Lyn

My Personal Lemonade Stand

2011-05-31T16:33:00.000-07:00

Since Monday was a holiday, I chose to take the rest of the week off as vacation days. Ryan and I could not recall the last time that I had taken a day off of work that wasn't for some medical emergency or another. A nice long week off sounded like a great idea. It has been a long time since I took a vacation day that wasn't intended for a trip to the Cleveland Clinic, a Dr. Appointment, a visit to the ER, etc. So here we are, having our "Stay-Cation".

Today, after picking Leah up from school, I started doing some yard work at home. My intent was to clean up this one embarrassingly jungle-like part of our yard that butts up against the neighbor's property. It really was quite bad. I always forget that part of the yard since it is out of sight (and out of mind) and end up needing a machete to get a handle on it. This season was no different.

Anyway...what started out as a one hour job ( since I do NOT intend to use my vacation time working my arse off!) turned into an all-day marathon of back-breaking but also very enjoyable yard work (I have come to realize that gardening and weeding are an excellent outlet for my control-freak nature...a few hours of perceived control over those plants (despite the fact that I can actually hear the dandelions taunting me and spewing their fuzzy seeds all over the place in an evil plan to rule the world) can be quite calming).

Before I had started the work, Ryan had told me and Leah to be sure that we stayed "hydrated". As soon as Leah heard this, she was on it and at the first moment the lawnmower turned off, she was standing on the deck shouting (threw a miniature traffic cone/megaphone) "Lyn Stadler! Please come over hear for your hydrating!"

I followed the sound of her voice and found her on the deck tending to what she called the "Sweet Heart Cafe". She had about 37 glasses, dishes, cups, bottles, and various liquids distributed and displayed on top of a cooler, complete with a water bottle stuffed with wild flowers we'd picked together in the yard. She met me at the gate and escorted me to my table and took my order. She then turned to her mad science kitchen and whipped me up a beverage that, as far as I can tell, was about 1 part Snapple, 3 parts water, 2 parts various debris and 94% dog hair. It was, of course, the best drink I'd ever had!

And so this continued all day from about noon until 4:30 pm. I worked until the sun and sweat got the best of me, sit at my table at the cafe, have a drink and enjoy the shade and a cool breeze, and then get back to work. Each time I returned to Sweet Heart Cafe, a new hostess/waitress had come to work and I would learn about her name, her children and her life....I made quite a few new friends.

There was Lena...46 year old mother of Jake and Joshua who were 59 and 9, respectively. There was Haley, a young mother-to-be. (Actually, there were quite a few pregnant ladies....a friend of ours told us today that she was expecting).

It was really nice to find a way to get some work done and get to hang out with my little girl and her creativity. I recommend this method for anyone who can...it made the yard work a LOT easier!

"Stone School"

2011-04-26T09:42:00.000-07:00

Ryan grew up as the youngest of 7 siblings (5 girls, 2 boys). The closest sibling in age to him was his sister Claudia, who is 13 years older. I often hear stories about their childhood and wonder at the difference between what it must have been like for him to grow up versus myself, with only 1 sister. There are a variety of theories out there. Many say that Ryan grew up more like an only child, since most of the siblings were already out of the house when he came a long. I often remark that it seems like Ryan has 6 mothers instead of one mother and 5 sisters. But it all seemed so different and almost alien to me until this Easter, when I witnessed first hand how it might have been.

Leah is the youngest cousin in the family. In the Stadler clan, the next oldest cousin to her is Katie, who is 14. Being the youngest, and the cutest (well, at least in my opinion), she often becomes the center of attention and manages to win over even the most stern older cousins.

For example, on Easter Sunday, Leah made the rounds of the living room and dining room at Grandma's house, where many of the family had come to celebrate together, looking for willing participants for "Stone School". This is a game that Ryan and his siblings grew up playing. The premise is simple, yet surprisingly well received by even the most curious kid. You pick one "teacher" and then gather as many "students" as you can. The "students" each sit at the bottom of the stairs, or "kindergarten" and with each successfully answered question, they move up one step to the next "grade". The first person to "graduate" wins.

I had never heard of this until joining Ryan's family...actually not even until Leah was a couple of years old and one day she asked me to play and I had no idea what she was talking about. Seems her Aunt Linda (aka: Leah's Be-All, Do-All, 100% Leah-Attentive Aunt) had taught her how to play Stone School and Leah became an instant fan. Luckily for Leah, Aunt Linda has MUCH more patience than I do and seems content to play the game (or do anything else Leah wants) over and over and over...ad nauseum. I, on the otherhand, will find myself impatiently checking my watch by the time I've made it to "third grade."

Anyway...on Easter, Leah had managed to corral two students. Her 16 year old cousin, Kevin (who, like Aunt Linda, seems to have an un-ending vat of attention to spend on Leah) and her 27 year-old cousin, Casey. Despite the fact that Casey was the obvious favorite (Leah has always thought he was the coolest guy in the room), Leah managed to keep he and Kevin in close competition....depsite the fact that her questions were bit too easy!

As I watched her play, it occurred to me that, in some respescts, this must have been similar to the way it was for Ryan growing up...the youngest, cutest, and most active person in the room, with a sea of adults to watch, laugh, and love.

Although it is a different generation and we are talking about cousins and not siblings, it still seemed pretty neat to me that Leah has been blessed with so many wonderful family members even though she is, and will most likely remain, an only child.

I guess things have a way of working themselves out.

P.S....Consider yourself fore-warned. If you find yourself in a crowded room with Leah, you will most likely be asked "Do you want to play Stone School? It's REALLY REALLY REALLY FUN!"

Dr. Stadler...Paging Dr. Leah Stadler...

2011-04-13T10:11:00.000-07:00

Since high school, I have been plagued with horribly painful and exhausting bouts of sciatica...pain, tingling and burning sensation caused by injury or compression of the sciatic nerve. The pain can be so bad at times that I feel as if I might pass out. The good news is that these bouts have been temporary and usually last no more than a couple of weeks. Over the past few years, their frequency has also decreased. I have not had an issue since we moved to Buffalo more than 3 years ago.

Until now.

It started a couple of days ago. There was no particular event that triggered it. Which is typical for me. It could be triggered by simply bending over to pick up a pencil and WHAM! from out of nowhere this piercing pain stabs you in the back and stops you dead in your tracks. In a moment of that much pain, I would not be able to stand up straight even if someone had a gun to my head. This current bout has been no different, so off I limped to the chiropractor, hunched over like I'd just been kicked in the stomach.

It is funny the things people will say to you when you are in this condition "Oh no! What happened to you?!?!" The look of horror on their face does not seem justified by my answer "oh, just a pinched nerve"...based on the way I looked, I think they expect the reason for my mutilated state to be something more like "Oh, I just got hit by a tractor trailer...as soon as I get this eyeball put back in, I'll be good as new". It just doesn't seem possible that a person could be so deformed from something so simple as a nerve. But, the reality is that the pain is worse even than what I experienced while delivering Leah...only the bad part is that it doesn't go away....and I have yet to find a Dr that will give me an epidural without being pregnant. (Maybe I should check with Michael Jackson's doctor...seemed like he has the really good stuff.)

Anyway...you get the picture. So, here I am at the chiropractor's office telling the Dr all about my history and the pain, all the while cringing and shifting around in my seat to try to find a comfortable spot to no avail. After she assessed the situation, she began to examine me, and checked some of my joints and stuff. Then, without ANY warning, she laid her hands on my right hip (the one that has been the most painful)and punched down on it with all of her might. When she applies this pressure, the area of the table under me also drops down, to increase the chance of getting the spine back into the right orientation. There are no words that could accurately describe the pain I felt in that moment so let's just say this... If there had been a knife, gun or any other lethal weapon anywhere in my reach, the good Doctor would have been snuffed out...no questions asked. She did a few more Samurai moves on my back, the whole time with me crying like a baby and then let me get off the table. Amazingly enough, I felt SO MUCH BETTER! Nowhere near close to normal but better enough that I walked out of the office without a limp or a hunch.

When I got home, I explained every thing to Ryan and Leah. In the blink of an eye, she donned her Florence Nightingale Uniform. She told me to lay down, then covered me up, kissed my cheek and whispered "Don't Worry Mommy...I'll take care of you".

Just after the nap I decided I needed a hot bath so I planted my feet on the floor, braced myself, and began to stand up. The anticipation of the pain that might be coming laid a blanket of fear over me. She must have been able to sense how scared I was because she ran to me and said "MOMMY! Now, just wait a minute, stop moving...I am going to help you up." And proceeded to climb up on the couch and stand behind me. "You are OK now. I will help you get up. Go ahead!" As I stood, she placed her little hands on my lower back and gently pushed. She followed me all the way up the stairs and into the bathroom, supporting me all the way. I started the faucet in the tub and sat down to wait for the tub to fill. While I was waiting, Leah kept running out of the room and coming back in again with things hidden behind her back.

As i walked slowly to the tub, she said "Mommy, see how these leaves are shaped like hearts? (there is an ivy plant hanging in the bathroom) "well...I am going to give this one to you so you will always know I love you."

When I got to the tub, she had removed another 8 leaves from the plant (poor Mr. Ivy!), and laid them in a curvy line on the edge of the bathtub. She must have gone in and out of the bathroom a dozen times! When all was said and done, she had put a candle, the leaves, a dixie cup of water (which she filled and re-filled and stood and watched to make sure I drank every last drop of), my slippers, my pajamas and a towel. She held my hand while I climbed into the tub and then made sure I got seated before going away. She caressed my face with her hand and then leaned in and placed a teeny tiny kiss right on the tip of my nose. She said she would be back to help me out of the tub and started to walk away but stopped and turned around again to say "Call me if you need help. I am a doctor and that is what doctors are for!" (oh god...if only that were true!)

After the bath, she held the towel out for me the same way I do for her, and wrapped it around me and walked me to the "Sick Room". When we got to the door, she stopped me and said "Look at this picture mommy...this picture will remind you where you need to go in case you get lost". She had tape a picture of Ryan and I on the door...actually a hand drawing of the two of us that his sister, Pat, had re-created in colored pencil. One of my favorite pics of us, ever!

When I got inside the room, she let me get dressed and then came back to tuck me in. On the nightstand, she had placed some of the leaves and 2 teeny stuffed bears who, she told me, would keep me company if I woke up and no one else was there.

What an amazing kid! I guess we'll keep her after all. :)

Leah's Boyfriend

2011-03-01T09:41:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, Ryan, Leah and I attended the Western New York Health Expo at the Erie County Fairgrounds. The place was filled with health care professionals and the like. Each booth had candy or trinkets to give away. One booth was offering free chair massages and a sample of Spinal Decompression treatment. There were prizes to win, games to play, hoops to hula.

But, as is usually the case, Leah found her soul mate almost instantly. After strolling down aisle after aisle of information laden tables and piles of free pens, she found her favorite booth...The Hamburg Fire Department. It wasn't so much the allure of firefighting, but rather her complete and total true love of "Sparky", the talking Fire Dog.

Leah has met Sparky before. I think the first time was a couple of years ago at the Erie County Fair. I never even saw him coming...but suddenly, here is this mechanical, remote controlled, talking Fire Dog...a Dalmatian (of course) decked out in a fire Hat and sunglasses, driving a fire truck AND (this is my favorite part) a hidden squirt gun!

I took Leah about 2.5 seconds to see him from afar, run full speed towards him, and launch herself towards him in a genuine bear hug...that was all it took...Sparky became her valentine.

Then, this past summer we were at the Hamburg Farmer's Market sniffing fresh herbs, fruits, vegetables and lavender scented soaps when suddenly...there he was again. He was commanding a gaggle of 2 to 5 year olds (as usual) and having a grand old time. This time when she saw him, the happiness in her eyes rivaled that which you might see in a brand new mother's gaze at her favorite person in the world. This time is was so much more...she remembered him from their first meeting more than a year ago! The excitement in her run and embrace seemed to say that maybe she had even been thinking about him and wondered if he was gone for ever...

This time, I noticed Sparky's "partner". A thin man with short brown hair and glasses wearing a set of headphones with a microphone attached and carrying a remote control. Obviously, he and Sparky have been working together for years because his performance was amazing. He knew how to be just far enough away so the kids wouldn't see him yet close enough so he could hear them and answer their questions. As soon as I saw him, I asked him to speak directly to Leah. She was standing in a group of a bunch of other kids...marveling at this talking dog! Suddenly, Sparky's head turned and tilted in Leah's direction and he said "Hello Leah! How are you today?"

You could have knocked her over with a feather! At a complete and total loss of words, she simply got down on her knees, wrapped her arms around his nck and whispered "Hi Sparky! I'm so Glad to see you! I missed you so much!".

So, this time, when Leah saw him again, she ran to him and began to chat like old friends who hadn't had a chance to talk for awhile....and then never left his side for 2 hours. Sparky followed my sweet little girl ALL OVER THE EXHIBITION HALL! She would say "Sparky?! Do you want to watch me go down the slide?" "Sure! he said. Leah took him by the paw and said "Okay...Let's go...I can show you where it is!" and began to lead the way. If Sparky got a little side tracked or slowed down, which happened pretty much every ten feet or so, Leah would turn around and say "Over here Sparky! Come here! We are almost there! You are doing really good!". At one point, I walked with her...a little further behind closer to Sparky's partner and watched in amazement as Leah and Sparky made their way around the building...inspiring laughs, winks, and claps along the way. (Maybe she'll be a politician someday?".

After a tearful and lengthy good bye, we headed home. On the way Leah asked if she could send Sparky a letter and a picture of her. It is posted below exactly the way she asked me to write it.

Dear Sparky ~

I LOVE YOU, Sparky and I’ll Miss You!

See You at the County Fair!!

From Your Number One Fan!!

Out of the mouths of babes...

2010-12-28T11:25:00.001-08:00

Ryan and I have not really decided yet on how our "faith" should look. We both believe in God (although depending on what day of the week it is we both might describe Him very differently) but neither prescribe to many of the philosophies that go along with individual churches. We were both raised as Christians, he Catholic and myself Lutheran. I like some of the traditions and ideals that go along with certain religions and others not so much. For example, the tradition of "passing the peace" or however you say it has always sent me into a sick to my stomach nervous attack. I hated having to grab the hands of all these people around me...I always tried not to make eye contact. I'm not sure why I don't like it...and still don't as a grown up...but often use it as an excuse for not going to church on a regular basis. I love the community that comes along with being a member of a congregation. My sister has a second family in her church and they support each other more often than a lot of "real" families do.

But, we just haven't found the right place for us to set up shop just yet. So, like many wanderers, we "visit" churches occassionally. This year for Christmas we attended a service at the Basilica, a Catholic church in Lackawanna (about 4 miles from our home). We chose it because it is an amazingly huge and beautiful building. Regardless of your own faith, you can not help but be moved by the love, time, hard work, and sacrifice its builders must have devoted to it. The fact that they believed so deeply that they would build this building in honor of their savior is powerful.

We were about 30 minutes early for the 4pm church service on Christmas Eve. We thought this would be early enough...not so much! The place was PACKED...people literally spilling out the doors. We found two rickety folding chairs that had been placed (strangely) behind a large pillar. From the seats you could barely see what was going on. But, we enjoyed it nonetheless. Leah scampered back and forth between my and Ryan's lap and then to Grandma and Grandpa's pew about 10 rows away. She was, of course, wearing what she proudly calls her "clocky" shoes (because of the sound they make when they hit the floor...which is amplified, it seems, about 200 times when done in a quiet, serene, strict and marble-floored place of worship) which had me cringing and turning bright red with each step. Luckily, it was a children's service so there were plenty of other children in the church being loud and/or unruly...it just seemed like she was the loudest one!

Anyway...hot being a regular attendant at a church service, let alone one in which there are so many things to do (kneel, stand, kneel, sit, kneel, pray, sing, chant, pray, kneel, kneel and chant, kneel and pray...you get my drift) she was pretty restless and excited and lost in wonder at all of these great and beautiful things around her. She lit a candle for my mother at an altar, wanted to light 10 more at other altars, wanted to know "why that man is hanging from a cross", what the pictures meant, what the words said on the stain glass windows, etc. It is hard to explain Catholocism to a willing adult, let alone a confused and curious child! But, i did my best to answer her questions and keep her as quiet as possible, until it was time for communion.

I was confirmed when I was a teenager at my Lutheran Church. I have taken the "body and the blood" many times in my life but am never quite sure if I am "allowed" to at a Catholic Church....so I always just skip it. But, when Leah heard the priest say it was time for bread and wine (interesting to me that this was the ONLY thing he said that she actually heard) she thought he meant snack time and immediately wanted to get in line for the treat.

At first, I just said no. But as the barage of questions came, I had fewer and fewer answers and less and less resolve to explain it all to her. Finally, we just told her that it was a special church that we do not go to on a regular basis and we were not allowed to have it. She didn't like this answer. So, she took matters into her own hands and walked to the front of the line (cutting off about 50 confused adults) and stood looking at the woman who was serving the body closest to our seats. She stood there quietly, looking at the woman with hope in her eyes. The woman's eyes darted from Leah to Ryan and I and back again about 30 times...silently trying to get us to get this child, who had obviously not yet had her first communion, to go back to where she belonged and sit down. After a few moments of not getting what she wanted, Leah came back to us, confused but not as upset as I thought she might get.

"Well, I can't have the bread, mommy, but I can get you some wine if you want?" she whispered (somehow at a volume that exceeds her normal non-whisper voice).

"No thank you, sweetie" I said, shortly, hoping that would be the end of it.

"You like wine don't you mommy?" she said.

"Yes, I do like wine, but I don't want any. But thank you for asking." I said, pleading silently for her to drop it.

And then, finally..."Well, if you don't want the wine...I can get you a beer instead!"

I can not be certain, but I'm pretty sure that the lightning bolt demolished a couple of people sitting next to me.

Merry Christmas!

Sad Drops...

2010-12-20T08:07:00.000-08:00

10 years ago today, my mother died peacefully at home with family and love surrounding her. Despite the fact that 3,650 days have passed since it happened, I still feel the pain sometimes like it were yesterday.

I can imagine that if I were able to actually re-live the moment when I found her (her body so still, her skin cool; my heart bursting with prayers to see her chest rise just one last time while also secretly wishing that it wouldn't so that we could all be out of our misery) it would be profoundly more painful than the hurt I feel today. Yet, it still hits me like a ton of bricks sometimes and forces me to sit, take a deep breath, consciously remember her, and then go on about my business...a little bit less cheerful than I had been a few moments before.

There was the time that I found myself in the middle of a funeral procession, my car the only one without that magnetic black flag on the roof...traffic all around us stopped in reverence for the loved one lost and in prayer for the survivors whose lives had just changed forever. I sobbed as if it were the procession we were in that day 10 years ago.

Then there was the time that I was driving in my car on a beautiful sunny summer day...marveling at the blue beauty of Lake Erie...feeling all around blessed and loved and at peace with my life and my job and my family..when suddenly a hawk came from out of nowhere and swooped past my car in a way that most people never get the chance to experience. Mom loved birds, and she and I shared a love for birds of prey, and I always think of her when I see one (or a humming bird, blue jay or heron). I had to pull off the road to let the pain come crashing out, wipe my tears, collect myself, and get back on the road again...20 minutes later.

But none have hit me as hard as the most recent.

I came home from work sometime last week and Leah came running to me at the door...an odd expression of excitement (that I had finally come home) mixed with guilt (for what I would soon find out)was painted across her sweet little face.

I hugged her as usual and asked her what she had done that day. She meekly took my hand and lead me into the dining room.

"Mommy?" she whimpered.

"Yes, sweetie?" I asked.

"I did something bad. I have to show you" she whispered, head down.

My heart started racing a little...what could it be? Had she drawn on the walls or the newly installed laminate floors? Had she broken a precious item? Had she fed something to Rusty that she shouldn't have and he had gotten sick?

She gingerly walked a few more steps and showed me. A ceramic Christmas Tree with colorful plastic light bulbs that glow from the small bulb inside sat on the table where I had placed it just a few days before. At first glance, it looked like it always did. Upon closer inspection I saw that the tip of the tree and a couple of the lights were sitting next to the base of it. Obviously broken, but not beyong repair.

Before I could even survey how bad it was, she was apologizing..."I'm so sorry mommy! I didn't mean to do it!".

I immediately switched gears and explained that it was okay, she could help me glue it back together and it would be as good as new. I repeated over and over that she didn't need to be so upset, but that she should just to try to be a little more careful. I was not in the least bit upset or hurt, despite the fact that the tree had belonged to my mother. We put it together, it looked great, and we turned the light back on and walked away.

A few minutes later, after the the exchange had already been forgotten, she came to me again and said:

"Mommy? Are you sad because your mommy died?"

Immediately the tears began streaming down my face and I had to take a deep breath to keep from falling over. I sat down and she climbed into my lap and touched my face and began crying herself. A torrent of "I'm sorry's" pouring from her mouth.

I collected myself, hugged her, and told her "Yes, I do miss my mommy, honey...every single day. She loved Christmas so much so I think of her a little bit extra around Christmas time. I am crying because I miss her, not because I am upset that you broke the tree."

"But mommy" she said, pointing to a tear drop on my cheek "you still have these sad drops! I don't want you to be sad!"

"It's okay to be sad sometimes, honey...the tears will dry up in a minute and I'll be back to normal." I said, voice still shaky.

"But WHY did she die, mommy? I don't understand why anyone dies. Why do they mommy?" she asked, sounding so lost and unsure.

"Well, my mommy died because she was very sick" I muttered. Unable to summon the strength to get into a big mortality talk, I skipped over the other questions and started telling her about the grandmother she had never gotten the chance to meet hoping that she would forget and save those harder questions for another day.

and the sad drops continue...

A Follow-Up to the Earlier Post about my need to Stop Swearing

2010-11-11T13:30:00.000-08:00

As you may remember, I posted a story a few weeks ago called "F is my favorite letter as you know" which talked about my problem with swearing. I had asked Leah to come up with a punishment suitable for the crime and it took her awhile to come up with something.

