As some of you know, November was quite a month for trials.  We almost lost my mom.  My sister called me one day at work and said, "They are taking mom by ambulance to the Montpelier Hospital, they don't know what's wrong but it's looking pretty bad, I'll call you back when I get more information." 

That information didn't come for a long time.  When it did the message was that they had decided to Life Flight my mom to the University of Utah Hospital in Salt Lake City.  I was beside myself but trying not to panic.  I started making arrangements for Xyla and I to fly to Utah.  A difficult thing to have to try to deal with less than a month on the new job.  Fortunately I am in the exact right place at the exact right time.  I was told to go, let them know what was going on and we would figure out the rest when I returned.  I felt blessed that day for having employers who understood and treated me like a human.

When you are flying to Utah for something like this with a small child you have to take things one step at a time.  You have to put the subject out of your head so you don't miss anything.  With new flying regulations and check in procedures it would be very easy to miss something important.  I was trying very hard to live in the moment so that Xyla wouldn't get anxious on the plane.  I tried her out to see if she would fit as a carry on.  She was a little big but they let me take her on anyway.  In the everyday things she is still trying to exert her independence.  She insisted on learning how to buckle her belt herself.  A child being able to walk is both a blessing and a curse at the airport.  She is big enough to help out a little but doesn't have the restraint and sense of direction to know where we are supposed to go.  No fewer than three melt downs but none lasting more than 2 minutes.

The food is pretty good and they cater but I don't recommend the University of Utah Hospital to anyone for family reunions.  If you are here it is most likely not a good thing especially if you are visiting the ICU, which is where mom was for more than two weeks.

This was kind of a weird experience for all involved.  The three people you see on the top left are mom's newly found half-brother, his mom and their friend.  She had just been visiting them the week before she wound up in Uof U.  Even though medical issues abound for them right now they just wanted to make sure they weren't going to lose her as soon as they found her.  Aunt Brenda (right) is one of the most level headed people I think I know.  She always remembered to ask questions no one else thought of.  Most of us were just glad that the doctors were coming in the room that we'd forget what it was we wanted to know.  We found out over time that an infection was causing her kidneys and liver to fail.  It was the size of a softball in an abscess on her liver.  How long it had been there, where it came from who knows.  On the bottom left you see Uncle Bob and Carol and Grandma Rena.  It was really hard on Grandma Rena.  She lives near Brenda but she lives alone so all the chaos and commotion and people and my excessive talking were more than she could handle, add to that the thought of losing your oldest child and honestly I am surprised she came out of it all ok.  On the bottom right you see what we did the most.  Waiting.  Waiting in various areas of the hospital.  Mostly we waited in the burn unit waiting room.  There were more chairs and another couple kindred through motorcycle enthusiasm, who were waiting also to hear about their mom who was in with pneumonia.  
Only two people could go in to see mom at a time so we all took turns.  The most cruel thing we witnessed was when they would bring her a breakfast of pancakes and steak (of all things) and then just as she was about to eat they would find some other test or procedure or some reason to take away the food.  When she was on dialysis they told her not to drink too many fluids, later the told her to drink copiously.  It was very confusing.  The fever, the toxins running through her body, the pain of dialysis and mom was delirious.  She was saying weird things and trying to stay lucid enough to "entertain guests" to no avail.  So many people came to visit her there.  I tried to get pictures of everyone but so many of them were able to sneak in and out before I could snap them off.  We all had the same reaction.  How weird it is to see the strongest women any of us knew in a hospital bed and uncertain as to how it would turn out.
The last little picture here could be mistaken for blood so let me be clear:  That is the second bag full of infection drained from the abscess.  It was several weeks and she was home before the tube was removed.  Once her kidneys and liver started functioning again they continued the antibiotics through IV.  Just before Christmas she went in for an appointment and they sent her home with a clean bill of health.  It is insane the body can go through so much and just pop out on the other side like  nothing happened.  Some people will tell you it is times like this that you start to realize what people mean to you.  I didn't need this event to emphasize that.  I have known all along what my mommy means to me.  I told her next time she needs a cleansing that we need to schedule some time at a spa.  I am going to have to make good on that.  

