End O' the Year Missive:

I will be the first to admit that the latter part of the first decade of the third millenium left many people wondering just when they got dumped off the Merry-go-round. Unemployment, foreclosures, bankruptcy, became household watchwords of despair. Several people have even gone to far as to say this decade was worth less, feign to say "how can it get worse" and are either hoping for better in the next year, or at least want to forget this one.

That is where the idea of "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" really comes into effect. Forget this past decade, or this past year? Yes, we need to do what we can to create a better year overall for ourselves, our communities, our country, but if at the very least we don't learn from our mistakes, how can we grow from them?

But more than that, I beg to differ that the decade of 2000-2009 was one to forget. While there were moments of "less than ideal," every day brings its own challenges; "Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof" (book of Matthew) has been my mantra for several years - focus on today, and let today take care of itself first. In this light, I embrace the challenges we've had, and I look forward to more to come in the new year. Why focus on the negative, when all this is ephemeral; we are so limited on time, let's focus on all the good of the past ten years.

Why? Why would I welcome something that could be so detrimental? Because in mine eyes, the past ten years are ones I want to remember until the moment I leave this earth. And if the next ten are half as wonderful, I will one of the most fortunate people on earth. For this was the decade that saw the birth of my daughters; the ability for us to purchase three houses (not all at once, of course); moving back to California; the making of life long friends; the establishment of great careers; the wholeness of our family; the growth of my children into strong and beautiful young people; vacations; celebrations of birthdays, holidays, and accomplishments galore. These are the moments that will forever burned into my mind, and when the challenges arise, it is memories like these that will carry the day.

Yes, we've had hardship this decade too, loss of a father, sickness and hospitalization, death of a pet, financial insecurity, job loss . . . but these things happen all the time. But to want to forget those - then how can we grow and learn from those events? Every decade, every year, every day is filled with challenges - the Chinese have a saying, "May you live in interesting times," which is a threat; it means may you have much upheaval in your life. And who doesn't? But what we do and what we focus on during that upheaval is what makes life "good" or "bad," not the events inherently.

For those of you for whom the past decade has been one you just want to forget, you have my sincerest sympathies; however, I beg you not to forget that decade. Don't decry it as the worst decade ever. Think instead of the joys of that decade, no matter how minor they are.

From my perspective, sitting in my warm house, listening to the sounds of my children playing, waiting for the glory and joy that is Christmas, I don't feel the last ten years have been a loss, a decade to forget. On the contrary, these ten years are engraved on my mind for all time, and I hope that others also find the joy in the past ten years. Yes, we want to make the next ten better in many respects, but in my life, I don't know if I could handle that much joy.

Drum Roll Please . . .

http://igethalf.blogspot.com/

Reassessment

I had an epiphany yesterday, and not necessarily the good kind. However, the resulting actions I take ARE a good thing.

So we returned from the park yesterday, and between the cool air and cold wind, we were freezing. My son tore his knee up at the park pretty badly, so we decided to skip Tae Kwon Do that night and just go to youth group later. That gave us an extra few hours at home to hang out. With that in mind, plus, since we were icy from being outside, I decided some hot chocolate was in order.

Then, it hit me that we had tortillas in the house, and wouldn't a great snack be tortillas toasted in the oven with butter, cinnamon, and sugar? I though it would be - so I made some for the kids and I. Once everything is ready to serve, we all sat together at the table and enjoyed our very new snack. The kids had never had the "homemade churros" before; in reality, I had never made them before. I was totally winging it!

As we finished and cleared the plates, my son comments on how fun that was. He says, "You don't do stuff like this very often." That actually stopped me in my tracks. I froze. "What do you mean, buddy? I make stuff all the time." "Yeah," he replied, "you make basic stuff, not stuff like this usually." At first I was taken aback - I do make "different" stuff; it is just usually fruit based and he does not care for fruity desserts and snacks.

But then I let my ears hear what he was really saying - we don't do stuff like stop in the middle of the afternoon, make a new snack, and just enjoy each other for a while. And he is right, and that is totally my fault.

When I started homeschooling, I did it because I adore being with my kids and get a kick out of teaching them. For many years we did school, but life was just as important. However, once we moved out to California, started working with a charter, had all the extra curricular activities and the like, suddenly we were all schoolwork, running around, and activities. Even on our days home, it was all school, chores, get it done. Then, by the later afternoon, we are all beat and I am ready for a nap! This was not how I wanted my school to work.