But she finally did.

Everytime I say a bad word...my punishment will be that I have to eat a dog bone!

Gotta just love that kid.

Leah's Hero

2010-11-03T09:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight at Leah's School they are having a book fair. The theme this year is "Super Heros" and I've heard that Wonder Woman and Batman will be roaming the halls. To get the kids ready and excited for the event, Leah's Teacher sent home a blank sheet entitled "My Hero Is...". THe object was to draw a picture of your hero and then explain why they are a hero for you. The sheets will be put into a drawing to win some books.

Anyway...I gave the sheet to Leah last night and told her she needed to color and draw a picture of her hero. She asked me what a hero was. I told her a hero is a person who does good things for other people, even when no one has asked them to. I hoped it was enough of an explanation since there is obviously more to it than that, but she seemed satisfied with the answer.

She made her decision immediately.

"Daddy!" she called, "Come here, please!"

When he got there, she said "Okay, Daddy. Now, smile, put your arms up like this and I'll draw your picture." After she was done, she dismissed him and then asked me what else she had to do. I told her she had to write in the person's name, which she did after asking me which letters spelled Ryan. Then, I told her she had to explain why daddy is her hero.

She cocked her head, squinched up her eyes a bit and then planted her hands on her hips. "Well, she said, "daddy is my hero because he cleans the floors and the toilets, he takes me to the YMCA to go swimming, he takes walks with me and Rusty and he makes me peanut butter bananas (a mushy concoction I never much cared for but that Leah seems to love as much as Ryan does.)

Although I can not be certain that Ryan has ever been wrapped around Leah's little finger (despite lots of evidence to the contrary), I am pretty sure that he is now!

Leah's First Day of Pre-K

2010-09-15T06:24:00.000-07:00

The morning started with 2 or 3 less presses of the snooze button. I got myself ready, then woke Leah up. She was resistant at first, but the next thing I know, she is barreling down the hallway with her "first day of school dress" in tow. After brushing teeth and hair, donning the new clothes, and eating breakfast, it was time to go to school.

After signing her in and getting her name tag on, it was time to find her cubby and drop off her Elmo backpack and her jacket.

A few minutes of looking around and watching the other kids and the teacher was shooing us parents out the door. I hugged and kissed my little girl and told her good bye and to have a great day. She was, essentially, kicking me out!

Just when I thought I had made it through the ordeal without losing it, the teacher's aide, Mrs. Seltz, handed me a little baggie with a bright yellow note attached. Inside the baggie was a tea bag, a single kleenex, and a cotton ball. The note read: "Thank you for entrusting your child to me. I promise to do my best everyday to be your child's companion in learning. After you have wiped your tears, make yourself a nice warm cup of tea. Put your feet up and relax. Then hold the cotton ball in your hand. The softness will help you recall the gentle spirit of your child. I will work alongside you this year to help your child grow."

Needless to say, the single kleenex in the bag wasn't nearly enough!

In loving Memory of my Memory

2010-09-02T08:36:00.001-07:00

I have always been amazed with Ryan's ability to remember stuff. Not the location of his keys or why I just found his wallet in the fridge (seriously)per say. But he does remember the majority of his teacher's names all the way back to kindergarten. He remembers classmates names, tiny details of a restaurant that we ate at on our 3rd date, what clothes either or both of us were wearing when such and such happened. To me, it really is a phenomenal thing because I have very few memories of my childhood...or maybe I have them but the mechanism my brain needs to find them isn't working...not sure what the problem is...but it has always been an issue for me...and something that has been a bone of contention between Ryan and I more often than you might expect.

Its weird, really. There are lots of bizarre things that I do remember with vivid clarity. For example: The reason I know what SCUBA stands for (self contained underwater breathing apparatus) is because there was an episode of "The Facts of Life" in which Joe, I think, was studying for a test. She also had to remember some of the chemical abbreviations. For Gold, the trick she learned to remember it was "A U ! Give me back that gold watch you just stole!".

Why should this information get top billing in my brain and squeeze out the important stuff like when Leah has a Doctor appointment that I promised to be at but forgot? Doesn't seem right, does it?

I am also pretty good at remembering where I saw things. So, when Ryan asks "Have you seen my watch?" I am actually able to see the whole snapshot image in my head from when I was walking past the refrigerator earlier in the day and did not even realized that I had seen and say "Yeah, actually...It is on top of the fridge next to the playdoh container and behind the carpet spot remover." And then in the same day i can find myself leaving work only to realize I totally forgot a really important thing to do?!?!

I mean, I guess I should be grateful for being able to remember anything at all. When you think about how amazing it is that we hold and carry all of this information inside of us all the time, it is quite humbling. It certainly wasn't me that created such an amazing being..I'm just along for the ride.

I can not tell you how many times I have gotten up from my desk at work and started walking down the hall way only to realize that I have no idea where I am going or what I intended to do when I got there. The worst part is that it will inevitably come back to me the moment I sit down at my desk...and then it starts all over again.

But lately it seems I've been forgetting and/or screwing up more and more things. I recently schduled a work trip which falls on the same day as my parent's in law 60th anniversary party. I made long and extensive plans to meet friends in Boston...only to realize I'd written down the wrong date and ended up missing the whole weekend. I've been losing my keys, misplacing my purse...just this morning I allegedly threw a $1500 piece of diabetic equipment ( i say allegedly because I don't want it to be true) into the garbage and have ZERO recollection of doing it! I've gone to the store with one thing in mind and come home with 10 other things but no the one thing I wanted.

Its really starting to bug me! Anyone have any advice?

"F is my favorite letter, as you know..."**

2010-08-10T19:46:00.000-07:00

If you are reading this post I am sure it will come as no surprise to you that I like to curse. I just love those 4 letter words It is not something I am proud of and God knows my mother would not approve. I'm not sure why I like it and I couldn't even begin to tell you when it began...it is just something I picked up along the way and never let go.

It kind of goes against the feel of my other descriptors. I think most would agree that I am responsible...trustworthy...intelligent....kind. I'm not sure how many would include "She's got a mouth on her like a sailor". Just doesn't seem to fit with the others, you know?

Nonetheless...it's the truth. And, as if that weren't bad enough...my favorite is the F word. I think it is because it was a forbidden fruit. My sister and I knew that that was the ultimate transgression. A softer curse was okay....but, for God's Sake, don't say THAT one!

And still, it lurks. I would never curse in front of co-workers (well, at least not AT work) or certain family members or even someone I've just met and I can behave myself if I need to, but if you catch me on a real tough day...look out...you'll likely get hit with an F bomb. If you are lucky (and I am pretty sure no one but Ryan has ever heard it) and get me in the middle of an angry rant, you'll be surprised at the versatility of the F word. I can use it as a verb, an adjective, a noun...you name the situation, I can use it appropriately...

It is actually kind of funny, if you think about it. I mean,why are the four letters S H I and T any better or worse than the four letters W O O and D?

But, for whatever the reason, I think most people would agree that saying the word spelled by W O O and D is no where near as fun as saying the word spelled by S H I and T. There is something so liberating about cursing with gusto...a nice string of obscenities can lower the blood pressure by about 40 points.

I occasionally think I should try to curtail the cursing. There is NOTHING funny about a 3 and a 1/2 year old little girl throwing a curse in to her vocabulary (despite how hard it is to keep from laughing when you hear one say it) and testing it out in a very inappropriate place at a very inappropriate time. I'll never forget the 2 1/2 year old little girl I used to babysit who got mad at me one day and said "you be quiet you f***ing B*tch!!". I laughed my butt off at first but then immediately started thinking that her parents must not be parenting her very well.

So, when I overheard Leah saying this to her cousin the other day...

"My mommy uses a LOT of bad words"...

I was mortified.

"Oh Dear God!", I thought. "Do I really swear that much? Is this really what I am teaching my daughter??"

So, I asked her if she could help me out. I told her that I wanted to change something about myself. That I realize that I use bad words too much and I would like to stop so that people will respect me and that I want to teach my daughter how important it is to show her BEST self to the world...as often as she has the strength to do it.

I told her that she and daddy needed to come up with a punishment for me that I would have to do every time I said a dirty word. I was thinking something along the lines of a quarter in the rainy day fund jar or a few minutes in time out...

She thought about it for a minute and turned a few wheels over in her brain and said: "I know what I can do mommy... when you say a bad word I will.....I will....ummm...hmmm...well, it's a secret!"

A few hours later I asked again, wondering if she'd been thinking about it and dying to know what she would think was an appropriate punishment. This time her answer sounded similar, but the tone of her voice made it all different. This time, she said, with a wicked smile and in a sing song voice "I can't tell you mommy! Its a seeeeecrettttt!!!!"

Hmmm...I think this plan might be working already. I am honestly a little scared of what she might come up with.

** (The title is actually a quote from a song by Canadian-born singer/songwriter Kathleen Edward. I just had to borrow it for this occasion!)

Damn that fat kid...

2010-07-21T08:54:00.001-07:00

I had the following) conversation with my Gastric Bypass surgeon last week at my 3 month check - up.

Dr P - "So you are doing great! Wow! Excellent weight loss for the first 3 months!!"

Me - "Thanks! I feel great!"

Dr. P ' "Now...listen to me and pay attention. This part of the post-op period can start to get a little tougher. Some people have a short plateau around this time. I don't want you to get discouraged if you have a couple slow weeks...you might not lose at all and you might even see some very slight gain"

Me: "Oh I know....yeah that can be tough...I'll be fine!"

The voices in my head: "Whatever, homes. I GOT this!"

Dr. P. "Keep in mind that there are a lot of things going on that can influence your weight. You are excercising more so you'll be building muscle, which weighs more than fat."

Me: "Mmm hmm"

The voices in my head: "Save it for some other poor schlump...I got this covered, yo!"**

Dr. P. "Your body chemistry is changing which causes shifts in calorie requirements and fat storage. Try not to pay attention too much to the number on the scale...notice how you feel and how your clothes fit and such."

Me: "Yes, I know...I've already seen a change."

The voices in my head: "Come on, yo! Why you gotta play me like that? Its all good!"

Dr. P - "OK, great! Keep up the good work...see you in 3 months. You deserve a hug, I'm so proud of you!"

Me - (slightly teary-eyed) "Thanks so much! See you soon!"

The voices in my head: "Easy, Romeo...I got a rep to protect."

Okay...so that was a rather long winded intro to what it is I'd like to report. I got weighed today, 14 weeks post op and the scale said a number that was one pound higher than what it said last week. HUH?

And that was all it took. Despite all of the voluminous evidence to the contrary all I could see was the failure.

My body fat percentage has decreased 9%.
BMI has decreased 21%
I have lost 20% of my TOTAL body weight.
I am 43% closer to my goal weight.
I have been exercising consistently and continue to do more things.
I haven't had a slice of bread or a morsel of pasta in 110 days (but who's counting).
I have dropped 2 full pants sizes and 3 full shirt sizes.
I recently purchased a "normal" bathing suit with no skirt, dress, shorts, apron or other camoflaging device (which Ryan likes to call "optical illusions").
I can comfortably cross my legs and lay my hands in my lap (which may not seem like a strange thing, but I actually could not do that before.)
I can, and have, walked around the block with Leah, ridden bikes with Leah, chased her in the back yard, rode in a go cart with her (also couldn't do that before...couldn't even fit myself in)...you get the idea.

So, why is it that I let myself get discouraged by that 1 stinking pound?

Maybe it is because I've been down this road before...I've seen the scale start sneaking back up and simply stopped getting on it anymore.

Maybe it is because I secretly fear that this is not my last battle with the bulge.

Maybe it it is because it is hard to let go of something you've been clinging to for 30 years, even if it is no longer of any use to you?!?

Maybe it is because the healthy, normal weight women inside me (who is coming closer and closer to the surface each day) seems like a really cool chick but I just haven't been able to get to know her very well. What if everyone likes her better than me?

Maybe it is because I live in a society that shouts from the rooftops that being fat is NOT okay and that when the scale goes up instead of down you might as well get out of the way because someone thinner will come along to take your place.

In the long run, I know that I am doing well and that I should be VERY grateful for what I have accomplished so far....but, even after all these years, the insecure, chubby little 8 year old seems to win out most of the time...

On the other hand, I am on my way to spinning class AGAIN tommorow morning...maybe the 8 year old is growing up a bit?!?

** Unbeknownst to me, it would appear that the voice in my head is that of an angry adolescent gang member.

My very big little girl...

2010-07-19T19:09:00.000-07:00

Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, Ryan and I attend the "aqua fit" water aerobics class at our YMCA....the last 4 weeks, our Monday class has been broken up a bit because Leah is also taking Swim Lessons in the other end of the pool. I usually spend a lot of my class watching her. She LOVES to be in a situation in which she is learning and engaged. There are only 3 other kids in her group and every time I look over to see what is happening, I see her making eye contact with the instructor and nodding with understanding...she ants to do a good job so she pays attention.

30 feet away, you'll find me doing essentially the same thing. I want the instructor to look at me, see how hard I am working, and say "Wow! What a great job!!" Sometimes she does...mostly not, though. I know I am working hard and I suppose that should be enough...I mean, after all, I am doing it for me...not for anyone else.

And then when I least expect it, I get an even better alternative. When I got home (ryan and I had taken separate cars and he left the YMCA before me), Leah greeted me at the front door in her pink fuzzy footie pajamas. I came in the door and before I could even set anything down, she said (loosely translated) "Mommy? Remember when I was at my swim lesson and you were on the other side at your clas? "Yes", I say. "Well, she says, I was watching you and I could see that you were doing a really very very very good job and I am so proud of you!"

Who could ask for anything more?

Recipe for a Perfect 4th Birthday Weekend

2010-06-28T09:02:00.000-07:00

Ingredients:

3 warm, sunny days filled with sunshine, cool evenings, and very little rain

6 long-distance visitors (preferably 1 Aunt Col, 1 Poppie, and 4 cousins whose names all start with J)

1 mommy and 1 daddy (optional)

1 very happy, very tired, and very sweet Rusty

495 (approximately) pink and/or purple princess and/or Dora toys and/or outfits and/or videos

less than 12 hours of sleep (over the course of the WHOLE weekend!)

1 slip n slide

4 wet cousins

42 purple glow in the dark sticks, necklaces and balls

1 secret mission

100 pounds of purple sand-box sand

at LEAST 2 pounds of sugar ingested per day (even at breakfast...heck, even FOR breakfast!)

17 laps on the go cart track (Leah and I riding together!)

1000 licks (of ice cream cones)

15 popped balloons

45 minutes and about a million dollars worth of Fireworks (Thanks, West Seneca!)

45 minutes and a priceless amount of looks of wonder on your little girls face

5 precious minutes of snuggling with the birthday girl

2 hours at a local carnival

Hugs - as many as is humanly possible to get/give in 3 days

laughs - at least a dozen per minute (i have found that additional laughs added improve the recipe exponentially)

1 purple cake with purple frosting and an amazing likeness of Dora on top (artistically created by your 9 year old niece)

2 dozen hot dogs on the grill

12 ears of corn

42 trips to the grocery store (one at 2AM)

1 gourmet breakfast shopped for, prepared by and served by your hubby

72 arms and legs inside a 64 arms and legs capacity truck

3 digital cameras, 3 laptop computers, 2 web cams and a total of 375 pictures downloaded

2 accidental right turns and 3 extra miles driven to get to the restaurant that is one mile from the house....even on the same road (this must be done by the local resident, while the out of town guests follow unwittingly)!

1 tie dye kit

1 camp fire

1 bag of giant marshmallows (of which only 3 actually make it to the roasting phase)

15 to 100 bumps/bruises/mosquito bites/skinned knees/inadvertantly hurt feelings all quickly healed with kisses

100 requests to play (cards, swings, croquet, playground, bike ride, walk, sand box, slip in slide, barbie dress up, pricess tea parties) and 100 resounding "YES"s.

1 little girl turning 4

1 mommy wondering how her baby girl could possibly be turning 4 already

1 short visit with Grandma and Grandpa

1 trip to Unka's for swimming and chips with dip (what, no salsa??)

49 rounds of the "Sleep Game" with Poppie

7458 tickles

7458 giggles

90 powerfully delivered "Listen Sister!"s

2 Hours of cutting little plastic fasteners that connect toys to a maze of cardboard

a half dozen episodes of uncontrollable laughter (one of which is instigated by the birthday girl landing in a plate of guacamole mere milliseconds after my mad-mommy-mandate of "Alright, Everyone Needs to SETTLE DOWN!")

3 very late night chats with dad (and his carriage didn't even turn into a pumpkin!)

1 long conversation with your very grown up nephew with a very grown up heart

4 Happy Birthday Voice Mail messages for Leah (from Aunt Linda, Aunt Traci, Aunt Claudia and Grandma)

1 bag of really cute hand me downs from your best friend (and it doesn't hurt if she sends you "Eclipse" too!)

2 dozen attempts at catching up with your sister foiled by 3 dozen frantic cries of "Mommy?....MOMMMY!"

4 dozen kisses on the head followed by 4 dozen whispered I love yous

1 tearful goodbye and wave (if you experiment with this recipe, could you PLEASE let me know if you have found a way to leave this ingredient out?!?!?)

1 box of items left behind and shipped back to Argyle in the mail

Directions:

1 - Add the ingredients one by one.

2 - Stir/shake/twist/twirl/dance/bop/jump/skip or otherwise agitate gently for 3 days.

3 - Start planning for next year! (Pictures to Follow)

Dear Leah

2010-06-02T20:00:00.000-07:00

It is 11:00pm and I am three hours in to a Golden Girls Marathon. I am home alone with Rusty because you, Daddy, Grandma, and Grandpa are in Rochester visiting Aunt Linda and Uncle Frank. Daddy took you there because I have to work a lot of hours this week and he didn't want you to have to endure the long hours of being away from me. You and I have become

Star Light, Star Bright

2010-05-24T22:01:00.000-07:00

Lately, Leah has been missing me (and I her) a LOT. I've been working some extra hours and so most days I leave before she is awake and come home just a few hours before her bedtime. When I come home from work each day, she greets me enthusiastically with a warm hug, a sweet smile and a list of things we can do together. Hide-n-Seek? Toss Up? Color? Cards? Playground? She comes prepared with a long and diverse list, hoping to remove even the tiniest chance of rejection. When she looks at me with that angel face with excitement almost dripping off her...I am ashamed to admit that I don't always seize the precious moment being presented to me. Instead I allow myself to be bogged down with all of life's stresses which, when viewed independantly seem trivial at best. Will spending time worrying about the car breaking down or the dead tree in the back yard falling into the neighor's pool before we got around to having it taken down make any of those stresses go away? Probabaly not.

I know a day will come that she might not care that I have just arrived home or be so preoccupied with her friends that giving mom a hug is the last thing on her mind and I will wish I could turn back time and claim all those missed moments that were rightfully mine. It reminds me of when I was younger and my mom would come home from a long day at two jobs. I would assault her at the door with "what's for dinner"? She always said she needed a few minutes to catch her breath. Now I know what she meant.

But, there are those days when I scoop her up, get my hug, and join her for her adventures...whatever they may be. We have played detective, gardener, doctor and princess more times than I can count. Tonight she was helping me clean the kitchen and vacumm the living room. It was already way past her bedtime (not that she actually has one at this point) and she was raring to go. She asked if she could go outside to see if it was warm or cold. I opened the door and told her to just take a couple of minutes because I didn't want her outside in the dark for too long. I went on about my business of wiping and cleaning and scrubbing when I suddenly realized she had been out there for longer than I had intended. I opened the door to the deck and I heard her voice but couldn't make out what she was saying. I quietly listened a little harder.

She was sitting in her rocking chair, rocking of course, and singing (which she has been doing a LOT of lately). I sat down in a chair next to her and listened...

"Oh moon in the skyyyyy why can't you come closer to meeeeee...you are so shiny but you are behind a treeeee".

When she heard me sit, she turned around and said "Hi Mama! Want to sing with me?". Of course I did! She told me that she was looking at the moon but was having trouble seeing it because it was hiding behind some tree branches. I got a flashlight and told her to go find it. I stood leaning againse the deck railing and watched her run to a better vantage point, flashlight bobbing. When she found a good spot, she aimed the flashlight at the moon and started up the moon song again. It was already a perfect summer evening. It was warm and a cool breeze was blowing gently. The sweet scent of blooming flowers and trees blew through the yard. As I watched her and soaked up all of the perfectness in that moment, I started to cry. I was 100% aware that this night was a gift.

It reminded me of the nights when I was a kid and we would stay up late, snuggled in blankets in folding lawn chairs, waiting for a meteor shower. The realization that my mother had done the same kinds of things with my sister and I that I was doing now with Leah overwhelmed me.

I was very close to my mother....I think most daughters would say the same thing...I knew that I could always count on her to listen to me and make me feel loved, important, respected and safe. I've mentioned before that it is hard to navigate the maze of emotions that present themself after a tragic loss. I've wondered, more times than I can count, what my relationship would be like with her if she were still alive and if my parenting methods would clash with hers.

Since I now know what it is like to love a child so deeply, I can imagine that my mom would most certainly love me and respect me, regardless of our ideals but it is sometimes hard to convince yourself when you don't have concrete evidence.

And then, as if from nowhere, the universe aligns just so and a glimpse of the answers I've been seeking appear.

Happy Daughter's Day

2010-05-12T12:38:00.001-07:00

Dear Leah -

3 days ago was Mother's Day. While your daddy and I generally believe that love for someone shouldn't be saved for a special occassion, this particular day is a very important one for me. Since my mother died almost 10 years ago, it has become even more special and precious. I can remember many Mother's Days in which we all went out to a buffett breakfast or a favorite restaurant. I remember standing in line for hours to take my grandmother, too. I even remember showing up, unexpected, at my parent's home on a Mother's Day morning...even though I was away at college and the drive was about three hours...but I just kept imagining the look on my mother's face when she opened the door and saw me standing there.

