looking for outside work - I enjoy being able to spend some time with the kids, but also work. The problem is I have little to no time outside of work and children. I'm suffocating in the confines of our home. And, I feel like I have less quality time with the children than ever. My time with them during the days is spent driving, eating, running errands. We rarely have the opportunity to sit and play until the evening. I feel like a bad mom, and guilty that I can't spend more time with them. At the same time, I feel like a failure as a business professional because I'm hitting a major burnout and am ready for change. I'd love to take a year or so off and just be a stay at home mom (SAHM), but I can't... the series of financial misfortunes we've suffered since Sadie's arrival have taken their toll on our budget flexibility.

So, I've kind of been watching for something outside the home. Not really actively looking, just watching. I don't want to give up things like taking Katie to her first day of school, afternoon gossip about what happened on the playground, random tickle fights with Sadie when I run in from the office to use the restroom during the day. But at the same time I feel like a shadow of myself, a flower that doesn't get enough sun, one of those kind of analogies. I miss the adult world, the mental stimulation of face-to-face interaction with colleagues on a daily basis. We do play dates from time to time, but I find that I have less and less time for them as the demands of my job seem to increase monthly. In a nutshell, I'm at a breaking point.

Today I came across MY job. That dream job I've been thinking of for months now. The new direction I want to take my career in. And it's only minutes from my home. I'm considering applying, but I'm torn... could I still be there for my kids as much as I am now? Would it be more or less time with them? More importantly, would the time we spend together have more or less quality to it? Do I want to really change my life this drastically? Then there's the company the job is with... there are some ethical issues they have, yet this job would be, in part, rectifying some of the problems (it's a corporate social responsibility position). What to do? What to do?

This post is way too long... I'm just wondering from my online friends out there, what do you think? I guess I can always apply... there's a good possibility I might not even get a call back on it. But if I did, would I want it? Could I be a good mom when working outside the home? I know many moms do it, but could I? Would the kids suffer? I just don't know... but I do know it's time to start looking for a change in my life. I'm wilting and my roots are dry.

Lend a little energy...

I just can't seem to get into the flow of work today, because of some of my friends that are on my mind. If you don't mind (and I know I'm doing this too much lately, but can't help it), send some energy/prayers for them.

Yesterday, little Harlie went through her Nissen (stomach) surgery and had her feeding tube replaced. The surgery is successful, and she's in recovery. This is great news, as it means she can move forward with her jaw surgery in two weeks.

Today, Jameson (three stories and photos of her) is having her Fontan surgery, which is part 3 in a 3-part series of surgeries for a child that has, essentially, half a heart. It's a tricky surgery, but Jameson's in capable, experienced hands. Many friends and family wrote a J on their palm to remind us frequently to say a quick prayer for her and her family. Feel free to join in.

One more... Amanda's finally home with a newly hole-ridden pelvis (thanks to 4 biopsies in the last month), but she's worn out. If you're from Richmond, try to make it out to Dumbarton Elementary today if you can donate blood (3 - 7 pm) at a drive held in her honor.

Now, to try to focus on work... ugh. I need some inspiration to write about microwave stuff, and I'm not finding it today!!

Recently heard...

Katie's at that age where her reasoning, expanding vocabulary and innocent insight combine in a lethal combination of comedic quips. Here are a few heard just this past week:

Katie asked me earlier this week why girls just have the "short thingies" instead of penises, like boys have. I told her because that's how we're made. She replied that it would be so much easier if we had them, so that we could pee on trees like boys do. She then asked if boys have the "third hole." No, I tell her, boys don't have a vagina. Later I hear her telling Sadie "You have a 'banina' like me because you're a girl. You don't have a penis." Ah, great. Can't wait till my 20 month old starts running through the house talking about penises.

She loves to personalize Old MacDonald with family in it. For Jason, it's "with a poot, poot here," with me it's "and drama, drama there" and Sadie is "everywhere a scream, scream." Tells you quite a bit about our daily lives.

Katie: You know Carlee has a boyfriend now?
Me: No, really? Who is it?
Katie: It's Jacob.
Me: Oh wow, that's big news!
Katie: Yeah, but she's already tired of going with him. She's breaking up with him tomorrow, but she's too scared, so I'm going to do it for her.
Me: How will you do that?
Katie: Duh, I'll chase him when we're playing wolves, catch him and tell him it's over with him and Carlee and that he needs to move on.
Me: Sounds like a good plan. But try to be nice about it Katie. He may have his feelings hurt.
Katie: No, Mom, he's used to it. All his girlfriends break up with him that way.

Tonight, while playing animals I said something to amuse her. A few minutes later she told me that her brain was still laughing inside her head.

Thanks, Emily!

I got an award for the CHD blog... woo hoo! Ok, it's a blog award, but all the same, it counts! Fellow blogger Emily of Lovely and Amazing presented the CHD Blog I created with this lovely award:

1. You have to pick 5 blogs that you consider deserve this award for their creativity, design, interesting material, and that contribute to the blogging community, no matter what language.
2. Each award has to have the name of the author and also a link to his/her blog.
3. Each award winner has to show the award and put the name and link to the blog that has given her/him the award itself.
4. The award winner and the one who has given the prize have to show the link of Arte y Pico blog, the origin of this award.
5. Post these rules.

