Belly and The Bug: Erika

Showing posts with label Erika. Show all posts

Quelles des vacances! And, um, sleeping with my husband just isn't working out.

A week ago, I packed a hanging bag with only items belonging to me, drove my fast car to the airport, handed my passport to the appropriate TSA people, and boarded a plane to Montreal. How grown up! How fancy free! How.... needed.

My brother-in-law, Billy, had a film, The Suicide Tapes, in the Fantasia Film Festival (the largest genre festival of its kind in North America, I might add) and I went to support him. And to hang out with my sister, Erika, because we like each other and we like to eat a shit-ton of good food when we see each other. Always fun. Always.

Let me back up a minute, though, and make something perfectly clear: I hate being scared. I can't understand the logic in wanting to be scared. I don't do haunted houses or scary books or, worst of all, horror films. I have the scare-factor of a little kid so I just avoid that stuff altogether. I'm 36 years old and I have done a pretty good job at this avoidance.... until now. This "genre" film festival was all scary movies. I mean, everything from psychological thriller to slasher to whatever other kinds there are (I don't know because, again, I avoid them). I figured that I would watch Billy's film (it was my understanding that it was creepy, but not really scary, per se) and that would be it. Well, the first night in Montreal, we attended a "filmmaker dinner" before the screening with the guys who made the movie to which Billy's was attached, Absentia. Billy's film is a short and theirs is a feature. Everyone was excited because the screening was one of the few at the festival that had sold out in advance. The Absentia guys were really nice and as we got to know each other a bit, I blurted out, "Hey, listen. I hate scary movies. I get scared really easily - like, REALLY easily. I was planning to cut out on yours, but now I feel a little guilty about that. I'll try to watch it, but I might need to leave. It's nothing personal. But tell me about the movie. Is it gory? Bloody? Are there ghosts? What?" They couldn't believe I was at a horror film festival and hated horror films. But you know, whatever. Technicalities. They assured me that they wouldn't take it personally if I left halfway through the movie. And if I had nightmares, I had permission to slap the filmmaker (there was a second screening of the movies together the following afternoon, so I'd be sure to see him again). It all sounded reasonable to me, but I was still nervous.

We got to the theatre and the crowd was awesome. Packed! The seven of us attached to the films sat on the steps, along the wall - Erika in front, then Billy, me, and the four Absentia guys. It was terrible. And by that, I mean terrifying. I was so tense. I had to keep my eyes covered for a lot of it, but I couldn't block the sound. Ugh. About halfway through the movie, I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. Good thing I'd slipped my heels off, because I jumped up and practically flew over the others behind me as I bolted out of the theatre doors.

Next thing I knew, I was waking up on the cold floor with two security people standing over me, freaking out. Everything was spinning. I hadn't puked, but I'd most assuredly fainted. They told me not to move. They called paramedics. I insisted on sitting up. The paramedics were there quickly and at first they thought I was drunk; then they thought I was on drugs; and then maybe crazy. As time (minutes) went by and I felt better and better, and let them take my blood pressure, etc., they decided that I'd been so stressed out by the movie that I must've been holding my breath, blocking the flow of oxygen to my brain or something like that. Yeah. Great. Because THAT wasn't embarrassing! Once I drank some water and felt fine again, I went back in the theatre. I sat next to Erika and told her what happened. "What?!" She whispered to Billy what had happened, who whispered to the Absentia guys what happened. Erika also mentioned something about me smacking the shit out of those guys. Again, that sounded reasonable. I kept my eyes averted for most of the rest of the movie.

Finally both movies were done and we went out for drinks as a group. The Absentia guys felt bad, but when they realized that I really was fine, they thought it was super cool that I fainted from fright. I guess that's a pretty good compliment. I guess. I don't know. I can't imagine I'll be watching another scary movie for a long, long time. If ever.

The rest of the vacation was pretty great. We had amazing Japanese food for dinner one night at a teeny, teeny, tiny restaurant named Kazu. The next night we had incredible French at L'Express. We walked all over from downtown to the old city and up to Mont Royal. We went back to Kazu for ramen (only served at lunch). We had poutine. We had crepes - twice. We found a place that made the best iced lattes in the entire world. We ate and ate and ate and ate. It was four full days of being tourists and it was glorious. It was also the longest I'd ever been away from my peeps. I missed them. I was ready to come home and cover them with kisses. Which I did.

Oh! I almost forgot! The second night we were there, our hotel phone rang around 3am. I don't remember it, but Erika says I jumped up in bed but didn't answer it. The next morning, our message light was flashing. Someone had left us an obscene message. It's not totally, totally nasty, but it's pretty bizarre - almost clinical. Here it is, if you're interested (but consider yourself warned that you shouldn't play this at work or in the presence of children):

Changing subjects abruptly, because there is both a) nothing more that can be said about that, and b) there's not an easy way to open this next part (although I realize this is not the most appropriate way, either, for which I'm truly sorry).....

