Changes...They Are A'Comin'!

Warning: vague-booking ahead!

I've had an opportunity on my heart for a while now that would represent a fairly significant life/work change. My brain and heart have battled out this scenario ad nauseum. Today, I "took the plunge" and put out my feelers in a semi-official way. I expected to have days or even weeks go by without getting a response. "Ding!" I had a reply email in under an hour.

I'm not ready to share details yet...need to see how it goes first, and ensure I'm resolute in this decision. But along the way, I sure could use your prayers and well wishes! Thank you!

The Sickies Have Invaded!

I have a super power: going to the doctor for one reason and getting a diagnosis far different.

This morning, I had a 3-month followup at the neuro to check progress on my migraine and trigeminal neuralgia issues. *That* part went well, with only a minor medication change - upping my gabapentin from 3 to 4 times a day.

However, the NP who saw me didn't like my cough. She ordered me to go straight to my PCP, do not pass Go, do not collect $200. Unfortunately, said PCP was overrun with appointments and her next available was a week away. So off to urgent care I went.

With white blood count results sky high and terrible chest xray images, I was the lucky recipient of a double pneumonia diagnosis and had 5 lovely prescriptions foisted upon me. Could have been worse; I managed to talk my way out of being sent to the hospital. Tomorrow, however, I retest. If my WBC hasn't dropped or my lungs haven't shown any improvement, she wants me admitted. In the meantime, water and nebulizer and rest.

Huge thank you to TracieandMickey Bramlett who kept the kiddos while 1 doctor appointment morphed into 2, and toChris D Aller for taking the kids off my hands for the next few days.

If you're a GS parent, you'll soon receive a message canceling tomorrow's meeting. If you're a client, look for an email rearranging my editorial calendar for the week. If you're a crosswalk parent, I'll see you in a few days. And if you're a Sonic employee, how do you feel about making deliveries? 😘

Having stocked up on soup and my comfort foods, I'm now headed to pick up my newly finished prescriptions then crawl into bed. This, too, shall pass.

Sharing Sad News

There isn't always a great way to share bad news, other than to simply put it out there.

Two weeks ago today, my husband filed for divorce. Today, he is preparing to move out. We anticipate this process to take the next couple months to resolve.

This is an incredibly hard and sad time. If you could keep him, I, and Catherine and Jeffrey in your prayers, we would all appreciate it.

In Which I Discuss My Dog's Broken Jaw

I've been posting updates on my dog to my personal Facebook since last evening (1/7) but realized I was excluding folks in my other networks - my author friends, blog followers, Twitter, G+, etc. - and so wanted to come over here and share my story.

Yesterday afternoon, I left my house at around 2 PM to go to my tri-weekly shoulder physical therapy appointment. At the same time, my husband, who is off on Mondays, laid down with our 4-year-old and 2-year-old for nap time. When I got home, we all immediately left together to run a few quick errands. We believed our dogs were in the backyard, where they have the run of a large open space and a large covered patio. Afternoons are their time to go outside, play, run, and get some air.

What really happened...
Our puppy, 9-ish-month-old Samson the gigantinormous yellow lab, ate off the bottoms of several fence slats and then dug out of the yard. Our older dog, 10-year-old Missy, faithfully followed behind. She's big on friendship, low on independent thought.

Having gotten loose, Sammy went looking for trouble, and Missy came along for the "fun." In actuality, Sammy "broke into" a backyard that was home to two pit bulls. They weren't enthused at their uninvited guests. The homeowner called animal control, who came and rounded up our two escapees...but not before Missy got hurt.

In the meantime, we came home and discovered our dogs were gone. Chris drove the neighborhood and I shouted for the dogs. We ate dinner. Then we all piled back in the car and searched again. It's a spread-out area with the houses having much larger yards than is the norm in suburban DFW, and we also have coyotes and all sorts of other delightful wildlife. In addition, we live less than a mile from the intersection of two very busy highways. I feared the absolute worst.

We didn't find the dogs. I searched for animal control information on my phone to see where I could call to find out if the dogs had been taken to a shelter. I discovered that the city shelter puts up a picture of newly found dogs when they are taken in. In short order, I'd found the mugs of both of my dogs. Unfortunately, the shelter was closed for the evening and I could do nothing except wait for morning.

