Thursday, June 30, 2011

A short story about someone else's bum

Earlier today my cousin, Niki, sent me this picture with a text message that read: If I ever get married, instead of bridesmaid's dresses I want these.


I responded with: Please tell me this is exactly what it appears to be and you really DID take a picture of a stranger's ass.

Oh yeah! I held a book up and acted like I was taking a picture of it.  

I'm just so happy right now. This totally made my day, I said.

I wanted to put my finger right next to her butt, but I just couldn't do it, she went on.

You should have touched it. I can't even tell you the number of times I've regretted passing up the opportunity to touch someones bum. I was obviously joking. Kinda.

I should have just slowly walked up to her, touched it with my pointer finger, looked her in the eyes then walked away?

You could have just told her you were concerned because it looked as if something were trying to eat her shorts.

Friday, June 24, 2011

Love, love, love

One year ago, a sweet little boy named Conner Jones earned his angel wings at the tender age of seven. I would have never guessed that this little boy I'd never met could have such a profound effect on my life. Conner touched the hearts of thousands of people within the CF community and beyond. This is his mother Sara's heartbreaking account of his passing (entitled "24 Hours"). I'm willing to bet that if you take a few minutes to read it you, too, will be forever changed.

Tonight I'm asking you (whoever may be reading this) a favor - for me, for Conner, for any parent who has felt the soul-wrenching pain of losing a child, for anyone who has lost a friend or loved one to cystic fibrosis, for the far too many souls that have been taken home too early, but most importantly for yourself - please take an extra moment to tell someone "I love you", to laugh a little more, to hug your kids a little longer, to really live and to love, love, love.

And please... PLEASE... don't take a single breath for granted.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Classic Classifieds

Bored? Google the term "funny classifieds" and you'll get a good laugh, I promise. I stumbled onto a bunch of these earlier tonight and just couldn't stop laughing. These are a few of my favorites.

1. Revised 

Oooooh, now I see. Thanks for clearing that up.


2. Mr. Giggles

"Honey, do you know where the kids are? I sent them out to play with Mr. Giggles and haven't seen them since...

...Honey???"


3. Hey buddy, who are you trying to convince?


Aside from the fact that he's clearly having some kind of sexual identity crisis, this guy seems like a total gem. Why some nice woman/gentleman hasn't snatched him right up is beyond me.


4. Not the rolling pin!


"Up until that point, I thought it was just some run of the mill gang initiation or armed robbery. But when I saw that rolling pin, I knew these guys meant business!"


5. Slightly used


I actually have one of these in storage. I just can't seem to make myself get rid of it. You never know when it might come in handy. 

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

How To

HOW TO ANNOY ME:

- Frantically scramble to grab any item within reach at the cash register because your other items rang up to $6.66. Do you really think that packet of Pop Rocks is going to save you from the Devil?

- "You have reached the voice mailbox of 4-3-5  3-4-0  X-X-X-X. At the tone, please record your message. At the end of your message, you may hang up, or press 1 for more options."

- Ask me if I'm tired, but before I even have time to answer say something along the lines of "because you look EXHAUSTED!"

- "Sing" a rap song anywhere within my hearing range.

- Think for one second that you won't make it to my Annoy List just because we're friends/relatives. You should know better.


HOW TO WOO ME:

- Tell me that if everyone in the world were like me, there would be no wars. (Please understand that after making a comment like this you will never be allowed to have a conversation with my husband... or my mom... or any of my coworkers... or, well, anyone who knows me well enough to make you believe I'm anything less than a saint.)

- As I'm opening your new checking account, mention that when you were shopping around for financial institutions the deciding factor was that this one has "hot" tellers. (I can see how some women may find that offensive, creepy even, but I like a little creepy every now and then. Keeps things interesting.)

- Wake me up by bouncing on the bed. Naked. Sucking on a bottle of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter. That's Mama's girl.

- Allow me to pre-sort my groceries into groups (frozen foods, produce, boxed and canned items, etc) and then take the time to bag them accordingly. God bless you, woman! So few people know how to bag groceries these days.

Sunday, June 19, 2011

Daddy


This is one of my favorite pictures from my wedding day, as well as one of my favorite memories. I will never forget the way Dad softly sang the lyrics to me as we danced (and cried). I know a lot of people think this about their father, but I truly and honestly have the best dad in the whole world. And the cutest kids.


Happy Father's day to all the great dads out there!