Two nights ago, right after dinner, my husband received a call informing him that his uncle had died in a car accident. Naturally, it was very upsetting. I wanted to be there for Dude. I wanted to offer as much comfort as I could. We put the girls to bed. Dude washed the dishes and went to bed. I stayed up and watched tv, falling asleep in the family room and waking up at 3am. I started to do the usual routine of taking Belly out of my bed (she goes in there sometime around midnight every single night) and putting her back in her own. I then climb in between her and her sister and Dude gets our bed all to himself. That night, though, I thought Dude needed my snuggles more than the girls, so I slipped in next to him. The miracle was that neither girl woke up until 7am, at which time the Bug bounded in demanding to know what was going on - "Why are you in this bed??" The very, very unfortunate turn of events was that neither Dude nor I could sleep. It was fairly uncomfortable sleeping in our bed together. He was hot next to me. And I guess I was a hot lump next to him, too. We're not used to it anymore. There was once a time when I couldn't sleep if he wasn't lying next to me. Now? Forget it. I need two girls who toss and turn throughout the night or no one. What a difference four years make, huh? Dude said it was a nice idea, but maybe next time we try it, we should wait for a weekend when he doesn't have to work the next day. Sigh. This whole situation honestly has me thinking, "What the fuck?"

A new year, a new boyfriend, and some Little House on the Prairie

Whelp, lemme tell you that NYE was perfectly fine. Dude and I got some amazing Indian takeout, opened yummy wine, made a fire, put a Muse station on Pandora and talked well past midnight. It wasn't a wild dance party, but it certainly wasn't boring either. Sometimes it feels like we get so bogged down in parenting (and bills and chores but especially parenting) that we lose track of each other. It's such a challenge to balance (his) work time, family time, alone time and couple time. There's just not enough time in the day. Or sometimes the week. Or - I hate to admit this, but it's true - the month. I'm not talking physical intimacy here, but bonding, engaging couple time wherein we're not discussing Belly and Buggy the whole time. New Year's Eve found the two of us having just that kind of special time - and both acknowledging that we need to find more of it. So, I'm taking a boyfriend in 2010. And that boyfriend is Dude.

And with that, we had a date on Saturday night! Bri babysat and we went to HUB for dinner, followed by bowling at Grand Central Bowl. SO fun! I think I've bowled exactly twice (counting last night) in the last 12 or 13 years. It's really an activity that requires alcohol. The more I drink, the better I am. We played two games with pretty pathetic scores - the first he won 85-83 and the second I won 111-100. I think with another vanilla vodka and coke and one more game, I may have broken 150. I might also have puked.

So complete non sequitor...

I have two Little House on the Prairie tidbits for you. The first is from McSweeney's and I thought it was hilarious!

The second is a beautiful set of LHOTP coasters that Erika made for me for Christmas. Check it:

Aren't they fantastic? I love them!!

Part 1: Christmas recap and Part 2: The Horror

Part 1: Christmas recap

Hi Friends. We got home from our whirlwind Christmas vacation just a few short hours ago. We went to my sister Molly's house just outside of Little Rock, AR and a super swell time was had by all. For reals. It was beyond wonderful to see that side of my family and to show off Belly and the Bug. Plus I got to meet my little niece who was named after me (I can hardly believe she's 18 months old and this was the first time I'd met her in-person). We had tons of good food and drink (a constant with my family), lots of game-playing (another constant), and overall Christmas Happiness. Top that off with no drama and it was pretty damn near perfect! Except for one thing...

Part 2: The Horror

Erika and Molly and I thought it would be fun to leave the kids with the husbands and have a "sisters afternoon" - go to a movie, get pedicures, maybe do a little shopping. Molly and I both have little kids, so these particular activities are sadly lacking from our lives on any sort of consistent basis. We saw "Up in the Air" and I loved it. I laughed. I thought I might cry at one point. I truly loved it. Then we went for pedicures. I picked out a lovely shade of almost-black-purple and was all set. As they were leading me to the chair, I asked if I could also get a brow wax (this place was a salon and they clearly offered waxing services). The woman said yes and suggested she do that first. Great! I followed her into the waxing room. I told her "not too thin, please" and put my head back on the pillow. She leaned over me. "Hmmm. Do you want a lip wax, too?" Uh, okay. Sure. Clearly there was a need. And with that, she went to work. It seemed like she was taking a lot off the eyebrows but you know what? It feels like that EVERY time I get waxed. Then she did the upper lip. Then she went back to the brows to do some tweezing. She didn't put anything on the upper lip to calm it down while she did that and I could feel the region tingling in a not-good way. Finally she put some calming oil everywhere and gave me a hand mirror. What Had She Done To My Face? No really. What the friggledy-frug did she think "not too thin, please" meant?!?! Had she gone any thinner, my brows would've been completely gone and needed to be drawn on. I was stunned, horrified, at a total loss for words. We walked out to the pedicure chairs where I freaked as quietly as possible - texting Erika in the chair next to me and trying not to cry. Erika assured me that yes, they were thin but not weird-looking. She had to say that, though. It was pretty obvious that I was on the verge of losing my shit. I could not enjoy my pedicure. It was finally all over and we left. Erika informed me that she had been cut by the cuticle scissors and the nail tech had tried to hide it by putting her foot in the water. What?! Molly came out unscathed but will not be returning to that particular establishment. UGH.

