Imaginary Friends and Piggy Poo

Sadie has been home all week with the dreaded piggy poo... feverish, some congestion, but otherwise content to sit beside me, cuddled up watching movies while I work away on the laptop. She does, however, get 10 minute bursts of energy, and in these periods I've observed something new. The emergence of the Imaginary Friend (IF).

I do not know the friend's name yet. But this new friend is very, very funny. It often leaves her in tears from laughter, and wants to play baby at least a dozen times a day. IF is apparently part dog/part human as it loves to "tuddle" and seems to be quite small. It is also very complimentary, because Sadie keeps telling it "thank you" and "you are a very nice friend."

Katie never had an imaginary friend, so this is all new to me. It's hilarious to observe, and gives a bigger peek into Sadie's psyche and personality. And she keeps me in stitches. Right now IF and she are having a jumping contest. Next they're taking a bath and will be SuperDog and BatDog.

The Montessorian in me kind of cringes, but the artist in me applauds this new development. I see no harm in the behavior for now - it's simply a buddy to play with, which, frankly, is a welcome diversion at the moment.

CJ's TUF

A little girl that is part of our community at Three Oaks has an aggressive brain tumor. This tough little 4-year old gal has gone through three surgeries, countless rounds of chemo, and now has no more options. It's a devastating situation for her family, but in the midst of crisis they are turning toward hope - hope for a legacy, for helping others and for healing.

Meet CJ's TUF - CJ's Thumbs Up Foundation. It's a new nonprofit that is kicking off its start this Friday, and I hope you'll be come a fan (see the badge on the right side of my blog, or find it on FaceBook). The family hopes to reach 5000 fans by the end of the year. What a great way to show them support, and what a difference this organization will make in years to come.

The organization will provide financial assistance for families in medical crisis, regardless of diagnosis. As a mom who's been down that path, I can't tell you how much that is needed. Whether your family is eeking by or you're middle to upper class, medical crisis hits your pocketbook hard. The hotel stays, travel for treatment, cost of non-insured items, consultations and treatments... it adds up quickly. I'll never forget the 100k bill I received days before Sadie's open heart surgery - it was a kick in the gut when I was already down for the count.

This organization will help families at this pivotal juncture. For a long time I've been looking for the right nonprofit to put myself behind to assist with families with sick children, and I think this may just be it. I'm excited to see it get off the ground, and hopeful for the difference it will make in our community. I hope you will be too, and encourage you to become a fan, become an advocate and become part of little Charlotte's legacy.

Halloween Fun!

In the midst of grieving Darla's loss, I was thankful for a welcome diversion from our empty home - Halloween! Over the years I've become more and more of a fan of the holiday. I love to dress up, dress the kids up, hang with neighbors and sneak chocolates from the girls' overflowing pumpkin buckets. This year was probably one of the best we've ever had.

We headed over to a friend's house (in the neighborhood over) for a big family party before the kids hit the streets to trick-or-treat. The group was huge - about 20 kids - running to each door until about a mile into it, when the little ones started to fade.

The hostess, another friend and I "cleaned up" until late in the evening, having a great time laughing, sharing stories and commiserating over lost pets. It was just what the doctor ordered.

The kids had a great time this year - dressing up at least 3-4 times for all the different parties and festivals they were invited to. Their costumes rocked, even though I didn't have time to do homemade ones, and I even got in on the dress up fun (even though it was just a generic witch number). Happy post-Halloween!

Darla, The Best Dog Ever

Twelve years ago, Jason and I were newlyweds and, like many, desperately wanted a puppy to test out our future parenting skills on. I somehow found an old lady who rescued young motherless pups, nursed them to health, then found homes for them. We went out to see what she had, and were taken by a group of Cocker Spaniel mix puppies. The fattest one we saw did not match her brothers and sisters, who were black and looked like purebred cocker pups. This little girl was tan, looked more like a hound, and wriggled her way to the top, taking us immediately with her big brown eyes, puppy kisses and cuteness. A week later she was weaned and I rode home with her in my lap. We had to stop half way, though, for Jason to take a turn.