Daughter Cate and Missy
Feb. 2011

This morning, I got up with the kiddos and after breakfast and baths and the like, we headed out to rescue our friends. Since toddlers move slower than a geriatric snail, or approximately inverse to how fast you're trying to get them to move, it was late morning by the time we reached the shelter, 2.5 hours after they'd opened for the day.

We signed in and got taken back right away. I described the dogs to the kind worker and she took me right to them. Sammy was kenneled with the other large dogs, and Missy was in the clinic, bloody and battered. The vet tech said she thought Missy had a broken jaw and advised that I take her to our vet right away to be evaluated and treated. After filling out a ton of paperwork, paying the impound and boarding fees and waiting....waiting....waiting....we were finally able to leave.

After dropping the big dog at home (it was already difficult to manage two kids and two dogs at the same time, with a still-weak post-op shoulder), we got to the vet near our home. By that time, it was afternoon and the kids had eaten the bags of food I'd brought for them, downed their drinks and were napping in the back seat. I left them there and went it, and they took us back right away (I'd called from the shelter) and checked Missy out six ways from Sunday. Not only did the vet note that the dog's jaw was broken, possibly in multiple places, but she also found that Missy's entire back half of her body and rear end were bitten up and inflamed.

I was running laps between the exam room and my car, so I could keep an eye on my poor puppy and my sleeping kids. Thank God it was warm enough today to leave them in the car. A parrot that wouldn't stop squawking nearly drove me out of my mind, and I had to remind myself constantly not to be irritated at how long her exam and intake were lasting. Finally, I signed a release and they took her back to be sedated, shaved for further examination, and x-rayed. I left with the kids and we shared a very late lunch. By the time we were done, my husband was home from work and I headed back to the vet alone.

(The rest of this post is a copy with minor modifications from my last update to the FB thread about Missy's injury. I just don't have it in me to rewrite it. And in any case, most of you who read it here will not have seen it there.)


So here's the overall scoop on Missy. First, she has been an absolute angel for the vet - is being completely docile and cooperative, despite being in a ton of pain. Next, the x-rays of her jaw showed a bit different story than we first thought. She has a break on either side of her jaw, about an inch back from the end of her mouth/jaw. This means the front part is completely unconnected from the rest of her jaw and is literally hanging on by skin alone. Where they thought there was a break farther back is actually just a little bit of dislocation where her jaw hinges, and it's bilateral. Should heal on it's own, apparently. The theory is that the other dog simply took her lower jaw in its mouth and bit down...and we know that pits have a very powerful bite. Her jaw will be wired on both sides while the bones fuse back together. If they don't fuse, she'll need the front of her lower jaw to be amputated. I know. That horrifies me as well.

Now, on to the rest of her body. They had to shave her completely from mid-body on back, both top and bottom. If this wasn't a horrific situation, she'd look like she was mooning the world, especially since her tail is still so fluffy. The shaving revealed that the entire area is inflamed, bruised, and has bite marks all over it. Below her butt is one especially large spot, and she has a torn perineum. The vet theorized that one dog may have mounted her while the other dog broke her jaw. I suppose if she were human, we'd call that rape. After surgery, she'll need to do hydrotherapy every three hours for a few weeks to keep that spot and several others moist as they heal, to avoid infection.

How about some good news? Her upper jaw is intact. Her legs/feet are fine. Her neck is fine. The doc found no evidence of injury to the front part of her body. She's a good weight, has a strong heartbeat, is otherwise 100% healthy, is just 10 years old, is able to come (and cling!) to me, and has retained her sweet disposition. She's in a large kennel at the vet and they let me climb in and sit with her for awhile after the vet met with me this evening to review her results.

Going forward...Missy's jaw surgery will be at 7 AM tomorrow morning, barring anything weird coming back on her bloodwork. Both our vet and the senior vet at the clinic will be involved. She'll be under full anesthesia, have a nerve block, and have a canine version of lidocaine to numb her mouth. They'll wire her jaw back together on both sides and then repurpose some of her gum tissue to cover the holes that are now allowing her jaw bone to stick through. Afterwards, she'll be sedated and on morphine most of the rest of the day. Depending on how she does, she'll be sent home either Thursday night or Friday night. At that point, she'll be on four medications: a pain med (same as I take, ironically - ultram), an anti-inflammatory and two antibiotics. She'll also be on a liquid diet for three weeks (1 part soft food mixed with 3 parts water) and will do hydrotherapy at home for her wounds. At that point, if healing is progressing nicely, we'll be able to start introducing solid foods again and she'll get back to "normal" life.