That was yesterday. Today I think the eyebrows are way too thin but no, not totally bizarre - just strange on MY face. I look forward to them growing back in. Additionally, my upper lip has decided to take 24 hours to totally break out. Yep - Dude actually asked me when we got home this evening if I was having an allergic reaction to something. And when I said that it was just further trauma from the waxing yesterday, he asked incredulously, "You got your lip waxed?! I didn't know you did that!" He looked at me like I had just told him I have a giant walrus mustache that I shave every day. This just keeps getting better and better...

Thankful

I have 90 other things I'm supposed to be doing right now: clearing the dishes off the table, folding laundry, cleaning up the kid debris that is all over the floor, making caramelized onion dip, baking pecan pies. And I will do all those things in the next two hours, but first I'm having a teensy glass of wine and writing this here post. Erika, Billy and D will be here in about two hours. Sissy is bringing them from the airport and I think Bri is coming over as well. I want the house to look good, blah, blah. But this is my last 10 minutes of quiet before the holiday officially begins.

I used to be better about the holidays. I absolutely love getting together with everyone and eating and playing games. It's the best! But as I get older, I'm finding that I have less patience for avoidable chaos. I have a harder time just going with it. Maybe it's an age thing or maybe it's because I've got two kids who thrive on structure that has made me way more structured than I ever was before. Whatever it is, I fear I'm getting a little uptight. So I'm focusing on being as easy going as I can be this holiday week. Everyone will have their own plans and agendas and I'm going to do my best to go with the flow. I am going to endeavor to only lay down the law when it comes to my girls and nap times and bed times and stuff like that. Because, my peeps, I need to get over the little things and give thanks for all the things this holiday is bringing my way.

I am fortunate enough to have multitudes of things for which to be thankful, so I'm only going to highlight a few (as I said, there's pie to bake!). And with that, I'm thankful for pie. I am beyond thankful for my tremendous family. We're something of a motley crew (as opposed to Motley Crue - I shared a wink with Tommy Lee once, but he is decidedly not in my family) and I really wouldn't have it any other way. I am thankful that I don't have to work right now and get to spend so much time with my growing daughters. I am thankful that we always have enough food - and it's good, organic stuff. I am thankful we have the Charmer to provide us shelter and warmth. I am thankful for all of my friends (who really fall in that motley family category). And I am thankful to have health insurance, a reliable vehicle, and my Wusthof knives. And also? I'm thankful for you, Internet Friends. I can't tell you how nice it is to have something - this here blog - that is mine all mine. I like writing it. I like hearing from you. It's an entirely good thing. There. Okay. I gotta go. I just heard the dryer stop.

Chri$tma$

I bought our plane tickets to Arkansas for Christmas. $800 each for four tickets. If you can do simple math, then you know that I just spent $3200 to go to ARKANSAS from OREGON. Just for fun - and because we had talked about going there in 2010 - I priced flying to Germany for 10 days in March. They were only $80 more per ticket. Needless to say, we will not be able to do both Arkansas and Germany in the next year, so Arkansas it is. It hurts, people. It hurts. And don't get me started on the fact that those tickets were the cheapest I could find, they're on Southwest Airlines, and we have two stops in each direction.

BUT... I'm excited to be going. I can't wait to see my dad and stepmom, my sister Molly, her husband Stan and my two nieces, ages 4 and 18 months. Plus Erika, Billy and D are going to be there. Fun! Molly and I have already bought coordinating Christmas jammies for the little girls so we can take unbelievably cute/tacky pictures of them together (consider that your notice that I will be posting these unbelievably cute/tacky pictures after the holidays).

Thinking of Christmas, however, invariably leads me to think about purchasing gifts for everybody. It's a pretty huge and pricey undertaking. In my family, everybody gets everybody else a gift (couple gifts are acceptable, though). Dude and his sibs stopped exchanging gifts a few years ago. Now we just buy gifts for each other's kids. But even so, there are twenty-one family members for whom I need to purchase gifts. This does not include Dude, Belly and Buggy. Let's say that I spend $25 per person, that's $525 + Dude + my kids = more than I can afford. SERIOUSLY. How did the holidays get so effing expensive? My family (the side that is my mom and her kids) is considering starting a new tradition next year wherein we each purchase one cool gift that anyone would be happy to have and then play a game to dole out the gifts. I'm assuming we'll still do gifts for all the kids, but this seems like an extremely reasonable solution to the high cost of adult gift giving. Anyone have other suggestions? Keep in mind that my family's Christmas is all about food and family (meaning, no religious activities or observances involved that would take the place of tearing open a mountain of gifts in about 8.7 seconds flat).