We got home and placed her in the grass. She was so little, she apparently hadn't learned to walk well, and also had never been in grass, so wasn't sure what to think of the stuff. She quickly got the hang of it and bounded around, tiny little cropped tail in the air, crouching low to pounce. We already had a cat at that point named Spanky, so we decided to call our fat little sweetie Darla, to keep the Our Gang theme going. That night we settled her into her crate downstairs for bed. You can guess that outcome. She slept in bed with me for many years to come.

Darla quickly became the neighborhood favorite. Everyone would stop and "awwww" over her. She was always happy, somewhat precocious, but never truly bad. Well, we did have to replace an entire condo full of carpet thanks to her chewing "phase," and I did find out the hard way more than once that WD40 removes ink stains from carpet (she had a taste for Bic pens), but overall, she was a snuggle bug.

There was no mistake that Darla was a happy dog. She loved everyone. Her tail was too short to adequately wag enough to let people know this, so instead she wagged her entire body. And if you gave her a hug, she would reward you with a fantastic "love grunt' (uuummmppphhhh) and a full body lean (her version of a hug) to let you know she was reciprocating the love. She'd sigh with contentment under my feet as I'd rub her back and work at a desk. She'd romp along side me at the river. She loved to travel (well at least until one fateful day when she fell out of the car - another story for another time), and especially loved weekends with Jason's family, where she would be fed a steady diet of roast beef, mashed potatoes and the occasional McDonald's cheeseburger, which Jason's dad would drive out to get, exclusively for her. She was spoiled rotten, but gracious enough to return the favor by spoiling us with her love, too.

Through the years Darla was my steady and constant friend. When I had a miscarriage, no one could comfort me the way Darla did. I cried and cried with her patiently licking my tears away. When I was pregnant with the girls in later years, she would lay her head on my stomach and listen to her as long as I would allow her to. When I brought each girl home home, the first thing I did was let Darla sniff the baby from head to toe (I think my mom was mortified) - thankfully she gave her approval of each one. When we lost family members she let me cry  on her. When I was angry she'd endure my rants about the injustice I'd been served. When I was happy she'd waggle along with me.

When Darla was about six, she lost her eyesight. It didn't stop her. She still chased bubbles she couldn't see (a favorite pastime she and Katie had developed). She "chased" sticks not knowing where they landed, and bounded across our terraced yard without fear. She ran into walls, doors, refrigerators... but she'd always pick herself back up and keep going, wagging and wriggling all the way. She had a tireless spirit that infused our home with happiness, even on the darkest days. She kept my feet warm. She kept my heart happy. She soothed my soul. She was one of the best friends I will ever have, canine or human.

Over the last several months, though, Darla began to lose weight. The lumps that were previously benign throughout her body began to take on new, hard shapes. And then Wednesday I noticed a spot  on her belly, and it looked really bad. I took her to the vet and they confirmed my worst fears. Cancer had taken over. We brought her home, made her comfortable with pain killers and I tried to decide when and how to let my dear old friend go.

I spent the last two days agonizing over the decision. I talked with Katie, dealing with her very adult questions from her that I have no clue how to answer adequately. I tried to put things in terms Sadie would understand. I fed Darla every scrap she could possibly want. We snuggled. I got some kisses. I even got a love grunt. But the spot was getting worse rapidly. So today I told the girls we needed to say goodbye. I dropped them off at my parents and headed out for the hardest trip to a vet anyone ever has to make.

I carried my old friend into the vet's office this afternoon, and couldn't keep it together long enough to even tell them what appointment time I had. Tears streamed down my face as I held her, shaking in my arms, until the receptionist could figure out who we were - I didn't have the words for it. We found our way to a room, the doctor reaffirmed that this was the time, and I held her in my arms as she slipped peacefully away. I brought her home, Jason helped me dig a grave, and we laid her to rest. I. Am. Heartbroken.