This year was an especially good Mother's Day, for me, at least. I don't remember telling you anything in particular about MOther's Day, but in your typical way, you must have heard people talking about it or heard a commercial on the radio or TV. We were walking around the Kissing Bridge ski resort...a great place to go in the summer because no one is around and you and Rusty can run wild. You had gotten quite a bit ahead of us and then you suddenly turned around and came running in my direction, one hand tucked behind your back. As you got closer to me, you started to tilt your head and bat your eyelashes so I knew something either cute or mischevious was about to be revealed.

You stopped a foot or two in front of me, untucked the hidden arm, and reached out to me with a dandelion in your hand...and softly in the sing song voice of yours said "Happy Mother's Day!"...I was so proud and so grateful to have such a thoughtful little girl. It reminded me of when I was a kid and I would gather up dandelions and any other kind of colorful bloom and bring them to my mom (who was usually inside washing dishes.)

You repeated this adorable scene about a dozen times before Mother's Day actually arrived. Once with another dandelion, once with a wooden flower on a stick, once with a makeshift flower from a building set...anything and everything you could get your hands on seemed to do the trick. I cherished each and every one.

I wish we could invent a happy daughter's day!

Can't Find a Title That Works for This One

2010-05-09T14:28:00.000-07:00

I was sitting on the couch this afternoon after a beautiful mother's day brunch with lots of family. Leah was sitting next to me on the couch. Here is the conversation that transpired between us:

Leah: "Mommy? Do you hear my tummy?"

Lyn: (with little effort and not much attention) "MMmm hmmm."

Leah: "Its making that crazy sound!"

Lyn: (with a tiny bit more attention this time) "Oh? Really?"

Leah: "Yeah! It's growling!"

Lyn: "Wow! That is really loud!"

Leah: "Yeah....its reallyreally hungry!"

Lyn: "Yes, it sounds like that...but we just had lunch..." (the latter part added hoping to dissuade her since I'd just reclined my chair, Ryan was asleep, and I was hoping we'd all catch some Z's).

Leah: "I'm really hungry mommy..."

Lyn: "Okay honey, hold on just a minute, okay?"

Leah: "MOMMY (a little more intently this time)...I'm really really hungry!"

Lyn" "Okay, sweetie...just one more second, okay?"

Leah" "Mommy, can I please have some more pizza?" (she'd found a leftover slice in the fridge"

Lyn: "You know what, honey, do you think you could wait a little while? Mommy doesn't really feel very good right now."

Leah: "Well, what's wrong, Mommy?"

Lyn: "I don't know...I just kind of feel a little yucky"

Leah: "What feels a little yucky? Can you get me that pizza please?"

Lyn: "Well, its my tummy..."

Leah: "Well, you can still walk can't you?"

'Nuf said.

The Best Laugh I've Had in a While!

2010-05-05T10:20:00.001-07:00

When the weather started getting warm these last few weeks, I asked my sister-in-law, who is the only person I know who likes to go to garage sales as much as I do, if she would keep her eyes open for a play kitchen for Leah.

She delivered it in less than a week! And, since Leah got it, she has played with hardly nothing else! And, being the youngest member of the family, and therefore the most spoiled, she has been receving gifts from Aunt Claudia as well as grandma to "outfit" her little kitchen. Without exaggeration, Leah now has enough cups, plates, bowls, saucers, utensils, and accerssories to host at least 5 full fledged tea parties simultaneously.

Last night, while on her 10th hour of playing in that kitchen, I guess she decided to change things up a bit.

She walked over to me with a dry erase board and marker in her hand, and said "Excuse me, mam. What would you like to eat?"

"What do you have? I inquired.

"Well, you can have a popsicle, popcorn, or green beans."

"Great! I would love a popsicle."

After she left my table, she went into the kitchen and returned with a small bowl with a single, frozen, green bean and a small plate carrying the popsicle. Next, she decided to get something for Ryan, too.

This time she came out of the kitchen with an actual tray that held a plate of popcorn and a small glass of water. As she approaced Ryan's table to deliver his order, she started saying "Here you go, sir...her is your dinner!" and then, as if on que, she slowly extended the tray to him and the glass of water slid off the tray and right onto Ryan's lap.

I can honestly say I have not laughed that hard in YEARS!

Thanks,Leah!

The Awful Truth

2010-05-04T06:52:00.000-07:00

Diabetes. Just typing, saying, or even looking at the word makes me anxious. My heart races a little, my palms start to sweat, and the steam starts coming out of my ears. Without our consent, this disease has become a fourth member of our family and no matter how hard we fight it, try to outsmart it, or work towards controlling it, it will NEVER leave.

Even as I type the words, I can hear the chorus of nay-sayers. "But why don't you just take care of yourself? Should you REALLY be eating that? I thought diabetics weren't allowed to eat sugar? If only you would have tested your sugar more often, these terrible things wouldn't be happening to you." Statements like this come, for the most part, from people who have a very limited view of what diabetes is...let alone any kind of understanding of the differences between the TYPES of diabetes.

If you were to ask a random stranger on the street "What do you know about diabetes?" chances are their answer would be something like "Oh, well, isn't that the disease where you can't eat anything sweet? Man, I'd hate to have that disease!". To the typical layperson this might seem a harmless statement, but to a hardened victim of the disease it sounds uninformed at least and insulting at best. Don't get me wrong, I certainly don't expect everyone to be as educated as I have become about this disease but at the very least, be open to the idea that the patient probably understands it better than you ever will.

Would you believe that a staff member at my husband's endocrinologist office explained that the reason the doctor was so busy was because she had 4000 patients and that if "people would just start taking care of themselves, they wouldn't get diabetes in the first place?". If this is the kind of thing that people IN THE MEDICAL PROFESSION are saying, how can we expect anything more from the general public??

With the increasing focus in this country on obesity, especially in childhood, which has led to increasing rates of Type 2 Diabetes, this disease has become something that its victims are BLAMED FOR and the more severe and lesser known form of Type 1 Diabetes has become all but forgotten! Try to think of it this way. If you ran into someone who told you they'd just been diagnosed with breast cancer, would your first thought be "Oh, you POOR thing!" or "How could you let that happen to yourself? You should not have been ingesting all those free radicals!" Sounds ridiculous, right?

If you were a cancer patient, would you tolerate being told, on a daily basis, by friends, family, strangers, politicians, comedians and anyone else in the peanut gallery that you don't deserve sympathy or treatment because it is your FAULT that you are sick? Hardly. Yet Type 1s suffer this injustice daily. Society has come to view the diabetic as a fat,lazy, and irresponsible malingerer unworthy of sympathy.

My husband was diagnosed with TYPE 1 Diabetes when he was 19. He passed out and was admitted to the hospital with a blood sugar of over 700mg/dl. (non diabetic people have blood sugars that range from 70 to 100). He was immediately put on insulin, and being an adult capable of caring for himself, let back out into the cold cruel world. TYPE 1 diabetics differ greatly from Type 2 diabetics. TYPE 1's produce very little insulin of their own, or in extreme cases, not at all. They will surely die without immediate and constant injections of synthetic insulin. A Type 2 diabetic probably makes their own insulin but has a decreased capacity, or resistance, to use it. In many cases, a type 2 diabetic will become symptom and complication free within a few months just by taking an oral medication and monitoring their blood sugar daily.

While the difference may seem subtle, the reality is not. Part of the societal stereotype comes from the fact that of the 23.6 million people (or 7.8% of the population), only about 5 to 10% are Type 1, therefore the majority of the education, emphasis, research, media coverage and time is spent on Type 2. Left out in the cold, the Type 1s are alone left to defend themselves against a society that could never possibly understand their plight.

Because Ryan and I have faced so much injustice, misunderstanding, and questionable health care, I decided it was high time to get out my soapbox and share some things with you that do not seem to be general knowledge.

Type 1 diabetes is a chronic, debilitating, and often fatal autoimmune disease that currently has NO CURE.

Type 1 diabetes is NOT caused by obesity, lack of exercise, or an overactive sweet tooth...in fact, there is little more than speculation about what the cause actually is. Some theories of the cause are viral infection, drinking too much cow's milk as an infant, genetics, nutrtional deficiencies, etc.

Typee 1 diabetes is sometimes called "Juvenile Diabetes" because it tends to be diagnosed in childhood or adolescence. However...adults can develop Type 1 diabetes and children can develop Type 2. As far as I am concerned, they should be considered entirely different diseases.

Type 1s can eat sweets in moderation, just like everyone else. The only difference is that when a "normal" person eats a piece of cake their body takes care of the sugar for them. The TYPE 1 must count the number of carbohydrates in the cake and then give themselves enough insulin to counter act it. Interestingly enough, many of those "Sugar Free" products out there these days contain MORE carbohydrates than their "normal" counterparts, therefore requiring MORE insulin.

At any given moment, a Type 1 must carry a glucometer, a lancet, test strips, extra batteries for their equipment, extra accessoriees, a glucagon syringe in case blood sugars go to low, glucose tablets, a journal to record insulin usage, blood sugar readings and carbohydrates consumed, a reference manual for counting carbs, ketone test strips...the list goes on and on.

A 19 year old Type 1 who lives to age 70 will stick himself with a needle more than 100,000 times in his life.

Type 1 effects virtually every organ system in the body (info below taken from Merck.com

Blood vessels
Fatty material (atherosclerotic plaque) builds up and blocks large or medium-sized arteries in the heart, brain, legs.

The walls of small blood vessels are damaged so that the vessels do not transfer oxygen to tissues normally, and the vessels may leak.

Poor circulation causes wounds to heal poorly and can lead to heart disorders, strokes, gangrene of the feet and hands, erectile dysfunction (impotence), and infections.

Eyes
The small blood vessels of the retina are damaged.
Decreased vision and, ultimately, blindness occur.

Kidney
Blood vessels in the kidney thicken.

Blood is not filtered normally.
The kidneys malfunction, and ultimately, kidney failure occurs.

Nerves
Nerves are damaged because glucose is not metabolized normally and because the blood supply is inadequate.
Legs suddenly or gradually weaken.

People have reduced sensation, tingling, and pain in their hands and feet.

Autonomic nervous system
The nerves that control blood pressure and digestive processes are damaged.
Swings in blood pressure occur.

Swallowing becomes difficult.

Digestive function is altered, and sometimes bouts of diarrhea occur.

Erectile dysfunction develops.

Skin
Blood flow to the skin is reduced, and sensation is decreased, resulting in repeated injury.
Sores and deep infections (diabetic ulcers) develop.

Healing is poor.

Blood
White blood cell function is impaired.
People become more susceptible to infections, especially of the urinary tract and skin.

Connective tissue
Glucose is not metabolized normally, causing tissues to thicken or contract.
Carpal tunnel syndrome and Dupuytren's contracture develop

Do you know of any other disease that effects as much?

The best way to slow the progression of these complications is to monitor and keep tight control of blood sugars.

Seems easy enough, right?

WRONG!

THe amount of work and dedication it takes for a Type 1 to maintain "good" sugar levels is monstrous and sometimes even impossible. Even with excellent life long blood sugar control, Type 1s will still suffer from many of these complications. If someone said to you "hey, you should eat a bowl of lima beans every day for the rest of your life to avoid developing cancer" and then went on to tell you that it might not even be affective, would you eat the lima beans? (okay...not the greatest analogy, but I hope you get the idea).

In addition, blood sugar levels can rise and fall for a million reasons...
- eating too much carbs
- not eating ENOUGH carbs
- eating "bad" carbs
- taking insulin too late or too soon
- stress
- physical activity
- vitamin deficiencies
- weight loss
- weight gain
- insulin going bad
- insulin pump malfunction
- rebounding from a high sugar
- rebounding from a low sugar
- dawn phenomena - when insulin levels in the morning are lower than usual
- medication reactions (Ryan has been prescribed drugs that will raise his blood sugar levels...more than once!)

So, there you go.

Thanks for listening to my rant. Could you do me a favor please? Should you ever meet a Type 1 diabetic, be kind.

Hearing some one say "Wow...I've heard how horrible that disease is...it must be so tough on you!"

Believe me, they will appreciate it...more than you know.

Leah, the Beautician

2010-04-30T08:47:00.000-07:00

This past Saturday, Ryan was going out in the evening to attend a show with his brother. A couple of hours before he left I decided to take a nap. About an hour into my slumber, Leah came in and jumped on the bed and said "Time to wake up Mommy!"

Through my sleepy eyes I noticed something about her that didn't seem quite right...

"Leah?" I said.

"Yes Mama?" she sang.

"Come here, honey...let me look at you...what did you do?"

She grinned from ear to ear, the mischief dancing in her eyes. She tilted her head in her cutest "I can do no wrong" pose and whispered..."nothing"...

She came closer and I realized what she'd done. In place of what used to be whispy blond curls that reached her shoulders were butchered chunks of not-much-longer-than eye lashes hair. I gasped in horror.

She gave no reason for doing it. I think she was probably just bored. I hated the thought of having her hair cut short to try to hide the problems, but there was just NO WAY she'd be able to keep it as it was.

When I got home from work, she came running to me saying "MOMMY MOMMY! LOOK AT MY NEW HAIR!!!!

As luck would have it, she's adorable either way!

Out of the Mouths of Babes...

2010-04-22T14:47:00.000-07:00

At dinner tonight, we were discussing our days. Leah had a particularly rough one since she had gone for a walk with Rusty and Ryan and had fallen into the creek! As she was recounting her day, Ryan said "It was a long day, wasn't is?" and with a big sigh she said "Yes! Let's take each other's hands and pray". So, we did. "Thank you God for my family who I love so much and I am so glad to be at home!"

Just when I thought I couldn't be more proud she piped up again and said "Mommy, can I have some more cauliflower please?"

Music to my ears!

Chillin' With Poppie!

2010-04-12T13:50:00.000-07:00

My dad came to visit us on April 5 and stayed for a week (which means he left this morning :( )to help us out after Ryan and I were both recovering from our perspective surgeries. We had a great time and here are some of the highlights:

Poppie is not really an American Idol fan, but he had to pretend a little since this is an Idol household...

Even though I couldn't eat...it was still fun to watch:

We visited the 5 and dime called Viddler's in East Aurora:

And, of course, we visited lots of family, like Grandma Virginia and Grandpa Vinny:

And, of course, lots of cruising around in Poppie's van...without a care in the world!

Thanks so much for coming to help us out this week, Poppie! We sure enjoyed having you here and getting to spend lots of time with you! We love you and miss you so much already! See you in June!

My Amazing, Beautiful, Compassionate, and Loving Little Girl

2010-03-26T08:14:00.000-07:00

Since the minute Leah was placed in my arms, I was in love. This is no secret. And it certainly isn't an oddity....what mother doesn't love her child? I was immediately overwhelmed by the power of the love I felt for her. Despite all the times I had heard my father say "you will not believe how much you can love someone" it still hit me hard.

What continues to amaze me is how that love just keeps growing and changing. Just when I'm sure she's done all she could to amaze me, she does another 10 things.

While we were waiting during Ryan's eye surgery, she found about a million ways to keep herself entertained. We watched TV, watched parts of a movie, colored, played with dolls...you name it...we did it for at least a few minutes! Towards the end of the waiting, I was starting to get nervous because it seemed to be taking too long...and she noticed, and made sure to keep herself busy. It felt as if she interacted with me just enough to make sure that I was okay, but not so much as to get annoyed. She made up the cutest game.

She has this little purple "suite case" filled with crayons, markers, colored pencils and stuff. She put a couple of small notebooks inside. She walked over to me with her Barbie and said "Mommy? Can you please keep watch of my Barbie while I go to work?" well...of course! So, I took the Barbie and held her on my lap and watched as she went to work. She closed the door of the little children's waiting room and waved on her way out the door. Then, she walked a few feet down the hall where a kid's hummer was parked (not sure why it was there since it didn't seem to work...but she loved it nonetheless). She climbed into the Hummer, carefully placing her "briefcase" on the seat beside her...buckled herself in...looked back for one last wave goodbye and then "drove" herself to work. Once she got there, she unbuckled herself, grabbed her briefcase, and then walked into another part of the waiting room. (The children's waiting room was enclosed in glass, so I could see wherever she went). She sat down, opened up her briefcase, took out the notebooks and papers and began diligently working. When she was done, she reversed the whole thing and came back into the waiting room to pick up her Barbie, thanking me profusely for taking such good care of her!

When it was time to go into the recovery room she was a little nervous since there were lots of machines and doctors and weird looking things all around. I turned my back for a second to talk to the nurse and when I turned back around, Leah was standing next to Ryan's bed, gently rubbing his back while crooning "Its okay Daddy! You are going to be okay!"...my heart literally felt like it was going to jump out of my chest.

When we got to our hotel after the surgery, which Leah had been DYING to get to since we told her we were going, she immediately made herself comfortable and was loving every minute. Shortly thereafter, her Aunt Barb came to pick her up to stay overnight at her house so Ryan and I could get some rest...and peace and quiet. When I first told her, she started to fuss...saying "But I want to stay at the hotel!"...I hugged her and whispered "Daddy just had a really important doctor visit and the doctor wants to make sure that he has plenty of rest. So, we are going to stay here tonight and then we will see you tomorrow, okay?" She quickly looked at Ryan, then quickly at her Aunt, then back to me...processing this crazy idea and said "Okay Mom. See you Tomorrow"....then ran out the door, never looking back.

It might seem like normal things that kids do, but I can not get over that at not quite 4 years old, she has managed to develop this amazing resilience, maturity, and compassion...there are plenty of grown ups in the world who would benefit greatly from her example.

Myself included.

Some Recent Things that Have Made me Proud

2010-03-17T19:50:00.000-07:00

From before Leah was even speaking full sentences, or full words, for that matter, Ryan and I have tried to impress upon her the importance of being polite. A moment to teach never slipped through our fingers. We would prod her and remind her and constantly ask "What do you say?" when moments calling for "please" or "thank you" presented themselves. I've listened to her whine and moan for 30 minutes straight, ignoring her until she uttered the appropriate one and then regaling her with "That's my girl!", "What a good job!" and "You are getting SOOO big!". It seemed as if the day would never come.

And then, suddenly, it did.

Just a few days ago I was standing in the kitchen putting dishes away. Leah came in, walked over to me and said "Mommy, can you please get me a drink?" My heart swelled with pride and love and gratitude.

Earlier this evening, Leah was sitting in her rocking chair. Of course the rocking is as fast and crazy as it could possibly be and before long, her backward rock landed on Rusty's foot. He immediately got up and started to head upstairs to his retreat (under the desk in our room). I stopped him and called him over on the couch to comfort him and told Leah to leave him alone for a little while because he needed a break. This did not settle well, since she and Rusty are tight, she became immediately distraught at the idea of being separated from him. After a few minutes she'd worked herself into quite a frenzy so I decided to lift the Rusty ban and allowed her to give him a gentle hug.

She approached him slowly, tears still streaming, put her hands on either side of his face, crooning his name. She gently pet him and slowly moved in for a full body hug. She buried her head in his fur and gently said "Oh Rusty...poor honey...I'm so sorry I rocked on you! It was an accident! I was just trying to go faster! My poor Rusty!" and the tears started again in earnest. This was her first spontaneous "I'm sorry" and the moment moved me.

When I got home today Leah came running down the driveway to meet me. She climbed into the car and into the front seat. Before even saying hello, she gently reached down and rubbed my tummy and then looked at me and said "Mommy! Your tummy is getting smaller already!" and then preceded to buckle herself into her car seat.

We were driving home from the in-laws house one night last week. Leah was humming and singing like she usually does. Suddenly she says "Mommy and Daddy! I have a song for you!" and starts singing. "Its always much more fun....to try and write a song!" and we applaud her profusely. I thought it was cute of course, but the Ryan said "Don't you think it is kind of crazy that she even knows that songs are "written"...." Wow! How true!

Ryan and I try very hard to have healthy food choices available for Leah. We are both desperate to keep her from becoming the typical fat kid of fat parents. We regularly talk about fruits and veggies and why it is important to eat different foods. She knows that eating healthy will help her to grow big and tall and strong and just being reminded of that often stops her in her tantrum tracks about candy. So one day we were talking about having a snack. We walked together to the fridge and opened the door. I asked her what she wanted and after a very careful examination of the fridge contents said "I think I need some protein"....music to my ears.

Ryan and I are not religious people, but we both strive for spirituality and hope to give Leah a foundation to build on when it comes to religion and God and such. I have only done bedtime prayers a few times with Leah. The first time she had a lot of questions and seemed a little perplexed about who she was talking to when she prayed. A few weeks ago, Leah was sitting on my lap in a rare and treasured moment of stillness and I heard her mumbling. I asked her who she was talking to and she said "God". "Really?" I said, "What are you talking to him about?" "My thanks" she says and then continued in her sweet little sing-song voice "thanks for my mommy and my family and my house and my Rusty"...

I can't even begin to express all of the emotions that these stories evoke in me. Being Leah's mom has been such a joy and a gift. Can't imagine what else is in store.

Thank God for the Stadlers!

2010-02-20T07:16:00.000-08:00

When Ryan and I were first dating and it came time to meet his family for the first time, I was mortified! Ryan had lots of stories about being the youngest of 7 siblings and I had nothing to compare it to, having grown up with just one sister. He had a family photo that we spent hours with. I would look at it, point out a face and then start trying to remember as much as I could about each one of them. It was harder than studying for an Organic Chemistry test! I was so afraid I was going to say the wrong name or ask about the wrong child. I NEVER imagined how quickly they'd take me into the fold and how easily I'd start to feel like another member of the family.

In the last 2 years I have felt more blessed and more grateful than I ever thought possible. Through the trials and tribulations of all of Ryan's health problems (and some of my own as well!), his family has stepped up to the plate to support us every single time. Here is a list of some of the things they've done for us...(i won't mention names...but you know who you are!)