Fall is my kind of bitch

This cracked me up so much that I'm posting it here. It's a status update and comments from Facebook (names have been replaced by initials to protect the guilty):

----

ES: FALL! It's here!

Comments:

RH: It suuuuure is.

ES: I'm in love with this weather. I want to roll around in it.

DW: I want to take it behind the middle school and get it pregnant.

ES: I want to eat it with a spoon. I want to rub it in my hair. I want to carry it around in my pocket. Seriously. It's a freaking perfect day.

ES: Exactly, DW! Me, too!

RH: Jeez - slow down, peeps. I like Fall, but I'm not looking for any kind of long-term relationship. C'mon...she ain't Summer.

ES: Fall has LTR written all over it; I'm never going to take it for granted or grow bored and start looking around at other seasons. This is it. The real thing.

JL: Like you've never looked at spring and thought, "damn, I'd like to rip me off a piece of that." Please.

ES: I do love a little spring after a long, cold winter, now that you mention it. But fall... TLA. BFF 4eva.

CE: I'm with JL. Fall's worth a couple lap dances maybe, but spring's the girl you buy a new car for just hoping you make it to the Champagne Room.

ES: You Oregon people are so desperate for sun after 5 months of rain that spring seems like an answered prayer. I've been there. I get it. Tennessee fall is pretty spectacular, though. It lasts and lasts.

KH: I 2nd that - fall is fantastic in TN.

JL: Yeah, Fall's great until you wake up one morning and discover she's gone and so are all your dvd's and favorite concert t's. You get sucked in every year.

----

Hahahaha! Funny.

I might puke

Way back in spring of 1998, Erika, Jonas and I went on vacation together to Hawaii. It was the first time we'd ever done something together as adults and we had a really, really awesome time. Erika lived in Arkansas, Jonas was here in Oregon and I lived in LA. Erika flew in to LA to spend the night with me before we both left together the next day for our trip. I was so excited for this vacation and Erika arriving that, well, I puked right before I left for the airport to get her. That quickly became the measuring stick for excitement in our family. One can claim to be excited, but unless there's some up-chucking involved, how much anticipation is there really?

I'm feeling awfully close to pukey over getting the Charmer. PLUS Erika gets here Wednesday for a long weekend (Bri's college graduation is this weekend!). Come Wednesday night, I might seriously need someone to hold my hair.

PURA VIDA!

In case you don't know already, pura vida is Costa Rica's official slogan. It literally means "pure life" but down there it also means "hi," "bye," "stay cool," and "hells yeah!" It's sort of at the heart of their laid-back way. I wish it was the slogan for our country. People would be a lot more chill. I like chill. Heck - I love chill.

Our trip was pretty damn great. It was jam-packed with action, adventure, good food, family, hammocks. I wish there was a highlight reel and I could just cue the video. Since there's not, here's a list of highlights and lowlights (points of interest, I suppose) from our 9-day trip to Costa Rica. These are in no particular order...

Let's start with the snake! Um, I pretty much have a snake phobia. I am, quite literally, terrified of them. Even seeing them behind glass at the zoo makes me feel like I might have a panic attack. Now I know that there are all kinds of snakes, including very poisonous ones, in Costa Rica. This was my third trip there, though, and I'd never seen one. I really wasn't worried about it. Billy - Erika's husband - shares my horror of all things snake and WAS worried about it. I kept reassuring him that he was going on over nothing. WEEELLLLLL....we were on a little jungle hike on our land - not hacking our way through the jungle but on a path that my brother, Jonas, keeps maintained. Jonas was leading the way, followed by his six-year-old step-daughter, Billy, me with Belly in a sling, Erika and Dude with the Bug in a sling. There are so many amazing things to see in the jungle - everything grows on everything else and the flowers are S-T-U-N-N-I-N-G and exotic and it feels like happy paradise. Erika wanted Billy to take a picture of her in front of a cool tree so she leaned against it while he backed up to get the shot. All of a sudden, Erika started barking commands in a crisp, tight, incredibly authoritative tone of voice. "Everybody stop. Billy - go by Rachael right now. And Rachael - move further down the path. Lily - stay far away. Dude - don't come any closer. In fact, back up a ways. There is a snake RIGHT THERE." We all looked. There was an effing terciopelo (also called a fer-de-lance) about two feet behind where Billy was standing to take the picture of Erika. Here's the link to Wikipedia, but lemme tell you, it's a pit-viper. It is known to be aggressive. It can shoot its venom up to six feet. One has three hours to get to the anti-venom before all hell breaks loose and your limbs start crumbling off (not really - but close - look at that picture on Wikipedia). This snake is basically the one that I had hoped to avoid. And there it was, all coiled up and looking at us. I would've fainted, but that would've meant that me and my baby were on the ground with the snake. Ultimately, the snake did nothing and we all moved on down the path. Jonas would've killed it with his machete, but we were all focused on just getting AWAY from it - plus it was in the jungle, not near the house. Ugh. Oh, and Erika kept getting closer and closer to it trying to get a good picture. She's nuts. She never did get a clear picture, but this one's close enough.