I wish I could write a beautiful, more fitting tribute to Darla's life - a life that touched my heart and soul to their very core. But I guess that, in itself, is a tribute. That a furry friend could be such a huge member of the family. That she touched our lives, especially mine, so deeply. That she made our lives so much richer simply by her presence. I will miss her so very much.

 Darla, 1997 - 2009

A Parting Prayer

  - © Brandy Duckworth, 1998

Dear Lord, please open your gates and call St. Francis
to come escort this beloved companion across the Rainbow Bridge.

Assign her to a place of honor, 

for she has been a faithful servant
and has always done her best to please me.

Bless the hands that send her to you,
for they are doing so in love and compassion,
freeing her from pain and suffering.

Grant me the strength not to dwell on my loss.
Help me remember the details of her life
with the love she has shown me.
And grant me the courage to honor her
by sharing those memories with others.

Let her remember me as well
and let her know that I will always love her.
And when it's my time to pass over into your paradise,
please allow her to accompany those
who will bring me home.

Thank you, Lord,
for the gift of her companionship
and for the time we've had together.

And thank you, Lord,
for granting me the strength
to give her to you now.

The Ex

I should have posted this weeks ago when it took place.

Bedtime. Katie and I snuggled, chatting and whispering as we tend to do before she falls asleep. And this is the conversation that transpires...

Katie: I have a boyfriend, you know.
Me: Really (not trying to be shocked, but wanting more info)?
Katie: Yes, his name is Jason and he's really smart. He's the only other good kid in class.
Me: Smart nice guys are good.
Katie: I have an ex, too.
Me: (stifling grin) Really, what's that mean?
Katie: You know, an extra boyfriend, in case the first doesn't work out.

And thus karma begins to kick in...

Sick

First Sadie. Then Katie. With a brief feverish interlude by yours truly that quickly disappeared. Then Katie again. And now back to me. Day three of a fever... ugh.

So I'm forced to sit at home, thinking about lots of things that I've managed to avoid by being busy.

Here's what's been going through my head.

Jason's brother is sick again. I think it's bad. Another growth, pushing his kidneys aside. I'm pretty sure it's cancer, even though the results are still pending.

Jason and I are getting divorced. It's weird to be cool with it - we even joke about things that should not be funny, but are given our current situation. We're both ready, though it's been a long painful process to get here. He's going to be moving out ASAP, meaning when he gets a job and can afford to. For now we're stuck living in the same home, which is tough. We've come to a decent agreement on separation - in fact, we can backtrack the date to the time we officially separated sleeping space in our home (quite some time ago). I could be a 'free' agent as early as April. The girls are taking things pretty well. Katie has lots of questions, but we're both trying to be open and honest with her as we go through this. The kids will live with me, but Jason will have shared custody and see them as much as possible. We'll switch weekends, and have already started doing that.

Speaking of weekends, this is "my" weekend (no kids) so I'm trying to decide what to do. I want to get out and away, but have obligations Sunday, so I guess I'm in town. Maybe KD on Saturday with a friend or something.

Daytime TV sucks. I ended up just leaving it off all day. No interest whatsoever in "real" housewives (who are ironically as fake as one can get), talk shows or watching Rainman for the 400th time.

My work is getting to be too much for me. Three full time jobs, plus keeping the association management company on track with everything, is just too much. So I'm on the prowl for ways to reduce my hours. 70+ hour weeks are no longer fun. Working when sick is even less fun.

I'm wondering where my life will lead over the next year or two. Divorced mom of two. The thought of singlehood is daunting at the moment... though I look forward to moving on with life. Hopefully a new career. At least one new hobby, and a good girl-road-trip to some place I haven't been before, I hope.

Enough honesty into cyberspace. Time to check up on Raymond and see if he's had his date in the elevator yet...

At a Crossroads

I've been kind of quiet lately. Not just in blogland, but in life, too. Lots of introspection, lots of pondering. To my friends that I regularly talk to, I apologize for the sudden hermit-like behavior.