I had assessed this earlier when I realized the co-op at the church was just not working for us, so I had to stop that. Teaching those classes from my house a bit later in the afternoon works better for my schedule. But then I am still doing a co-op with friends, and we still have our extra curriculars that the kids love -they are having fun! So what to do?

It hit me when the teacher we work with for the charter commented on how much work we completed one month, even when the kids were sick! And she is right - academically, I demand a lot from the kids, and they rise to those expectations beautifully. But why is my focus so heavily on those academics when I, we, want more than that? Since we have to meet with the teacher one Monday a month, which means we lose that day for "school" for the most part, I decided to commandeer that day overall.

After our morning sports class, my kids are mine - it will be our day as a family. No school, just games, movies, baking, crafts, adventures in new places, visits with friends, that is our day to be a family again. I want to feel that contentment with my children that we used to have - and I think my taking back just one day, we can do it. We like the school schedule, the activites, the busyness, but we miss the perks of slower days. Monday is going to become that day. What a great way to start the week.

Get Writing, and Get My New Book!

You can find my book on creative writing at lulu.com! Here is the link:

http://www.lulu.com/product/paperback/bibliophile/5942135

Happy Writing!

I sit here listening . . .

listening to the type type typing of fingers
on a warm keyboard
as cool breezes tickle my elbows and toes.

I sit here listening
listening to outside sounds
insects, dogs, and the passing cars
that are for once not drag racing, yet.

I sit here listening
listening to that quiet
that only comes once all the children
are asleep in their beds.

The house sighs with me.
I sit here listening
listening to the house sigh
of delicate sounds
of evening air
of children's breaths

I sit here listening.

(Michelle Dalrymple, 2009)

On My Team!

Even though I often want to believe I can do everything myself, I know I can't. Sometimes the most important thing I can have is a team in my corner, working for me.

Usually, that team is pretty much my hubby. It might be my sister, mom, or kids, but often it is Craig and I against the world. However, when something comes up that is beyond our mortal ken, like this past week with our littlest, we need more team members. And I found them.

After the most agonizing week with a primary care physician who won't see us unless we use his urgent care (not even for a follow up from the ER?! Are you kidding me?!), I called a doctor who came as a referral from another urgent care facility. I called his office on Thursday morning after poor Soph's ear looked like it exploded. He answered the phone - so at that point I had spoken to our soon to be new doctor more than our current doctor! After listening to our trials of the week, his first words were: "Can you get her here tomorrow at 8:15?" Of course, I could! By now, this doctor had DONE more than my doctor did for the whole 3 months we were is patients! My biggest concern: our insurance does not flip to him as our primary care provider until August 1. We are one week out from that.

His response: "We will either get you squished in, or we will waive the fee. Just get her here." I am totally willing to pay whatever I need to for my daughter, but already I felt relieved that here was someone else, someone who doesn't even know us, showing more concern for her than most other medical personnel in the past week. I was ecstatic. New team member number one.

We get her there right on time; he explains to his staff what we need to do with the insurance, and his receptionist gets on the line with our insurance. I knew she would get them to cover the bill, because as I went into the exam room with Soph, this is what I heard her say: "I understand that, but we have a little girl who just had a seizure, needs to see a primary care physician, and needs medical care now. Do you want her to have another seizure because she can't get in to see the doctor?" New team member number two.

The nurse who first saw us before the doctor came in was more than courteous and told me that we could not have picked a better doctor - she actually followed him from the urgent care office to this new office just to work for him. New team member number three.

The doctor and his office took great care of Sophie, fixed our insurance to cover the bill, and want her back in the office this week for another follow up. And while it took some trauma to get here, it was a result of our other horrible doctor that led us to Dr. Nguyen. I guess there is a silver lining to every bad situation. I love our new team!

The past revisited

The one thing a mother should never wear is a shirt with her daughter's blood on it. But that is exactly what I wore to the ER last night after a very strange misadventure.

Sophie was supposed to be in bed, but in a moment of bad judgment, decided to pick up one of the cats. She mishandled the cat so badly that the cat scratched her to get away. That is when I heard the screams.