We flew from Portland to Dallas (where we met up with Erika and Billy) to San Jose, Costa Rica, then spent the night at a cool little B&B before driving the 4 hours or so to the farm the next day. Here's a picture of Dude and Belly at that B&B. It's one of my new favorite pics.

When we turned onto the dirt road (from the gravel road) that leads to the path that leads to our farm (you have to walk in about 15 minutes), there was a sloth hanging from an elevated water line. The animal was abuzz with flies and even had a spider hanging off of it. Check it out, yo.

Here's just a funny photo that Erika took near San Jose. Apparently, Jesus personally helps guide this surgeon's hand. Hmmm. I wonder if he does tummy tucks.

Anyway, back to our adventures. Jonas is almost done building our "communal house." Eventually, we'll have our own "cabina" that has a couple bedrooms, a hang-out area and maybe a deck or something. We'll use the communal house for the kitchen and more hang-out-ability. Here's the outside of the house.

And some views from the house at sunset...

We spent a day down at the ocean. The Pacific has never felt so warm. Jonas and his family schooled me on all the different kinds of waves that come in and how to handle them. There are Swimmers, Floaters, Surprisers, Butt Breakers and Brain Suckers. There might be more, but that's what I remember. Jonas cut open cocos for us and we drank the sweet, watery milk. We frolicked. We gathered shells. We got a little sunburned. It was pretty perfect. Here are a few pics of Playa Ventanas.

Then the day took a turn for the worse when some cops came to the beach and said that Erika and Billy's rental truck had been broken into. The "stealers" (as my nephew called them) dropped a huge rock through the back passenger window and took the bag with my sister's knitting (a blanket for Belly!) and her almost-finished-really-good book. So lame.

Things looked up again, though, when we left the beach and drove up the road to a hidden waterfall to rinse off the salt water. It was COLD but lovely after a hot day at the beach with its bathwater waves.

I cut down a rack of bananas on the farm! With a machete! I felt kind of like a warrior. Seeing the pictures, though, I look like a gringa taking a few whacks for a photo op. Maybe someday I'll fit in a little better down there.

There's so much more to tell, but this post is getting ridiculously ginormous. It was super great to hang out with Jonas and the family - his kids, Zia and Mikah; his fiance, Judy; and her daughter, Lily. I miss them so much when they're down there and I'm grateful that my kids got to spend a lot of time with their cousins. Here are some pictures of that gorgeous family...

My nephew, Mikah:

My niece, Zia:

Zia & Mikah together:

My "new" niece, Lily:

My bro, Jonas:

My sister-in-law, Judy (whom I think looks like a young Isabella Rossellini):

Plus here are Erika & Billy:

Me with my vacation babies - The Bug & Belly (I can't find a good one of just the two of them):

And last but not least, me with my Dude and girls (on the jungle hike about 10 minutes before we saw the snake - girls were SOUND asleep):

Pura Vida, peeps! Pura Vida.

**And thanks, Erika, for taking so many great pictures!

An appropriate title for this post simply doesn't exist

We got back from Costa Rica last night and I will certainly do some extensive blogging on our trip, but I need to relay some bad news. About half an hour after we got back to Portland, Erika told me that D had received a call from Cyan's mom. Cyan had come to a point where her parents had to make the decision to "let her go." And so, it is with much sadness that I write this: Cyan passed away yesterday.

I know that there were people literally all over the world praying for her and keeping her in their thoughts. I really want to believe in the power of prayer but why doesn't it work every time it is so thoroughly deserved? It's not fair and damn it - I want fucking fair. I positively ache for Cyan's family and friends. Eleven and a half years ago, one of my sisters died in a car accident. It was sudden and final and there was no up and down and holding out hope. It was and still is devastating. Cyan's situation was different in that her family had hope. But is that worse? To believe with all you've got that there will be a happy ending to this trauma and then the worst happens? I think it might be.

I just...I just don't know what else to say. It's too sad; too unfair.

I believe the technical sound is "lubb-dub"

As in, lubb-dub lubb-dub lubb-dub lubb-dub - the sound of a beating heart. Just like Cyan's new one! Her new heart is pumping away and she has been moved into a recovery room. Keep the good thoughts flowing that everything stays strong and that internal damage was minimal from the rejection of the last one. One incredible hurdle down...not sure how many to go but what a heck of a good start!

HEART!!

Erika just emailed me that Cyan has two potential hearts on the way. They've scheduled her surgery for 6pm today. PLEASE send Cyan all the positive energy you can today. This is really it. Oh God.

A big heavy day

I've started and stopped and edited this post about six times so far today. It has been...a day. A week. A month. I'm ready for things to chill out. Last night, I felt like I was going to implode with everything going on but today has been more calm - mostly because there are things I can control and things that I definitely cannot. I'm old enough to know that shitty things happen and I have no choice but to deal with it all. I also know that things that suck ass now sometimes work out for the best in the end. And sometimes things just suck ass. Here's what I've got going on (in no particular order)...