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Nice to know

This is the Ecard I would have sent Adam if he ever even looked at a computer screen without my prodding:

Courtesy: http://www.someecards.com/

Now, I know that some of you are thinking how inappropriate this is (hi, Mom!).

But it's true. Having a husband who loves me and makes me feel desirable, even on my worst days and despite the changes my body has gone through, is something pretty incredible.

I believe what's inappropriate is the fact that I felt the need to share this with everyone.

[I just didn't have it in me to write a thoughtful post this weekend,
but here is what I wrote for Father's day last year.]

Sunday, June 12, 2011

June 2011 Newsletter: 22 months and counting

Dear Morgan,
If there were ever a moment I wanted time to freeze, it's right now. There have been times I wished you would stop growing, or at least slow down the pace so I had a minute to enjoy it, but never before have I felt so strongly that I want you to stay exactly the way you are forever. This past week could very well have been my favorite week of being your mom so far. Although your will grows stronger by the day and everything (I repeat, everything) must be done on your terms, you are immediately forgiven for any ill behavior each time my heart swells with pride as a result of a new word you say or cute thing you do.


In the grocery store recently, a woman who had been watching us from a distance came up behind me and softly said with a smile, "You certainly have a spirited one there." Spirited. Stubborn. Headstrong. Energetic. All of these words have been used by others to describe you. For the most part I've always rejected the notion that you were doing anything that wasn't age appropriate. Insisting on doing something all by yourself, while at the same time getting so upset that you throw it across the room? Doesn't every child do that? Complete meltdowns if your bedtime routine is even slightly thrown off (this has only been very recently)? Isn't that normal? Standing on the back of the couch and violently hurling your body onto the cushions below, laughing the entire time? Is that not standard behavior? I've recently begun entertaining the thought that maybe, just maybe, you are a little more intense than the next kid.


You are putting words together now, like "daddy home","no way", "Dixie eat", and "thank you, mama". However, like other milestones I was once excited for you to reach -- crawling, walking, etc. -- you've quickly learned how to use this skill to your advantage. Our mornings usually consist of a series of emphatic "no's" to my questions of "Do you want milk? Juice? Cereal? Oatmeal?" Followed by your demands of "weedee" (tv) and "lot lat meeo" (chocolate milk). When I attempt to get you dressed for the day the "no's" return, often joined by several "mine's". Just when I think that maybe this whole talking thing isn't all it's cracked up to be, you come up to me and ask for my hand, "han? han?". You then lead me to the couch or rocking chair, climb up into my lap, wrap your arms around my neck and say "la you" (love you). And that's when I can't help but think there is no sweeter sound in the world than your little voice.


Summer (I almost hate to say this for fear of jinxing it, since two weeks ago we woke up to snow) has finally arrived! Last week we took you and Shylee to Palisades (a little lake near our house) and you absolutely loved everything about it - the sand, the sun, the water, the minnows swimming at your feet. It was a reminder to me of how much you've grown in the past year, since last year when we visited the same spot you had next to no hair on your head and you could barely crawl in and out of the water. This time you were splashing and running around in the water, excitedly saying "hello" to everyone that passed and throwing rocks into the water, fascinated by the splash they made. As I there watching you, as silly as this sounds, I started to get a little teary eyed thinking of how quickly you have grown and just how grateful I am to be your mom. Then I noticed that you were about to eat a dead minnow you found, which snapped me right back into the present.


A couple weeks ago I was bragging  talking with someone about you. She was a mother herself, with children almost as old as I am. At one point during the conversation she said that a woman's life is over once she has children, then went on to describe some of the things that are especially difficult about having kids: sleepless nights, endless loads of laundry, the constant worrying, never having a moment alone, and she went on and on and on. I didn't say anything to her because she was almost old enough to be my mother, with far more wisdom and life experience than I have, but what she said really bothered me. Yes, being a mom is hard work, sometimes really hard work. There are times that I fantasize about renting a fancy hotel room, taking a bath in a big jacuzzi tub, reading a good book and then curling up in bed ALL BY MYSELF. But the truth is that even if I ever got out of the house alone, I'd probably only last an hour or two before I turned around and came right back home. You see, I guess there are some women who feel that they lose themselves once they begin having children, but I honestly don't feel that way at all. My life began once you came into it.


All the extra laundry, the lack of sleep, being puked and pooped on, the frustration of your high-pitched screams, public temper tantrums and never ending "no's" - all of it pales in comparison to the realization that my dreams of having a family, of seeing myself in my child's eyes, of nurturing and growing another life, of having a child in a floppy pink hat who evokes smiles from total strangers as she excitedly shouts "hewwo" from the water's edge as they pass... all those dreams of mine have come true. I'M LIVING THEM RIGHT NOW, and that, my dear, is what life is all about.