Life is full of change, we've all lived long enough to at least get that concept at this point. It's ever evolving, and we're along for the ride. Some of us think we can control destiny, some of us think that we're fated for a certain future. I'm kind of in between. I think there's a course, a path, but that we have the power to decide where it leads us. For years I chose to coast along in neutral, letting the 'fates' guide my path. Suddenly, I'm at a crossroads, and it's time to make a decision. Do I get in the drivers seat and take this baby for a spin, or do I continue to coast, content to view the scenery? It's so much safer to coast. But so much more fun to give life a spin...

So yeah. Went out of my way for that metaphor, but that's where I am. It sounds easy laid out like that. Drive, baby, drive - right? But driving is scary. You have to learn new skills, may have to encounter new people. All that stuff. Ok, I'll stop the metaphors. Officially done with them.

Anyway, I'm doing some major introspection, which leaves me little time to write. I've found myself sketching, which I haven't done in YEARS. And I found myself looking at life a bit of a different way. I tend to try (not always doing a good job of it, but I TRY) to put everyone else first. I now have a sign on my fridge saying "What do I want?". And I'm pondering that. What do I want this year? Next? Five years from now? And how am I going to get it?

I'm developing a list. It ranges from rediscovering my creative outlets to providing my kids the music lessons they want. It includes travel, a new career focus, personal growth, new paint in at least three rooms of the house and a kitty. It's a work in progress, needless to say.

Katie's SEVEN!

Where does time go? You blink, and your baby is a first grader...

Happy birthday to my beautiful not-so-baby girl - I love you so much, and I'm so proud of what a compassionate young lady you are becoming!



Make a Smilebox slideshow

Obama's Speech Tomorrow

I've got a bit of a bee in my bonnet tonight. So I'm letting it out. I'm so sick to death of the right wing propaganda permeating the airwaves lately. I'm sick of the outright lies, sick of the overwhelming claims being made.

I'm totally in agreement that there are some programs from the Obama administration that need work, or could use improvement. I appreciate both sides for standing up for their perceived rights. But I am 100% over the over-the-top claims about health care being taken over by the government, the new socialist regime and the latest one - that Obama is going to brainwash our children tomorrow and tell them sex is OK during his address to public schools. Such. Utter. BS.

Here's the speech in its entirety. Go ahead, read it. Obama is going to - watch out - tell your kid to stay in school and work hard. He's going to tell them that to achieve anything, they must work hard. Heaven forbid the head of our country reach out to the children and encourage them to succeed. My God, this calls for a revolution.

Don't get me wrong. I know politics plays a part in all of this. Just as they played a part in our race to the moon. But please, tell me what is wrong with the most visibly powerful man in our country encouraging students to succeed?

So, tonight I went to our Hanover (our county's) website to find out when it will be presented. And it turns out it won't be shown to our students tomorrow. Here's what they say...

" Our complete energies must be directed to promoting a productive beginning to the school year for our teachers and children. It is important to support the establishment of new routines and a smooth opening at this pivotal moment.

The Office of the President is to be respected. This is what America’s public schools promote as a basic part of our curriculum. Therefore, rather than showing the speech on the first day of school, the speech will be recorded, instructional materials will be available, and the speech and lessons may be appropriately featured by classrooms electing to use them at a later time. This will allow time for schools to inform parents of existing opt-out procedures."

So let me get this right... kids all need to learn about math, language and science. They must learn about the history of our country, about civic responsibility. Our school board claims to "respect" the office of the President and promote it in curriculum - so shouldn't it, therefore, be included?

Tomorrow about 90% of their days will be spent being introduced to new routines, new faces and with addresses from teachers and principals. They'll probably spend a good chunk just absorbing the new environment and are virtually guaranteed to learn little to nothing beyond a few new names and the location of the nearest restroom. What better time IS there to give a boost talk for the upcoming year? And who better to give such a talk than a black man who rose against the odds to become the leader of our great country - BY democratic election? Did we have an opportunity to opt out our kids when the moon landing took place? How about when the Challenger blew up? When the Twin Towers fell? No, it was important information for them to hear. And this message is, too, because, dammit, most kids aren't getting this message at home. And those do receive this type of encouragement can never be hurt by having it reinforced.