This one was a card.  I was honestly hoping they would let me just take it as the collage picture but oh well.  This is her harvest season pictures.  My neighbor is a fool for decorating and I, being the not so festive mommy, have taken advantage of her penache, with her knowledge of course.

The beginning of December was a good month.  This girl has to have her cheerios in a cup.  Won't eat them unless they are in a cup.  She also thinks potatoes make good toys.  I wasn't about to take it from her.  She doesn't play with them because she has to but because she wants to and that's good enough for me.  In the bottom left picture she is eating dirt.  Why would a mom let her kid eat dirt?  You can tell them it's yucky 100,000 times or you can let them try it out for themselves and never eat it again.  Fortunately she agrees that it is yucky.  And that last sweet picture - she is not in time out.  She likes to touch tummies together, doesn't matter who or in this case - what.

These are the angels of SMART Childcare.  I wish I could tell the world how much these women mean to me.  I went to visit them yesterday and they helped me understand what the regulations are and what I should be expecting from my current day care.  I am so blessed to have this daycare in Xyla's background.  So much of what she knows and the smarty pants she is can be attributed to Ms. Dana and Ms. Meka.

On the left are Xyla's friends Casey and O-b-o-b-o-b (in case you missed that it's Bob)  They are pretty rough and tumble but more like brothers to her.  She still talks about them.  If you think I wasn't serious about the learning stuff though on the right that is Xyla matching shapes at 16 months.

These are Xyla's cousins.  Faith and Arlecia are her favorites but that is because Louis is just learning how to walk.  Watching her with these two girls reminds me of what the world needs more of - massive quantities of excessive hugging - unless of course the overexhuberance of the hug renders both huggers to the ground, then there is crying - but only until they can figure out how to get untangled and back up to standing.

I know I haven't posted in a long time but here is the first of what will be a long line of photo catch ups.  I haven't had internet at home until now so I haven't be able to post at the library.  Takes too long.  I will talk about that later too.  For now enjoy this most recent picture of Xyla in her 2009 Holiday dress.

Aging in the snow.

I am from the north. If you are reading my blog, you know this. So 6 to 10 inches of snow is no big deal. I know from my experience in television news that the snow storm that is "100% coming", is probably going to shut down many small communities and much of Oklahoma City. However, the amount of snow it dumps will likely only be 2 to 3 inches. On my scale that is the same as driving on dry roads. On the Oklahoma scale it is worthy of closing schools and sending all non essential employees home for the day.

This storm was supposed to start yesterday . . . then it was pushed back to overnight . . . then it was pushed back to this morning . . . now it has been pushed back to noon and go through the evening. All we have seen of this storm so far has been wind. Lots of cold wind. Of course that isn't unusual for Oklahoma to see wind but yesterday right around closing time (in small towns that is 5:30) the WalMart (one of only three grocery stores in town) was packed to the brim. In case one might wonder if these shoppers were persons hitting the store last minute for presents for the holiday let me assure you, there were no and I mean no gallon size containers of water on the shelf. Which means people are preparing for a catergory 4 hurricane that could cause damage and leave people without services and food for months for a snow storm that, at best, will close the Safeway a little early today.

It isn't hard to panic the public down here, with stories of impending doom. That is why the weather men are the highest paid talent at the news stations. They do a good job of selling water. Of course the only time you should really panic is if you notice that a huge volume of old people are shopping for supplies and staples. These people are barometers. Their bones tell them if the storm is really coming or not so when they get the feeling they head to the store and pick up a few things. I do feel like I am starting to slide on that slope a little. Yesterday, my right knee was aching. If the pain magnifies witht he intensity of the storm I could understand why so many elderly people retire in Florida.

For now, though, I will just have to accept that I am getting older and my body is going to start telling me to do stuff when it used to be the other way around. Merry Christmas to all my friends and family.

Dreams...Part ?

I had just sold a house. I am walking through a two story victorian bequeathed to me through the passing of my grandfather. There are french doors off the library - that has no books. The french doors exit to a garden area where, if you were watching a Hollywood movie you would see a handler walking with two muzzled german pinschers. Obviously this would be a foreshadowing of a sticky security predicament. In this dream there are no security dogs. I can see through the ivy covered trellis like fence out on to the street and wonder about how safe this place really is. If it would be a concern to potential buyers. Bad things happen, even in good neighborhoods.