Finally, a note on pit bulls. Listen, they get a bad rap. 99% of pit bulls are fabulous pets. But, like any population, it's the 1% that ruin it for them all. And my dogs were in the wrong on this, and I know it. Sammy chewed and dug out and the ever-faithful-but-not-intelligent Missy followed along. Sammy then broke into someone else's backyard, and that someone else happened to own two pit bulls. Those dogs were defending their turf. Perhaps violently, but it was their yard. Sammy wasn't hurt...he was probably a lot larger than the pits. But Missy is smaller and weaker and thus became the one attacked. Her injuries, thank God, won't kill her. Yes, she needs a very expensive surgery to try to fix her jaw, and yes she's in pain with the other issues right now. But she's otherwise healthy, fairly young, and has a strong constitution. After she recovers, she'll regain most, if not all, of her quality of life. She's in great hands.

That's all I got for now. It's been an incredibly taxing day emotionally, physically and on my (now-depleted) bank account as well. I need to rearrange my work week since today was a total loss and snag a few more projects to pay for all of this mess. Thank you for all ya'lls thoughts, prayers, texts, and calls today. I'm thankful for them.

Reflections from the Softer Side of Bad Weather

Over the past weeks, I've seen my Facebook and Twitter feeds nearly fill up with friends and family along the Eastern seaboard talking about first an earthquake, then Hurricane Irene, and now even more raining and flooding.  With the exception of the earthquake - weirdness, all around - the thoughts of the nasty weather than can hit the northeast and its after affects has me reflecing on my childhood.

Growing up on Price's Drive in Mountainhome, I remember losing power. A lot.  In the spring, in the summer, in the fall, and even occasionally in the winter.  While the rest of the Poconos - and even, sometimes, the rest of Barrett Township might be restored - we'd sometimes sit without power for days.

As an adult, I imagine this would be a large pain in the butt.  Especially with small children.  Who are as used to and spoiled by "modern conveniences" as I am - like a constantly-open refrigerator, satellite television, online games and flushable toilets.  (You can't get more than a flush or 2 out of a toilet when the power's out and no water is pumping - did you know that?  And you thought your mom was crazy for keeping buckets of water to use - it was to force flush the toilet.  Heh!  My mom would save every gallon jug on the planet and fill them all with water ahead of storms.  We'd have flushing ability for days.  Good stuff.)

What I remember, though, is the softer side of bad weather rolled in. 

Forget cooking on the stove - break out the sterno.  Something about cooking over sterno with it's flickering flame, while rain pounds down around, makes whatever food is being cooked taste all that much better.  And speaking of food, getting it was an adventure.  My mother stocked our basement like a nuclear attack was inevitable and would make our house the town food bank.  I'm. Not. Kidding.  But...it was the basement.  And with bad weather, there might be water accumulated on the floor, especially if the sump pump wasn't keeping up.  So going downstairs to retrieve some of the millions of cans of food could become an adventure. 

And the refrigerator!  And freezer!  Forget this worrying about food going bad after a day or so when the power was out.  Ours never did, even after several days.  We learned to pack the freezer tightly, so that the frozen foods insultated each other.  That thing would stay frozen for a week.  The fridge?  It became a game.  Ok.  What do we need for this meal?  Make a list.  Ok.  Remember which shelves those things are on?  Ok.  Now...3...2...1...GO!  And then we'd open the fridge and in 5 seconds or less gather all the necessary things.  If something was forgotten, too bad!  And hopefully you used up everything you took out, so another door-opening mission wasn't necessary.

And lights - I remember the softer side of lights.  My mother thought candles were dangerous.  And, considering the klutz that I am, that was probably a wise fear.  And flashlights were just plain clunky!  So we used hurricane lamps.  I. Love. Hurricane lamps!  In fact, I still have several in my house that I try to trot out a time or two a year, even though we've never needed them here.  A bottle of oil and a bit of wick would keep you lit for quite a long time.  You could read books, listen to the radio, or enjoy a game of cards, all by Hurricane lamp.

No video games.  No microwaves.  No generator - at least not at our house. 

Lots of radio listening - was another front coming?  Would power come back soon? 

Lots of talking - my mom and dad sharing their memories of storms long past.