You can bet your butt Katie will be watching this address tomorrow when she comes home from school. And then we will sit down and talk about it. We'll talk about the President's story, about our story, about people we know who work hard and succeed in life - whether they're stay at home moms or professionals, poor or rich. And I'll echo Obama's words to the children he addresses tomorrow, "Make us all proud. I know you can do it."

Saying Goodbye to Paci...

For the past three months we've been talking to Sadie about her need to give up the beloved pacifier. She finally settled on giving it to her new little cousin, Evan. So, for the last two months, we've been working up to the big third birthday which would mark this momentous occasion. I knew it would be tough, but had no clue how bad it would be... There for a while I was actually worried she may cause permanent damage to her heart the way she was overworking it.

Being the Mom-of-the-Year I am, I decided to record some of it for posterity. A few director's notes before your viewing:

- You may want to turn your volume down before viewing. Waaaayyyy down.
- Not for the weak of heart. Ironic, since she's a heart kid.
- No children were permanently harmed in the making of this video, though it could have caused damage to eardrums for all in the vehicle.
- This was 20 minutes into it. Thus the gagging.
- Katie made the mistake of laughing at the absurdity of the situation (actually I think I started it). Thus the lashing out from Sadie to Katie.
- I do not normally "allow" temper tantrums, but was pretty helpless as we were on I-95. I figured, what the heck, she's strapped in and can't really hurt herself. Ignore it and it will end. Hopefully.
- I briefly considered exorcism, but determined it not to be needed after about 30 minutes, when she finally winded down...



Endnotes:
- Sadie was screaming "it's not funny!"
- Katie is the best big sister ever. In this two minute video alone she tried offering toys, diverting her attention to the pretty clouds and gave her her blanket.
- The windows were opened to ensure adequate oxygen flow, as Sadie seemed to be consuming most of what was in the car.

Bedtime resulted in another 15 minute episode much like this. I ended up putting her in her room and sat against her door as she wailed and banged, crying my eyes out. I hate to take her major source of comfort away, but also realize that it's this, or thousands in orthodontics bills years down the road.

I'll need major strength to get through this week...

Happy Third Birthday Sadie!!!

Make a Smilebox slideshow

The day this all started...

Three years ago, almost to the day, I headed to the hospital, thinking I was in labor. They sent me home. A few hours later I came back, and within 7 minutes Sadie entered the world. Then we got the news - she was gravely ill and would require open heart surgery as soon as she could be stabilized.

Before that time I would have never dreamed of blogging and sharing my personal life with the world. Hell, I hadn't even considered that my child could potentially have a heart defect. I didn't know how one second could change your life forever.

Since then I've written about the joys and horrors, the stress and the recovery our family faced in those crucial first months... chronicling hearts torn open and put back together, both figuratively and literally. Then it grew beyond that, to include the hopes and fears for my daughters, then updates for long-distance family and friends to finally, what it is or isn't today - a journal I turn to to release small bits of my brain to the world.

This time of year brings back so many bittersweet memories - the agony of watching Sadie being taken away, not knowing if she made it to UVA alive, the joy of the first moment I hold her, almost a month later. More than anything, my heart sings a song of celebration that overrides those sad memories, though they still persist in the background. Because more than anything, tomorrow is a day of joy over how far Sadie has come and the miracle of her survival.

Summer 2009

This summer has been an absolute whirlwind. Most of it has been spent in Three Oaks Montessori, working on summer camps (outer space, circus and art fun!), prepping for yet another remodel, adding students and getting the new staff in place and comfortable. We added a Kindergarten program, lots of space and have rearranged everything countless times to find the right flow. It's pretty exciting to see all the progress made, but my goodness, I'm exhausted.

I'm still working full time with association management as well. My two clients are both in interesting places, which takes up more time than ever. That makes a cranky Kim. I try to relive the stress with frequent trips to the pool with the girls. I look forward to the school year starting so that I can focus entirely on the associations and be past the licensing, new employee, remodel stages of the school for the year.