So, ahem... speech!

I'd like to thank everyone who contributed to the CHD blog, and to those who actually took time to read it, even though you're not personally affected by CHD. I'd like to thank those who posted links, and sent stories. But the big thing is the amazing survivors I've been so honored to meet or share experiences with, the parents who've gone on after losing a child to CHD, the children who struggle every day to survive, the ones who no longer struggle but faced horrors in their past, and the adults who are paving the way into a new frontier of survival on the long-term. Thank you!

And onto the viral part of this award... Seeing as this weekend is all about celebrating moms, the chosen award winners are all superwomen in my book. Survivors, fighters, advocates and great moms. My nominees for the Arte y Pico award are (drumroll...)

• Whoa Camel! - Amanda's witty material never ceases to be entertaining, even when she's undertaking the battle of a lifetime against leukemia. I've admired her writing skills since I was a mere lass, and I've learned a lot about zombies from her. Her musings are a true work of art.
  
• Gabriel's Heart - although this is also authored by Emily, she officially gave me the award on Lovely and Amazing, so I can legally do this. Her son has TGA (same brand o' defect as Sadie) and her site is creative, insightful, has gorgeous photos, is fresh, clever and fun.
• Home of the Four Trans - Beautifully designed, well executed, easy to maneuver, and Jen's not afraid to mince words and so tells it like it is about how tough it can be to have a child with a severe form of CHD.
• The Holton Family - The journal of Christy, a mom with an unimaginably intense life caring for a special needs child... she keeps it real, writes eloquently, has some amazing video clips of her kids and her writing brings me to tears or to shear joy on a regular basis.
• Toddler Planet - I'm a regular lurker on the site, but don't know the author. She's a working mom of two small kids who is battling breast cancer... need I say more?! I stumbled upon her when my friend Marie was diagnosed, and have been lurking ever since.

Goooooooooal!!!

Excuse my indulgence in a bit of a brag on my kid, but I have to do it - Katie scored her first goal today! She was so excited that she literally bounced back to mid-field for kickoff.

Her team practices every Saturday for 15 minutes, then they play a game. That's it. No weekday practices, not much formal coaching. They play 3-on-3, so it's pretty personal out there, much like no-holds barred wrestling on a soccer field, pre-school style. The quarters are pretty predictable - the kids tend to run back and forth a dozen or so times, with 1-2 kids just kind of running in circles, another scratching places that shouldn't be scratched in public and maybe one picking his/her nose while running. There's occasional violence (the coach's son on our team is VERY good, but roughs up the others all the time in the process of getting the ball), a lot of drama (at least 3 good bouts of outright bawling I've seen thus far, including Katie's in her second game because she hadn't made a goal yet), and no shortage of over-enthusiastic coaches reliving their childhood. I never fail to get at least one good belly laugh that brings tears to my eyes while watching from the sidelines.

Katie is great at dribbling, but has been very shy and lacked confidence until today. After that goal, she was in there, on the ball, running her hardest and dribbled all the way across the field several times - she's actually really good! (This I was very unsure of until today). Obviously, this comes from her dad, since I never played a team sport growing up.

Yay, Katie!! I was so proud when you scored that I got tears in my eyes - and this time it wasn't from laughing, it was from pride. Guess it's time for this mommy to go out, buy the minivan and get the soccer magnet to make it official - I'm a proud soccer mom!

Tidbits

There's an interesting post on my LearnAboutCHD blog today if you're not a regular reader of that blog and have a kid with a CHD. Sarah, a virtual friend I've made, is an adult with TGA and is writing a 3-part series on what it's like to grow up having a CHD. Check it out!

Also, updates on friends...
- Harlie's surgery was rescheduled till next Monday because of technical problems (robot was down)
- Amanda is feeling the effects of chemo, big time. The good news is she may get to go home soon. Bad news is she feels like hell. Keep her in your thoughts, as well as her hubby and little boy.
- My friend Karen's little girl, Jameson, has her next open heart surgery on May 15... coming up soon. They need all the strength they can get.

Thanks to everyone who asked about them and is sending positive vibes their way!

Think of Harlie...

My friend Christy's little girl, Harlie, that's become such a rock star on this blog is in for her Nissen (stomach) surgery this morning. Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers and send positive energy her way. Her future surgeries depend on this one going well!

Sisters

Hangin' out in a toy bin on a typical Thursday morning around 6 am. All the toys had been taken from the bin and littered through the living room already. You will note some sort of orange substance on Sadie's face and PJs if you look close enough. And Katie's stopped talking only long enough to smile for the camera. The nonstop litany of 5-year-old conversation started the second the flash was gone. And fighting quickly ensued.

But they did look like adorable little angels together for a moment.

Good Report from the Cardiologist!

Yay - finally some good news to report! Sadie had her cardiology appointment today, which we'd been dreading/anticipating anxiously the last couple of weeks since her poor x-ray and pulse ox incidents. It looks like her pulse ox levels were down to some sort of respiratory infection or other ailment, but not because of her heart.