I go running into the bathroom and Sophie's hand is COATED in blood -- thick and welling. I grab a rag from the closet and press it to her hand to staunch the blood. AT the same time I call to Craig for help - just how bad did the cat get her? Pretty badly -- it seems the cat somehow dug deep enough to hit a vein, hence all the blood.

Craig gets on the phone to the nurses' hotline as I inspect the damage to the hand. Not too bad maybe; the blood has already started to clot, but I can see there is a collection of blood under her skin. So I tell Sophie it doesn't look to bad when she tilts her head up to look at the ceiling. I ask her what she is looking at when her eyes roll back into her head.

I know what this is. I know it because this is what I do -- my baby is having a seizure. She starts to fall but I am still holding her wounded hand, so I half-catch her and guide her to the floor, where she begins to twitch and spasm. I am yelling for Craig to call 911, and I am frantic. I know this misery of a condition like this, and I don't want my daughter to suffer through it.

Craig has the nurse transfer him to 911 and I stop yelling at him, but now I am crying because I am in such a panic. Sophie stops twitching and refocuses her eyes. I can see her confusion, and she asks me, "Why am I not in bed mommy? Wasn't I in my bed?" (my first wake up mantra was "there is no place like home" - perhaps the brain defaults to a place of comfort?). I gather her into my arms, and now she is crying because I am crying, and I am failing to get a hold of myself. I keep telling her, "You're OK, baby! You're OK!" and she keeps repeating, "Why am I not in my bed, mommy?" like we are in a bad movie loop.

Craig hangs up the phone and the emergency team is on the way. He picks her up and we go downstairs. I call a friend to come watch the other two, as this is going to be a late night. The paramedics recommend Sophie go to the hospital, since we have a history of seizure in the family. In the ambulance, Sophie talks and talks and talks non-stop. He takes her temp, and she has a fever. She is very pale.

The ER is not quite the stuff of nightmares, but in a community that grew faster than the hospital, we are close to that. There are four paramedic beds waiting for a real bed, and people are in beds in open areas, in every hall. How are there not enough rooms for everyone? The Dr's first visit occurs while we are waiting in this hall. He checks her over and looks at her stats. It is her fever that gives him a clue to her condition - he thinks the seizure was brought on by a quickly spiking fever, but since she is just a bit out of the age range for that condition, ran interference on the cats, and has the family history, he gets her into a bed, and we begin an evening of tests.

Over the course of 5 hours, Sophie is the lucky recipient of several tests. First they do a chest CT. When we get back, they draw some blood and hook up an IV - she evidently needs fluids. When she says she needs to pee, the nurse hands me a cup. What a fun job for me. Afterwards, it takes Sophie a bit of time to fall asleep, as she is "nervous." At one point she jerks awake quickly and calls out, "Mommy! Mommy where are you?" She is a bit confused but remembers quickly where she is and eventually goes back to sleep. Craig and I doze on uncomfortable chairs, then I awake when I hear a noise right by the door. A large, jovial man has arrived with a wheelchair to take Sophie to have a head CT scan. The machine resembles a giant donut, and the man does a good job of being careful and caring for Sophie. Other than the paramedic in the back of the bus, this man has exhibited the most concern for my baby.

He tells me it will take about an hour for the films, and the dr should see us shortly after that. Once we are back in the bed, one more person arrives; Sophie's final test is an EKG, which is quick and easy. We turn off the light and fall back asleep.

I awake with a jerk as my hand and legs are numb from my sleeping position. Sophie has rolled to her side, and she is shivering a bit since her open backed hospital gown is not covered by the thin blanket. I am wrapped in a sheet because I am dressed for the 110 degree weather from earlier, not this hopsital the temperature of an industrial freezer. I cuddle with Sophie for a bit -- it is now after 3:30. A nurse comes in to look at the scratches on Sophies hand and clean them. She does a good job of getting much of the dried blood off Sophie's hand, and then uses a disinfecting wash to take care of the wounds. Another nurse comes in with the Doctor, and we get the final breakdown.