Lots of reading - Lord knows, I've never had a shortage of books in my life.

Some games, some food, some sheer downtime.

Bad things happy when nasty weather rolls in...but sometimes, there are softer sides as well.

To those who endured or are enduring flooding and damage, those of us in drought-ridden Texas are thinking of you and hoping for the best!

A.A.A.D.D.

(I originally posted this to my old MySpace blog in mid-2007, after my husband forwarded to me with a note that said "this is YOU."  Aw, honey.  Too funny not to repost here!)

Recently, I was diagnosed with A.A.A.D.D. - Age Activated Attention Deficit Disorder. This is how it manifests:

I decide to water my garden.

As I turn on the hose in the driveway, I look over at my car and decide it needs washing.

As I start toward the garage, I notice mail on the porch table that I brought up from the mail box earlier.

I decide to go through the mail before I wash the car.

I lay my car keys on the table, put the junk mail in the garbage can under the table, and notice that the can is full.

So, I decide to put the bills back on the table and take out the garbage first.

But then I think, since I'm going to be near the mailbox when I take out the garbage anyway, I may as well pay the bills first.

I take my check book off the table, and see that there is only one check left.

My extra checks are in my desk in the study, so I go inside the house to my desk where I find the can of Coke I'd been drinking.

I'm going to look for my checks, but first I need to push the Coke aside so that I don't accidentally knock it over.

The Coke is getting warm, and I decide to put it in the refrigerator to keep it cold.

As I head toward the kitchen with the Coke, a vase of flowers on the counter catches my eye--they need water.

I put the Coke on the counter and discover my reading glasses that I've been searching for all morning.

I decide I better put them back on my desk, but first I'm going to water the flowers.

I set the glasses back down on the counter, fill a container with water and suddenly spot the TV remote.

Someone left it on the kitchen table.

I realize that tonight when we go to watch TV, I'll be looking for the remote, but I won't remember that it's on the kitchen table, so I decide to put it back in the den where it belongs, but first I'll water the flowers.

I pour some water in the flowers, but quite a bit of it spills on the floor.So, I set the remote back on the table, get some towels and wipe up the spill.

Then, I head down the hall trying to remember what I was planning to do.

At the end of the day: the car isn't washed the bills aren't paid there is a warm can of Coke sitting on the counter the flowers don't have enough water, there is still only 1 check in my check book, I can't find the remote, I can't find my glasses, and I don't remember what I did with the car keys.

Then, when I try to figure out why nothing got done today, I'm really baffled because I know I was busy all day, and I'm really tired.

I realize this is a serious problem, and I'll try to get some help for it, but first I'll check my e-mail....Do me a favor. Forward this message to everyone you know, because I don't remember who I've sent it to.

Don't laugh -- if this isn't you yet, your day is coming!!

Texans and Snow

Before I moved to Texas almost nine years ago, I would have sworn to you that it didn't snow here. After all, I was moving to the area better known for 100+ degree days in the summer than lower-than-freezing in the winter.

My first winter here, we had two days off from work for sleet. My mom hasn't yet stopped teasing me about that.

Last Christmas, we had a foot of snow. A foot! Are you kidding me?

And now, today, we're on our third day of iffy roads and cancelled activities. So I thought I'd offer up three reflections this morning on snow in Texas.

1. Your SUV is worthless. I love that people think that because they have a big old honking truck or SUV, they can barrel down barely-cleared roads. First, it has to have four wheel drive to make a difference, and many of the SUVs and trucks in Texas do not. Second, the moron sitting up front has to know HOW to handle a four wheel drive for it to do a damn bit of good. Here's a hint: stay home.
2. Buy out the entire grocery store. Please. Because in addition to being stuck in your house a whole half mile from the store for ohmygod three days, we may also then get hit by an inland typhoon and a category 15 tornado that rips the very ground from beneath our feet. Seriously. I'm not kidding. I saw it on YouTube.
3. Post your plight to Facebook/Twitter/Your(my) Blog. Your friends up north in actual snow belts who are currently staring down 18 inches of fluff will definitely take pity on you and help you to plan out your survival strategy for the sleet that may come tomorrow. And they definitely won't make fun of you to other friends.

Ah, snow. Ah, Texas. What a perfect storm of hilarity!