I had a post-op checkup with the oral surgeon today because, well, I still can't feel half of my chin. He believes it's temporary nerve damage but it could go on for as long as two months. I'm going back next Wednesday afternoon for him to check it again. He packed my sockets with clove eugenia (is that redundant?) which helped with some of the pain, but everything is still pretty sore - except, of course, my chin. I can't take the Percocet during the day because that could impair my parenting ability, so I'm only taking ibuprofen for the pain. And I have McCainian jowls - especially on the left side. It's pretty sweet.

I called to schedule the developmental evaluation that Belly's pediatrician recommended yesterday. There was a little confusion when I called, though, and I was bounced between a few people. I started getting the distinct impression that this evaluation was for behavioral concerns, not motor skills as I had been led to believe. After ultimately leaving a voicemail for someone that was supposed to be the person that could help me, I was overcome with a flash flood of worry. I got a call back a couple hours later and it is because of the walking not something else. Now I can go back to just worrying about it like I was before I started making calls.

My mom has had a lump on her collar bone for several weeks now and has done nothing about it. I felt it the other night and it was pretty solid, yet still kind of malleable. I made her call her doctor and schedule an appointment for this morning to get it looked at. Two of my siblings have had Hodgkins lymphoma so we tend to freak pretty hard core when lumps start showing up. I did my best to stay calm but it made me absolutely insane that I couldn't go with her this morning. Her doctor was worried. She sent Mom to get an ultrasound, after which Mom was to discuss next steps with the radiologist. Just in case, the doctor scheduled a CT scan for later this afternoon and a biopsy for tomorrow morning. Great. THAT sounded like no cause for alarm. So Mom had the ultrasound and the radiologist determined that the lump is just muscle mass. Basically, Mom is in desperate need of a massage. Thank effing God. I had already hatched the entire plan of how Mom was going to move in with us, I'd take care of her, etc. I hadn't quite figured out how I was going to run the B&B from Portland, though.

The Charmer. The sellers, whom I believe I've mentioned are completely insane, decided to go out of town for the weekend and think about things, informing our realtor that we'd hear back from them on Monday. What's the effing point in being like that?? It's not our fault the house didn't appraise. We should now be a united team trying to get this transaction done. We can always buy a different house. They're stuck with a house that appraises for less than they want to sell it. I just don't get them. The stress around this deal is two-fold: 1) I want this house and I will be seriously, seriously bummed if we don't get it (although, at this point, we've done everything within our power to make it happen); and 2) I need for the whole thing to not eff up my Costa Rican vacation plans. I need that damn vacation. And if the combination of both one and two were to happen, I might go postal on the seller. I'm so not kidding.

So my stress levels are awfully high today. But then I think about Cyan and it all seems petty and totally manageable. Erika emailed me this morning with a clearer picture of what's happening with Cyan. The head of the PICU at the hospital where she is says, "Things are not going well. I can’t say much due to privacy issues but a huge miracle is needed and lots of prayers for her and her family." Cyan definitely needs a new heart and has been alive only because of life support. They do not and will not know the extent of the damage to her other organs and her brain until she has a new heart. I simply cannot fathom what her family is going through. This constant straddling of the line of life and death seems so drawn out and immeasurably torturous. My niece, D, is obviously quite upset as she watches one of her best friends hover in limbo. She told me that she cried at school today. Ugh. I wish there was something I could do for SOMEONE involved in this terrible thing. I hate feeling so helpless.

This is not a pleasant post. No. No, it is not. Let me end it, though, with a beautiful poem that D wrote today entitled Continuous Infusion: Cyan.

You were born with a broken heart

but it won't be hard to fix

Butterfly wings will rip through the back of your arms

and a tree will sprout from between your lips

I'll send an envelope embossed with silver

And in return you can send me a swarm of bees

You were born with a broken heart

but it won't be hard to fix

I'll connect myself to you with a tube

And a series of memories linked like a chain

I'll send a continuous infusion straight from my heart

Blood transfusion full of love and music and a waiting glass house:

Everything you'll need to survive this

Teeth, toddlers, Cyan

Alright, so I'm definitely more sore than yesterday. The left side of my jaw is swelling more and I can't open my mouth any more than necessary to gingerly slide a spoon in. I think the worst part is that I can feel these sutures in the back of my mouth and I know they're not, but they feel like they're dangling out in my mouth. I want them to hurry up and dissolve already! Plus, my chin is still numb. As in, I could probably have it pierced right now and not feel it. Not that I would. I don't like chin piercings, but that's not the point. The point is that it's weird to not be able to feel one's chin. Also, it hurts to laugh - too much cheek movement. Ugh. I'm whiney. I will be honest, though, and say that it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Tomorrow may be worse. We'll see.