- driven Ryan to various doctor's appointments, from Downtown Buffalo to Niagara Falls...even as far as Cleveland and back (and not just one time!)
-provided babysitting services for Leah, complete with unlimited sea shells, more toys than she could ever possibly play with, meals, snacks and treats ON DEMAND, videos, movies, cartoons, and non stop saying "YES" to any and every one of her wants or needs.
-mowed our lawn....every single saturday this past summer....from May until October....without being asked and without being "put upon".
-completely weeded and re-landscaped not only our front yard, but our enormous backyard as well, including wrangling hastas and plants that had overgrown beyond the point of recognition
-called and asked if they could pick us up anything from the store and then delivered a full 2 weeks worth of groceries to our door.
-made meals and deliverd them or made meals and invited us over or came to our house and cooked for us there, and then cleaned up the kitchen, too
-vacuumed, dusted, washed dishes, did laundry (like probably more than 100 loads!), swept, mopped....if it had anything to do with cleaning...they've done it.
-moved furniture from one room to another and then back again when we changed our minds later!
-brought us gifts and treats and took us out to dinner or out for coffee or out for ice cream
-offered to do any thing you can think of and then did it without complaint...over and over again
-watched Rusty, or let him in or out, or offered to go to the house, get him and take him for a walk
-stayed with me in surgical waiting rooms, brought me coffee, laughed with me, and kept me from worrying myself to death.
-offered health and nutritional advice and expertise
-bought us tickets to see Disney on Ice, the Princess Edition just because they knew we'd love it!
-picked Leah up from a variety of places (the babysitter's, someone else's house, a doctor's office, the nursing home) and took her to wherever she needed to be next
-think of us in so many moments and call to ask how we are, what we need or if they can help
-got on their hands and knees and scrubbed the kitchen floor and then had to do it again after Leah spilled something on it.
-And...most importantly...never once made us feel like we have been asking for too much.

I honestly believe that if we had not had these amazing people in our lives during what has become our most challenging time, that we would not have survived it all. Thank you so much to each and every one of you for always being there for us. You'll never know how much it has meant to us!!

The Squeaky Chair (Also know as "Random Thoughts About My Mom"

2010-02-18T10:53:00.000-08:00

My mother's birthday was February 2. Yes, Groundhog Day. She would have been 64 this year if cancer had not ripped her out of our clenched hands 9 years ago.

For the first few years after her death, my sister, my father, and I would always make a point of talking to each other on her birthday...of course none of us actually thought any one of the others would forget...I think it was just a way for us to try to deal with the emotions of celebrating the birth of someone who is dead. It is a very strange transition...not one I ever imagined would be part of surviving her early death, not that I ever imagined any thing anywhere close to what the reality has been.

Right after she died, and probably for at least the subsequent two years, whenever I thought of her, the overwhelming emotional response was always sadness and anger. Regardless of the actual memory, the response was the same. The mental image I had of her was of the frail, thin, pale and "altered" person she'd become just before she died. Nothing at all like the strong, robust, funny woman who'd raised me.

Years 3 through 5 were a little easier. A very little. The sadness still accompanied the memories of her, but I learned how to stifle the impending torrent of tears and sobs, but only if I were in a place or time that would make myself and everyone else uncomfortable. Occasionally, a thought would come that didn't completely floor me but would, instead, drape a thin blanket of sadness around me. Heavy enough to effect me but not heavy enough to crumple me. My mental image of her started to shift a little and now the standard image was that of a photo I'd found in which she looked like "her".

Years 6 and 7 were challenging in entirely new ways since we were planning for Leah's arrival and then enjoying her babyhood. It was a bitter sweet time. We were so happy to have become parents that we seemed giddy at times. Occasionally the giddiness would trigger my guilt and remind me that I shouldn't be TOO happy since mom couldn't be here to enjoy it. I think I thought about her more those 2 years than the previous ones because suddenly I had something in common with her and finally began to understand so many of the challenging points of our own mother/daughter relationship. It was an amazing feeling, but I felt unable to fully experience it since I was not able to look her in the eye and say "I get, Mom. I GET it." The mental image here became a bit fuzzy since I could not picture her holding Leah or interacting with Leah or loving Leah...therefore, I couldn't even conjure an image that would suffice.

And now...well. What about now? The current phase of grief seems to be fear and shame based. There are actually times now when I can't remember her face or her voice and I am so ashamed that my heart seems to be letting her go. The fear comes when I start thinking..."Oh My God! If I can't remember some of her now, what is going to happen 10 years from now...will I remember anything at all?"

For example, I remember that my father always sat in a certain chair at the kitchen table (the one closest to the phone) and my mother always sat in the chair to his left. It was "her chair" and it had a very interesting attribute. It was squeaky. You wouldn't notice in the day to day happenings since people just sat in it. But, if you were lucky enough to be in the room when my mother started laughing, you'd be witness to something very strange in deed. You see, when my mother got to laughing, it was common knowledge that if you got her going hard enough, she would eventually laugh so hard that it became silent. Her whole body would be vibrating with the laugh but her vocal chords couldn't keep up and all you'd hear was that squeaky chair. Even if I hadn't heard what led to the hysteria, I'd join right in...it was infectious.

But here comes the hard part. I can describe the scene and remember it to some detail. Sometimes I can even see the sun catchers in the window, a knick-knack on the window sill, the repaired bullet hole in the wall (from the previous owners). What sucks is that I can't really feel it. I can't remember what the laugh sounded like before it disappeared. I can't remember her voice, I can't remember her demeanor. There is a place in my heart where she will always be but it almost feels like it is shrinking or like it is becoming incapable of holding everything. It sometimes makes me so sad that I can't think straight. And, inevitably, I fast forward to the day of my own death and start wondering what it will be like for Leah since she has a very good chance of living longer than I do. I know its a terrible place to go, but I can't help it and my mind wanders.

If I had a genie in a bottle, I'd wish for 10 more minutes with her. I'd find that same squeaky chair for her to sit in. I'd tell joke ofter joke and get the laughing started and I'd videotape it so that I could see her and hear her anytime I wanted...forever.

Man, Am I in Trouble!!

2010-02-16T07:39:00.000-08:00

These pictures were taken in a bathroom stall at the HSBC arena during the intermission of Disney Princesses On Ice. Apparently the static electricity was enhanced by the close quarters and her hair rubbing against the walls. They have nothing, really, to do with this post but I thought they were too funny not to share!

Last night, Leah was being a little wacky. She had just done something "bad", which I can't even remember now, and I was on my way out of the living room into the kitchen. Whatever it was made me stop in my tracks, turn on my heels, and say "Hey! Wait Just a Minute, Missy, That's Not Nice."

As I was saying this, I switched to my "mad mommy" voice, slapped a grimace on my face and squarely set my hands on my hips. All, of course, in an attempt to convey the message to Leah that I meant business, and that she'd better listen to me and straighten up her act.

As I began to loudly explain to her the error of her ways, she started mimicking me. She screwed up her face, let out a long, low "MAHmeeeee" and then, in a perfect mirror image, planted her hands on her hips as well.

I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh! She caught me off guard in one of those moments when her true personality was shining through and I couldn't help but be surprised and pleased at how much she is really becoming herself.

Of course, I didn't want my chance to discipline her to pass, so I quickly looked at her again and declared "Hey! It's Not Funny! I'm serious now!".

When she looked at me again and smiled with a devilish grin it was all over. I couldn't bring myself to be stern with her anymore. I laughed and rolled my eyes and looked at Ryan with one of those "Oh My God, what have we gotten ourselves into" kind of unspoken looks. I kept laughing and walked into the kitchen shaking my head.

Never mind the fact that Leah looks alot like me, especially when you see pictures of her and me at the same age side by side...there is no denying that that little girl is SOOOOOOO my kid!

Easy, Sister!

2010-02-01T18:59:00.000-08:00

I don't know when it happened or even who I picked it up from, but somewhere along the line, I started referring to the women in my life as "Sister". It seems to come really naturally to me.

Well, as luck would have it....Leah has picked it up from me. It makes perfect sense, really. When she is misbehaving I start the conversation by saying "Listen, sister!". When I come home from work in the evening, she'll greet me at the door and I'll say "How was your day, sister!". I'm sure there are lots of times i say it that I don't even realize.

A few days ago, Ryan was upstairs cleaning and he asked Leah to go get him some things. Apparently, when she brought him the things he asked for, handed them to him and said "Have at it, Sister!".

Ha!

I LOVE IT!

When Did We Forget How To Pretend?

2010-01-23T15:34:00.000-08:00

Well, I guess the better question would be when did I forget how to pretend? It seems to come naturally to Leah, who has been everything from a 3 year old girl to a baby kangaroo to a top notch baker making amazing cupcakes for the masses....all just in the matter of a couple of hours of play.

It also seems to come naturally to my husband who just transformed himself from a Lion to an Elephant to a Kangaroo in a matter of minutes....all at the whim of his daughter who seems completely entranced by any and all animals noises he invented.

But, for me, it takes effort. Leah came to me today and said "Want some hot chocolate mama?" and I said "Oh, I'm sorry, honey, but we don't have any!"

She looked at me, cocked her head, dramatically put her hand on her hip, sighed deeply and said "Mama.... P R E T E N D hot chocolate.....and then rolled her eyes.

"OH! Right!" I said, and then drank the best cup of hot chocolate I've ever had!

It made me think, for a minute, about the importancee of the imagination. When you live in a reality in which you can magically create whatever you want at the drop of the hat, life is pretty good!

It never ceases to amaze me about how much a person who has only been on this planet for 3.5 years seems to know so much more about life than I do! Thank god I have many more years to learn from her!

The Teen Years Are Going to Be....Trying

2010-01-22T06:14:00.001-08:00

Ryan and I were sitting in the living room the other night, watching a little TV before bed. Leah had been "put to bed" more than an hour before, yet, there seemed to be quite a lot of thumping and bumping coming from her room. Every few minutes, I'd mute the TV to listen for signs of life after louder bumps that sounded as if they could have been painful. There would always be something going on so we new that she was alright. Besides, Rusty was with her, so chances are he would let us know if something was really wrong.

Anyway...a few moments of silence had passed when, suddenly, a VERY loud THUD caused some concern. I muted the TV again, listened, moved to the edge of my seat, listened a little harder and just when I was about to get up and run full boar up the stairs to check things out, we heard her bedroom door open. We called out, "Leah! Are you okay?" Timidly she said "Yes, mama"... "I'm okay." She walked closer to the stairs and called down "My butterflies fell down!"
(There is a purple butterfly mobile that hangs from a ceiling hook above her bed.

"Oh, are they okay?" I asked. "Yup, they're okay!" she said. By now, she was halfway down the stairs, holding the tangled mess of butterflies in her hand, wide eyed. Suddenly, the incident didn't seem so innocent, so I probed for more information.

"Leah? Why did the butterflies fall down?", I asked...suspiciously. I could see just the top of her head on the stairs....she is still not quite tall enough to clear the banister.

She peeked over the banister on tip toe and with that menacing smile I have come to both love and hate she said, as casually as if we were just discussing the weather....

"Well....the butterflies fell down because I was swinging on them and then I they fell and I fell and I hit the floor!"

Heaven help me.

My Baby Girl is Growing Up

2010-01-20T06:38:00.000-08:00

Leah is 3 and 1/2 years old, at least chronologically. From the day she was born people often made comments about how she always seemed so much older. Even at 5 weeks, I remember bringing her in to work to visit my co-workers and everyone was mesmerized by how much she seemed to take in. By how much she seemed to notice things. More than one person over the years has looked at her and said "she's an old soul".

There are, I suppose, a variety of theories about this. I tend to believe in re-incarnation and there have been times when I would have bet my life that my mother had come back through her own grand daughter. I've even thought that maybe she was someone I had never known but who had definitely been here before.

As she grows older, I'm feeling more and more that she is just.... Leah. She surprises me almost daily with her pranks and her jokes and her bursts of emotions. There is truly nothing better than seeing her hurtling her way towards me when I come in the door after a day at work....if you are anywhere between me and her when this happens, WATCH OUT...you will be knocked down!

She is becoming quite the prankster which I am sure comes as little to no surprise to anyone who knows Ryan and me. A few nights ago, I awoke for my middle of the night pee (which I had hoped would leave me after I had Leah, but never did). Leah woke up, too. We both felt a little dazed and were just sitting up in bed. Finally, she looked at me and said "What are you doing mama?" "I'm going to go to the bathroom" I said, yawning. I rubbed my eyes for a few minutes, finally got up and walked down the hall. When I got to the bathroom, she was already in there, lights on and sitting on the toilet. I was a little shocked because I had never actually seen her leave the bedroom. When I looked at her, she smirked and said "I tricked you, mama!" and laughed with delight.

She and I had fallen asleep on the couch one night. She likes to sleep in "The Garage". This is that small open place behind your knees when you are laying down and your knees are bent just enough to make some room. Ryan calls it "The Garage". When I woke up in the morning I did my best to get off the couch without disturbing her, which was pointless because she had become so intertwined between the blankets and my legs that I did not succeed. She rolled over, stretched her arms, yawned a bit, then looked at me with a smile and said "Mornin' Mama!". Had anyone dared to wake me up in this fashion, they probably would have lost an arm! (I realized just a few days ago that I used to cuddle up with my mother on the couch in the same way, I think I even have a picture of us lying together like that).

We have become crafting buddies. I have a whole slew of scrap booking type supplies that I haven't really used much of until the last few weeks and Leah has become addicted to! The first time she used some of my rubber stamps I showed her how to clean them off before putting them back away and now she does it on her own, without me having to remind her.

She is one million percent in love with "her friends". This is how she refers to my sister's 4 children. We are going to visit them and Poppie the first week of February. Every night when I get home from work, she asks me to count the days with her on the calendar until we will see them again. Regardless of the number at the end of the counting, she yells "YIPPEE" and claps her hands and does a little dance. Almost unable to contain herself with the excitement.

She is such a mix of me and Ryan that it cracks me up. She has always been independent which drives Ryan nuts. He keeps saying "Leah, you know, it is OKAY to ask for HELP. You don't have to do EVERYTHING by yourself!" (in the background, I am silently beaming, thinking "THAT'S MY GIRL!") Don't get me wrong, I like to help her, too, but I definitely get a smile on my face when I see her determination take her places that she wants to go.)

And she is a complete and total love bug. We visited grandma and grandpa last night. We were watching the "Bill Cosby, Himself" video in the living room and Leah was watching "Bambi" in the kitchen. Every few minutes, she would hurl herself from the kitchen into the living room, jump up on the couch, plant a kiss on someones cheek or forehead or arm or whatever part she could get to fastest and then run back to the kitchen. Her hugs and her kisses and her warm "I love you, mama"s choke me up every time.

And...the best thing that has happened of late is that she likes to sing. She makes up little songs about everything. The songs are usually long and kind of awkward, but she sings them with such relish you can't help but enjoy them. She sings about her day, about the toys she is playing with, about the visits to friends that are coming, about the snow falling down and landing on her outstretched tongue. My favorite part is that she doesn't do it as a performance, it is just her expressing herself. If she is caught in the act, she'll ham it up a little and then give a little bow at the end, but it is clear that she sings for herself and has no concern about what people might think who catch her in the act.

She is only 3 and 1/2 but she has amazed me every single one of those 12,775 days. I can't imagine what she'll show me next, and I am so excited to find out!

A Shout Out to Mercy Hospital

2010-01-14T08:03:00.001-08:00

I received the strangest phone call in my life this morning. A woman by the name of Michelle Blackburn, a patient representative from Mercy Hospital called to discuss my experiences there. This is not weird. Most hospitals send a survey form or something of the like after hospital stays.

The weird part is this: She was calling because she or someone in her department had found and read my blog entry about my hospital experience! Seems her department conducts regular Internet searches to see if Mercy Hospital is mentioned!!!! This is something I NEVER expected!

She was extremely polite, helpful, and seemed genuinely interested in hearing about my visit to the hospital. She apologized for the frustrations I experienced (most of which were not really anything that could be helped in the moment) and ensured me that the Emergency Room at Mercy is undergoing some renovations and changes and that soon there will be more staff and better accommodations. This is great news.

So, Michelle, if you're reading this, thanks for your call and your kind words. Mercy just moved up a few notches on my list! ;)

My Very Merry MRSA New Year

2010-01-11T09:04:00.000-08:00

Well 2010 decided to welcome itself into my life with a BANG!

On New Year's Eve, I noticed a small "something" on my foot that was bothersome. I took note of it, but not much of a note since it seemed pretty innocuous. I went to our New Year's Eve party and enjoyed myself and didn't think much of it.

By the morning of New Year's Day, I was singing a different tune. The "something" on my foot had definitely become bigger and painful and larger. By the end of the day I was in so much pain that I couldn't find any relief. Child birth was painful....but at least there was some relief. The contractions came and went and I could at least catch my breath in between. This pain, however, had no end. No matter how I sat, laid, stood, moved, I could not find a place to put my foot that gave me any kind of relief. It throbbed and ached and burned. I cried and yelled and moaned. It was NOT pretty. By the evening, the tiny sore that had begun the day before had spread across the bottom of my foot and over the edge to the top of my foot. When the redness and swelling began to spread over the top of my foot, to the ER we went.

We chose the ER at the Mercy Ambulatory Care Center since it was basically closest. But, since it is not attached to a hospital, there was no chance for immediate admission. We arrived at the ER at about 8pm. By 2am, I'd received a pain pill (praise God) and a dose of IV antibiotics. At that point, the wound remained closed, so there was nothing to culture and therefore nothing to identify the source of the infection. Despite my cries of "ITS MRSA DAMNIT!!", little could be done to treat me for what would become something much worse....I was sent home with a generic prescription for antibiotic, a Sharpie marker line across the top of my foot to keep track of if/when the infection were to continue to spread, and instructions to give the antibiotics 2 days to work and to return to the ER if things worsened.

On Monday, 1/4/10 I saw my primary care doctor who took one look at my foot, picked her chin up off the floor, and sent me running back to the ER. She assured me that it "did not look good" (no shit) and that I should prepare to be admitted. I arrived at the ER, this time at Mercy Hospital, at 5:00pm. I was triage-d and registered and then left to wait. At 8:30pm, when no one had seen me yet, the triage nurse checked my vitals and offered her apologies for my prolonged wait for care. It seems that a post-new year's influx of car accidents had collided with an unexpected list of staff that had called in sick and therefore, unless your heart had literally exploded, it would be "hours" before one could expect to be seen. At 10:30pm, I was called behind the ER doors and placed, precariously, in a stretcher in the hallway underneath a temporary computer printed sign that read "Ambulance 10". At best, a makeshift place to be examined. At worst, a horrifically non-private spot in which to endure more hours of pain and un-treated worry. With each hour that passed, I watched as my foot got hotter and redder and bigger and the infection spread past the Sharpie line from the first visit, 6 inches up my leg, across my foot, completely encompassing my foot and ankle.

Occasionally, a nurse would "pop by" and ask how I was doing. Mercifully, after my repeated requests for pain relief, I was given a pain pill and then an IV (which was hung from a hook on the rod above my hallway bed that was intended to hold a shower curtain) of fluids.

Finally, at 2:00am, after hours of listening to other patients yelling, vomiting, screaming, moaning, being seen by medical professionals, Dr. Cornell graced me with her presence for about 5 minutes, in which she looked at my foot, ordered IV antibiotics, and admitted me to the hospital. At 6:00am on 1/5/10 I was transported to the sixth floor and, mercifully, to a "real" bed. After a few hours of admissions questions, registrations, medical histories, my continued speeches about our MRSA-cursed family, blood draws, vitals checks, more IV antibiotics and more pain meds I felt comfortable enough to sleep.

Every medical professional that came anywhere near me over the next few days heard the story about our MRSA-colored past. Leah's MRSA infection at 15 months old that hospitalized her at Albany Med for a week and her follow-up infections of the same. Ryan's MRSA infection that went all the way to the bone after his leg surgery and hospitalized him for 10 days at Erie County Medical Center. Despite the stories and the warnings and the considerable knowledge I offered, I was stopped with shaking heads and "Oh, I don't think so....it looks more like strep" (this particular gem from the Infectious Diseases Doctor).

Eventually, on Wednesday 1/6 they had gotten preliminary results that it was Staph Aureus, even then, the ID doc still denied that it could be MRSA. The next day, when my room-mate was removed and suddenly the nurses entered the room in gowns, gloves, and masks, I said "So, I see the sensitivities are back and it is MRSA after all?" Would it have hurt even one person to have said "Oh, yes...you were right after all!" No such luck for me!

So, after days of IV Vancomycin and daily blood draws at 5am, I was released to the world with Oral Clindamycin on Saturday, January 9 at 11:30am...all evidence of the deadly intruder gone, except for a small cut on my little toe.

And, today, I am back at my desk at work, which was beautifully adorned by Welcome Back Flowers. Thank god for "normal" life. I never thought I'd feel so anxious to return to work....but I am SO GLAD to be here and even more glad to be ALIVE!

The moral of the story is....if you have even the slightest inclination that you have an infection, get to the doctor or hospital ASAP and stand up for yourself! You know your body and your medical history better than anyone else...make sure the doctors know it!

A Very Merry Christmas Weekend

2009-12-06T19:23:00.000-08:00

This weekend, Ryan's sister Pat, who lives in Florida, is in town visiting for a few days so we are trying to fit in as much family fun holiday time as possible. Saturday morning, we started by attending the Christmas Carnival at Chestnut Ridge Park. We drank hot chocolate, nibbled cookies, colored Christmas pictures, tried every bribe on the planet to get Leah to sit with Santa (with no success) and took a very frigid hayride!

Santa Leah and Aunt Linda Elf:

Linda and Leah riding the sleigh:

Daddy and his Little Girl:

Grandma Virginia, Aunt Pat, Aunt Linda and Leah:
(Yes, Leah is wearing one pink glove and one purple glove!)