Companion Pieces

0 to Mom: Kids and Snow Days

The Officer's Wife: Snow Days and Scheduling

My Life and Meat Loaf

I'm a huge fan of Meat Loaf.  Have been since childhood - and I'm surely not talking about the dinner entree.

Like many teenagers, I went through an angry phase.  Ok, maybe a decade.  It started around the time of my grandmother's death, when my mother's extreme grief left me feeling abandoned, and ended 9 years later when I decided I didn't need constant anger and triggers in my life.  I moved 1500 miles away and *poof* - instantly happier person.  Have been for most of the almost-nine years I've been here in Texas.  Life hasn't been without it's ups and downs - but I'm one helluva lot more balanced now than as a teen.

I have a teenager in my house right now who is at the pinnacle of his angry stage.  Been there for awhile.  Came down a bit for awhile, but now back up there in the clouds that seem to have a red tinge.  It's been a tremendous opportunity to get to work with him since he arrived in mid-May of 2010 but it feels like an impending huge loss to know he'll be leaving in less than two weeks.  And naturally, since life gets boring without drama, the shiznit hit the fan...actually, it's been hitting and splattering for just over a month now.

Tonight, while reviewing what was a not-so-great evening, I was suddenly transported back to my own teen years (cue the music from Bat Out of Hell II: Back Into Hell) and the words from one of my favorite Meat Loaf songs sprang into my head.  That doesn't happen to me very often; I love music but don't generally define my life with lyrics. 

In fact, I can think of only four times this has happened to me, including tonight:

• a song I shared with my high school sweetheart:
  (You're Still the One, Shania Twain),
• the song that prompted me to change my college major:
  (Livin' On a Prayer, Bon Jovi),
• the song I share with my husband:
  (Bless the Broken Road, Rascal Flats),
• and now the song to describe the past three-quarters of a year:
  Meat Loaf's Everything Louder than Everything Else (Wasted Youth).

Here are the lyrics that are resonating with me right now, used completely without permission but with all credit for their genius going to artist Meat Loaf and composer Jim Steinman.  (First 5 lines are key, the next two parenthetical lines are one of my personal mantras, and the remainder is included because, well, I've always loved this entire stanza.)

And I ain't in it for the power,
And I ain't in it for my health
I ain't in it for the glory of anything at all
And I sure ain't in it for the wealth
But I'm in it till it's over and I just can't stop
(If you wanna get it done,
You gotta do it yourself)
And I like my music like I like my life
Everything louder than everything else,
Everything louder than everything else,
Everything louder than everything else,
Everything louder than everything else,
Everything louder than everything else,
Everything louder than everything else.

Read the full lyrics here.
Great stuff.  I'll have to hunt up either my original or live CD tomorrow and play.  For the first time in years, I'll fall asleep tonight listening to music...even if it's only inside of a memory inside of my head.

Good night!

Hair and Insight

I had a "day off" on Saturday to go have some kid-less time.  I used part of the time to get my hair done.  I love making conversation, so I asked the hairdresser (a student who did a SUPERB job) why she had chosen to go to beauty school.

Her answer surprised me.  She didn't cite a love of hair or a lifetime spent beautifying others.  Instead, she told me this story.

A few years ago, not long after she graduated from high school, she was speaking to a friend of hers who she considers to be a talented artist.

She told her friend that she admired his talent, but didn't feel like she had any talent of her own.

His answer was outstanding.

"Create one."

His point, she relayed to me, was that not all talent is inborn.  Some is acquired, and has to be worked at to master.  (I'd argue that some = most.)  He told her that she couldn't wait for a talent to be magically revealed, but instead needed to work to develop a talent of her own.

This young lady loves fashion and one day dreams of owning a string of stores catering to various areas of talent, such as shoes, clothes, and wedding gear.  But she realizes that the money and knowledge to be able to do that doesn't just fall from heaven.

So she went to college, where she has a year of school to finish for a business degree, and is also attending beauty school.  She wants to master the full package of fashion, and that includes both the business end and the service end.

How smart!  And how many of us sit around waiting for talent to magically drop down on us?

We can learn from the sage decisions of this young lady.  Don't wait or expect talent to just happen - work for it!

What do you think?

Baby 2.0

Hi, everyone!

Just wanted to take a moment to share our good news: we will be welcoming a new baby into our family in late June/early July. We're very excited and think that having less then 2 years between our kiddos will work out quite nicely.