We managed to get a way for a few days with some friends to Outer Banks. Even though I worked about 10 hours while on my two and a half-day vacation (yes, I realize it's a disease) we managed to have some fun. It was great to stand in the surf, though, and completely revitalized me. We enjoyed visiting with our friends, and the kids were too cute as they frolicked in the sand. On the way out we stopped at the Currituck lighthouse in Corolla to take in the view. I love the Outer Banks. In all my travels, it's still one of my favorite spots to be.

This week Sadie turns three. She's been on a huge growth spurt the last week or two, so I'm hoping we can pack away her 24 mos and 2Ts by the time she's 3. She's still tiny as can be, but I think it may just be her makeup. Speaking of makeup - she's obsessed. On her face, arms, legs, with any bit of it she can find around the house. Trouble!

Katie turns 7 in two weeks, and start first grade on the 8th. We find out who her teacher is on Thursday, and I can't wait to see who of her friends are in her class. There are only four first grade classes, so chances are good we'll know a handful of kids in there.

My parents bought a new home, which is exciting news in our family. They're about 15 minutes from our place, which is great. It's a cute Cape with loads of potential, an awesome screened in back porch and a fenced in yard. I'm already planning on sending the kids over the minute they're ready for them... they'll love it!

Loads of other things have happened, but I'll spare the boredom of recounting them. I'm looking forward to reclaiming a 50 hour or less work week starting the week of the 15th and will stick to it. No new businesses, charity stuff or anything else in the brew (yet, anyway - who knows what I'll find to fill those 30 other hours I hope to abandon from the work week).

Stress Factor

I realize how self-indulgent this blog has become. Ah well, that's what online journaling is all about. Sharing your insane ramblings with a bunch of strangers (and a few friends).

So, more indulgence... I realized late last night that I'm in the 'dead calm zone.' Not good.

See, I have several stages of stress.

Stage I: 'Bitchy zone.' When I have too much to do, the kids have gotten on my last nerve, work is overwhelming, etc. Ye old normal stress response.

Stage II: 'Manic zone' - usually brought on by righteous indignation, financial stress or a big annual meeting. Working a trillion hours to ensure ends are met, results are delivered and causes are underway.

Stage III: 'Dead calm zone' - uh oh, she's about to blow. This happens when stress is so overwhelming that my brain drops to neutral and refuses to budget out of there. The first time I witnessed a terrible accident (stop sign through a person), I discovered this response. I get busy with survival and focus on only that. Later, once the trauma has passed, I come down to a blubbering pile of nerves. This has happened more frequently through the years. Accidents, Sadie's survival struggle, and now, even finances are putting me there.

And sometimes after Stage III, if it's for an extended period, there's post traumatic stress-type crash. Bad news, gonna be tears kind of crash. Dread to get out of bed kind of crash. I've only been there a few times, and it's ugly. I'm terrified of going back, and do everything in my power to avoid getting there.

This week alone I've had major changes. Our lead teacher from Three Oaks last year is moving on - this was to be her last week. I had tons to do to ensure an easy transition to our new instructor who starts on the 15th. Old teacher got sick, and I've been having to run space camp (without curriculum as she forgot to leave it behind), lead the classroom and try to take care of the administrative stuff, as well as my "normal" job of association management. My clients are both struggling like never before. The only other Montessori school in Hanover closed, so parents are calling left and right to find out about our program. I have a board meeting today. I had class from 9-1. Next week I'm teaching on my own again. We have new students coming in. Jason lost his job again. Sadie is going through this God awful stage that makes me want to scream every other minute. My favorite-ever employee moved away last week, meaning one fewer person in the office.

Yesterday my brain was everywhere and I worked about an 18 hour day. Today it's not going anywhere I've put in 6 hours, and have at least 1o more I need to get in. I'm at wits end, thus the mid-day blog, when I should be preparing for a board meeting. I can't find time to get out with friends because of all the work obligations - and that, or the water and running, seem to be the only remedies for this level of stress.