Next on the agenda? A trip to the Botanical Gardens. This time of year they display more poinsettia plants than you have ever seen in one place!

Leah has started "hiding" when I take the camera out:

Leah took this picture: (Uncle Lee, Aunt Pat, Aunt Linda, Aunt Traci & Daddy)

There was also a model train running through the plants...it was set up as a wild west town:
Some manicured plants:

And the most AMAZING orchids:

In the "Main Dome" of the Gardens they also had a Christmas Light Show set to music...we were all feeling VERY Christmasy! After the gardens we ate a complete turkey dinner lovingly prepared by Virginia.

All in all, another Norman Rockwell day!

Where does this stuff come from?

2009-12-02T09:14:00.000-08:00

Last night I was straightening up in the living room when I came across a small gift bag sitting on the bottom shelf of a coffee table. This is what was inside:

A GPS, its cord and mount
A lip gloss
A rock
A green kids fork
an empty glasses case
ryan's keys
ryan's wallet
a battery
a grocery list (with all items crossed off)
one earring
a pony tail holder

None of us remember ever having put anything in this bag...but all the things inside are stuff we own...

Maybe we have a really tidy ghost?

Or, wait...maybe an inquisitive 3 year old?

Its Beginning to Look A Lot Like Christmas!

2009-12-01T10:16:00.000-08:00

This morning we awoke to a ground cover of pure white snow! This is the first time in a long time that I was actually looking forward to it. It seems like summer and fall kind of blended into one long season of not bad weather so when it finally got cold enough for snow, it really felt like a change in season.

I woke Leah up with a gentle nudge and a soft "Leah! Wake up sweety! It's snowing outside!" She moved a little, yawned a bit and then as one eye opened said "OH....now it is REALLY like Christmas Time!" By the time she finished that sentence, the other eye was open and she had jumped into my arms! As we stood together looking out the window, she said "Yay! Now we can make snowflakes and walk through the snow! Its really REALLY Christmas time!"

She was so excited that she repeated herself about 30 times as she walked down the stairs to tell daddy...the first thing she wanted to do was go outside to see if it was cold. She walked out onto the deck with bare feet...shivered...returned inside and said "Yup! Its Christmas time!".

A Norman Rockwell Day

2009-11-28T18:03:00.000-08:00

Today we ventured out in the cold to watch the Hamburg Village Holiday Parade. We found a great viewing spot on the curb close to the action. We saw Girl Scout Troops, Boy Scout Troops, Mounted Police and Karate Students, some of which were just 3 years old. And, of course, my favorite, the Marching Band! There is just something about those banging drums that make me want to get up and dance. Leah loved the music, too...and, of course, loved the candy throwers. Although, it does seem sort of cruel watching all these little kids trying to pick up candy with mitten hands!

After the parade, we returned home and decorated the house for Christmas. We hung the stockings, laid out the nativity (which my father made when he was 13!), hung the lights, listened to Christmas music and drank steaming mugs of Holiday Spice tea.

Ryan and I were both surprised at all the Christmas things we have that we had completely forgotten about! Leah was enthralled with the Christmas ornaments and set about placing most of them in about a 1 square foot space on the bottom of the tree. She also enjoyed "decorating" the rest of the house. On the handle of the drawer in the end table, she hung a bright blue star. From the wrought-iron rays of a sun shaped candle holder hung one of her baby's first christmas ornaments. Upstairs on the door knob of the linen closet was a blue tin ornament that was once filled with chocolate. She even decided that the vacuum could use some holiday cheer! Here she is, hanging one from a tiny shelf on the wall behind the couch.

And now here we are, sitting back and soaking in the holiday cheer and warmth of the lights. A perfect scene for a Norman Rockwell painting!

Welcome Home!

2009-11-08T20:32:00.000-08:00

While Ryan was in the hospital, his sister Claudia offered to take care of Leah at her house until we were back home after the surgery. So, for the first time since she came into our lives, Leah slept overnight somewhere else for 5 nights! While I missed her more than I thought possible, I am sure, now that it is over, that I could NOT have taken care of her and Ryan without losing my mind! Knowing that she was being well cared for in a house full of love set my mind at ease and allowed me to focus on Ryan and getting him settled at home and on the road to recovery.

But, man did I miss her!

She came home this afternoon and came running down the driveway screaming! Ryan was sitting on the deck with his brother and I was inside. I could hear her and Ryan both yelling and hugging and carrying on. I ran out the back door, and before I even knew what happened, she was in my arms and hugging me hard. She kept looking at me, sort of in disbelief, and then hugging me all over again. With each embrace, she kicked her legs, and rubbed her hands on my back saying "I'm so glad you came home!".

She gave Rusty an equally heartfelt hello, throwing her arms around his neck and burying her face into his fur, crooning "Rusty Boy, my Rusty Boy!!".

She danced and jumped up and down and wiggled her tush for what seemed like an hour straight. She was SO happy to be home! Every single thing we said or showed her was like she had just opened her absolute all time favorite Christmas present on Christmas morning. Her excitement and relief to be back home with mommy, daddy, rusty, her back yard, her playhouse and her room was so strong that she was almost trembling with it!

For some reason, it never occurred to me that she would have missed home and Ryan and I so much. The day that Claudia had picked her up, she couldn't get out the door fast enough! When I called to talk to her, she was too busy to come to the phone. Her reaction to coming back home absolutely THRILLED me since I was just as excited as she was to have my family back together again. It wouldn't be until a little later that I found out just how much she did miss me...

After things had settled down a bit, Leah came to me and gave me another sweet, soft, long hug. Then she looked at me, with a hint of something in her eyes that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

After a few moments of silent hugging, she slowly and softly, said "I forgive you, Mama", smiled innocently and hugged me yet again.

Startled, and a little concerned, I asked "What do you forgive me for? "

She looked again, with those sweet sad eyes and said something that sounded like "For being mean to me".

My throat closed a little and my eyes began to burn. I started frantically replaying the last few weeks in my mind, trying to remember what I might have said or done.

Was it that time that I had tossed one of her My Little Pony toys in the garbage for not picking up her toys before going to bed?

Had I inadvertantly hurt her feelings by telling her I couldn't play with her because I had too much work to do?

Or, God forbid, did she still remember the swat on the behind a few weeks ago, something I have only done a handful of times?

I said "For being mean to you? Oh, honey, what did I do that was mean?"

Nodding ever so slightly and leaning into me for another hug, she says "No...not mean to me...For leaving me....but its okay because you saved me, too!"

The tears came in earnest this time.

"Oh, honey" I said "did you think that you were going to stay at Aunt Claudia's forever and that I wasn't going to bring you home?"

"Yes", she whispered, squeezing me tighter, burying her face a little deeper into my chest.

What a horrible feeling! To think that she, for even a single second, thought that I had abandoned her!

No words came to me right away, and I couldn't have spoken them anyway because of the lump in my throat, so I simply hugged her as tight as I could and started rocking her like I used to when she was a baby.

Choked with tears, I scratched out a "Oh, honey! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! I would NEVER EVER EVER LEAVE YOU!" and just kept hugging for all I was worth.

And then, for the rest of the day, I found as many chances as I could to grab her, hug her, and remind her how important she is to me and that she can ALWAYS count on me.

Always!

Happy Hallow-Wedding!!

2009-11-01T14:09:00.000-08:00

Leah, Ryan and I just got back from a fabulous weekend! Our dear friends, Jess and Eli, got married this weekend. Eli is a member of the Seneca Nation so their wedding was at the Seneca Allegany Casino in Salamanca, NY. The place is gorgeous! You can't help but feeling like a millionaire when you walk in!

We headed out to the hotel on Friday afternoon. We got there just in time for the rehearsal dinner. Ryan, in case I hadn't metioned it before, became ordained online so that he could perform the ceremony. He did a really great job and the whole affair was just fun and fabulous and wonderful....can't say enough about it! Here are some pics:

We are blessed to have such wonderful friends!

A Walk Down Memory Lane

2009-10-26T11:58:00.001-07:00

I just spent some time reading some of my older posts. A little more than a year ago, Ryan was in a nursing home after he'd been discharged from the hospital. This is what a day in my life looked like a year ago:

7:00am. Get up. Go downstairs, get scooter and bring up stairs. Get Ryan up, and wait while he uses the urinal. Empty urinal. Get Ryan to bathroom and get him into shower on shower chair. Wrap up leg with plastic to keep it dry. Help him get cleaned up, the washed and dressed. I have to put on his underwear, his socks, he shorts, his t-shirt. Go downstairs,get Ryan's IV started. Get myself showered, dressed. Get Leah dressed. Pack lunches. Feed Rusty. Let Rusty Out. Empty Ryan's urinal (again). Get as many things as possible as close to Ryan as possible so when he needs something during the day he can reach it without having to get up. Turn off IV and remove tubing and such. Get Leah dressed and lunch packed.

8:00am. Leave the house. Drop Leah off at sitter's.

9:00am - 4:00pm Work.

4:30pm - Pick Leah Up from daycare. Go home, Ryan is asleep...has been most of the day. Empty Ryan's urinal. Make dinner, clean kitchen, start Ryan's IV. Clean up, do laundry, let Rusty out, feed Rusty, finish Ryan's IV. Get Leah's bath, help get Ryan to bed. Give Leah a bath, put her to bed, let rusty in, lock up, go to bed.

This was what this past Friday looked like:

5:00 am - Ryan got up by himself. Put on pneumatic pump for 2 hour treatment.

7:00 - Leah is up and downstairs and helping daddy make breakfast.

8:30am - Woke up because Leah is yelling: "MOMMMMYY! Wake up! It's time for BREAKFAST!!!" Eat delicious breakfast. Shower, get dressed, go to work.

9:30 - 5:00 Work

5:30 - Got Home. Ryan and Leah had cleaned the downstairs and made dinner.

6:00 Ate dinner.

6:30 cleaned kitchen.

7:00 - 10:00 watched movies and talked while Ryan did his second treatment.

10:30 - Went to bed!

Wow...what a difference a year can make!

Okay Okay...I hear you!

2009-10-23T12:07:00.000-07:00

A very regular part of my multitude of weight loss attempts over the years has been jumping on the "gym" membership bandwagon. The Y, Golds Gym, Curves, the local no-name place a mile from our old apartment in Rensselear. With each one, the story was always the same. I'd go to visit the place, get all excited by the healthy, happy people working out. I'd think "wow! this is great! You can even see a personal trainer!" And for a week or two or maybe even a month, I'd go regularly. But by the 6 week mark, or so, I'd have stopped going, stopped talking about it...basically just given up because a couple of visits to that place after years of no regular exercise did not help me look anything like those healthy people I'd see on the tour.

That's where the excuses would come in. Its too expensive! Its too far away! Those people are always looking at me laughing! That's it! I'm cancelling my membership!

Interestingly enough, the company I now work for offers their employees use of an on-site exercise room completely furnished with an elliptical machine, a treadmill, an exercise bike, a full set of free weights, a work out ball and even a tv/dvd combo to watch while working out. There is even a shower a couple doors down from that room. It is an excellent and, I think, very considerate benefit.

My typical list of excuses didn't quite work in this situation. It certainly wasn't expensive since there is no charge for employees to use it. I can't justify the "its too far away" argument because the room sits, literally...I swear I am not kidding, 10 feet from my desk.

But, before I got myself worked up thinking that I was going to have to use that damn room, I was still able to squeak through the "All those people are looking at me!" loophole. Alas, the room has huge windows on 2 of its 4 walls and anyone coming in to work for the day would see me in there, sweating and cursing and battling the bulge. No thanks!

Phew! Just scraped by on that one.

But then, probably more than a year ago now, blinds were installed, at someone else's self-conscious request, in the windows. The day I saw the windows being measured, the devil on my shoulder immediately began concocting new reasons for why I can't use that room. "Yeah, sure" he sneered, "the windows are covered but what about that big gaping hole where a door should be? Anyone coming out of the stair well will be staring right at you!"

Wow! Saved again...just by the skin of my teeth. Thank God!

In an ironic twist of fate, however, I found out today that the equipment is being moved.

To a room with no windows.

To a room with a wooden, close-able door with no window.

To a room even closer to my office.

So close, in fact, that I will forever be seeing it in my peripheral vision and will stand face to face with it each and every time I walk out of my office....

Hmmm.

Think someones trying to tell me something?

A Day in My "Normal Weight" Life

2009-10-21T09:08:00.000-07:00

I have read and heard a million times over the years that a key part of real and maintainable weight loss is that the person wishing to lose weight must be able to envision themselves at a normal weight. I just completed an exercise in that regard. The instructions were to "Write a description of your new life. What is it like now that you have achieved your ideal weight? How do you feel?"

I wake up each morning feeling refreshed and energized. When I get out of bed it is without back, leg, or ankle pain. When I pass a mirror, I stop and look at myself and say "I love you" with true sincerity. I have a variety of nice, flattering clothes to choose from in my closet.

I easily and automatically prepare a healthy breakfast and pack a healthy lunch. My ride to work is pleasant, regardless of weather conditions or other drivers. I park the car and get out easily, with little effort. I walk from my car to the building with a clear mind and complete confidence in my physical, emotional and spiritual selves. When I see co-workers, I greet them with genuine interest. They see me as a kind, capable, intelligent, and healthy woman. They are proud to call me friend.

The day passes smoothly and effortlessly and when I get up from my desk my legs are strong and sure and lift me up soundly without pain. My work is completed on time with high quality.

When I return home in the evening, I greet my family with love and warm hugs. I ask them about their day and listen intently to all they have to say. I easily and effortlessly prepare a delicious and healthy meal that we eat together at our dining room table. We share our highs and lows for the day. We laugh, listen, share, and love.

After dinner I gratefully and graciously clear the table and clean the kitchen. When I turn off the light I say a prayer of thanks for all I have been given. I spend the next few hours with my family watching TV, coloring, painting, reading, playing games. When I have time to relax, I automatically choose activities that support and enhance my health and my commitment to becoming my best self. It has become habit for me to meditate, read, visualize or cleanse my body. Throughout the day, my thirst and hunger are met with healthy foods and I find time to exercise, no matter where I am.

Before I go to bed each night, I pray and show gratitude for my blessings and ask God to continue to provide me with strength and courage to follow his path for me to my best self and I remember that the journey is more important than the destination. My dreams are filled with beautiful images and communications with loved ones passed. I awake every day refreshed, strong, and courageous.

If I stumble or have trouble dealing with my emotions, I remind myself that I still deserve health and happiness. I remember that the only time I have is now and that I can change the course of the day whenever I so choose.

I am loving and supportive of myself and others. I speak in a tone of voice that is caring and soothing. I am able to understand why someone might direct their anger at me, even though I don't deserve it. I give everyone the benefit of the doubt and always look for the best in every person, every situation, and every trial. I rest assured every night that the majority of the choices I have made are good and healthy and that the only thing I can do about a bad choice is to learn from it.

My life at a normal weight is full, happy, exciting, and challenging and I commit myself to keeping it that way.

Some More Cute Little Sayings

2009-10-13T19:37:00.000-07:00

In an effort to capture some of Leah's cuter moments before they disappear and are forgotten, I thought I'd share hear a couple of things...

You probably know that Ryan and I are very much "dog people". We treat Rusty more like a part of our family than simply a pet. Therefore, over the years, we have each developed a voice that we use when we think Rusty would like to communicate something. I'm sure it looks weird to outsiders, but human-dog conversations are quite normal around here.

Ryan was talking to Rusty one day last week and Leah went to him and said "Daddy? Rusty can't talk!" and of course Ryan said "well sure he can! Listen:" and went on about impersonating him to the best of his ability. Leah was sure she knew better. "Daddy!" she said. "Don't be silly! Rusty can't talk...he Rustles."

Just this evening, I was using Leah's scissors with the blunt ends (since not one of the approximately 4.25 kazillion pairs of grownup scissors I've purchased over the years can be found) to cut off a bandage from Ryan's leg.

Now, this is one of those moments where I realized almost immediately that something I'd told Leah in the past about behavior and sharing and politeness was about to come back to bite me in the ass since I had taken the scissors without asking her first.

She came to me and said "MOMMY! Those are MY scissors!". I said "Oh, I know honey! I forgot to ask you if I can use them...is it okay?"

She beamed from ear to ear and said "Of course you can mommy!" and then patted me on the hand and walked away.

One of the pieces of medical equipment Ryan is using is a bone stimulator. Last night we had decided to go visit Ryan's parents for a few hours, so he needed to bring it with him. His hands were full, however, so I asked Leah if she could be a good helper and take it to him. Of course, she agreed because she does love to help! She took it from my hands and after getting it adjusted in such away in her little hands that would not end up strangling her, she walked out the front door, across the driveway, and handed it to Ryan while saying "Here you go daddy. Here is your bone stimulator" and then preceded to buckle herself into her car seat. You would have thought that she'd been saying that word every day. She pronounced it perfectly!

Ryan's mother has a cousin who's first name is Coonygunda (no clue if this is spelled anywhere near correctly, but it is pronounced COO-NEE-GOON-DUH). Virginia has mentioned her to me once or twice and of course I always say "Really? That's her name? Her first name?" and we giggle and then go on about our business. Then one day when I was picking Leah up from grandma's, I went in side and asked "Is there anyone here named Leah who'd like to go home with me?" She ran over to me and said "I'd like to go home with you but I can't because MY name is Coonygunda!!"

When she was still in diapers, Leah stayed with Grandma one day a week. Although Ryan's parents are 100% German, they don't speak German fluently but will occasionally throw out a random German saying. One day I was changing Leah out of a pretty nasty diaper, and as I pulled the diaper out from under her, she said "Ach de leiber!". I didn't understand so I asked it again and she repeated and then added "That's what Grandma says!". So, I called Virg to ask what it meant and found out that she would exclaim that saying during diaper changing and it means something like "Yuck! That stinks!" (or maybe nothing at all like that, but an exclamation nonetheless". I'm pretty sure I laughed so hard I cried.

My favorite, of course, which I can't remember if I posted her yet or not, was the other day when she came downstairs while I was getting ready for work, ran over to me, jumped into my lap, pulled by face close to hers and said "Mommy? I'm so glad you came into my life!"...
what more could a mother ask for.

(Oh, and by the way...when she is 15 and screaming at the top of her lungs that she hates me and I am ruining her life, could you please point me in the direction of this post so I can reminisce?)

Which Witch is Which?

2009-10-08T12:49:00.000-07:00

Leah and I were coloring last night and decided to make some halloween themed cards. I have a bunch of stencils, so I was showing Leah how to put the pen inside and draw the lines. It was a lot of fun...and one of those things that I probably don't do with her often enough!

Anyway...there were four different stenils. A skeleton, a jack-o-lantern, a ghost and a witch.

We were each going on about our business. She was tracing a pumpking and I had chosen the witch.

She looked up from her coloring just as I was pullng the stencil off the page to see the finished picture. As she saw it, she gasped and said:

"Mommy! You did the switch! Good job mommy! Switches are scary! They yell boo at you! i don't like switches!"

Could she be any more adorable? (For those of you that are fans of "Friends", the preceeding statement should be read using the same inflection that Chandler uses!)

The Mack Truck of Emotions (Beware..this is a little dark)

2009-09-25T20:48:00.000-07:00

In a few short weeks, it will have been 9 years since my mother died. In the first year after her death, I spent many hours, days, weeks, months...crying. It seemed as if each time I thought of her and then realized, over and over again, that she was gone (really, really gone) , the tremendous hurt and pain I felt when I found her that morning would hit me all over again and knock me down into the depths I never imagined existed. It continues to be the most important moment in my life, second only to the day Leah was born. The impact of that event was so violent that it literally turned me into someone else.

With each new day, more and more time would pass between each breakdown. Eventually, I was able to have thoughts of her that would bring a smile before the tears came. A few years into it, I was even blessed with being able to see potential reasons for it to happen. The most recent development in the grieving process has been sensing her presence without fear and even talking to her when I feel her around me. I have also gotten to the point where I might go days before realizing I hadn't thought of her, at all, that day. This almost always leads to guilt.

And then the grief took another turn when Leah was born. Now it included a soft, but very real, sadness that hit with each milestone. With every "first" I'd find myself thinking that I should call her and share the news...sometimes even reaching for the phone before realizing that I don't know her number anymore.

I was only 25 when she died (dear god...she was only 54!) Old enough that I could take care of myself and be an adult but yet young enough that her physical absence in my life would create turmoil for me because she would miss out on so many things that would contribute to the me I was to become.

And now, approaching the 9th anniversary, something new has developed...something that scares me a little. Something that can make me feel like I have failed as her daughter.

Relief.

Relief that I didn't have to bear the discontent that I'm sure would have come between us regarding the way I live my life and how I have chosen to raise Leah. Of course, there is no way to know for sure how she would have reacted since I can only base my assumption on her beliefs before she died, but we are very different people with very different ideals.

I believe in spirits and the ability to communicate with them. I believe in God and consider myself a spiritual person, but I chose to explore and even count some principles and/or practices of other, non-christian, beliefs as my own. I like to go to seances and have psychic medium readings. She not only disapproved of these things but made it clear that as her daughter, I should not participate in them.

There is a part of my heart labeled "Mother" that believes that regardless of our differences that she would still love me and eventually at least accept my choices . (Since I can imagine this happening between Leah and I.)

There is another part of my heart labeled "Daughter" that will always worry that I turned into someone other than what she would have liked or hoped for.

The most recent development in my grief are those "Mack Trucks of Emotions". The moments that catch me completely off guard and that seem to appear as if from nowhere but that hit so hard they knock me on my ass. For example, sitting at my desk at work yesterday, looking at something on line, it happened. Reading a seemingly innocent news article and...WHAM!!! Tears stream and sobs commence. And the pain is back....and, once again, I re-play her last few weeks, from the phone call to the funeral.

They say time heals all wounds. Guess its still got work to do.