The day is an overcast and misty day. The sun is trying to burn off the mist to no avail. The dark clouds begin to take over the remaining light and I head back inside without particular urgency. Once inside, I am aware of a light on in a part of the house I had heard described as the servants dining area. It is attached to the kitchen. Traditionally there would have been a heavy wooden swinging door there as much to separate the noise of the kitchen as to mark the class of the people on either side. My grandfather had taken it down. He's never had servants. I had never known him to be more than a modest man so this home he lived in alone, surprised me. It is extravagant for a modest man. Two stories? That is so unlike him. It is very unlike me.

I hear the thunder and the crack of the lightening. I can tell the sky ouside has rained down in volumes unseen in a while.

I was thinking about selling this place. It was sort of just given to me with out much pretense. I am here to evaluate it and see if work needs to be done. As I move through these two rooms, I know that there is another floor above me and still many more rooms to see. The thought of selling it leaves my mind as I think about what it would take to maintain the lawn. I wonder if and where the tools to do so would have been left. I decide they were probably taken when the books were taken at the passing of my grandfather. I would have to invest in some more tools.

I hear dripping begin in the hallway or foyer, I am not sure which architectual descriptor to attach to the space. I choose to ignore it even though I know that more water will be coming through the ceiling. I should be finding pots and pans and whatever else might still be around to catch the water but I see the space in which I am standing was used most recently as a home office and is piled with clutter. Ignoring the bigger obvious problem, I start to sort and separate the clutter. Trying to throw out all things that are unnecessary, I scan each blank paper carefully so as to not miss something useful. Hours I am at this and making no headway. Either the room is getting larger or the clutter is multiplying like tribbles. Meanwhile, I look over to the hallway and I see the leaks need attention in a serious way. More water is coming through than before and I know if it continues it will cause structural damage that will be very costly to restore. For some reason I cannot let go of the clutter that is burying the room. Finally, I decide there is never going to be an end to the clutter and that it is not the more pressing need. As I step over unwritten letters and blank papers and junk and trash to get to the doorway of the kitchen, all I can think is, "fix your leaky house."

As we were performing our morning routine on Friday, X picked up her rubber duckie and said, "wasis". (That'd be what's this for those of you with out kids.) I told her "duckie". She repeated, "duckie". I, as a mom, was tickled that she repeated. Since she has been doing that and will be doing that I didn't think much of it.

So I take her to school for half the day. Then I bring her back to the office as I wasn't quite finished with what I was doing when I had to go get her. We are walking down the hall, we pass the door of one of my coworkers. He has an impressive display of wildlife oriented things and part of that display is a pair of duck decoys. She looks in his office as we start to pass his door and she spots them and hollers "duckie". She runs in picks them up by the bill and proceeds to carry them down the hall.

As you can see there is a big difference between these duckies and her rubber duckie at home. I mean the rubber duckie has a pacifier in it's mouth. She still recognized a duck shape and that is what impresses me. Now I will have to help her be able to identify different duck species because . . .

It obviously inspired these to appear anonymously on my desk this morning. These are 3T but it is never too early to get kids interested in the outdoors. Incidentally, I took a short tour of a gun shop here in town and they have a couple of rifles that are made for children that will fit these pants. I think it is possible to teach children this young about gun safety and how to hunt and shoot. The guns I saw in the store had pink handles and otherwise looked like toys. They were not toys. If I am going to get a gun for my kid, it had better look like a fire arm so there are no mistakes. Also there will not be any toys that are gun shaped in my house. We don't play with guns because guns are serious business. My parents would both be proud, though, if she was an accurate shot by 5.

Two posts ago . . .

How is this for, well, I don't know if it is considered irony or not.

Two posts ago I tell about a dream I had meeting an uncle I was vaguely aware of and today I find out that my mother has connected with two uncles I am pretty sure I never even heard about.

Weird. But my family is now two people bigger than I thought. Cool.