I know, I know, this will pass. But enough already. I'm sick of the constant change. I know that's what life is all about and I can handle a little change, but there has been one major catastrophe or another for three years straight. Two bouts of unemployment, Jason's near death experience, Sadie's near death experience, biopsy for Katie, drug withdrawals with Sadie, family drama with extended members to include blindness, loss of mental function, heart attacks and death, addition of a new business a month prior to an economic collapse... it just keeps raining. I know others have it worse, and I know I should suck it up and not complain. There have been good things too. But really, how much can a girl take. Really!??!

I know more than anything I need a break. I haven't had any work-free weeks since Sadie was born, and I'm long overdue. My last vacation without work was in December 2005. Two days after I had Sadie I was standing outside the PICU on a conference call. Last year we went to Japan for my business, and I spent a huge chunk of the time in meetings or fighting with the contractor back home. I think two days were work free (thank you, Mt. Koya, for your beautiful retreat). Overdue, but there's no end in sight, so I've got to keep plugging until I can get to a point where I can replenish.

(deep breath)

OK, better. Therapeutic writing and a mid-day glass of wine helps a ton.

Who's up for some Xanax?

Nemesisless

That's me.

Sigh.

What to do now?

The Great Disappearing Act of the Summer of 09

I've been MIA in blogland most the summer, but with good reason. My work is kicking my butt, and without regular child care during the summer I feel like I'm in a constant upstream battle. Since June I haven't left Richmond except for a few family visits to NoVA and a meeting in DC, from which I promptly returned. I'm dying to get out of here, but alas, vacation is not in the cards this year. Or next the way things are going.

Jason finally found employment, but it's anything but steady and reliable. So he continues to work. Both of my clients are struggling more than ever with the economic climate. I keep finding new things I need to spend money on for the school - a new addition to the driveway for parking, the addition of an ADA accessable bathroom, insurance, yadda, yadda... I feel like every time I call the county or social services it costs a few thousand bucks in new requirements. Take that and add in seven months of unemployment and you have the makings of a lot of fun.

There are lots of changes going on, too. The biggest one is changes in staffing at the school and with MCC, which I'm in knots over. I'm not sure how it will all play out, but I'm hoping that the fall will be less eventful and I can find a way to reduce my workload to 40-50 hour weeks.

So, needless to say, I haven't felt like blogging in my free time. The kids are doing oodles of adorable things to share, but by the end of the day I want to plop in bed with a good book (just finished Shadow of the Wind - incredible!) and ignore the world. I'm sure I'll come out of the blogging slump at some point, but for now, I just can't keep up, so I won't bother with apologies to the 3 folks that still follow along.

I did manage one splurge for the summer - we joined a pool at long last. It's great to take off in the late afternoon, head to the pool and soak up the sun. I'm a much better mom, employer and friend if I can get just an hour in the sun and water a few days a week. Guess I need to move to Florida.

I'll have big updates on the school, happenings in the house and more soon...

On the road again!

But only to DC this time. Someone should have slapped me when I suggested we'd save money by doing IMPI's symposium locally. I hate DC. Sure, it's nice for a great night of theater, or perhaps a day on the Mall, but overall, dislike it. Mean people. Crappy drivers. Nonstop traffic in every direction.

So I check into the hotel after 7 hours on the road today (from RVA to MD back to DC - should have been more like 4 tops). I'm handed a nifty slip of paper that informs me that a "routine maintenance" will occur between 3 and 5 am tomorrow morning. It's now 9. Crap. The maintenance of course involves fire alarms, power outage and flashing lights. Oddly enough, I've been to this hotel ONCE before, and it resulted in a 5:30 am fire-alarm wake up call. I'm not a fan of this hotel now. It's official.

I retire to my room and wait an hour for the usual bottle of wine to appear (when you give the hotel 60 or so thousand dollars of business they usually give you a bottle of wine and perhaps a cheese tray) and finally give up at 10:15, get in the PJs and start working. Of course then the knock comes... 10:17.