Mama, I'm so proud of you!

2009-09-25T07:26:00.000-07:00

If you are reading this, you most likely know me well enough to know that I love to sing. I might even go so far as to say that I am damn good at it, too! It is something I have always loved but have also always been terrified of sharing. Maybe because I am a scientist by profession and have always received acceptance and approval based on my intellectual abilities that it is so hard to share another side of myself...especially one that is so closely tied to my emotions...a place that I rarely admit I have, let alone share or let anyone see.

However, I have also always had this fantasy of one day becoming a professional singer...touring the country and the world crooning my heart out. It is a fantasy for a lot of reasons. First and foremost being that I get paralyzing stage fright and rarely sing in front of people the way I sing when I am alone...

As luck would have it, I was on Craig's List the other day posting a few baby items for sale (Sorry Leah looks like you'll be an only child after all!) and somehow ended up stumbling across an ad for a music gig. The man who placed the ad plays in an acoustic duo on Tuesday nights and is looking for a replacement partner for the gig (which, by the way is a PAYING gig!). His request was for a female acoustic guitar playing singer. That's me! (well...guitar playing might be considered a stretch...i can strum and play some chords but Les Paul I am not). But, after explaining my limitations, I was still invited for an audition, which is to occur hopefully sometime this weekend.

Last night when I got home from work, I went right to the computer to look up some songs and lyrics and guitar tabs on-line to prepare. Leah, of course, wanted to know what I was doing. The conversation went something like this:

Leah: "Mommy? Whatcha doin'?"

Me: "I am looking up some songs to sing on the internet."

Leah: "why?" (if I had a magic genie and was granted one wish, it would be to remove this single word from Leah' vocabulary since it has become her favorite and most exasperating word of late).

Me: "Mommy might be singing some songs at a place every week and the man who needs a singing partner asked me to sing for him to see if he likes my voice."

Leah: "What man?"

Lyn: "His name is XXXX and he plays guitar and songs and needs someone to sing with him every Tuesday night. Would you like it if mommy went somewhere to sing every Tuesday?"

Leah: "Yes! That would be so fun! I should go there too!" (sentenced punctuated by a very demonstrative hug and a sigh).

Lyn: "So, now mommy has to practice some songs so that I can sound really nice and he will ask me to sing with him"

Leah: "Okay" (aforementioned excitement all but COMPLETELY vanished) and off she went in search of some other entertainment.

A few minutes later, she was back.

She stood up on her little step stool (which makes her almost as tall as i am when sitting....yikes!) and says, with no prompting from anyone (or maybe prompted by my mother who I like to think is around and pays attention to my life despite her being, you know....dead):

"Mama! You are doing such a good job! I'm so proud of you for practicing!"

One of those moments when I am simultaneously touched/proud/sad. Touch by her compassion. Proud of her kind heart (which I like to think I had something to do with). Sad because it is yet another piece of evidence that is piling up and proving that she IS growing up and will, someday, no longer need me.

I'll keep you posted about the audition!!

Priorities

2009-09-21T09:09:00.000-07:00

With our life having been in what sometimes feels like constant turmoil this last year, stress has been high and smiles few and far between. What with worrying about health problems, money, the economy, money, car problems, money, struggling to lose weight and, of course, did I mention money?....it has been hard sometimes to put on a happy face.

Today is one of those days. It started by looking at our monthly budget, for the three millionth time, for a place to squeeze out a few extra dollars and finding there is very little left to squeeze. On it went with me playing and re-playing a conversation Ryan and I had had this weekend. I could almost feel the negative energy seeping in. My face was scowling and my heart was heavy. I couldn't even be bothered to go online and check on emails and such...I felt as if the day would drag on forever.

And then I decided to go back and look at some of my earlier posts...actually, I think I was subconsciously looking for a way to make myself even more miserable...and figured I would stumble upon one of the dark, gloomy posts from when Ryan was severely ill. Instead, for no apparent reason, I clicked on this one (Scroll down to the video at the end of the post) and suddenly things didn't seem so bad. After that 20 second video, the light is suddenly shining and the shadows are fleeing away.

When money is tight, it is real easy to get caught up in that poor me routine. "What? You mean we don't have enough money to get a pizza? Are you seriously telling me that I can't go out to eat for lunch today? This isn't FAIR! I work hard and make good money!"

The reality is that yes, money is tight, but we have everything we need, not to mention a ton of things we probably don't. For example:

We have 4, yes, FOUR television sets in our home, all of which are connected to cable television via high definition boxes. In our basement we have a working washer and dryer, a playroom for Leah (with more toys in it than she could ever possibly play with!), a ping pong table, an exercise bike, a completely stocked workbench for scrap booking, bins full of Christmas decorations, bag after bag of clothing for Leah for at least the next 2 years of her life.

We have a fridge full of food and cabinets stocked with staples.

Our living room boasts a big, comfy couch, with reclining chairs at each end.

The list goes on:

ipods
desk top computer
lap top computer
2 cell phones
Greeting cards
play station
guitar hero
dvd/vcr
fireplace
2 cars in good working condition
snowblower
lawn mower
weed wacker
ladder
outside table and chairs
gas grill
rakes/shovels/hoses
multiple winter coats, hats, mittens
closets full of clothes
dvds/cds/stereos
beds
lamps
pillows
blankets (more than one person could ever possibly need at any given moment)
board games
cards
coffee pot/blender/dishes/silverware/plates
fridge/freezer/oven/microwave
musical instruments
oh yeah...and THE HOUSE! that's a big one!
medical equipment that totals in retail close to $25K and is helping Ryan to get stronger and healthier every day
digital cameras

How is it that i could let myself get so used to so many of these things, some of which might even be considered luxuries, that I don't even really properly appreciate them?

Even without all the things listed above, I am blessed far more than most:

I have a husband , daughter and dog who would follow me to the ends of the earth, regardless of how much money is in my pocket, how many electronics I own or whether or not I was able to purchase a pizza today. (Well, I guess I should be realistic...Rusty would follow me, but only if I had some pizza in my pocket!)

All in all, despite my possessions, assets, liabilities, etc...

I am still a very wealthy person!

Leah's Little Language

2009-09-14T10:37:00.000-07:00

Leah says some of the cutest things.

Don't all kids?

I know I should correct her, but they are too cute! Watching her learn has been such an amazing experience. Sometimes, you can see the wheels turning and the smoke coming out of her ears....the whole process is so intriguing to watch and makes me think about what she'll be when she grows up, where she'll go to college, etc. But then, thanks to my friend Robyn, who can't seem to sign onto blog spot without a tear jerking post, now I've started trying to remember and document each and every adorable thing so that I won't miss it! (Thanks alot, Robyn!)

After a bath, she would wrap herself in a towel, look up at me and in a small pleading voice say "take you?" It took me a few times to understand that she wanted me to pick her up and carry her to her room...snuggling into my neck and me inhaling that Clean baby smell for all I was worth! She still wants me to carry her the same way, but now she asks in a way anyone would understand. "Carry Me, mama!"

She refers to her underwear as her "unders".

She calls our entire back yard "the garden" with a strange little accent on garden that makes it sound sort of like "gardeen."

She hasn't entirely grasped the ideas of past/present/future, so when she refers to something that has happened before the current moment, she says it happened "yestear".

Instead of video, she says diveo...this one is too cute to correct!

She calls Rusty her "big boy Rusty" or "big brown boy" or even her "brown brother"!

She will randomly say something like "mama...I am so happy that you came home from work!" or "Thank you so much for buying me this purple Dora bowl...I LOVE IT SO MUCH!"

She gets so excited when she has a task to complete that she'll run away in pursuit of it until she realizes she doesn't have all the pertinent information...for example:

Yesterday, I was kneeling in the driveway next to my car, attempting to check and replace some fuses. Leah, of course, wanted to see what was happening and help. There just wasn't enough room for her hands and mine in the little hiding place for the fuses, so I asked her to go in the house and ask Daddy to give her a flashlight.

"Oh! Ok!"...and off she ran. 2 seconds later she was back, breathless, and asked "What kind is it?" I'm not sure what information she was trying to gather with this question so I just said "It's white"..that seemed to answer it well enough!

"Oh! Ok!"...and she is off again. This time, I heard the screen door on the house open and close, one second pass, and then open and close again. Again, breathless, she says "Where is it?" and I reply "In the kitchen plugged into the wall next to the sink...just ask Daddy he knows where it is"

"Oh! Ok!"...and again the door opens and closes. This time more like 2 minutes pass...during which I had gotten up, popped the trunk, found my emergency road side kit, gotten out the flashlight and was about to put the batteries in when the screen door closes.

This time, she ireturned triumphantly. Holding the flashlight high in the air, as if she has saved the day. "Here it is mama! Here is your nice white flashlight! You can fix your fuses now!"

She refers to any and all special people in her life as her "friends"...and she has a lot of them.

There is a playground directly behind our back yard. She alternately refers to it as either the park or, my favorite, the prayground.

After Leah stopped drinking a bottle, she would often ask for a glass of milk before bed. One time, when Leah wasn't feeling well, I asked her if she wanted a "nice warm cup" because it would make her cozy and feel better. To this day whenever she wants a drink, milk or not, she says "nice warm cup, please!"

She loves spending time with her aunts and uncles, especially the ones who live farther away because she knows she will be sleeping over.

She has a heart full of love that spills out onto everything around her. (Except, of course, if she is tired, in which case WATCH OUT!)

She LOVES to make people laugh...by making faces or funny noises or just plain smiling.

It is SO hard to imagine a day when she won't coming racing to the front door to greet me when I come home from work. Just thinking about it makes my heart ache, my stomach sour and my eyes water. Can't they stay little forever?

2009-09-01T07:45:00.000-07:00

In a last minute decision, Leah and I headed "up north" to visit Colleen, her kids and Poppie...Lucky for me it happened to be the Washington County Fair weekend, so on Sunday, after the rain finally let up, we hit the fair.

After watching her 4 older counsins shoot a bow and arrow, Leah looked longingly as we started to leave, but the very sweet man running the booth said...HEY! What about the little one! So, shoot she did:

The fair might as well be heaven on earth with all those animals around. She likes to get as close as she possibly can and then kiss or hug any and all animals that will allow it. This goat was especially tolerant of her affections!

And what would a trip to the fair be without a visit in the cow barns:

She wanted to kiss the cow, too, but I stopped her before she got herself sandwiched between the two in this stall!

I will not be ignored!!!

2009-08-25T18:05:00.000-07:00

Ryan would kill me for posting this, but it is too funny not too! So, sorry babe if you read this, but I had to share. I just HAD to!

Sunday morning, Ryan and I were cleaning the house. The only chore Leah so far really likes to help with is the "spraying"...windex, clorox clean-up, you name it, she's the fastest sprayer in town!

I was in the kitchen cleaning all the gunk that accumulates in the strange places (like that tiny little crack between the stove and the counter)...yuck!) Leah's job was to carry the bottle of Windex back and forth between the dining room where Ryan was dusting pictures and the kitchen where I was washing windows and gunk.

When Ryan needed the spray, she would run it over to him and then when I called her for it she would get it from Ryan and run it back to me. Since she was so excited to be helping and doing a good job of it, Ryan and I started to ask for the bottle just after she had given it to the other one of us and she was suddenly in a frenzy! She was barely stopping between trips.

When she got to Ryan for the last trip, she expected him to hand her the bottle right away so that she could go on about her business of helping. He had apparently begun to day dream and didn't hand her the bottle right away. The following ensued:

She stops dead in her tracks and yells "DADDY...MOMMY NEEDS THE SPRAY RIGHT NOW!"

Still, no bottle.

"Daddy....DADDY....SHE NEEDS IT!!!".

Still no bottle.

"PLEASE DADDY, PLEASE!....She REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY NEEDS IT!"

This was the straw that broke the camels back.

Without skipping a beat she reached out...

with both little hands...

and yanked his shorts down right to his ankles!

Now THAT's a woman who knows how to get people's attention!!!

(PS...does anyone remember what I used to talk about before Leah came along???)

A Weekend Away

2009-07-07T13:24:00.000-07:00

On Thursday, July 2, just before I was to leave for work, Ryan asked me if I had any plans for the evening. Since I didn't he said he had a surprise for me....he asked me if I wanted to know right then or if I wanted to wait and let it be a real surprise. I chose the surprise option. But, since he was so excited about it, he told me right then!

He had made arrangements for Leah to stay at his sister, Claudia's, house overnight. Aunt Claudia, Uncle Greg and "Grandma Clare (Greg's Mother) live in Java, NY on an amazing plots of more than 50 acres. The grounds are gorgeous and the landscaping is breathtaking. Claudia has a VERY green thumb. There is also a large pond filled with about a bazillion baby frogs in the spring and large goldfish in the summer. The two other residents of the home are Charlie, a border collie, and Lily, an adorable mixed breed. In short, Aunt Claudia's house is a whole lot of fun and pretty much a huge playground for Leah.

So, after I got out of work on Thursday, Ryan and I headed to Erie, PA ( a little over an hours drive from Buffalo). All we knew for sure was that we wanted to pick up some fireworks. So, at the first sign on the thruway, we exited and bought about $40 worth of fireworks. After that, since we didn't have to be home anytime soon, we went to dinner at a place called "Quaker Steak and Lube". We had some delicious dinners and Ryan opted to try the "Suicide" hot sauce which requires that you sign an insurance release form!

After dinner, we found a Red Roof hotel and rented a room for the night. Once settled in to the room, we drove a few miles down the street to the Presque Isle Casino. We played a few slots but gave up when it became clear that we were not going to win!!!

The next morning, we drove back to hamburg. At about 4:30pm we headed out to the Animal Hospital where I volunteer...just the 2 of us. As is usually the case, the hospital was hopping and Ryan jumped in to help out. One of our first tasks was to hold onto the animals that needed to be given medication. The first was a pigeon with a broken wing. He was a beautiful little guy with these impossibly white feathers that were as soft as silk. That treatment went very smoothly. The next patient was a gosling also with a leg problem. I took him out of the cage and positioned him (did you know that goose feet are REALLY sharp?) so that the other volunteer could give the meds. The first was a liquid that went down pretty smoothly. The next was a pill that required me to hold on a little tighter. Just as the pill was about to be put into his mouth, he shot out some nasty green poo that landed in three evenly spaced splotches on Ryan's shirt, shorts, and sneaker. We all had quite a laugh at that.

After that, Ryan watched me feed some baby birds and even got real friendly with a blue jay! After the evening was over, I asked Ryan what he thought about it. He was shocked at how much work had to be done and just couldn't believe it was all handled by volunteers. I asked him if he had to describe volunteering there in one word. He said it was "daring"! I agree!

Then we stopped at one of our favorite places, a great mexican restaurant in East Aurora. We sat at the bar, had a few drinks, and marveled at how different it was to be out without Leah. We both realized that our stress levels were considerably lower. We love Leah more than anything and it took her being away to realize just how much time and energy we put into taking care of her. Even when she is asleep, we are both still on alert...It was so very nice to have some time alone and worry free.

The next morning, we drove to Claudia's house to pick Leah up. After that, we decided to check out the Sardinia Fireman's Carnival. It was a pretty rinky-dink set up but Leah thoroughly enjoyed the rides. Well, not all the rides! A few hours after that we returned to Claudia's to pick up Rusty and then headed home. We stopped at a couple of vegetable stands and really enjoyed driving around on a beautiful day. On our way home, we ended up getting a last minute invite for a get together at Ryan's brother's house so we went there next. This is another house that might as well be a giant playground! Just down the street there are 4horses...she loves animals so we visited them a few times!

After that, we went back home and set up our chairs in the driveway for the fireworks! Our neighborhood seems to have an amazing amount of houses that set off their own fireworks, so between the locals and the "professional" shows happening all around, we had an amazing night. Leah loved each and every one and kept saying, "Mama, do another one!!". By the time we got back into the house, it was almost 11pm. Leah walked inside, picked up her blanket, laid down and was asleep before her head hit the pillow! Nothing like a long, full, summer day to tire you out!

It was a wonderful weekend! I had no idea how much I missed spending time with my husband!

No More Diapers!

2009-06-23T18:25:00.000-07:00

Since Leah turned 2, we have been periodically trying to start potty training. My mother in law, who INSISTS that all of her 7 children were trained before 2, was concerned that Leah didn't seem to be picking it up. We asked her if she wanted to go. We offered bigger and better prizes, we pleaded and prayed and stood back in shame with each day that passed and she was still in diapers. We bought potty training calendars with stickers for encouragement. We read the potty training books, we watched the potty training movies.

I read and re-read the "what to expect" books. I scoured the Internet for proof that a 3 year old wearing diapers was certainly no sign of parental failure. I talked to other mothers, I weighed the pros and cons....and I worried. That people would think that there was something wrong with me that I allowed my 3 year old to continue to wear diapers.

Everything that I looked up, all the mothers I consulted (except for mom in law), Leah's babysitter who has potty trained more kids than she can count, all the articles I read told me the same thing. DON'T FORCE IT! When she is ready, she will do it.

Since Leah seemed to do everything else early (she walked before she turned one, she knew her colors, she said big words) so we expected that she would potty train early.

We were wrong! I finally told Ryan that I think we needed to drop it for awhile...the sources all confirmed that the more emphasis we placed on her failure to use the potty, the more re-enforcement we provided. If we chose to let it go, she would find her way on her own.

The sources were right. On Thursday June 18 (exactly one week before her third birthday), Ryan called me at work from him mother's house and said "Leah wants to tell you something". When Leah got on the phone she said "MAMA! I WENT POOPIE ON THE POTTY!" Of course I screamed and told her how excited and proud I was, even thought I wasn't sure if it had actually happened. When Ryan got back on the phone, he told me is was true. They had gone to Grandma's to visit and she had decided she needed to go.

And the rest is history...ever since then she has been wearing "big girl pants" and going potty whenever she sees fit. She has even made it through 2 over nights in a row and is using the potty at the babysitters house, too.

It is like a switch was flipped and all of a sudden she is a big girl!

They told me that patience was the key. THEY WERE RIGHT!!!

HALLELUJAH!!!

A Dream Come True...Again!

2009-06-21T18:13:00.000-07:00

I am fascinated by birds of prey. Hawks, Eagles, Falcons, Owls. You name it, I love them all. When Ryan and I lived in Tucson, I was lucky enough to get a volunteer position at the Arizona Sonora Desert Museum and their Raptor Free Flight Program. This position required a more rigorous interviewing process than most of the "real" jobs I've had in my life. And it was also more fulfilling than most positions I've held! Every Saturday morning I would get up at 6:00 am and arrive at the museum to work with the birds and the animal trainers until about 2:00pm. As a volunteer I was dressed in camouflage and hiding behind a cactus with a two way radio headset. When the time came, I'd raise my gloved hand, out of site of the audience, and wait for the bird to come and alight on my hand. It was one of the first experiences in my life when I felt the presence of God. These birds are so mystical and beautiful and I felt so honored to be given the chance to work with them.

My position there did not last as long as I would have liked because shortly after I began my mother was labeled "terminal" and I returned home.

When we moved back to the Albany area, I ended up in a position at a company that was highly regulated and actually forbid me, as an employee, to work with birds of prey. I was sure that I would never have the chance to do it again, but felt so blessed to have had the experience at all.

Well...here I go again! Back in May of this year I happened across an ad in the Buffalo News. It was one of those things that you tell stories about later. I don't have a subscription to the paper. And I don't buy one. If I do happen to look at a newspaper, it is usually to read the Dear Abby section and the comics. But, for some reason, I picked up the classifieds one Sunday at my in-laws house and was intently reviewing each and every ad.

I found one that said "If you love animals and want to help them, this is the place for you." The place is called Messinger Woods Wildlife Rehabilitation Hospital. I immediately cut out the ad. The very next day, I sent a letter of interest, as requested, and within a few days, I got a phone call inviting me to attend an orientation class. That was followed by an introductory training session and then a tour of the animal hospital. Then, on the first Friday night of June, I walked into the hospital for my first volunteer shift from 5:30 to 9:30 pm.

I thought that at the very best, I'd be able to physically handle the animals after a year or two of sweeping floors and cleaning cages. Wow! Was I wrong! My first night as a volunteer, I walked in the door at 5:30 pm and by 5:40 pm I was chasing baby ducks! By the time the 4 hour shift was over (during which I never once sat down, or even stopped moving for that matter!) I had hand-fed a slew of orphaned baby birds, helped give medication to a squirrel that had been hit by a car, fed mice to juvenile Red Tail Hawks, gathered greens to re-create a wild environment for baby red squirrels, held and fed a baby possum and watched in awe as a full staff of volunteers ran, sweat, worked, worried, cared, and cooed over all of these animals. The goal is to rehabilitate them all to be released back into the wild. The entire hospital which staffs more than 200 hundred people is completely run by VOLUNTEERS. From the president, to the vets, to the shift leaders, to the assistant rehabbers, every single minute spent in the building is done out of the goodness of people's hearts.

Who could imagine that I'd find not one, but TWO of these kinds of volunteer opportunities in my life! Here are some pictures of the patients:

American Kestrels

Woodchuck

Baby Opossum

Juvenile Red Tail Hawk

Teeny Tiny House Wren

Baby Screech Owls

Absolutely AMAZING!

My First Bouquet From Leah

2009-06-11T07:36:00.000-07:00

One of the reasons that we bought our current house was because of its huge and completely fenced in back yard...perfect for rambunctious toddlers and dogs. It is also beautifully landscaped with plants that flower at different times all throughout the summer. I loved this aspect because I have always wanted some landscaping but would have no clue where to begin.

Anyway, one of the flowering plants is a huge rose bush that begins blooming late May. Leah noticed it the other day and was instantly enthralled. She picked a tightly closed bud from a branch close to the ground and handed it to me exclaiming "this is for you, mommy!"

She may as well have handed me a check for a million dollars! I gasped and said "Oh, for me? It is SO pretty! Thank you SO MUCH for bringing me this beautiful flower. Let's go put it in water right now so it will stay pretty!"