They don't know what caused the siezure (they never really do, do they?) but they think it was Febrile in nature (due to the spiking fever) but they are not 100% certain. As a result, they recommend taking her to a pediatric neurologist (wow, does history repeat itself!) which will most likely mean either another trip to Rady's children's Hospital in San Diego, but maybe we will get lucky and find a reference for the more local Loma Linda. They also prescribe hard core antibiotics for her hand ( I also hope it helps her ear which they say is not infected, but why else should it hurt so bad?). We receive our final paperwork and thank all the nurses and doctors who did their best and took care of my baby. We left just after 4 am.

We arrived home just around 4:30 am, thanked my friend, and Craig walked her to her car. I got Sophie some cereal and a glass of milk while she lamented her inability to use her right hand - the one of the cat scratches -- as they have it pretty heavily bandaged. She takes a few bites and wants to go to bed. I finish my cereal and tuck her in. She is already asleep.

I need to wash that shirt.

On Personal Responsibility

My son is 12 - he will be 13 in December, and I am so proud of him.

He just tested for his black belt in Tae Kwon Do, an accomplishment that has been 5 years in the making. Whether or not he passed, though, is not my moment of pride. My moment of pride involves the events leading up to that moment.

We homeschool, and one of the most important things I am trying to impart to my children is their ability to not only teach themselves, but to also have the personal accountability to do the work well (or better) and on time. For 12 yr old boys, this often extends to the realm of sports and video games, and not much else!

For the past month, my son has been working hard. In this month alone he: 1)completed the Weather Merit Badge for Boy Scouts; 2)completed all his requirements (only has meetings left) for his Second Class rank in scouts; 3) worked as an assistant instructor at his TKD studio for 5-6 hours, on top of his 4) 5-6 hours a week of TKD training. He has essentially worked more this month than *I* have, and that is a lot for a 12 yr old.

But it is more than the accomplishments. Not once did I have to say, "Hey, get to work on your Merit Badge!" or "It's time to practice TKD!" He took that initiative all on his own. When I told him he should start working on his merit badge, he showed me that he was already working on it, and had been for the past hour. He finished his presentation for it a month early as well. While I was upstairs with the girls, he asked if he could "YouTube" his forms to make sure he is practicing them correctly - and he did this for at least an hour a day, ON TOP of his 10-12 hours of class each week.

It is the fact that he stepped up, on his own; that he took the initiative to do the work; that he had the presence of mind to say to himself, "This needs to get done, so I better do it now," is something most ADULTS fail to do.

If nothing else in this world, my son has learned to step up and get the job done.
And that, my friend, is success.

I am becoming a hard core blogger

Instead of working on my books. Bad me! But I look at my blogs as material and notes I can draw from when I do write. I plan on doing a lot of that at the pool while in Vegas. Here is my schedule for Vegas:

Wake up, take pill, go work out for 30 mins, then come back and check email and the like for another 30 min (pill needs an hour to kick in).

Eat my breakfast. This is one area where, if I am having fruit and a granola bar and a glass of milk (my usual) I do not go halfsies. I need those 200-300 calories to start my day and prevent snacking later in the morning. I do only eat half the banana though - I learned recently that half a banana is one serving, so I guess I DO eat my "half" in that respect!

Finish any online work on the laptop. Then change into my (drumroll please) Bikini, grab the laptop, and head to the pool. With some sunscreen and a cool drink, I will begin writing. When the fire of writing burns out, I will then jump in the pool and swim, thus cooling off, and read until I dry off, then start again. I hope to get a huge chunk of writing done over the week!

Around lunch, find something quick and easy that I can cut in half, then go upstairs, shower, and get myself ready to find my hubby at his event. Hang with him and some friends until dinner, the party all night long (or until my bedtime, which is usually about midnight or so)!

Then start all over. I am excited about this writing opportunity - I have never really looked at a vacation as a writing opportunity before, but time to get started!

Vegas, oh ye mecca of partying and writing, here I come!

For more info about "I get half"

My hubby encouraged me to write about this experience. I am going to blog about it HERE to begin recording my little weight loss adventure. That way I have "notes" if I ever decide to write a book about it!

"I get half" Cult Following

Evidently, the "I get half" diet has been pretty successful. Not just for me, but for others as well!