According to the cardiologist, her coronary arteries look great, there's only mild stenosis of the pulmonary vein (to be expected - will have to be watched and may one day require a stent, but for now is a-ok) and her right ventricle pressures look very good (her right ventricle has to be in good shape as with her condition it is responsible for the normal left-ventricle function). These are the three key things to watch with TGA patients as they develop, and all three areas look good. Even better news... there is no sign of pulmonary hypertension any longer. He said it's quite normal for it to abate after surgery and ample time to heal. Hooray!

He also said her pulse ox will run mid-90s frequently, and it's nothing to be concerned about. I had been incorrectly told at UVA that she'd be 99-100, and it simply isn't true. Especially when she's congested, has a chest cold, etc. She was running 96 today, which he was perfectly fine with . If it gets down in the 80s, then we need to double check, otherwise, she's good to go for another year before she needs another echocardiogram.

I also had an opportunity to talk to him a bit about my feelings, recent findings and insurance issues with UVA, which has been a sore spot for me since it was he who told me the only place to send Sadie was UVA. He explained his reasoning, and I agreed we made the right choice for Sadie, but implored him to respect his patients enough to give them options and explain risks more clearly. Though it is a time of shock and stress, often, when he meets with them, I still feel it's essential to have all the information in front of you so that you can make the best decision for your child. He was very kind, agreed to give more consideration to this and thanked me for my frankness. Good guy.

It's amazing to me every time Sadie's had an echo to see that little heart pumping, it's valves moving, the blood flowing. It reminds me of how far we have come since the day she was born, and what a miracle she is. It reminds me of how lucky we are to have her screaming, hysterical little self as part of our family. And it reminds me of all the people who came together to save this one little life. There I go getting a little weepy...

Enough... we're off to the park to celebrate!!

Local news

Here are the photos from our local newspaper (The Mechanicsville Local) this week.

This, apparently, is big news. The annual Shuck N Pull. Rigged up lawn mowers, men camouflaged so that they don't scare the oysters away, and old women in cartoon bikini shirts. Does it get ANY better than this?

Since moving to Bubbasville, we've found little to do in our local 'neck of the woods.' However, one of our favorite pastimes (that we rarely get to imbibe in) is going to the local BW3s to play trivia and a series of Local games... 'best mullet,' 'tallest hair,' and 'best use of camouflage' being resounding favorites. There's no better place to watch the action in our neighborhood

Send Positive Mojo to 'Manda

On Monday my friend Amanda was diagnosed with leukemia after having several weeks (well, really a few months) of weird symptoms that doctors kept dismissing. She's in for the battle of her life, so please keep her in your thoughts/meditations/prayers/whatever you do to send universal love.

Mixed Bag

Sooo... lots happening, and this is more for family and friends that care to read it, so feel free to skip this post if you aren't interested in our mundane daily life.

Sadie
Took her in again Friday, still running low grade fever. Was diagnosed with (sigh) an ear infection. Isn't that why I went in the first place? This time her pulse ox was 99, where it should be. She's very congested, so perhaps that's something to do with it. To clarify everything we're going to her cardiologist Friday. Hopefully we can get some answers and (cross your fingers) a clean report.

The Harlie Fundraiser
I'm happy to report that the total raised was $56,000!!! Thanks to all of you who sponsored my run or donated and to you guys who went the extra mile and did some fundraising yourselves. Big props to my sister-in-law Kim for her Kaiser group, Jamie and the Ashland Jaycees and my friend Jen in sunny CA for going the extra mile to get donations. (Not that I wasn't touched by everyone who gave - your gifts were incredibly generous!). Harlie seemed to enjoy the occasion, and I know her parents are very, very happy, grateful and relieved. She's gearing up for a Nissen surgery later this month, and jaw surgery in June, so keep her in your thoughts/prayers.

My First 10K
In context with the Harlie fundraiser, I ran my first 10K. I did not train before hand, and I really, really wish I had. I meant to, just didn't quite get there. I managed to get through in 1 hr 22 min, and was disappointed that I hadn't pushed myself earlier on. I stopped and walked around half a mile in mile 2, and I think I could have made it without stopping in hindsight. I'd just never run 10k before, so I had no clue how my body would handle the later miles. Turns out that this fat butt still likes to run, and once I got going again in mile 3 at a good pace, I was ok. Slow, but jogging. I was pumped up by the time I crossed the line, and kind of got teary just knowing that I'd done something I'd never done before... on my own. Next year I hope to recruit a few to run with me. In the meantime, I'm thinking I should get back into running and try the 5k next month. I'd forgotten how much I enjoy long runs. Thanks to Amanda for letting me snag your bib. Hope you feel better soon and can get back to running.

Insurance, Insurance, Insurance!!!!
SADIE IS INSURED AGAIN! After months of being uninsured (and previous months on only a "supplemental" plan), we finally found a company to insure her! I won't say who it is, because I don't want to jinx it (they clearly coded her wrong in their system, but I'm not saying a WORD!). But we're covered, and covered pretty well in terms of insurance options available. A recorded message called Thursday with the news and I cried. Seriously. There's a first - crying over a pre-recorded phone message. I'm becoming a total sap these days. It's just in time, as we have to get Sadie into the cardiologist next week, which isn't cheap.