After that, she went back outside and then came back in and out a few times. When I went back outside to see what she was doing, this is what I found:

If you look closely you can see that in her right hand she is holding a freshly plucked rosebud, in her left hand are her "little scissors" which she dug out of her playdoh canister, and she is standing on her little step stool that she uses mostly for mischief (not in the bathroom to brush her teeth, as I had planned when I picked it up at a garage sale).

I have no idea how she managed to cut the stems with plastic scissors designed to cut soft, mushy playdoh, but manage she did!

After about a half hour had passed, we had filled up not only this little vase but also a bucket from Leah's sandbox and Rusty's waterdish. (Poor Rusty!)

All along I've been saying that Leah will grow up to be a veterinarian because she loves animals so much.

I don't know...maybe I've got a budding florist on my hands? ( I know....that was a terrible, shameful pun!)

A Trip to The Grocery Store

2009-06-01T08:39:00.000-07:00

My friend Robyn is an amazing writer and keeps me regularly entertained with her blog. A few weeks ago she posted this story: A blessing and a curse: The car cart. If you have the time, read it and it will crack you up, I promise! Anyway, I had a similar encounter yesterday that I thought I'd share.

First let me start by saying that my ideal trip to the grocery store would be to send my husband with a list and stay home. Next option would be to go by myself to Aldi (instead of the huge stores like Wegmans that has LOTS of expensive distractions) with a short list. I can be in and out of the store in 20 minutes. If I can't go by myself, then I'd take Leah with me, but only if I am armed with something that will distract her for long enough before she realizes she is strapped into the cart (like a bag of m & m's). If I have nothing to distract her, then I'll choose the car cart and endure the comments and annoyed looks of my co-shoppers. Of course, I'd go to the store as late as possible to avoid the rush.

For some reason beyond my comprehension at this point, I allowed my husband to convince me that a family trip to Wegmans on a Sunday afternoon after a long, tiring day at the park with Rusty and Leah and a REALLY BIG HILL and no time for a nap and a grocery list full of South Beach Diet approved items (some of which we've never purchased before) would be a nice, family outing.

I'm sure you can see where I'm going with this.

Let me remind you that my husband is still wearing a cast-boot with layers of wrappings for his broken leg/foot/ankle. Normally he would opt for the electric cart. Not today. He wanted to walk.

Leah sat in the car cart for about three seconds. When she realized that daddy was part of this shopping trip, she knew the rules would be different. My philosophy? Prevention. "Ok Leah. Now look at me. Listen. I will let you out of the car cart ONLY IF YOU PROMISE NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING, okay?" "Ok mama. I won't touch anything." Unbuckle the belt. Ryan's philosophy? Let her put anything she wants in the cart and then just tell the cashier that we don't want it and make the stock boy put 75 items back on the shelf.

Enter Chaos.

So now here I am with the ill-engineered car cart with no child in it. Hot. At least with Leah in the car I can hope that she'll charm people with her blond ringlets and bright blue eyes....when the car is child-less the stares from strangers quickly change from annoyance to fear. I mean for someone to push around one of those carts ON PURPOSE with NO CHILD? There must be severe mental illness involved.

After hearing me admonish Leah about every three seconds, Ryan says "You know what? Why don't you let me take care of Leah....we get along better in the grocery store." Fine.

15 minutes later..."Ryan, where's Leah?" Ryan: "I don't know".

After about an hour of weaving in and out between the 40 somethings with their mini-carts to the 80 somethings with their baskets, I was exhausted and frustrated beyond repair. As we pulled up to the check out line I realized that the combination of the car cart, a frustratingly tired toddler and my plus size ass is impossible to maneuver through the lane. A few seconds of embarrassed fear pass while I try to figure out how the hell I am going to get my items on the belt. In the meantime, Leah is laying on her stomach on the floor screaming that she "WANTS TO GO HOME!". Eventually, I realize I can toss the items from the cart to the belt...this works well until I reach the items in glass. For this, I attempt to squeeze my size LARGE self into the size EXTREMELY SMALL space between the cart and the counter. I am able to fit in enough to balance on one foot while bending over the front of the cart, which also, i forgot to mention, has an infant seat attached to it, also empty, because it was the only car cart left, while shifting one breast to the side and holding onto the counter with my left hand. Essentially, a circus act.

Ryan finds us with his last minute items just as I am putting my last item on the belt and wants to know why Leah is on the floor? No concern for why my breast is dangling precariously between the baby seat and the moving conveyor belt...no concern whatsoever. He then decides he needs to use the bathroom....NOW....and conveniently misses the part of the trip where I am trying to maneuver the car cart with empty car and baby seat through the masses with Leah sitting on the rack on the bottom of the cart directly in front of me, turned backwards, swinging her legs and yelling "WHEE" at the top of her lungs. He also misses the part where I get to the car only to find that the multimillion dollar hummer SUV that has parked next to us is so HUGE that it fills its own parking spot plus half of mine. As I try to open the back door without scratching the SUV, shutting the car door on Leah's finger, or my dangling breasts, for that matter, while trying to get Leah buckled into her car seat while trying to avoid her sitting in the melted god only knows what in her car seat with her brand new white pants (who decided it was a good idea to make WHITE pants in a size 3T?)....I look up to find that my passenger and driver-less car cart is slowing rolling away towards another multimillion dollar SUV....CRAP!

Drop Leah, grab the cart, wedge it against the side of my car and the bumper of the less expensive looking car parked on the other side of me, buckle Leah, close door. Deep Breath. Open the trunk only to find it full of...well....everything. Close the trunk, throw the bags in the back seat, silently cursing myself for forgetting my cloth bags as the plastic, shapeless bags fall off the seat and hit the floor, spewing their contents.

Get in. Buckle up. Turn on the A/C full blast. Back up, drive back to the front of the store, where Ryan is waiting patiently with his casted leg sticking out.

As he gets into the car, a passerby notices his casted leg and says "Boy, that sure doesn't look like fun!"

Oh, the irony.

Parental Ramblings

2009-05-13T07:58:00.000-07:00

I fell asleep on the couch last night and therefore woke to Leah climbing on me in search of even the tiniest space to squeeze into so we could snuggle. When she finally settled down I could feel her looking at me so I opened my eyes. As I looked up, she put her little hand on my forehead, gently stroked my face all the way down to my chin, and then leaned in slowly and planted the sweetest little kiss on my forehead. Logically I know that she is probably just repeating an action I've no doubt done to her countless times. But deep in my heart it felt like an act of love from an older soul. Who knew such a simple moment could have the power to stop you in your tracks and thank God, right then and there, for such an amazing gift? I had no idea that I was deserving of so much love.

I so wish my mom was still alive so that I could share these kinds of things with her. On one level, I know she is out there somewhere, watching and loving from a distance. But to be able to tell her, face to face, that I finally get it! I get what it means to love someone so much that just the thought of losing them can rip your heart to shreds. To look at someone and want so badly to be able to teach them by sharing your own mistakes yet knowing, that if she is anything like me (and boy is she ever), that she'll need to learn it the hard way, by making those same mistakes herself. I look at her and I want to give her the answers and help her avoid some of the heartache along the way.

Then I remember being a teenager. My mother would make suggestions for how to live my life. She wanted me to be able to avoid the pain she'd endured. When I didn't take them into consideration, I almost always came out the other side wishing that I had. I can't tell you how many times I've thought "Oh My God! She WAS right! DAMNIT!!! Not again!!!". And yet I know in my heart that Leah will put me through some, if not all, of the same things.

I pray that I'll be around to gloat...oh, no, wait a minute, I mean LISTEN when she reaches the same conclusions about me!

At one point in my life, I remember thinking that I would never have children. I loved kids, don't get me wrong. I probably spent more hours babysitting in high school than I did in class. But there was always this deep seated feeling that parenthood wasn't for me. I even remember one time seriously considering getting a hysterectomy so that I could just avoid any chance of children all together.

And yet, 15 years later, here I am. Unable to define myself without mention of my child. So completely absorbed in her growth and development that I often find myself wondering just what the hell I did with myself before she came along! How crazy is that? I mean, I was 31 years old when I had Leah. That is a lot of years to go by without a purpose! Until she came a long, I was drifting. Now, my path is clear. To do for her any and everything I can to make her strong, confident, responsible and loving.

Based on her gentle kiss from this morning, I'd say we can consider the "loving" part taken care of. God grant me the strength to teach her the rest!

Greyhound Expo and Fly Ball Competition

2009-05-05T09:29:00.000-07:00

As dog lovers, Ryan, Leah and I like to attend anything and everthing that has to do with those 4 legged cuties. On the weekend of Ryan's Birthday, there were two events going on at the Hamburg Fairgrounds, which is probably less than 2 miles from our house.

Leah gave every single dog she met a kiss or a hug around the neck. I think she might be an aspiring veterinarian!This is her and "Garth Brooks", one of the Flyball champs:

A "Thank you so much for bringing me to this great place!!!" hug for daddy:

If you've never seen a Flyball Competition, here's a sneak peak:

A Trip to the East

2009-05-05T09:16:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Leah and I traveled to Argyle to visit my sister and her family and my father. Here are some of the things we did...

A visit to my sister's horse barn.

Me and Oscar:Leah in the barn:

A Visit to Aunt Helen's House

It is always so nice to catch up with family but even a long weekend is never enough time to spend!

Dancin'!

2009-05-04T12:46:00.000-07:00

Ryan, Leah and I attended the first annual "Buffalo Pizza Fest" this past weekend. It was an all-out extravaganza featuring crazy pizza creations like Roast Beef on Weck Pizza, Big Mac Pizza and Philly Cheesesteak Pizza. You could sample creative creations from about 25 different pizzerias and all day long there were lots of kid friendly events. Leah was in her glory! She got a free t-shirt, made her own pizza (even as visions of swine flu danced in my head as she was reaching into the vat of shredded cheese that god knows how many other kids had dipped into as well), got an air brush tatoo, jumped in the bounce house, got to meet Spongebob and Dora and even have a seat in "Kit"....remember the Knight Rider? It was quite a day! As usual, Leah had Ryan and I in stitches with her antics. Here is an example (notice how she seems to stay away from the crowd and do her own thing!):

Indigo!

2009-04-21T12:34:00.000-07:00

I love the Indigo Girls. I have been listening to them faithfully since I was in 7th grade. (Despite the fact that my sister used to make fun of me and called them "The Blue People"). I have memorized every song on every album (well, mostly) and sing each one at the top of my lungs whenever I get the chance. I have seen the girls in concert 5 times and don't plan on stopping any time soon.

First was at Artpark in Niagara Falls when I was going to school at SUNY Fredonia. I went to the show with my best girlfriends and we sat outside in the sun and laughed and sang along and it was the best concert I had ever seen.

Then, I saw them with my sister at SPAC in Saratoga. I don't remember exactly but I think I was still in college at the time. It was might first trip to SPAC which was an event in itself. Going with my sister made it all the more sweet and....no shocker here...it was the best concert I had ever seen.

Next was at the Palace Theatre in Albany NY with Ryan. The venue was amazing. The seats were great. The crowd was fun. It was the best concert I had ever been to.

The next show was in September of last year at the Smith Opera House in Geneva, NY. I paid for two tickets, but ended up going by myself because of Ryan's broken leg. I drove 2 hours each way to get there on a Tuesday night. The opening act was a little know Canadian woman, Kathleen Edwards, who I had become a fan of by accident a couple of years back and I was so excited that she was touring with them. I sang my heart out and the harmonies were so intense that I was crying and laughing at the same time. Guess what? Best concert ever.

And now, most recently, was last night. The venue was the Center for the Arts at the University at Buffalo North Campus. Ryan and I both LOVE being on college campuses...we both feel energized and worldly and the people watching is unmatched. The show started with "Javier" a young Spanish acoustic guitarist and vocalist who was awesome and had some of the most amazing vocals I've ever heard. The girls came on at about 9:30pm. From the minute they walked on the stage to the minute they walked off, I was completely mesmerized. They played two of my favorite songs, "Love's Recovery" and "The Wood Song" which was an amazing and pleasant surprise because they are older and they don't play them much anymore. As I sang and closed my eyes, I was transported. It all sounds so corny, I know, but if you are a fan like so many of us are, you know exactly what I am talking about!

And, yes, it was the best concert I have ever seen. Yet!

The Power of Simple Prayer

2009-04-09T07:09:00.000-07:00

On Sunday night, I was crying just before going to bed. The reason was because Ryan and I had decided that Monday was the day to "begin our new lives". When he kissed me on the cheek and said "We can do this...we HAVE to do this...I don't want someone else raising our daughter", I burst into tears saying "I'm afraid I won't be able to!!".

After he reassured me and the tears had stopped flowing, I said "God, please help me do this, I am not strong enough on my own".

When I woke up in the morning, I happily prepared 2 healthy lunches, one for me and one for Leah. It happened without any thought or decision making on my part. I simply walked to the refrigerator and did it.

I went to work and went on about my business. On at least 2 separate occasions during the day, a voice that I did not recognize as my own in my head said "No...you don't really want to go in there" when I started walking toward the office where I knew the candy bowl was.

Due to circumstances beyond my control, I never ate lunch. However, some power greater than I kept me from stopping for fast food on the way home.

At 9:00pm when I realized we were out of milk and a few other essentials, I took a trip to the store. As I wandered by the ice cream cases, again, the voice rang loud and clear "that's not what you came here for. And, besides, you don't want to ruin the progress you've made so far." And with the exception of some dog bones, I left the store with only those items on my list. I did not feel deprived, I did not feel angry. Not once could I hear the typical voice which is so definitely my own saying things like "Oh, what the hell...you only live once...there's always tomorrow to lose that weight!"

And then finally, when I got back home and decided I wanted a snack, I chose a light yogurt instead of an entire bag of "Movie Theatre Butter" popcorn which is my usual.

What I am trying to point out here is that just minutes before I prayed my simple prayer for help, the only voice I could hear was my own, goading me and tempting me into continued misery. I don't know if the voice I heard was God's or my subconscious, but I do know that it is a gift from someone or something other than me. Even with all of my best intentions, I could not make it happen on my own...but as soon as I asked for help it was given.

So, thanks to this help, I've managed to stay on track! I am using the Weight Watchers points system and have kept up with a food journal. Today is day 4 and I still have the willingness to do the work....this is what was lacking before.

Hallelujah!

Here we go again!

2009-04-06T12:38:00.000-07:00

Well, the time has finally come for me to throw in the towel and get back on a diet. I've been fighting this battle all of my life and to be honest I am sick and tired of it. Almost sick and tired enough to give in and allow myself to be obese, sad, uncomfortable and easily agitated for the rest of my life. Almost....but not quite. Dammit! I am not a fat person! The woman I see in my head bares a scarce resemblance to the one in the mirror. So little, in fact, that I am sometimes surprised by my own reflection.

Full disclosure has always helped me to get things in to perspective and make myself see what everyone else is seeing. There is an evil part of my brain that likes to make me think that it doesn't matter and as long as my heart is big and full it doesn't matter how big and full my ass is....well, its bunk. All of it. Listen up evil part of my brain! I am not going to let you control me any longer. That woman I see in my head is tired of being imprisoned in this unhealthy body. Tired of having no energy. Tired of being sad. Tired of being in constant pain from joints that have certainly aged faster than they ever should have. I am only 34 years old! It should not take me ten minutes to get out of my chair and start walking across the room. You know what, this doesn't work, either. All these "shoulds"....you can't do anything about a should. You can't take action in the present to change something you didn't do in the past.

So...here we go again. These are the things I want and deserve to have every day of my life:
health, love, ease of movement, nourishing food that I have planned for myself to eat, energy to get through the day at work and still come home, cook dinner and play with my family, happiness, contentment and no fear. These are all things that I have the resources to attain. The only thing holding me back is my fear. Fear that I won't be able to do it. Fear that I will do it and then lose it (again). Fear that this is the best I'll ever get. Fear that Leah will be embarrassed of me at her sporting events in school....

Its really nothing new. I've said all these things before. I've felt the pain before. I've struggled through the hard work and enjoyed the reward and then let it all go....more times than once. What is different this time? What is going to get me through this? What is going to motivate me to make my life better?

Hmmm....

Think I'll get back to you on that one.

The Shrine Circus

2009-03-21T08:53:00.000-07:00

Leah, Ryan, Grandma Virginia, Grandpa Vinny and I went to the shrine circus last night...what a time we had!
Lions and Tigers!

Circus Families:

Grandpa, Grandma, and Leah:

Glowing Light Swords and Sabers:

And a spoiled little girls gets one of her own from Grandma!

It was quite a long night and after the roaring tigers Leah turned around and looked at me and said I WANT TO GO HOME...so we did!

My Cutie Patootie

2009-03-13T19:38:00.000-07:00

Its been a while since I've posted pics of my little darlin so here it goes:

Hangin' out with Poppie:

Just being:

Finger Painting with Daddy:

Sleeping Cuties:
Riding Horses at Aunt Col's:

Almost Normal

2009-03-11T13:05:00.000-07:00

So, Ryan is now able to walk without a walker, as long as he wears his cast-boot! His last follow-up with the surgeon was a great success and the doctor has even given him permission to swim and use a recumbent bike. It has made for an amazing change in our lives! I do not feel so completely overwhelmed all the time and he is able to help out quite a bit more at home. In fact, he is even watching Leah one day a week so that Grandma isn't obliged anymore.

I can't begin to tell you how precious ordinary things become when you can't have them anymore. When Ryan as so incapacitated that he needed me for everything, the prospect of an hour to myself or a nap or even a quick run to the store without Leah in tow was not possible. Now, I can say "hey...I'll be right back" and run an errand....it feels like I've been let out of jail!

His next follow-up is March 31. This just might be the defining moment....all along the doctors have been telling Ryan that even though he is healing that he is not out of the woods yet. They keep reminding him of patients in his exact situation that still ended up with an amputation. However, if his healing continues as it has been, the next appointment just might be the one where they say "Okay...you've made it...you can keep your leg!!!" God, i hope it is!

Mission Statement

2009-03-05T07:57:00.001-08:00

A few weeks before Leah was born, I wrote my personal mission statement. At the time, it seemed like the lifeline I needed to make the changes I want in myself. Now, it has been reduced to just another business card in my wallet. I thought I would bring it out and share it to remind me of how much I deserve to make the changes I desire:

"I Promise to live a life of Balance, Courage, Discovery, Health, Honor, Kindness, Love, Patience, Spirituality and Wonder. I promise to incorporate these values into every choice I make and every action I take. I promise to make these values highly visible to even the most casual observer of my life but most importantly, to me."

As I read this now, I find it ironic to discover that if I made a promise like this to someone else, that I would most certainly keep it.

Yet, when the promise is being made to myself, I break it almost immediately and continue to so so almost 2 years later.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.

Spring

2009-03-05T07:40:00.000-08:00

I love spring because it means warmer days are coming. I've been couped up in the house all winter and can't wait to get outside and breathe some crisp air, squint at the brilliant sunshine that comes only in the spring and walked and breathe and feel and see. Its like waking up from a coma and seeing things again for the first time. The tree branches evolve from skeletal shadows to hope-filled branches of buds. You hear the birds singing and wonder where they've been. You sit on a cold cement step and raise your head to the sky, letting the warmth of the sun wash over you like a deep, warm hug. The days are longer and prettier and in a few weeks you won't even be able to remember what it was like to have to wear a coat everyday.

And then there is the mud. Everywhere. And those damned earthworms that wriggle all over the place and die on the sidewalk before they can ooze themselves to wherever it is they think they are going. Yuck.

But soon enough, the mud will dry up, the grass will start to grow, the sound of snow blowers is replaced by lawnmowers and I, the same person who would have given her left arm for a chance to sit anywhere anywhere anywhere outside is now complaining of the heat and can't wait to get inside to the air conditioning!

Its crazy! What is it about me that wants to be anywhere but where I am? The times when I am living in the moment and enjoying each second for what it is are few and far between compared to the times when I am daydreaming about what once was or what might be yet to come. It kind of infuriating!

Especially since I want to teach my daughter by example. I want her to see me trying to be better and recognize how important it is to always strive for her best. I want her to think that exercise is a normal part of every one's life and not just some big event that you show up at every couple of months. I want her to understand on as deep a level as possible that if she believes enough in herself that she can do A N Y T H I N G !!

And that brings me back to the mud. In the real world, mud is a mixture of dirt and water. But its on the inside its a swarming pool of emotions, regrets, concerns, fears, failures and memories. A whole seemingly bottomless pool of things to struggle against. Its as if I have to haul all the mud away before I can get down to business. Its exhausting and mostly defeating.

So how do I get that mud out of there? This is the question I've been asking my whole life and have not yet been able to answer. How do you journey from wanting to make a change to finding the willingness to do the work?

The Joys of Motherhood (or not!)

2009-01-22T07:30:00.000-08:00

I don't know how many times in my life I've heard people say "having kids is the best thing that ever happened to me", and before I became a mother I remember thinking, rather defensively, that it was just their way of justifying something. The loss of their youth, the inability to do anything (ANYTHING) alone, not being able to do what you want when you want to.

And then there was Leah. And immediately I became one of those people who can't remember life without her and constantly sing the praises of parenting. She is, and I say this with absolutely no reservation, the most important and joyful part of my life.

She is also 2. She has those moments when she frustrates me so intensely that I have to leave the room for fear of venting my anger too heavily on her. She will look right at me as she pours a glass of red Koolaid on the carpet and smile ever more widely with each frenzied shout of "NO!" She knows she is doing something she shouldn't, but she seems to get such joy out of watching me watch her.

She learns so quickly that it frightens me. It took only one slip of my favorite obscenity (yes, it is the one that starts with F) for her to say it, sing it, scream it or whisper it and then look at me with a devilish grin.

She likes to unplug things and throw things and pull every last book off the shelf just to watch them fall and delight in the dis-array.