It started with my homeschool group - I see them on a regular basis, and they were the first ones to really notice I was dropping weight. When I first told them all what I was doing, I was a bit embarrassed. I mean, really, there is nothing medical or proven about what I was doing. It just seemed like common sense to me that the easiest way to cut back on ALL my caloric intake was to cut it ALL in half. Then I just added in some of my own rules: fewer sweets, snacks had to be either fruit, cereal, or a cereal/granola bar (half, of course), and more exercise. I even picked up some ankle weights to wear around the house for the added caloric burn.

After some "half a gallon of ice cream" jokes, most of the women commented that it made sense and it was easy. No counting calories, keeping track of food, watch fat grams. The easiest way to cut calories is just to honestly CUT them - in half.

I first noticed it in my back - for some reason I was blessed with back fat. UGH. But that started dropping right away, and as a result, most people could see it dropping from my shoulders as well; I have a very defined collar bone now, and some strong tendons/muscles in my neck. Then my pants started falling off and the moms thought that was hilarious. My hubby has been talking about the weight loss for a week or more now, as it really sees it in my face.

So what is the point of all this? That it is funny how some things get started. My homeschool moms love the fact I am losing weight without a "diet" - just common sense. Their reply was pretty much "That is brilliant" and as word has spread, that is the response I get. My baby sitter loved the idea, and now many of the homeschool moms are doing the same thing (with their own little preference changes). I have had a few other people ask me what I was doing to lose the weight, and they all have the same response too: "brilliant!"

But now the word is really starting to spread - my hubby (who has a huge, extended network of people he knows) has been telling people about it when they complain abou their weight. He tells them, "You know, my wife starting losing weight with her "I get half" diet. . ." and gets pretty much the same reaction: "Brilliant!"

The end result is this little experiment I wanted to try to see if it would help me lose some weight has now lit a fire with others as well. I never expected to be a cult icon - but my diet seems to be one! And hey, if it works . . . why not?

Happy Losing everyone! Let's celebrate with half a glass of champagne and half a serving of cake! :)

I get half!

So, on the cusp of going to Vegas for a work/vacation get a way late in June, I have been trying to get my body ready for a new dress and, at my hubby's request, a bikini. A BIKINI. UGH. I haven't worn one since way before the birth of my third child, over 7 years ago.


My sisters both work out a lot and have great bodies. One sister works for 24-hour fitness, and the other just came in 2nd place in a fitness competition. I didn't not inherit the work-out gene. I am a reader and a writer, not runner or biker. So with a bit of their help and advice, I decided it was time to conquer the treadmill and my diet and get my body Vegas-ready. The spirit is willing; the flesh, weak.


First I really had to commit to the treadmill. I now record most of my TV shows and watch them on the treadmill. I usually can get 20-30 mins a day on the treadmill, plus I use weights and do arm exercises while I walk. Then, once arms are done, I crank up the speed a few notches and jog for a bit, then walk for the remainder of my time. I try to do this 5 times a week. Sometimes I get more, sometime less, but I'm pretty steady.

The most difficult part is the "healthy eating" part. I am not a dieter - I love my chocolate and snacks way too much. I've tried to diet before, and just can't stick to it. I like my junk food too much, and veggies not so much.


I am not into calorie counting - between kids, the house, homeschooling, work, and life in general, I needed something so easy a 2 yr old could do it, and it needed to be cheap. That is when I decided to do the easiest thing I could think of -- cut all the calories in half. That means cutting all the food in half (plus I cut out snacks - I can only have a 1/2 serving of shredded wheat if I'm hungry). If I cut the food in half, I cut the calories in half, simple as that.

So, for the past 4 weeks, I have been going halvsies on everything. The good news is I can still eat much junk and dinner with the kids. And while do get some hunger pangs, they aren't too bad. And, for the past 2 weeks, it has been difficult to eat larger portions or heavier food when I do try.

My stomach is getting used to less, not more, and for the past week, my collar bones have been sticking out -- I am starting to look bony! I used to wear size 16, which now fall off my hips. The size 14s are starting to feel small, and I just put on a size 12, which fit easily, today because I need a new dress for Vegas - and I bought it! Once more size and I will be where I was before I got pregnant with my son; two more and I will be the size I was in high school!

I wasn't huge, but I wasn't happy with my muffin, my back fat, of being the fat sister. I am on my way to losing all three. Who ever said that losing was a bad thing?