You'll be hearing more about Baby 2.0 on three of my blogs.

~At Breakfast at Tiffany's, I'll be talking about time management and goal management and how those are impacted by a growing family.

~At How to Have a Baby, I'll be dishing the details of this particular pregnancy and some of the health bumps along the way.

~At Zero to Mom, I'll be talking about potty training, preparing for a new baby, preparing a toddler to be a big sister, and sibling rivalry.

Over the next few weeks, you'll also see some major revamping done on our food blog (Worth a Damn Recipes) and some major updates to my book blog (Read and Release). Major remodeling on my freelance and fiction writing web site is almost finished, as well.

So stay tuned with me for the next few months...it'll be a fun ride!

Hugs!

(cross-posted to B@T, HTHAB, and 0TM.)

Tiffany Needs a Bubble

Various people have threatened to make me go live in a bubble, at various points of my life.  They’re (usually) joking, but with every joke, there’s a kernal of truth.
Between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I was down with pneumonia for three weeks.  Straight.  Went to the doctor five times, got two different shots of steroids, two different shots of antibiotics, was prescribed my own nebulizer for daily breathing treatments, had five prescription inhalers, and also was prescribed two different oral antibiotics, a cough medicine with codeine, an antihistamine, and a separate medication for congestion.  I felt like I was singlehandedly keeping the medical industry in business during that time – seriously!  Add up the dollars for those visits and those meds plus the nebulizer – we’re talking mega-bucks here, and thank God for having great insurance coverage.
I joked to my boss, about a week after I returned to work, that I felt like I’d paid my dues for the winter season and that surely being so sick for so long would mean that I wouldn’t get sick again all winter.

WRONG!

And how.
I took the family to Boston with me about two weeks ago.  I had a business meeting to attend up there, and took an extra day off from work so we could spend some time sightseeing around a very neat city.
While we were there, strolling around Quincy Market before heading back to the airport, baby Catherine got sick as a dog.  We’re talking simultaneously ruining her outfit, her sweater, her coat AND leaving a huge mess in her stroller for her dad to deal with while I tried to get her cleaned up and changed.  Barely after getting settling onto the plane a couple hours later, she repeated the feat while on her father’s lap.
Ugh.
The day after getting home, I started feeling a little iffy, later at night.  Thought I would get it out of my system quickly, like Cate did, and get on with life.  But the next morning, everything was still abandoning my body like a tornado siren had sounded.  And unlike Cate, I wasn’t able to take in any foods or liquids.
Not good.
So we headed to the E.R., figuring that they’d pump me full of (IV) liquids and send me home.
Nope.  About six hours after arriving, I was instead admitted.  In the not-quite-medical terms of the ER terms, my blood looked bad.  The white blood count was twice the upper end of the normal range, and various other numbers were out of whack.  Added to the fact that the IV wasn’t stopping my body’s internal evacuation and I earned myself a one-way ticket upstairs.
I still thought it was no big deal.  I actually asked the admitting nurse if I would get to go home the next morning.
She laughed at me!  For several minutes!
Nope.
Turns out that my immune system, already being severely strained from the pneumonia, was putting up no fight at all against a pretty nasty infection.
And so there I stayed for five days.  Five very long days, where I got to see my daughter for half hour snatches once or twice a day and largely spent the rest of the time alone.  Well…as alone as you can get while being visited by various doctors, nurses, aides and techs, who seemed to have made a pact that SOMEONE should come see me at least once an hour.
When I finally got out, a week ago, I was weak as a kitten, still not feeling great, but at least well enough to finish recuperating in my own home instead of in a hospital that was great at providing meds but horrible at providing rest.
And so that’s where I’ve been disappeared to, these last few weeks.  Once home, I spent a lot of time sleeping or vegging, avoiding anything more strenuous than kissing baby Catherine or turning the pages of a book.  I started back to work, from home, on Tuesday, and followed up with a partial day in the office today.
I am very pleased to report that I am doing much better now and I look forward to getting back on track with quite a number of posts that I have planned for this and my other blogs – stay tuned!
In the meantime, I’m busily shopping online for a new bubble!

Speaking Up

Sometimes, the hardest thing to do is to speak up.

Putting up information on the internet, sending emails, commenting on articles...all of those mediums can get information out, but don't rise nearly to the level of making a public statement in front of the very body you are seeking to influence.