She has to do everything herself, despite the fact that Mommy woke up late and would really like to just get the damn boots on already!

She is fast and tends to go faster every time I say "Leah Rose get your tush back here right this instant!" She has selective hearing. Her favorite word is NO. She always wants to take her clothes off. She can cry for an hour and a half straight just so I will let her sleep with me.

And then, out of nowhere, she'll say or do something so sweet that my heart melts and every single transgression is forgiven in an instant.

For example. Last night I was sitting on the edge of the couch trying to tune my guitar that hasn't been touched in months (by the way, it took me close to an hour to get it tuned). I didn't even realize she had gotten on the couch until all of a sudden from behind me she throws her arms around my neck and says "Mommy I love you so much!" and squeezes with all her might.

Have you ever tried to meditate? It is hard for me because my mind wanders and starts making lists of all the things that I should be doing but then I'll remind myself to get back to "center". Leah's surprise hug was just like that for me. I literally felt as if the world had stopped and I was just me and she was just her and we were sharing that moment just between the two of us, for no one else to see. It probably only lasted a few seconds but the power of that feeling was huge. For just a moment, nothing else mattered. There were no bills to pay, no to-do lists, no sickness, no pain...just pure, real, amazing love.

That moment was worth every single carpet stain I've ever scrubbed.

I can see the light!

2009-01-21T12:02:00.001-08:00

Ryan had another follow-up appointment with the ortho doc yesterday. For the first time since Ryan broke his leg, the orthopaedic surgeon said "Ryan, you are doing great!"

Hallelujah!

The x-rays showed additional healing since the last visit and the screws (you would laugh if you saw the x-ray...it looks like an erector set!) have stayed in place. This is especially important because one month ago the doctor allowed him to start putting some weight on the foot. Since the screws are staying in place, despite the weight-bearing, it is a good sign that healing will continue.

They are not yet able (well maybe able but definitely not willing) to give a prognosis as far as how soon he can walk again, but they did ask him to start putting as much as half of his body weight on the broken foot. This means that he can stand and possibly even shuffle a little.

The phrase "One Day at a Time" has never meant more to me than it does right now. This is an example of one of those situations where you have to "let go and let god" because no matter how smart you are, how many questions you ask, how much research you do or how hard you work to participate in your own healing, you have absolutely NO CONTROL over anything.

Did I mention that I am a control freak?

Thanks again to everyone for all your support and prayers. I most certainly would have been in the looney bin by now if I hadn't had all the support of friends and family to get us through this. It has not been easy, but being able to count on people I love to hear me out has helped immensely.

Please keep us in your prayers!

Day of The Dogs

2009-01-18T15:54:00.001-08:00

I'm sure you know that I am a dog person. I am the kind of dog person that lets Rusty sleep in our bed, lick my face, pretty much do whatever he pleases. We love him like our first born and consider him our son and Leah's brother. Non-dog people don't really get this. They watch a dog lick someone's face and think "OOO...how could you do that?" What I think is "would you turn a kiss from your son away?"

Today was an all around perfect doggie day. This morning, we went to Chestnut Ridge to go sledding. Leah, me, my nieces Ryanna, Taylor, Katie, Nephew Kevin and sisters-in-law Barb and Kathleen.

Now, the ridge is not technically a dog-friendly place, but lots of people bring their dogs there. We saw a Golden-Doodle (i'd never seen this combo before...curly like a poodle, big and gangly like a Golden...), a GORGEOUS husky named Savannah (who I got to watch for a little while when her daddy had to go inside for a minute...but for sure, the stars of the day were three Great Pyrenees puppies, nine weeks old. Imagine picking up a cloud....adorable and cuddly and sweet and impossible to put down.
The people who brought the puppies are breeders and they were showing off the adorable guys for all to see and fall in love with. After lots of cuddling by the fire with three fluffy white pups, we made our way to the movie theatre to see Marley and Me.

I had listened to this book on CD a couple of years ago, before it was a craze and totally loved it. I thought the author was witty and seemed to be the kind of dog person that I am.

The movie portrayed the love between human and dog better than I imagined they would have been able to. If you are a dog person, bring your box of kleenex...it will not go to waste!

Another Milestone Reached

2009-01-04T14:36:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, the at home nurse came to our house for the last time and removed Ryan's PICC line....this means NO MORE IV ANTIBOTICS! We made it through the six weeks. He will now go on oral antibiotics for 6 months. His next follow up with the orthopadic surgeon is January 20th....we'll see how we've done!

Merry Christmas Eve!

2008-12-30T13:56:00.000-08:00

Since Leah was born, we have been trying to create some Christmas Eve traditions specific to our family. As a kid, I always remember Christmas Eve as deviled eggs, potato salad, and good steak cooked in a fondu pot. It was a little odd and most people could never understand how fondue could be steak, but it was a tradition as solid as rock.

For Ryan, it was having some snacks, going to Candlight service at the church and then going to Denny's on the way home.

We have talked about it for a couple of years and decided that this would be the year to create the tradition and stick to it....

We decided to spend the day together cooking. Ryan is an excellent cook and Leah loves to be involved in anything we are doing so cooking is great. We decided on a meal of home made mac n cheese (mostly because we figured she would eat it...like few other things at this time...) potato pancakes, to honor Ryan's German heritage and a really good, big, steak.

Leah helped make everything but the steak and the following video was too precious not to share....sorry if it is hard to watch...I can't figure out how to change the angle...

One Day At a Time

2008-12-23T12:38:00.001-08:00

So Ryan had another follow up with his orthopaedic surgeon today. His surgery was more than three months ago now...some days it seems like this battle will never end! The doctor said that there are some areas of bone that show no healing and others that show as much as 50% healing. He is now allowed to put up to 40 pounds of pressure on his foot...although we are having trouble figuring out how/when/where you'd need this type of pressure! The news is good, at least from my perspective, however the doctors are very cautious and like to keep reminding Ryan that he still has a long way to go. He has to go back in 1 month for the next followup. In the meantime, we are about to finish week 4 of 6 of the IV antibiotic therapy.

When Ryan was in the hospital for the infection surgery, the infectious diseases doctor suggested he take a drug called Zyvox after the IV therapy to be sure to combat the serious combination of bugs that they had found in his wounds. As luck would have it, this is considered a "designer" drug and normally costs about $100 per day. Since the doctor may decide to keep him on the antibiotic for as long as one year you can imagine my concern with where we'd come up with another $36,000....But, the good lord has been shining down on us again and the insurance company has deemed the drug "medically necessary" so we'll only have to pay our standard $20 copay for a month supply. Thank you!!!!!!!

So, as usual, please continue to keep us in your thoughts and prayers....it is working so far!!!

These Difficult Times

2008-12-17T09:05:00.000-08:00

Its hard not to be affected by the "economic crises". In the past I have felt the financial crunch and tightened the belt, but this time, things seem a little more ominous. There is this uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach that doesn't seem to go away. Sometimes I am able to squash it and move on, but sometimes, I can't seem to stop the gnawing. Maybe it is because I am in a new job....maybe it is because Ryan isn't working right now...maybe it is because I have a 2 year old daughter who depends on me for every little thing. Oh wait...maybe it is all of those things combined! Yeah...that might be it!

Anyway...despite that feeling of dread, I am still, at the end of the day, able to list so many things that I have that make me better off than most and for that I am truly grateful. I can get lost in the what ifs but I am usually able to get back to the "yes...buts". What if I lose my job? Yes...but you have one today! What if I get sick and can't work? Yes, but you are well today! What if we can't make the mortgage payment? Yes, but you made it this month!

I think I'll be all right as long as the last thing out of my mouth each day is a yes but....

Hope For The Holidays

2008-12-10T09:59:00.001-08:00

Yesterday I was reading the local newspaper and there was a story about a family who was struggling and were bound to have a crappy Christmas. It was a single mom with cancer and her two teenage sons, one of who is also ill and still undiagnosed. Despite the fact that my own life is pretty stressful right now, hearing this story help to reinforce just how lucky I am to have what I have.

At the end of the article, there was an email for the author, so I emailed her and asked how I could help. She said that they had had an overwhelming response and that the family that had been in the news would be more than taken care of for Christmas. This warmed my heart!

Instead, she suggested, I should contact my town "Youth Bureau" and find out what could be done for needy children in my own town. Turns out there are more than 100 families registered in my town alone, so Leah and I will be shopping for a needy family tonight!

Sometimes the world seems so evil, I thought you might like to hear a story about the good that is out there, too.

Kudos to Me!!

2008-12-03T07:50:00.000-08:00

Many of you know that I struggled with my previous job for a long time because I felt as if I was never really recognized for my efforts. You may also know that I have been continuously grateful for my new job which has provided me so many of the things that I had been looking for for so long.

On Monday evening, after a long day of rest and feeling a bit more like normal, I checked my work email to prepare for returning after vacation. In the inbox, there was an email from the Vice President of the Company who was sending out the Quarterly Newsletter to all staff. In the email, he said the following:

"We would like to take this opportunity and recognize the outstanding efforts of Lyn Stadler. Lyn's Commitment to accomplishing her department's workload and willingness to go above and beyond the call of duty make her invaluable to her team and all those she works with. We applaud Lyn's positive attitude and thank her for her dedication!"

'Nuf said!

Update on Ryan

2008-12-03T07:39:00.000-08:00

So, Ryan was finally discharged from Erie County Medical Center on Friday, November 21. He is now required to take antibiotics intravenously twice per day. Once in the morning and once in the evening. It takes a few minutes to hook him up (he has a PICC line, so I'm not actually weilding any needles....good news to all of us in the house!) and then an hour to run the antibiotics. This will last for 6 weeks. After that, he'll have to take oral antibiotics for 6 months to a year. Yikes! Those nasty little bugs really dug in and held on! In addition, a home-care nurse comes once per week to take blood and do a check-up.

The good news is that he saw his orthopedic surgeon on Wednesday, Nov 26 and the incision sites look good. He does not have to wear the cast anymore and he can actually get the foot wet and shower and do some normal things. The biggest hardship is that he still can not put ANY weight on the foot, so mobility is difficult. Now that winter is here, it makes it even harder since any movement is usually treacherous anyway due to snow and ice.

The doctor prescribed for Ryan something called a "Roll About Knee Walker" which is basically a scooter than he can put his knee on and propel himself with his other leg. It is great because he can actually stand up and feel a little more normal. It is easy to navigate than the wheelchair and helps with trips to the bathroom and general mobility.

The bad news is that we still have a long road and he is still at risk to lose the leg. He is really truly doing everything the doctors have told him and continues to keep his sugars under control. In fact, his sugars have been close to normal for about 3 months now!!! Regardless, it will be at least another 3 months before he'll be able to put any weight on it at all. It makes life difficult for him and everyone around him.

But...we are still getting by. Thanks to Ryan's mom, brothers, and sisters who tirelessly help with household chores, running errands, doctor's appointments, etc...we are surviving and getting everything done that needs to be. I am truly blessed to be surrounded and supported by such an amazing group of people and family!

Back to the Routine

2008-12-03T07:29:00.000-08:00

Isn't it ironic how we go through our daily lives and are dying and dying to take a vacation but are then so happy to return to the routine we are so used to?

My company gives paid holidays for both Thanksgiving and the day after, so I decided to use a few vacation days on Monday/Tuesday/Wednesday to make a long week of it.

What was I thinking?

I am the mother of a 2 year old daughter. I am used to dropping her off at the babysitter's at 8:30 and then picking her up again at 5:30. The most time I spend with her is in the evening, which is all fun. Dinner, bath, story time, bed.

Taking care of her 24 hours a day for ten days in a row is an ENTIRELY different story! She wakes up at 7:00am every day. Have I mentioned that I am NOT a mornign person? This is regardless of whether or not she had a nap the day before or whether she went to bed early or late. The good news is that she wakes up with a smile on her face, so that makes it easier! She is extremly active....especially when she finds something she likes, like the bathroom sink. All of a sudden she is obsessed with hand washing. If only it didn't entail shirt washing, pants washing, socks washing....oh, and of course, washing all her "babies".

She is getting to the point where she will not easily be contained by even the most strategically placed baby gates....She opens the fridge and climbs the shelves, she has figured out "child-proof" caps, she can turn on any and all pieces of equipment (tv, dvd player, stereo, lights, Ryan' IV infusion pump!)

Needless to say, I was exhausted after the first day. By the time Sunday rolled around, I was sure I had lost my mind. Only to wake up at 1:00 am puking my guts out. I ended up going to the doctor the next day where I was diagnosed with severe dehydration that caused my heart rate and BP to skyrocket. After 2 liters of IV fluid and a nice nap, alone, all by myself, in a quiet, dark room, with very nice and caring women checking on me every few minutes, i felt much better and went back home. I stayed home Monday and Yesterday and now, Today, I am...

Back to the routine. I have one word for you. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

How bout something good?

2008-11-18T17:40:00.000-08:00

So...enough of this crazy stuff that has been going on lately...I thought I'd post some pics of a recent trip Leah and I took back home. The main purpose of the trip was for my Cousin Pam's wedding. It was a truly joyous occassion since Pam is the sweetest women in the world who just found the sweetest man in the world to share not only her life with but also her son, Jeremy's, too. They are the cutest little family!

On the way back to Buffalo after the wedding, Leah and I stopped at my sister's in-law's dairy farm in Cobleskill. It was a gorgeous crisp sunny fall day...the kind post cards are made of. When you mix 5 kids, a herd of cows, a gaggle of geese, goats, cats, dogs, pumpkins and family, magic happens!

And Continues....

2008-11-18T06:59:00.001-08:00

I am completely spent. I got to work about 30 minutes ago and there was a message from Ryan on my voice mail. I expected that when I called him he would tell me that he had been discharged and I could come pick him up anytime.

No such luck.

In fact, what he had called me for was to say that the doctor came to his room to let him know that he would not be able to go home after all because they had given him so much antibiotic that it had reached toxic levels in his blood!

What the hell?

Am I on some sort of twisted candid camera TV show? Did I do something horrific in a past life that I am now being punished for?

This is insanity! In the last 2 months, Ryan has only been in our home for a total of 13 days. The rest of the time he has either been in the hospital or in the nursing home.

The only thing I can do is laugh. There is no other choice except to huddle in a ball in the corner sucking my thumb and crying my eyes out....I think I'll stick to the laughing even if it is inappropriate.

The Saga Continues

2008-11-16T18:24:00.000-08:00

Ryan went to the ortho doctor on Tuesday for a check up. We figured they would take the cast off, take some x-rays, put a cast back on and send him home to continue recovering. Unfortunately, fate had something else in mind. When they removed the cast, his sutures were deeply infected. They admitted him to Erie County Medical Center on the spot and scheduled and additional surgery to debride the wounds. He had surgery on Friday and should be coming home tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. The surgery went well, but they did have to go as deep as the bone to get all of the infection out. When he comes home, they will not be putting a cast back on, so we will have to be especially careful not to bump the leg. He still won't be able to put any weight on it for at least another 3 months, so it is a long road that seems to keep getting longer.

I am happy to report, however, that with each additional blow to his health, Ryan takes less and less time to come out of the initial shock and depression and makes another commitment to getting better and living longer. We are both trying to commit to healthier eating and healthier habits so that we might both get healthier and live longer together with Leah.

The weight has always been a huge issue for me that I thought I had conquered at least twice before in my life. As I sit here typing, the tears stream down at the thought of yet another attempt of taking it off and struggling to keep it off. Each time I try, it gets harder and harder. Sometimes it is just so much easier to keep doing what you have always done. But, as they say, if you keep doing what you have always done, you will keep getting what you have always got.

Right now, I feel like I will never find the resolve I need to make the changes I need to get healthy. There is a tiny pinpoint of hope in my heart, so I know I am not totally lost, but I need all the strength I can get to get better.

If you are reading this, please stop for a second and send a prayer up for Ryan and I. I would appreciate it more than you know.

Cleaning House

2008-11-07T07:40:00.000-08:00

Ryan's sister, Pat, who lives in Florida, who can't be here physically to help with Ryan's recovery, sent us a check to help cover the cost of a cleaning lady, if we wanted. Ryan called some numbers he found in the Penny Saver and hired a sweet girl named Annie. She and her husband are coming tomorrow for 2 hours to clean my house. Wow. I never thought I'd see the day!!! For me, there is nothing better than walking into a clean house after a long week....the only thing better could be if someone else does it for me! Thank you, Pat!!!

Hooray for USA

2008-11-05T06:41:00.000-08:00

I'm not what you'd call a patriot. Don't get me wrong. I am proud to be an American. The lifestyle it affords is one that I am truly grateful for and cannot imagine living without. I love the freedom and often find myself giving thanks for having been born in this country and no other.

However, I do not fly a flag. I have never adorned my bumper with a yellow ribbon. I've never worn a red white and blue shirt and shouted "USA,USA" (well, maybe during the Olympics). And, I must admit, there have been times when I've been a bit ashamed by the actions of the leaders of our country and maybe once even secretly wished that I was Canadian....

It is amazing the difference one day can make. Today, I am a true red-white-and blue, flag waving, ribbon wearing fanatical citizen of these United States of America. I am more proud than I have ever been to be a part of a country that has finally, after decades of prejudice and injustice and insincerity, risen above the mess and elected the person most deserving and most capable of doing the job...despite the color of his skin.

Barrack Obama won the presidential election last night in a land slide against John McCain. When I heard the words, I immediately flipped to another channel to verify that I wasn't hallucinating. I had been hoping and praying that enough people were just as fed up with G.W. as I was that they would do the American thing and vote their asses off. And vote, they did!

I was in tears as Barrack delivered his victory speech. I kept thinking how real he seems and how grateful I am to have someone so caring and so willing to go the extra mile in the most important seat in the country.

Thank you, America! Thank you for not only getting out there and exercising your rights but especially for choosing the right man for the job!

Religion

2008-11-02T04:53:00.000-08:00

Most of you who know me know that I have struggled with the idea of God and religion and such....especially since my mother died. If asked, I declare my "denomination" as Unitarian Universalist. Ryan and I became members of a UU church in Tucson, were married by a UU minister, and had Leah's"dedication ceremony" at our UU church in Saratoga. Since our move to Buffalo, we have only been to one UU church one time, but there are 2 other congregations we could go to.

However, I am a HUGE fan of Joel Osteen. He is on every Sunday morning at 7:30 on our local channel 4. I am not usually awake at that hour, but this morning I was (thanks to daylight savings time). The topic of his sermon was "be a bend-back person". Drawing from a bible story about how God says we are built like palm tree, that is, strong enough to bend. Despite the storms you might be in the middle of, the strife you may be experiencing, the depression you may be in, it is only a season and you have the strength to get through it and come out stronger on the other side.

Considering the fact that we are in a tough spot right now with Ryan's health, being down to one income and the current economic crisis, I was convinced that despite the packed auditorium to which he was preaching, I was sure Joel was speaking directly to me. His words, as usual, seemed to be tailored to fit my life and current circumstances. He might as well have said "Lyn, you have the strength to get through this. Lyn, things will get better. Lyn, this is just a season and soon the winds will change and life will get better.

It is way too easy to get caught up in worrying about the future or lamenting the past. Sometimes it is hard to just be in the moment and recognize just how blessed we are. It may be true that money is tight and health status is unsure, but it is also true that today I am alive. Today I have a beautiful daughter who is currently "pushing" her dad in his wheelchair to the kitchen. Today I am healthy. Today I am blessed with a warm house. Today I have an amazing husband who against all odds is making changes to his life to live longer. Today I am blessed with a list of things seemingly endless.

Despite the labels of Christian, Jewish, Protestant, UU...one thing is for sure. God is good and is showering me with love and blessings today and I couldn't be more grateful.

Tragedy

2008-10-28T07:26:00.000-07:00

I was just reading some articles on line about the horrific tragedy actress/singer Jennifer Hudson is going through right now. I am an American Idol fanatic and was especially a fan of Jennifer Hudson. I just can't stop thinking about the pain she must be in. When my mom died young from Breast Cancer almost 8 years ago, I thought for sure the pain would kill me. There are still times to this day when I am stopped dead in my tracks and the wind is knocked out of me from a simple memory. A flash of her cold hand the morning I found her, a glimpse of leaning over the casket and kissing her cheek, any seemingly tiny thought that cascades into replaying her last 6 weeks from beginning to end. And then I try to imagine that pain magnified by 3. A mother, brother and nephew dead. How does someone survive that? I can't even begin to imagine. If you are the praying type, please send one out there for her. She'll need all she can get.

Naked Girl

2008-10-26T09:15:00.001-07:00

Not all readers will understand this post, but one sure will!

The other day I was picking Leah up from her sitter's house and asked how she had done. Leah had been acting a little under the weather so I was concerned if she had been eating and sleeping as usual. The sitter said "Yes, but...well...she has started doing this new thing....she keeps wanting to take her shirt off!!"

Thanks a lot, CORA GRACE!

Lady Leah Bug

2008-10-26T08:29:00.000-07:00

As most of you know, Halloween is my favorite holiday. In my basement/shed/garage (whichever place is currently storing stuff) are 2 large plastic tubs brandishing "Christmas" on the side....they are dwarfed next to the stack of 8, yes EIGHT, tubs holding the Halloween items. This year I have not decorated the house with the same abandon as usual since we just got Ryan back home from the nursing home, but there is still a full blown graveyard out front. In the attempt to pass on the tradition, Ryan told Leah yesterday about Halloween and the traditions of wearing costumes and knocking on doors and shouting "Trick or Treat!". She quickly learned that the combination of her adorable face, costume and angelic 2 year old voice equaled candy in her hot little hands. Here is the proof:

Virgin Blogger

2008-10-25T22:28:00.000-07:00

Well. Here goes nothing! I have been meaning to start this blog for quite some time. I have been inspired by many others and am glad to join the fray. I'm not sure what I'll have to say but I'm sure something interesting will come up!