The agent who worked so diligently to find insurance we could afford and that would accept Sadie is Tammy White. I'm putting in a shameless plug here for her - she went 10,000 miles beyond the call of duty to help us out. She also has a child with a CHD. If you've been screwed by insurance like we have, I highly recommend her:

Tammy White
Vice President/Benefits Specialist
Chas. Lunsford Sons & Associates
800-777-5773

I'd be remiss not to say here that I owe not only our insurance solution, but also the balance billing removal to a local "heart" mom and friend, Christy Davis, who is the co-coordinator of Mended Little Hearts here in central VA. She's given me advise that has literally saved our family from financial ruin, and I can't thank her enough. Christy, I owe you... BIG time!! Thank you, thank you.

I have more, but will save for later dates, as some (such as the Sadie's heart tissue donor) take much longer to tell. Thanks for checking in!

The Operation Sadie Had

OK, two posts in one night, moments apart. But I just came across this on a fellow CHD mom's blog and had to post. This is the surgery Sadie had in order to survive. Hers was not as simple as the Arterial Switch Sadie underwent, as in addition to TGA she also had two holes in her heart (ASD and VSD) to repair, plus complications with lung issues before and after.

Warning: NOT for the faint of heart, the squeamish or those that freak out over surgery videos (That means you, Mom!). This is graphic.

Tough Day

Sadie went in to the doctor today for what I thought was yet another ear infection. The ear was red, but not bad, but what was not good was her chest. It turns out her 02 Sats are lower than they should be (highest they got was 95) and her chest sounded icky, so we were sent to the hospital immediately for an Xray to see if it's pneumonia or something having to do with her history of pulmonary hypertension or heart. Good news (I guess?) is that it's not pneumonia. Bad news is that we don't know what it is. The doctor called me a few hours later and said that we should get the xrays to her pulmonologist (which we don't have and I only recently found out we should be seeing) and cardiologist. It was after hours, so I have to call the cardiologist tomorrow to see what's up. I don't know if this is a "big" thing or not, as the pediatrician's voice mail told us that "nothing specific turned up, but you should follow up". Does that mean there's something? The pessimist in me says yes, as she wants us to see someone else (specialist). The calm attitude about it all with the underlying urgency is alarming, and my bells are going off all over the place.

Sadie's had a couple of spells in the last two months where her lips turned blue, but always when she was cold, so I wasn't too worried. Then, recently she's been panting a lot, but I chalked it up to allergies, which she appears to have (stuffy nose, sneezing, itchy eyes). Now this. Hopefully it's nothing, but I am anxious to get to a specialist. I've discovered through the whole CHD awareness campaign stuff that our care and follow-up post-surgery has been less than adequate through UVA, and I plan to address that and get some answers to the current issues. I just hope and pray it's not a leaky valve, stenosis, or whatever the "maybes" are. None of them sound nice. I'm crossing my fingers for this to be a serious case of over-zealous pediatrician. Please cross yours too.

Katie, as always, was a little champ about it all today. I could tell it was bothering her because she kind of clammed up at the xrays and after. Tonight we talked for quite a while (while dressed in our finest princess apparel) and she told me she was scared and didn't want Sadie to be sick or go to the hospital. We talked about it, and I think she's ok, but she's one serious (and insightful) little girl and takes in more than I know I even realize.

Speaking of Katie, I have a scene from our daily life to share...

"MOTIVATION"

Setting: on the floor in her bedroom, playing Barbies. One of hers is pregnant.
Katie: My Barbie is fat. She is having a baby.
Me: Katie, it's not nice to say someone is fat when they are pregnant. Having a baby inside you is very special, and the baby makes your tummy big because he or she needs room to grow. It's a miracle, and you should never make a pregnant mommy feel bad by saying they look fat.
Katie: Mommy, I'd never say you are fat. You don't have a fat tummy.
Me (knowing she is lying on the tummy part, but pleasantly thankful for her sweet reply): Thank you, sweetie.
Katie: I'd just say your tummy is HUGE.
My exit stage left, as I go to look up Weight Watchers online. Again.

Out of the mouths of babes... (ugh!!)

What I don't have...

Back on the ground...

I had a whirlwind weekend complete with a very short trip to Chicago to volunteer with the Children's Heart Foundation on working on a national awareness campaign in collaboration with the newly formed National Congenital Heart Coalition. It was exciting to see so many people devoted to this silent epidemic come together, despite diverse agendas, and be able to set the initial stage to begin work on a national awareness campaign, as well as national advocacy efforts. I'm ready to roll up my sleeves and get to work!