Many of you have watched in horror over the past few months as hysterical activists have taken over the city of Fort Worth and actively set out to hijack an otherwise ordinary occurrence to use as a political agenda. Along the way, ruining a few lives or reputations wasn't even an afterthought for these individuals.

We've been so lucky to have such a supportive family and circle of friends during this time. I've heard from you with phone calls, emails, Facebook notes and more about how ridiculous this entire situation is.

But I still needed to publicly speak up.

With Kristen in tow, I visited the Fort Worth City Council meeting last night and finally got my say. It wasn't when I wanted to - I got slotted in to speak during the response time for a resolution, instead of during the citizen presentation time - and I had less time than I wanted - I used precious seconds to explain that I wasn't speaking either for or against the resolution - but I got out my thoughts.

The Council all maintained eye contact with me, my own Councilman nodded along, and Kristen wasn't the only one clapping after the bell ring to signify the end of my time. I even received kind words afterwards from several folks, including one area journalist.

All in all, I felt exhilarated to have spoken up. It might not change a damn thing...but at least I said my piece.

And yes...I'll be posting a link to the prepared speech soon...check back!

We have a new project...

Chris and I have been hemming and hawing over when to re-do the dining room.

Not that big a project, really.

Just stripping the wallpaper, repairing the walls, painting, crown moulding, chair rails, and baseboards.

Just.

So...I meandered into the dining room this morning, experimentally pulled back a piece of wallpaper, and, well, 8 hours later, the walls were bare.

Guess that means we're redoing the dining room!

Carousel of Absurdity

Pardon the following flight into melodrama. Four years ago today, my husband and I got engaged. A year ago today, my dad passed away. Today, I got an even better look at the hypocrisy and ineptitude present in the leadership of my husband's employer than even the past month has provided. I'm a little overwhelmed right now.

I sometimes think my life is a never-ending carousel of absurdity. The baby, having just gotten over a major sickness, just slipped while trying to pull herself up against the coffee table. She lacerated her tongue fairly deeply and a half hour later, is still spitting out a fair amount of blood.

I'm debating whether to take her to the doctor or simply allege police brutality, since the media and activists have labored so intensely to teach us over the past month that a person could never, ever injure herself by falling on her own face.

Earlier today, when I called to discuss the weight the baby lost while sick, the nurse advised me to feed the heck out of her for the next few weeks so she can gain back the weight she lost while dealing with her nasty intestinal virus. I'm sure that'll be *real* easy with a split tongue. *headdesk* Oh, wait. That could cause a head injury. Have I come full circle yet?

Anyone know how to book a plane ticket to the Bermuda Triangle?

**And yes, there are still posts in queue that I have to get up from my cell phone posting debacle. Coming soon. Promise. Someday. In the future. While I'm sipping mai tais in the aforementioned desirable vacation destination.**

On Respect

I've been thinking a lot about the issue of respect, lately, and here are some thoughts that I want to share.

• In order to gain respect, you need to give respect. If you treat people like crap, they will respond in kind.
• In order to be viewed with respect, you need to look respectful. Going to a community event dressed in sloppy clothes and expecting to be treated seriously among the folks who gave some thought to their appearance is hilarious. You don't have to spend money to take care of your appearance; simple grooming and foregoing your comic book character shirt is sufficient.
• In order to be heard with respect, you need to speak with respect. When you ask a question and do not allow the other party to respond, you ought not be surprised when you are chastised or not taken seriously. Calling names and childish language will not enable your message to carry weight.
• In order for your rights to be respected, you need to respect the rights of others. Covering yourself with the blanket of equality doesn't exempt you from the need to show respect for those who disagree with your thoughts, ideas or stance. Jumping on dissenting opinions will strip away that blanket and instead cloak you with the deserved aura of intolerance.

Readers, what do you think? Comment away - respectfully, of course!

(And by the way, I have like two dozen posts written from the last two months for my various blogs...I thought they'd posted, as I did them from my handy-dandy new cell phone, but apparently not...so off to investigate what the heck!)

Three Years Ago Today...

...I was wishing that the day would just GET OVER so we could start our honeymoon at South Padre Island. (Have you read my wedding travails?)

Tonight, I celebrate 3 years of marriage with Christopher...and it's been a terrific three years. Between buying our house, having our baby, and weathering lots of interesting times together, I'm constantly reminded that I absolutely married the best man in the world.

