Update on Grandma D

The women in this family are a bunch of tough old broads.  The grace and strength they have displayed during some trying times is amazing.  Darlene had bypass surgery on Thursday.  The major artery to her left ventricle was 95% blocked.  (Remember kids: shortness of breath while doing nothing is a warning sign for so many issues.  So is passing out after standing up.)  The surgery went quickly with no complications.  We were able to see her by the late afternoon on Thursday.  (I am convinced that Purgatory will be like the waiting room of a hospital: so much waiting with little to do and old magazines to read.)  I went to visit her on Friday.  She was sitting up, and had been able to do so a couple times that day.  She told me, "Don't let anyone kid you; this really hurts."  Honest and blunt.  Her sense of humor is intact.  She said later, "Everyone has said I look better today.  I must have really looked crappy yesterday."  Went back yesterday.  She's still in the ICU.  The hope was that she was to be moved to a regular room yesterday, but that didn't happen.  She's really nauseous.  The nurses keep rebalancing the medication to relieve both the pain and the nausea.  (Could you imagine throwing up after having your chest cracked open?  No thank you.)

That is all for now.  She should be in there a couple more days, and, I think, she'll be moved to a rehabilitation facility to recover.


***Addendum:  This morning, unbeknownst to us, her lungs were full of fluid and had to be drained.  Would've been nice if one of the staff had called anyone in the family.

So long Macho Man

'Macho Man' Randy Savage died in a car accident today. My mentioning it may seem odd and out of place, but he was a big part of my childhood. My dad, brother, and I watched wrestling together, back in the day. I remember the very first WrestleMania. Macho Man, the Hulkster, Rowdy Roddy, George the Animal Steele, the Iron Sheik, the Russian guy (having a brain fart on his name). My dad took us to see it live at Veterans' Memorial Coliseum, along with some family friends. It was a proud moment for him when his young daughter chanted "bullshit" along with the rest of the capacity crowd. Ahh, good times.

Although I didn't know him, I still feel a twinge of loss. He was a big part of my youth and some very fond memories. (Losing Chuck Jones was the biggest loss from childhood.) If nothing else, this is a jog down memory lane that I can share with others. I wonder what those fond childhood memories will be for my kids.

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I finally saw "Tron Legacy"



So, I heard they were looking for Flynn.

They searched high and low for him.

Found him!  There he is!

The Massive "To Do" List

My to do list is epic, much on the level of a Tolstoy novel.  It is so massive that it is sub-categorized.  Seriously.  And, at long last, I have had enough.  It needs to go away and never return.  I have finally come to my senses and decided to delegate.  I know this completely flies in the face of "work ethic" and "do it yourself" and "this crappy economy".  Well, that's nice and all, but I've been staring at the same items month after month, without the slightest hope of ever crossing an item of that damn list.  What finally set me on the path of delegation?  Ironing.  Yup, ironing.  I despise ironing (and I'm a little resentful about doing the chore).  I fell so far behind that Tim was running out of clothes to wear and I would have to press something before he left for work that day.  A few weeks ago, I finally collapsed under stress and depression.  I grabbed the five most difficult shirts from his closet and took them to a dry cleaner.  I felt no shame or remorse for my actions.  When I picked up that batch, I dropped of four more shirts.  When I picked up that batch, I dropped off every shirt in his closet that was in need of ironing.  An enormous weight had been lifted.  Yes, I am able bodied and I can do it myself and I have the ability to do it myself.  But, you know what, I am tired of spending my time doing things I despise.  I would like my spare time to be reserved for doing things I actually enjoy (or at least spending only half the time doing stuff that needs to be done instead of all of my time).  Yesterday, the yard guys came.  They cleaned up in three hours what I haven't been able to do in months.  I don't mind planting in the garden.  But, weeding sucks, and with my carpal tunnel, it really hurts.  (A few weeks ago, I lost several days of productivity due to a rogue tube of cinnamon rolls.  It was quite embarrassing.)  Today, workmen are here running coax and Cat-5 cables from the house to the office.  That item was placed on the to do list four years ago.  It's finally getting done.  And, at long last, I have no guilt about it, whatsoever.

I admire others who have the time, inclination, and energy to do everything.  I read their status updates about spending the day sewing 300 burp cloths, cleaning the house, cooking 40 freezer meals, then taking the kids for a walk. They work all day (either at an office or raising children), and then work on the house, go hiking/skiing/running/biking, go to a game/concert/play/tarot reading, study for school, entertain, and volunteer.  I barely have the energy to drag my ass out of bed, much less accomplish anything nowadays.  Can someone find a way to add more hours to the day?  Technology should be advanced enough to do that, right?

If you give a toddler a hose

This is Flynn's idea of watering the garden.  (Shot from the safety and dryness of the house.)

We were all soaked within five minutes.

I've been meaning to write, but...

Since my return from my Vacation to Restore Sanity, life has been a blur.  Blur with a capital B.  Instead of rambling on and on about why it's been a blur, let's turn to some handy bullet points.

A five week condensed course is great in theory.  In practice, and when it coincides with a ten week regular course, it blows.

Old friends stopped by for a visit.  It was great to see them again.  The super short notice added to the week of super-stress.  Oh well.  The unfortunate part of their visit was when the pipes under the sink ruptured.  I stopped freakin' and called Beacon.

Drake has his first trip to the ER.  I'm surprised he made it to the ripe old age of four before it happened.  I assumed it would have happened much sooner.  Head injuries produce copious amounts of blood.  I don't deal well with blood.  On the upside, the new ER at Tacoma General/Mary Bridge Children's Hospital is lovely.

Easter.  The boys were pleasantly surprised that the plastic eggs were filled with candy. 

I turned 37.  Not such a big deal.  It happens.

Mother's Day was delightful.  (Thank you, boys.  All three of you.)

Flynn has started potty training.  I give him nickels as a reward.  (My kids prefer monetary rewards.)  He places his cash in the "Donation" portion of his piggy bank.  It's nice to see it all going to a good cause.

Depression makes me a lousy mother.  Time to go and get some happy pills.

And there you have it.  The last 7 1/2 weeks in a nice, tidy package.  I will hopefully return to my regularly scheduled writing soon, maybe once the quarter has ended.  :)