On the lighter side of things, the trip was as crazy as any of mine... 3 hour delay on Friday on the way out, landed to find snow on the ground and realized I hadn't brought a coat, stayed in a total roach hotel near the airport (avoid PriceLine!!), drove a Chevy Cobalt (not as bad as I thought it would be) and watched a medical emergency unravel on the plane on the way home when a gentleman went into a severe seizure. Unfortunately, he lost control of all bodily functions, which is quite ummm... gross when canned together for an hour. I can only imagine how embarrassed he must have been when he came to. Thankfully we had a cardiologist on flight (he had severe hypertension which led to the episode), and we didn't have to reroute. We were escorted in once we hit the runway by the police and he was met with 3 ambulances. The end result, however, was that the front of the plane cleared out after his episode, as the stench was overwhelming. This caused problems, however, so some were asked to go up front to balance out the plane. No one wanted to. So, seeing as I am frequently faced with poopy pants, vomit and other such lovely things, I went up there, wrapped my jacket around my face (which I bought while in Chicago) and hoped for the best, not knowing if it was contagious at that time. I was relieved to later find out it was not. Hope the guy feels better and it's nothing serious.

I also had a freak-out moment of my own when faced with the fact that Sadie is a "high risk" cardiac patient that will need follow up and, likely, further treatments as she grows. Realizing that there are not enough experienced people out there who know how to deal with CHDs was a real wake up call. I know, I know, I should realize this, but when faced with it written on paper, I felt my stomach plummet. It's easy for me to think that her case is much less severe than most as I have now found myself deeply entrenched in a large social network of children with heart defects much more severe than hers (so I thought at least), but the reality is that it is still extremely serious. I've always known this, but admitting it is an ENTIRELY different matter. I couldn't sleep a wink last night thinking about it all, and was ready to get home and forget about it. As I rocked Sadie to sleep before her nap, the emotion of it all totally overtook me... I am NOT a cryer, but months and months of bottled up stuff just came pouring out. I think I need a breather from all this this week to recoup. That being said, a friend's daughter is going in for cardiac cath this week, so I know it will never be far from my mind. Please send lots of positive energy and prayers to my friend Karen and her family, but especially to little Jameson, who is one of Sadie's heart friends.

So, that was the weekend's fun for me. I was greeted at the airport 30 minutes late by Jason with an overly excited Katie and extremely exhausted and (ah, the irony) thoroughly poopy panted Sadie. The ride home was complete with high pitched screaming, Katie's exhasperating attempts to shout over her sister and Jason's general grumpy, stressed out self. Ah, home again.

Post Pascha Prilosec Please

Ugh... pass some relief this way, please. The girls had a fantastic time this Easter, but this momma could crawl into bed and sleep for a year. Who the heck was it that decided plastic eggs and candy should be a part of this day's festivities? Clearly, not a parent.

The morning started with Katie awaking at 5:20 to follow a trail of glittery confetti and eggs that led her to the ultimate payout - Easter basket complete with a new Webkinz and Hannah Montana CD (yes, I am a glutton for punishment, thank you for noticing). She managed to keep things quiet for a little over an hour before waking her sister, who discovered her basket. Sadie proceeded to bite through Hershey kisses wrappers, and when Jason put the basket out of her reach, found a way to get to it, grab candy and then run like all heck to a quiet spot where she could imbibe. Around noon we headed to the Thies clan's homestead in NoVa, where five cousins hunted for 149 more eggs . The ride home was one that even Satan couldn't come close to imagining up as the ultimate punishment in the depths of his fiery kingdom. Two candy-cracked out kids, two irritable parents and an insane lack of sleep led to the best case of heartburn I've ever had. Screaming, kicking (some of it the kids' doing), loud music and a 5-year-old with diarrhea of the mouth, it was one of the longest 1.5 hours of my life. Finally, they are in bed.

Now to hide all the candy they got today, to be given out in small increments over the next, say, three years. I'm sure there's enough that if it were one piece a day we could do that, with a few pieces left over.

Onwards and upwards. I did manage to get out to the office for some quiet moments (now), and read a blog entry in one of the many I keep up with that I'd like to share from AuspicousJot...

To me - resurrection is about the slow invisible pulse of life that flows in our seasons and quickens in Spring.

Resurrection is when you think you can never love again; when your heart is so broken that you let it die instead of trying to heal. When there are years of cold in your heart. And then... and then... you meet someone and you feel it again. The early pangs, the budding, and the full aromatic blossoming of a heart bursting with love. Resurrection.

Resurrection is people who live in the dark and endless tunnels of depression who see a glimmer of light and have the courage and the stamina to start running for it. And the darkness is so much more than that little flicker of light, but they run and run and run.

Resurrection is a hope that more people will resist taking up arms and instead hold hands with strangers. Cities will be rebuilt. Wounds will heal. Peace will be learned and taught.

Resurrection is every person in recovery working the program, going to the meetings, being clean today. Resurrection is starting all over again tomorrow.

Resurrection is apologizing, forgiving, learning from your mistakes, not dwelling on the mistakes of others.

Resurrection is trust, hope, faith, and awe.

Resurrection is leaving a little bit of room in your life for the impossible to take root and become possible.

Resurrection.

Beautifully written. I needed a bit of food for the soul, and this left me with a warm and fuzzy feeling about a beautiful day, and its true meaning. Rock on with your chocolate bunnies, kiddies. Momma's back in the game.

Life with Carly Sparkles

Don't let this photo of a sweetly sleeping dog fool you. She is NOT that way often.

Carly Sparkles's schizophrenia has added to the mayhem that is the Thies household. Here are just a few of the personalities that she has displayed thus far...