The Trials of Laryngitis!

I am a talker. I love to gossip, talk on the phone; I even lecture once a week as a college prof - for nearly 4 hours! So you can imagine how, lacking a voice, my style is truly crimped.

Every few years or so, I manage to catch a cold, but instead of the standard head cold, it settles into my chest and throat, rendering my voice box useless. While many (not the least my hubby) breath a sigh of relief and this brief reprieve, it does really pose significant difficulties for me. Class on Thursday will be interesting if I don't have my voice back by then. And working with the kids on their school work? So much for read alouds for the next few days. Plus, today I am meeting a old friend whom I hardly ever see - I guess it will be a mostly one sided conversation! UGH.

The good news it usually only lasts for a 3-4 days, so I should be back to my chatterbox self by Thursday or Friday. The down side: making myself heard over my gaggle of kids when they get to playing, fighting, yelling, gaming, etc.

It is going to be a quiet week at our house!

Who in the Hell does he think he is?

My doctor, I mean.

Envision a typical doctor visit for an initial consult. You are not sick; nothing is wrong; you are just getting the doctor familiar with you. A typical, easy visit, if scheduled at 9 am, will include a 20 minute wait or so, the 20 minute visit, pay, and you are out the door in an hour.

Now for my doctor:
I have a tight schedule today - doctor in the morning, someone coming by right after noon, and I have to be out the door to each by 4 pm. Very tight. My appt was set for 10 am, and I got there 15 minutes early to fill out paperwork or whatever. My esteemed doctor kept us waiting for an hour and 30 minutes, no apologies, nothing. That was the time BEFORE I ever saw his face. We went through my son first, them began with me.

When we were almost done with my consult, my phone went off (LOUD ringing). I went over to it to check if it was the person stopping over (since it was almost noon and I thought I would be home by this time!) and shut it off and he left the room. When he came back he was infuriated that I didn't turn off my phone, and how it cuts into his time (after I just sat there for an hour and a half? Are you KIDDING ME? I am NOT on YOUR schedule buddy!).

Well, THAT flipped my bitch switch, but I took the higher road. I just shrugged and said "Sorry," when I really wanted to let him know what I thought of MY long wait compared to the 15 seconds it took to get my phone. At this point, I was absolutely frazzled. I hate how some people think their time is so much more important, and there are several doctors in our area that would love a reasonably healthy family of 5. My time is just as valuable, if not, more valuable becuase it is MY time, and MY KIDS' time -- and nothing is more valuable than that, especially not some jerk of a doctor I just met.

Then we resumed the consult and finished, and by then he was acting VERY nice and smiling at me - completely different from his character prior to the phone call of death. Then, as he was getting ready to leave the room, he shook my hand, then just kept touching my hand and kept shaking it again -- a bit up close like. What the hell? Was that an apology for being an ass? If so, it was an uncomfortable one!

After almost 2 1/2 hours at the doctor, I am beat. I am willing to see if the relationship gets better. Otherwise, I think I may have to expand the search for a doctor. Let's hope this was just a misstep - I really don't want to search for a new doctor!

But I will. Don't be a jerk to me, especially if I am paying you for a service, even if you are an esteemed doctor. In this economy, I can and will take my business elsewhere.

Adoptions are fun!

After the sad passing of our Shadow, we mourned for about a day or two when my youngest asked if we can get a new kitty. My loving hubby had already given me the thumbs up on doing this ASAP, so we were ready to go. Imagine my surprise when we couldn't find a kitten to save our souls.

We can't easily adopt from the pound as their "no declawing" rule grossly contradicts my "declaw immediately" law. Nothing on craigslist; nothing in pet stores; nothing from friends. Just when life seemed bleak, a beacon of kitten light appeared by way of a homeschooling friend. She had a neighbor with 2 girl kittens who were headed for the pound if they weren't adopted soon.

She brought them to our park day, and we inspected the kittens, trying to see which we liked more. My son was out-voted, so his choice was put back in her cat carrier while we put our newest member of the family in our little crate.

Then the problem arose - the reject managed to conjure the saddest, most pathetic look and mews known to man. And my soft-hearted son was distressed - he knew the kitten we didn't pick was destined for an unglorious fate. He didn't pester, but he did ask if there was anyway we could take the second one, too.