A 2006 Cab... not bad, but not to die for. It can wait for another night. But this tray of, um, stuff. Now this I must investigate. A brown squishy object, lumpy greyish glob, soggy biscotti and some squishy pecans. Now this is a new one.

Of course I have to try it all anyway. Squishy brown object is perhaps a spiced pear, aged 1 month. Greyish glob is applesauce, and not the good kind. Soggy biscotti... well, it's soggy. Pecans - one bite and I spit it out. And I do NOT spit out food. Gagging and looking for comfort, my eyes settle on the bottle of wine.

Wine in hand, I return to my beloved PJ's, log onto the computer (no free WiFi? What is this, 2002?!). But I figure, eh, what the heck. I'll be up at 3 am anyway... might as well call it a night, screw around on FaceBook and write a blog entry. I'm so far behind on work that another three to four hours will make no difference.

With that I'm off... another fabulous week of international meeting intrigue officially under way. At least there's no opportunity for lost luggage this go round.

Grief is Strange

Sometimes you think you've moved on, that the process wasn't as bad as you feared, etc. Then some days it drops on you like a load of bricks.

In the process of cleaning out office files and old emails, I came across a few notes from Amanda. Stupid, silly, snarky stuff. And I completely teared up and felt like I'd taken a left hook from out of nowhere.

I frickin' HATE cancer.

Growing Up

Like it or not, I've suddenly been faced with the reality that I am a grownup. I don't know when it happened, it just kind of snuck up in there. True, most people realize this in their 20s, but I'm a bit slow, I guess. Despite owning a home at the ripe old age of 21 and taking on progressive levels of responsibility ever since, it never really hit me that I was really, truly grown.

Kids came along, and I have relished reliving childhood memories (and creating new ones for them), but still, did not feel adultish.

I started a couple of businesses. Now I was stressed. But still not grownupish.

And Sadie was born with her complexities and my eyes were opened to a whole new world of struggles, sick children and even those lost. Friends started getting cancer and strokes. I lost a childhood friend of 20 years. I went into this suddenly adult world kicking and screaming, not ready for it. So I ignored it.

And yesterday, I became a grand-aunt. Seriously. And suddenly, very strongly, I feel grown up. And I don't want to be.

I don't want the whiskers that have suddenly popped up on the side of my face. What is that about? I am not thrilled that my body suddenly decided not to support my current lifestyle and eating habits. And I'm disturbed when the teens at concerts talk about bands as "old school" (No Doubt - REALLY? Old School?!) when telling me they enjoy the show. Not. Cool.

So I'm going to pout about it. That'll show you, adulthood. Ppppphhhhbt!

Harlie

One of the wonderful friends I've made since my move to Richmond is Christy, mom to three. Her middle child, Harlie, has been mentioned here several times before - her medical needs are huge. I so admire Christy, who I swear should have an honorary PhD in pediatric medicine. She can juggle a creeping infant and talkative five year old all while suctioning her trached two and a half year old daughter. The woman has cleaned more puke than any full time nurse, attended to countless wounds and can plug in oxygen and a feeding in no time flat. Yeah, she deserves lots of gold stars.

I'm thinking of her today, as she sits, again, in a hospital, waiting for a surgery. I've only had to be through major surgery with a child once, and I can tell you, no matter how tough you are, it's so hard. So, so hard. Christy's sat in that OR waiting room more times than I care to think about (I think this is number 11).

What a lot of people don't get about a major surgery like this is that the surgery, itself, isn't the scariest part necessarily. It's the recovery road. Christy had to pack not knowing how long she'd stay. Planning for the unknown is an impossible and daunting task. It really is too much to ask of a mom, but yet you don't get a choice in the matter. I think Christy does a fantastic job handling the hand she's been dealt, even if she thinks she doesn't.

So say a little prayer for Harlie today as she undergoes yet another surgery (this one's open heart). And, just as importantly, send a little good mojo to Christy and her family!

UPDATE: Harlie did well in surgery, though they were unable to do all they hoped because her heart is so complicated. She woke up briefly afterward and signed a bit with her parents. Should be home in two weeks or so if recovery goes well!