Carly the Wanderer. Yes, the pup has total wanderlust. Her yearnings to travel has taken her to every neighbor in our vicinity, despite fences up to six feet high. She digs, climbs and squirms her way into other yards to socialize. She's a conscious traveler, though, and often brings us unique gifts from her explorations, including clothing items, trash, other dogs' toys, and a series of antlers that are currently strewn about our yard (last count, 7 pair). The other day a neighbor from behind our house dropped by to see if we had any of his children's shoes. Alas, we did. Two, actually, one for each of his children. When I mentioned antlers, he admitted that these, too, had come from his yard. Surprisingly, he did not want these trophies back.

Carly the Destroyer. Given the mix of breed, I'm surprised, honestly, that there hasn't been more damage. Mostly, she prefers to chew shoes, diapers (when she can find them) and underwear. However, we've caught her with glass, aluminum siding and, once, chewing on a wrought iron chair.

The real destruction comes from her digging. Through teamwork she's created a six-foot wide hole to gain access under our neighbor's privacy fence to visit his very lonely and neglected black lab mix. Really, in her digging, she's trying to do a good deed, I am convinced. The neighbor is not so appreciative, and on his side has laid down bricks, 2 x 4s and other items to prohibit her entry, and his dog's escape. Carly responds by simply digging deeper or moving down a few inches and starting again. The neighbor will soon run out of bricks.

Carly the Killer. She has a taste for rodents, with a particular palate for squirrels. Once she acquires one, she uses it first as a squeak toy, gently squeezing it in her jaws to get the squeaks she so loves to hear until all the air is out. Then she moves to the tail and uses it to toss her new "toy" in to the air. I have tried to save a few, but often find them in a pretty sad state once wrangled from her, so return them to her so she finishes them off quickly. Her hobby has forced us to create a squirrel cemetery in the bamboo patch behind our home. The first few got crosses on their graves, but Katie quickly grew tired of naming them and making gravestones, so now it's unmarked.

She also goes after moles by "flushing" them out of their holes. She'll hear one in the ground, gauge where it's exit is, then start on the opposite side by digging a hole. She digs until the blind little creature is forced out of its hole, at which she grabs it and begins the squeak toy game. Jason is dismayed by the giant holes pocking our yard, but I'm secretly happy. I hate those critters, and I think Carly's pretty ingenious in her tracking methods. Besides, our yard is now blissfully free of unwanted critters.

Carly the Lover. Carly is quite fond of her people and lets us know every waking moment. She has a tongue that is longer than she is, and loves to lick you when you are not aware she's within radius, eliciting "ewwwws" from the younger inhabitants of our home. She's extremely tolerant of Sadie's constant need to stick her fingers down her throat, pull her tail and give her kisses on her nose, and loves to sleep with Katie when allowed. She especially adores poor old Darla, and puts her paws over the senior dog's shoulders to hug her. Which Darla hates, and responds with by nipping at Carly. Carly is either too stupid or too loving to care, and will return the hate with more love, in the form of inner ear licks. Darla is especially fond of this, and a barking match will shortly ensue. Every once in a while, though, I find the two cuddled up side by side or playing in the yard, and I think that even Darla's come around to the newest addition to our home.

Carly the Protector. Perhaps my favorite part of our newest pet is the fear she elicits in others. Though we know her to be sweet and loving, if people catch wind she's got some pit in her, they instantly fear her. A few weeks ago a woman in PetSmart told me how proud she was to pet Carly - that she'd never been brave enough to pet a "killer" breed before. I just sighed. This being said, Carly can put up a good front when necessary. Recently, an unfriendly dog was barking menacingly and came running at us as we passed its yard on our nightly constitutional. Carly stopped dead in her tracks and began to growl in this eery, scary, deep voice I'd never heard escape her muzzle... and it made my hair stand on end and stopped the dog dead in its tracks. Another woman was walking some furry, yippy little rat on a leash (decked out in some hideous fake fur coat), heading our way at that precise moment. Hearing the growl, she turned on her heal, briskly switched to the other side of the street and high tailed it out of there.

'Atta girl, Carly. I guess you're a keeper.

Justice is Finally Served

On October 16, 2003, Jason's cousin, Taylor Blanton (a Virginia state policeman), was murdered in his home. Three days later, we attended what was one of the saddest and strangest funerals ever imagined. Hundreds filled the building for Taylor's eulogy, packing several rooms.

What was so bizarre about the funeral was watching the murderer, there in attendance. Hugging OUR family. Most of our family suspected who it was, but hadn't had the heart to confront Taylor's dad, Jason's uncle Ray. In fact, Ray and his wife were watching the dog for Donna, Taylor's wife and his murderer, at the time. I shuddered as she was carried past me when she "collapsed" outside of the funeral, and my brother-in-law, who is a firefighter and "in the know" about her pending charges, nudged me and told me to "watch the show."