I admit the kittens were stinkin' cute - how people can NOT adopt kittens is beyond my mortal ken. But that means more work, more $$ for the declaw and spay, more everything. I told him I was not up for it, and I didn't think Daddy would want two cats in the house. Aden asked if he could text daddy and ask him. If dad was OK with it, would I be?

I looked into his earnest face and said, "Sure." I knew my hubby did not want two cats, so we were OK - then Dad's text came through and read "call me" - so I did. He said, "Why not? It will only add to the chaos of the house." I nearly died! He agreed? The kids would be ecstatic!

And they were - we scooped that other kitten out of the carrier, put her in a holey box, and took her home. Stormy managed to dodge the bullet and join her sister Valentine at our house. Two cuddly kittens you've never met - the only way they sleep is entwined with one another.

I told the kids, when Shadow passed, that God had a plan. There was a reason God took Shadow to be with him - maybe there was another cat out there who needed us more. I was wrong. There were two.

The worst week ever.

That pretty much sums it up. How bad, exactly? Let my make a bulleted list for you, from pretty bad to REALLY bad:

1. My daughter forgot to wear an overnight last night, so I had to change pee-sheets at 2 in the morning.

2. One of my classes this semester seems to be heavily LACKING in the brains department. Can we use just an iota of common sense, please?

3. All three kids, and my hubby, have been sick - I have been eating oranges, grapefruit, Zicam, and Airborne like crazy, and Lysol-ing EVERYTHING to ward off all possible germs.

and the worst:
4. My 7 month old kitty died today . . . due to complications while getting spayed and vaccinated.

And piggy-backing on that:
5. How am I going to tell my kids? Especially my 8 year old who told me a few months ago that her biggest fear was to wake up and find the cat bleeding? Or my son who calls the kitten "his" kitten? Or my little 6 year old who has no idea that pets can die?

Oh my God . . . are you kidding me?

The vet called just a few minutes ago, and you know it is going to be bad when the conversation starts like this: "Hello, Michelle. This is Dr. ----- from the Animal hospital. The reason I'm calling is we had some complications . . . ."

I knew. I knew at that moment. The receptionist calls with good news, the Dr. only with the bad.

Shadow was the tiniest gray kitten - feisty as hell. And she hated you and hissed at you until you grabbed one of her "chase me" toys, then she would let you pet her. She cuddled with me all day yesterday, and every morning she would follow me into the bathroom, purring loud enough to vibrate the walls, as if to say, "I am SO glad you finally woke up!" She loved to chase Sophie's feet, play with the dog, and she could jump almost three feet straight up with a back flip to try and chase one of her cat toys.

I love this cat. Even the vet was crying on the phone, and I am crying now just thinking that I don't get her back on Saturday. Instead, we have to talk to the kids and see if we want to pick up the ashes. Don't mention this to the kids yet if you email or talk to them - they don't know yet. We have to have "the talk" tomorrow morning.

The vet said it was a very rare occurrence, especially in a cat this young, energetic, and healthy. It is almost unheard of.

The last thing we said to the kitten as we left was, "Goodbye Shadow! We love you!"

Goodbye, Shadow. We love you.

OOPS! I Did It Again!

Writing, that is!




It has been too long since I sat at the computer for me. I teach college English courses online, set up homeschooling lesson plans with my Word program, and surf the internet, reading my email and homeschool blogs, but it has been almost 2 years since I have submitted anything for publication.Well, over the course of my internet wandering, and reading my own recommendations to other writers, I grew tired. I was tired of everyone else writing, but not me. I am a good writer (Heck, I think I'm a great writer!), but you are not REALLY a writer if you don't write. And I haven't been writing. Nothing except intermittent ramblings on blogs, anyhow.

Enough is Enough! I told myself. I sat down after dinner, let the kids game their brains out on the Wii, and put fingers to keyboard. I wrote an interesting piece on a handwriting impediment for Practical Homeschooling Magazine (I've been published there a few time before - great homeschool resource IMO). Whether or not it will be published is still in the air - it is not my typical fare and it is lengthier than my normal submissions. BUT! It was a submission none-the-less. My first in 2 years.

Once again, I can call myself a writer. Now where is my stinkin' Nobel Prize already?