Also, the girls had their eighteen-month checkup this afternoon. There were shots involved - four each. Not good. Buggy actually held in her little tears of agony until the third shot. She was such a brave little kid. She was extremely patient the whole time the doctor examined her and even offered up her ears and mouth and everything to be checked as the doctor needed it. Everyone - including the doctor - was duly impressed. Belly was the complete opposite. She screamed starting when the doctor tried to listen to her chest and continued pretty much through the shots. It was a ton o'fun.

They've each only gained a pound and an inch since their last checkup two months ago. But the doctor said she wasn't worried about the low weight gain because they're active and haven't felt well this past month. And just as I suspected, the doctor has ordered a developmental evaluation for my little Belly. She said she's not concerned about any Autism or anything like that (YES!), but it would be good to get her checked out since she's slow with the motor skills. I suppose I shouldn't be worried about it, but I am. I'm the Mom. It's what I do.

Speaking of worry, Cyan has been stable, but is back on the list for another heart. I'm not 100% sure, but I think they've been forcing this heart to work for her via machine because her mom said "they may restart this heart in a day or two and see how it's looking." She also said the "doctors are feeling a little more optimistic." I guess that really puts my whining about teeth and worrying about Belly in perspective, huh? Things could be much worse here.

A promised Cyan update

Since my last update said that I'd know more today, I'm posting. Going forward, I will only post when there is substantial news. Things are still very much in flux with Cyan. She had further exploratory surgery, a big complication, possible damage to other internal organs, but the bleeding in her chest has stopped. Her mother says they have "guarded optimism." Keep her in your thoughts and prayers, please. Sigh. This is rough.

Update on Cyan

I've had some emails asking, so here is an update on Cyan. Erika told me earlier today that she is sedated and we probably won't know anything more until Monday. Please keep Cyan in your thoughts, people. She's still in the thick of things.

Cyan

My 15-year-old niece has a good friend named Cyan whom I have never met but have been thinking about on a pretty consistent basis for the last week. Cyan has been in the hospital for more than a month because her heart has been wearing out. I guess she was born with some sort of condition and they've been expecting this for the last fifteen years. The only thing that would fix the situation would be a new heart. After 4 or 5 possible hearts that weren't quite right, one became available for Cyan a week ago that was right and she underwent a 10-hour surgery.

Let's stop here for a minute. Can you imagine the joy at being told that a heart is on its way? And the sheer terror her parents experienced knowing that going into that surgery might be the last time they see her alive? I can't. I just can't. It seems unbearable. Back to the story...

The surgery was a resounding success. Cyan's new heart has been beating solidly in her chest. She's been healing quickly and as of Tuesday, has been IV-free and preparing to go home to finish recovering there (much less risk of infection than in the hospital). That was the last update that I got from my niece this afternoon. Plus she read me a beautiful poem that she'd written that was inspired by this whole ordeal.

I just got home from going out for a quick dinner with Dude and the girls and there's an email from Erika saying that Cyan is now back in the ICU and showing signs of rejecting her heart. And my niece posted on Facebook that Cyan had a heart attack. I've been crying and praying as my own heart now hurts.

If asked, I would say that I'm not religious, but I'm not sure that's exactly right. I guess I'm more spiritual, but that sounds hippie-dippie and not accurate either. I suppose I'm somewhere in between. Regardless of classification, I believe in God and I've been begging "him" to save that girl. Save Cyan. Save. Her.

Survivalist

I'm not really sure how I feel about this whole swine flu thing. I mean, I'm opposed to it for sure - nothing good ever came of mutant viruses. That's not the issue. It's preparing for the pandemic that has me feeling all wishy-washy. Is this going to be the kind of thing where everyone goes into a tailspin, panicking to get stocked up on toothpaste and duct tape for nothing? You know, like Y2K? Or are we truly on the verge of a global pandemic? It's pretty hard to tell.

Erika (my older sister - and that is the last time I will describe her relationship to me since I do it EVERY time) went to Costco today to prepare for the coming apocalypse. When they didn't have everything she needed, she went to Walmart. She called me between stores and I totally made fun of her and her survivalist ways. There is one reported case in the metropolitan area where she lives - a student at some private school. That school is closed, but the public schools are still open and everyone else seems to be just fine. When she got to Walmart, the greeters were wearing face masks. The greeters at Walmart! Face masks! And then, as if to prove that I'm a cavalier bitch who is risking my family members' lives by not stocking up on hand sanitizer and anti-diarrheal medicine, Walmart was sold out of face masks. I was stunned.

So, today was one of those glorious spring days where you can taste summer just around the corner. This afternoon, the girls and I walked to Fred Meyer to deposit our rent check at the WaMu inside. I had Erika forward me the CDC's list of supplies so that I could pick some up while I was there. I mean, if the greeters at Walmart in middle America are wearing face masks, I should at least look at the list. Below is a picture of Erika's cache of supplies:

Take note of the multi-pack of Lysol spray, the 25-pound bag of cat food, the granola bars, the basic medicines, the laundry soap, the toilet paper, the case of Cup o'Noodles. I also happen to know there's a case of canned tuna in there. Plus she bought fifteen gallons of water. Erika is not messing around. By contrast, let's now look at my bounty:

Somehow I didn't do as well. These little sandals are a perfect match for the girls' new swimsuits, though.