The procession continued to the graveyard, where many in Jason's family lie. Only a short month before Taylor had been a pallbearer for Jason's brother's funeral, in the same cemetery. The irony was not lost on us. Though I didn't know Taylor any more than a casual acquaintance, I could not hold back the tears as I watched his mother and father, his children and Donna kids in front of the grave. I will never forget was when the police presented the American flag - not to Donna, who stood expecting it - but to Taylor's mother. I knew then that the police had confirmed that she was the murderer.

In the days that followed, we heard the hideous details of Donna's plan for murder, from staging a break in two days before, to a note left on the porch. She even said that Taylor had been shot while she'd been in the shower that morning, preparing to have sex with him, and that she came out when shots were fired, saw Taylor's gun lying on the floor, and fired shots at the fleeing intruder. We held our breaths and hoped that there was enough evidence to nab her.

Four days later Donna was arrested. She finally was convicted in 2005 to 28 years. Our family was appalled and sickened at the light sentence. Then came another blow - she won an appeal based upon the media coverage of the incident in the local area she was tried in, and got a retrial. That trial has been taking place for the last few weeks in Virginia Beach.

This past week, the jurors heard testimonies from two Taylor's kids and Donna's OWN children. (I have the highest respect for those four kids!!) They heard about Donna's web of lies, saw physical evidence and heard the investigator's reports.

Today, the jury recommended life in prison. Finally, a bit of conciliation.

Rest in peace, Taylor. Justice is finally served.

Blogging Crack

This is your brain on blog crack.

For my avid readers (all 2 of you), you may have noticed I haven't rated the book I put up over two months ago that is my "current read". That's because I haven't started it.

While last month was a huge interlude into CHD Awareness (sorry for forcing it on you), I also had a guilty pleasure I'd been indulging in private. Like any good narcotic, I've become totally addicted to a clever and witty blog I stumbled across. I tried to limit myself to a few entries a day, but quickly devoured it all. Now I greedily wait for my next fix...

If you'd like to sample my drug du jour, check out Cul de Sac Blues. You have to start at the beginning of the blog, or it won't make a lick of sense. Before long, you'll be as absorbed with the happenings at Burning House and the Three Dougs misadventures as I've been.

How'd you find me?

My friend Amanda posted some of the random search phrases people had used to find her blog, and I found it greatly amusing. So I decided to dust off the forgotten analytics stuff I'd installed for this site and check out who'd been here, and how they got here. It's wierd who's out there watching. And reading. I need to quickly banish it from my mind, or I'll never post like my normal self again. Even stranger is the number of hits I get from search engines... and how people land at my little piece of cyberspace. Here's some of my favorite random searches people that caused them to land here...

"a hokie is not a mercenary"
"c'mon barbie let's go barbie"
"correct dosage of methadone for fish"
"cow attacks" and "maymont cow news"
"busiest time of day at walmart" (man, did they pick the wrong site!)
"stabbed with an iv needle from cats"
"the hand is quicker than the eye"
"so what is reality, really, at 32,000 feet"
"invite preschool class to party with me"
"curly tail pitbull freak"

Can you imagine their disappointment when they landed here?!

Last Day!!!

It's the last day of my mega-blog-a-thon and I can not be more relieved. I learned a lot through this experience (shared on the learnaboutchd blog if you're interested), but most of all I learned what great family and friends I have that have undertaken this campaign with me. I really appreciate all of you who posted logos, referenced websites, sent encouraging emails, called, etc. I can't tell you how much it means.

This is just the beginning for me, though I won't be quite so intense about the entire effort (I don't have the energy!). I really feel that CHD awareness is vitally important to tomorrow's unborn children, to our children who have CHD and will soon be adults without experienced medical care available for their special hearts and for moms around the world. I hope you'll join me in these efforts!

Here at home, I'm finally starting to recover. I ate solids and kept them down! Hooray. It's the little things, right?!

Sadie has been in rare form all day. She's learned to climb on top of the coffee table, on the backs of the couches, throwing fits, biting the heck out of me (anyone have suggestions on that particularly lovely behavioral issue?), tore open a package of pretzels stolen from the cabinet, crunching them and spreading them into the carpet, pulled the cat's tail (multiple times), sat on Carly Sparkles (clucking like she was riding a horse) and that's just what happened before noon... she wears me out.

Thank God for her mended heart. How boring and pale life would be without her!

Darn.

So close to my goal of a blog a day, but didn't quite make it. I did put up a post yesterday on learnaboutchd, so I guess that counts, right?

Flu is still raging. I thought I was better this morning, and headed out to work in the office a bit, only to be promptly reminded about 45 minutes later that the flu had not had enough of me yet.

I am dying to get out of this house! Katie doesn't seem to have the flu. Just sore throat and slight fever. Thank goodness. Sadie's still ok. Guess I'm just the lucky one!

I promise to be back to my blogging self soon...

CHD Awareness

Sick today. Please see post on learnaboutchd.blogspot.com.

Four days to go on this silly blog-a-thon idea I had. Ugh.

Flu.

Need I say more?!

I woke up Saturday morning in Boston with my throat raw at 4:00 a.m. I figured it was from playing outside in the snow the night before with only a light jacket on (totally didn't pack right for Boston), so drugged myself with ibuprofen and coffee and headed to the mall for last minute souvenirs. Shortly thereafter, the rest of the flu bug made itself known.