Love,
Mama

P.S. Just a few minutes ago I glanced over my shoulder to see you in the living room, jumping up and down on a little trampoline. Totally naked.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

Monster House

During my hospitalization in April, one of the respiratory therapists questioned if my repeat admissions could  be due (in part) to some kind of environmental trigger -- maybe something in or around my house was bothering me. I dismissed the thought at the time, telling myself I've lived in my house for over 4 years. Surely I would have had symptoms before now.

When I landed back in the hospital just three weeks after being released, the same kind of questions were asked. Was there mold in my house? Have I developed an allergy to my dog? Could there be some other kind of toxin in my home? It just seems like my health has been especially unstable recently, despite every effort to keep myself well. It seemed to be a popular opinion that I could possibly be exposed to something harmful at home. I still wasn't sure I was buying into the whole idea.

Flash forward to Friday night/Saturday morning when I felt so terrible that I was seriously considering driving back up to the U and crawling back into a hospital bed. As I laid there feverish, exhausted and struggling to take a breath, I suddenly thought of the recent conversations regarding a toxin in my home. And that's when I thought, it must be my house! Something in my house has been making me sick. MY HOUSE IS TRYING TO KILL ME!

(I may have a tendency to be a bit dramatic at times.)

To test my new theory, we spent the rest of the day and evening outside. We even carried my oxygen concentrator out to our camp trailer and slept in the backyard. The girls thought it was fantastic since it was "just like camping". Shylee asked if we could sleep out there every night. The next morning I woke up feeling SO MUCH better! To be safe, we spent as little time as possible in the house on Sunday as well. We went to the lake to soak up some sun, barbecued burgers again for dinner and even slept in the trailer again, much to Shylee's delight. The final verdict: I felt fine as long as I wasn't in the house for an extended period of time.

So we've now begun the process of determining what exactly is bothering me. Chances are high that it's mold. We did suffer some water damage somewhat recently, thanks to a leaky pipe we didn't catch in time. We believe there may be some mold growth as a result of that. An insurance adjuster is coming out tomorrow morning to see if there is anything our homeowner's insurance will do to help us there. The rest is still up in the air.

Until we have a more definitive plan, we've kept the windows open in an attempt to get as much fresh air in the house as possible and we're looking into getting our air ducts cleaned. I also have two air purifiers running 24/7 and we've sprayed Lysol on just about every visible inch of our house. Short of sleeping in the trailer every night, we are spending as much time outdoors as possible. All of these things seem to have helped... for now.

In other news, this week marks my final week with a full-time job. It's been my dream to go part-time for a while and, for a few different reasons, the time for that has finally come. I'm extremely excited about being able to spend more time at home with Morgan and dedicate a little more time to taking care of my health.

Monday, June 6, 2011

In my absence

So, I haven't written for a while. There's good reason for that, I promise.

First of all, I can sum up my hospital stay by saying 1) it was boring 2) it was frustrating and 3) there were a hundred places I would have rather been. But by the end of my first week inpatient I felt phenomenally better, so it was totally worth it.

I came home on Friday, feeling pretty darn good. We had a little barbecue and I spent the evening chatting with friends, holding my girls, cuddling with my husband and flashing someone every half hour or so. (People were very interested in taking a peek at my new port. Never one to disappoint, I whipped that baby out each and every time I was asked.)
After everyone left and we got things cleaned up, we put the girls to bed and sat down to a movie while I did my evening treatments. I quickly fell asleep on the couch and woke up to Morgan crying about an hour later. I didn't realize it when I first got up, but it soon became evident that my old friends Shortness of Breath and Achy Bones were back. They really missed me during our short separation. Soon enough Stabbing Pain in Right Lung joined up with us.

I had another terrible night overall, but finally fell asleep in a semi-upright position around 3:00 am. Saturday morning I felt nearly as bad as I had the day I was admitted. Again, I felt like I couldn't breathe. I spent most of the day cuddled up on the couch next to my oxygen concentrator. I was undeniably sick again, just hours after being discharged from the hospital. To say I was upset is an understatement; to say I held my shit together would be an OUTRIGHT LIE.


I realize this is a terrible place to end this post but if I don't hit publish now,
I don't know when I will. I promise I'll finish this story as soon as I can. 
My baby girl is asking to cuddle with her Mama and 
right now that is the most important
 thing in my world.