A stickler for the rules

I never followed blogs until last summer when a friend of mine recommended one that she thought I would like. Like? I loved! And then I stumbled across another one that piqued my interest. And another. And another. I probably follow about fifteen blogs regularly now - mostly personal/mommy and cooking blogs. Regardless of genre, there is a common thread between all of them: Near perfect use of grammar and punctuation. I like witty, too. But let's get back to that first point. Having worked in many a professional setting, it has never ceased to amaze me how many people have very little grasp of the proper usage of the English language. They can't spell. They can't use a semicolon correctly (much less a dash). They can't make subjects and verbs agree. They've never seen a thesaurus. And the thing that REALLY gets my goat? THEY DON'T CARE! They assume people won't notice or won't care or something. I'm not talking about the lower echelons of the corporate ladder, either - I mean real honest-to-goodness corporate executives. It's astounding. And it automatically has the effect of making me lose respect for them. I will not hesitate to judge people solely on their writing skills. Remember that, Facebook friends.

I pause to point out that I know I am not perfect. I am close, but not quite there. I judge when poor grammar and punctuation skills are the standard modus operandi, not the occasional slip.

But I digress. I'm impressed with the number of quality writers in Blogland. Don't get me wrong - I've seen some that are so terrible, they just have to be made up (which makes them strangely compelling in their own way). But there are some solid writers out there and I find it refreshing. I don't really think I'm snobby about this so much as incredibly nerdy. Maybe a little bitchy...

Speaking of nerdy, my sister Erika has made THE COOLEST set of Little House on the Prairie découpaged coasters. She also made a set using the reproductive organ chapter from a medical encyclopedia. I can't even explain how awesome they are. Erika is my current craft hero. I can't wait for the girls to get older so I can do crafty things again. Right now I get my craft fix by salivating over Etsy. I have about seventy items flagged as favorites and I sigh audibly when I sign on and see that one of them has been sold. Anyway, Erika is going to open an Etsy storefront and I'm trying to help her think of a name. We like the idea of incorporating the word "library" - library craft, art library. Those are sucky suggestions, but you see what I mean, right? Any suggestions?

I'm such a cry eye

Last night I cleaned the fridge. I mean, like, emptying the fridge in preparation for the move and it was B-A-D. I knew this day was coming so I'd put off cleaning it for awhile. Ugh. I don't even want to think about the stench that came out of some of that tupperware when I popped open their tightly sealed lids. I kept cursing under my breath that I'd be happy when we were all moved and this nonsense was done.

But here I sit tonight - the last night in the house before it's all packed up - and I'm very, very sad. I love this little house! I keep getting weepy when I think about all that has happened here in the last five years. It has been a wonderful home for us and it is just teeming with warm memories. Here are a couple that I'm savoring at the moment...

That first summer we were here - 2004 - Dude would come home from work, toss his bag in the house and, before he changed even, would check on "his" tomato plants beside the house. I had never seen him care about something like that with such passion. This is the guy that is totally anti-pet and took YEARS to come around to wanting children. It even made our holiday letter that year that Dude had taken a "parental interest" in those tomatoes. Ironically, I don't remember actually eating any of the tomatoes that MUST have resulted from his tender loving care.

The kitchen in this house is miniscule. I'm so not kidding. It is the smallest kitchen I've ever seen in a house and was, by far, the biggest drawback to our purchasing it. Regardless, I've cranked out some pretty impressive meals here. One that stands out as amazingly superb was Thanksgiving 2006 - the one when my older sister and her husband came to visit. We made duck breasts with a cherry port reduction, pesto mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, horseradish creamed spinach, dressing (cooked in a muffin tin so that there was a higher ratio of crunchy outside to soft inside than is found in a regular casserole dish), rolls (the most delicious dinner rolls ever) and stewed orange cranberries. We also made pecan pie and a pumpkin cake with an ornate mandarin-orange-and-pomegranate design on the top.

October 25, 2007: I was almost 33 weeks pregnant, working from home that day and on a business call with an attorney who was giving me a thorough recounting of an important conversation with my boss. As I stood at the bottom of the stairs - GUSH! - my water broke. I wasn't sure if it was gross to say my water had just broken or if I should just try to end the conversation quickly without mentioning that I was standing in a puddle and my sweatpants were glued to my legs. I guess I wasn't thinking very clearly because I opted for the latter. It took me a good two minutes to get off the phone. Dude was also on his phone in the kitchen conducting a conference call. I said, "Honey!" He ignored me. "Honey!" Still nothing. "DUDE!!!" His head popped around the corner with a look on his face that clearly said, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Me: "I'm pretty sure my water just broke."
Him: "Guys. I've gotta go." And he promptly hung up.
Thus began our adventure as parents.

I could go on and on but I won't. Suffice it to say that this little house has been good to us and I'll miss her.

Belly and The Bug