Love you, baby!

And the Winner Is...

Any Toastmasters out there?

Just over a year ago, I joined the Toastmasters club that meets at my office. For me, it was a great opportunity. I've been a speaker all my life...between just flat out chattering, to more defined opportunities in speech and debate, drama, etc. So this was a way for me to re-engage in speaking. I love it!

This spring, I qualified to compete in the District level competitions for both Table Topics and the International Speech Contest. The competition was this weekend.

Table Topics is a competition where you are given a question and have to answer it immediately within a 1-2 minute timeframe. I was extremely tickled to win 2nd place in the District competition this weekend. Yahoo!

The international speech competition is often used for inspirational type speeches. I gave a speech related to sharing memories - how you are remembered by what you share with others. I love my speech, and I love it all the more because my dad inspired it.

Unfortunately, I didn't win, or even place in the top three at districts, but I was able to reach many people in the audience, who shared memories with me after the competition. What a neat opportunity! I didn't realize that may be an outcome...but it was so neat to experience.

Any other Toastmasters out there?

Moving, Moving, Moving

Relax, we're not actually moving.

We're just moving furniture.

Again.

It's like we get bored every few months, and just have to change things up.

So here I sit in bed, contemplating my aching back, because I leveraged a desk from an upstairs bedroom to our bedroom downstairs last night by myself.

I know, yell away.

But dang it, I'm independent. I shouldn't need my husband to do things for me!

In any case, I often wonder what it is about me that prompts these kind of moves. It's like I have a gypsy instinct...I have to have constant change. In fact, I get itchy if I don't get out of Texas every so often.

I wonder what it will take in life to make me feel truly settled. Don't get me wrong...I love my life. But I just always feel a little bit antsy to change things up.

Which is also pretty bizarre...because I have an obsession with schedules and status quo.

But not when it comes to my surroundings, apparently.

Oddness!

Taxes

I'm just marveling about how nice it was not to scramble to get my taxes done this year. I got them all done back in February, instead of waiting until the last minute like the last three or four years, and that's just a HUGE BONUS. Especially coming home from mom's house and not having to do that. YAY for me!

Of Direct Deposit and Digital Cameras

Do you ever think that we've OVER-simplified the world?

I have two examples that are SUPER helpful and are great technological advances - but that I still complain about regularly.

#1: Direct Deposit
I love direct deposit because I hate running errands. Before direct deposit, I had to (a) wait for my paycheck to come in the mail (or get handed to be at work at one of my jobs) and then drive to the bank and then stand in line and then wait for the check to clear and THEN I'd get to spend my money. With direct deposit, the money is magically waiting for me on payday, and I can then spend it immediately.

YAY.

Crap.

Although it's lovely to have my money available immediately, not going to the bank means that I'm not filling out a deposit slip, which then means that I'm not filling out the little line asking how much money I want to receive in cash versus deposit.

Which, of course, means that I never have cash. Ever.

Argh! LOVE immediate money, HATE never having actual cold, hard cash.

Whereas it was once routine to go to the bank weekly, it's now a pain in the ass to even go to the ATM. We've over-simplified life!

#2: Digital Cameras
I was given my first digital camera about 4 years ago by my friend Stephanie. Before that, I'd used the same trusty 35mm for many years - in fact, it was my 16th birthday present from my father. It was a brilliant camera, terrific zoom lens, built like a tank (I drop stuff...a lot) and followed me to dozens of states and a handful of countries taking thousands of pictures.

Know what happened to those pictures, after they were shot?

Righto - they were developed.

Like at the pharmacy. Where they hand you actual pictures that you can put in albums, frames, or send to family and friends.

I'm now on my second digital camera. I bought it the weekend before my first baby shower, last summer. Great deal from the now defunct Circuit City. High-end camera. Works like a charm.

Know what it doesn't do?

Spit out film that I need to take to the pharmacy to get developed, so that I can then have shots to put in albums, frames, or send to family and friends.

Now, those thousands of pictures that I take (dude...I have a baby...we're constantly snapping shots) get transferred to my laptop, posted to Shutterfly if people hassle me enough, and only very, very randomly get turned into prints to send out or display.

Why is the drive to the pharmacy to get prints done now twice as long as it was when I used to drive there twice - once to drop off film and again to pick up the developed prints?

Over-simplification...how has it affected your life?