The flight home was uneventful (thankfully) and the kids and the rest of the zoo at our house were most welcoming. I however, just wanted to curl upstairs for some shuteye. Not happening.

Fast forward to today... been battling a 101 temp all day, chills, angry throat, angrier bowels and a raging headache. Katie was great all day - played on her own often, and tried to entertain Sadie from time to time. Sadie, on the other hand, is a teething banshee who was not having anything to do with anything I wanted her to do today.

Whatever happened to sick days?!

Running for Harlie

I have the best reason I've ever had to get my butt back in shape. My friend Christy has a precious little girl named Harlie, who was born with more anomalies than anyone could ever anticipate. As you can imagine, her family faces incredible bills to help Harlie to be able to grow and thrive.

James River Grounds Management has created a fundraiser for Harlie as part of the Monument 10K here in Richmond. If you're willing to walk or run it, or would like to support me to do so (yes, my fat butt is going to do it), let me know or register using this link!! Here is the invitation letter...


January 29, 2008

Dear Valued Partner,

Whether we are ready or not, 2008 is here, and James River Grounds Management has an important New Years resolution that involves your support! On April 5th over 25 of our staff members will be running (or walking) in the Ukrop’s Monument Avenue 10K. In alignment with our resolution of giving more of ourselves to our community, we will be running in honor of a very special little girl.

We would like to tell you about Harlie Caroline Holton. Harlie was born on September 25, 2006. Her parents knew she was going to have challenges, but no one was prepared for the road that lay ahead. Harlie was born with an exhausting list of birth defects. The most emergent being a complicated heart defect called Congenitally Corrected Transposition of the Great Arteries. In basic terms, her heart is backwards. She had her first open heart surgery at just four days old, her second at six months, with a third to be at three years old. In addition, Harlie was born with an underdeveloped lower jaw and missing bones, forward low set ears, a dysmorphic left ear with no canal, left eye defects, vertebral anomalies, missing ribs, misshapen skull, anoperineal fistula and a lung defect that required the removal of most of her right lung. This is just what has been uncovered so far. Harlie has undergone seven surgeries and spent over four months in hospitals. This spring, she will face her eighth and ninth surgeries, as doctors work to stop her chronic vomiting so that her jaw can be reconstructed. The correct jaw construction will allow her to breathe and swallow normally thus eventually eliminating the need for a tracheostomy tube and feeding tube in the future. In spite of everything, she is sweet, happy, smart and beautiful!

What is most moving about Harlie’s situation is that her parents (who don’t ask for anything) have the most amazing attitudes toward these challenges. Their outlook has been absolutely inspirational to all of us here at James River. When reading the above list of challenges they have faced, it would be easy to understand how a parent in this situation could feel a little angry or cheated. But not the Holton’s. Not only is Harlie a blessing to them, but they truly feel honored to have been given the opportunity to raise her. The following is an excerpt from Christy Holton’s blog dated 1/20/08:

“…one thing I’ve started to notice more and more – is that the ones that have been honored to raise these special children feel so lucky, so blessed. How can that be? We deserve to feel cheated and bitter and angry! Well, okay, we do feel those feelings. But, more than that, we feel blessed and grateful. I find that so amazing. Those that have never spent one night in the hospital with a child recovering from life-saving surgery should feel like that. Those that have never had to learn about a rare medical condition, surgery, birth defect, how to be a nurse for their child, etc. should feel like the luckiest people on earth… I am incredibly thankful. Every single day Harlie completely amazes me. Now isn’t that something?”

We think it is. Caring for Harlie is more than a full time job. The equipment and medication necessary to keep her nourished and safe are unbelievably expensive. The surgeries that she has undergone and those that she will continue to face throughout her life will require her parents and older brother Murphy to sacrifice greatly. Furthermore, the family will eventually be required to travel out of state in order to receive the medical care that Harlie will require. In Christy Holton’s own words… ”I fully expected to lose my daughter, but then she was born and she had so many more problems than we ever imagined, yet she was so strong and surprised everyone with her will. I am truly honored to be her Mother. She is worth every ounce of effort we have to give to keep her safe and sound. She has changed our lives forever.”

As a tribute to Harlie and her family’s amazing spirit, we at James River Grounds Management are privileged to run (walk) for her benefit. What we ask of you is to make a donation to the Harlie Fund, a legal trust set up for her ongoing care. For every dollar raised, James River will match the donation.

Please make your check payable to The Harlie Fund.

Mail to: The Harlie Fund c/o James River Grounds Management, Inc.
11008 Washington Highway
Glen Allen, VA 23059

Please try to send your donations by April 3rd. We would like to honor the family with all the donations and a list of donors after the race on April 5th. For more information on Harlie, please check out her website. For more information about the donations or the race please contact Cerise Estep, 804-550-3500. On behalf of the staff at James River, thank you in advance for your generosity in supporting this amazing little girl.

Sincerely,
Maria P. Candler
President

Some Insurance Humor

I said I don't like to do politics. I guess I lied. Today I heard a Hucakbee speech that just plain pissed me off. So, in retaliation, I'm sharing my viewpoints in comedic formats.