Saturday, May 16, 2009

Kinda Creeped Out Right Now

When we built our house, Workaholic wanted to put in a security system. I didn't want to spend the money, because we had just spent a fortune building a big house in a nice neighborhood, and I'll be damned if I spend more money protecting myself from...the rich teenagers that peruse my neighborhood?

And then our house started making weird noises. I'd hear what sounded like glass breaking in the basement. Or I'd hear a really big bang. (turns out that was a door slamming...just not sure why the door in the basement decided to randomly close) Or I'd hear a series of bangs. Sometimes Fonz would bark like crazy, usually not. He's one hell of a guard dog. I got used to the noises, they still weirded me out, but I wasn't scared like the first time I heard something. I've always been a little cautious about staying home alone, but I am not totally a scared-y cat.

Tonight, Workaholic is in Lafayette helping friends of ours build a fence. I didn't go, because I sort of feel like shit...I either have a cold or God decided to bless me with allergies. Samantha and I took two 3 hour naps was awesome. So I'm hanging out in my bedroom, Sam is down the hall in hers, and Fonz is asleep on the bed next to me. Quiet night, I've checked the doors twice to make sure they are locked.

And then I am scared shitless when I hear what sounds like someone pounding on the front door. My first thought is, "Why the hell are they knocking when they could just ring the doorbell?" And then I think that it sounds more like it came from inside the house. Damn dog...why isn't he worried? I jumped out of bed and ran into Samantha's room, flipping on the light. She sort of woke up, but she is fine. The thing is, she has a sliding glass door in her room, leading out to a balcony. She is on the second floor, but it still worries me. I call Fonz to come to the front door with me...and there is no one there. He was slow to come off the bed, go figure.

So I sort of do the rounds, turning on lots of lights, and re-check the doors. All is quiet now. And I think to myself, "I wish we had a security system. I wonder if the cops would be mad at me if I called and just asked them to come over and check things out." I figure they would be mad, and might not even come, so I don't call. No reason to cry wolf.

Now I am sitting on the bed, typing this while watching an old episode of Southland. Real smart to watch a cop show when I'm all worried about my house getting broken into. Every little noise I hear makes me jump, and I'm going to have Samantha sleep in her cradle in our room tonight. And when Workaholic gets home...we'll be pricing a security system.

Wednesday, May 13, 2009

The Famous Madeline

I am a big fan of other people’s blogs. This really isn’t a secret. I love nothing more than logging onto my computer in the morning, and see what Jen, Heather, Jennifer, and Jess have to say. Occasionally I’ll even check in on an ex-boyfriend…pretty sure he does the same. So goes the world of the internet, you become best friends with people who don’t even know you. You know details about their lives that would creep out normal people if you ran into them on the street. But they are bloggers, and that is the way it is.

There is one blog in particular that I just started reading on April 7th. I know the day, because it is the day that Heather and Mike’s daughter Maddie passed away. Heather started her blog as a way to communicate information to family and friends about their premature daughter, Maddie. Over the next year plus, it became extremely popular, Heather takes wonderful photos and Maddie is beautiful. Besides that, she is a fantastic writer.

Maddie had a horrible start to life; they didn’t think that she was going to make it. Several times, Heather and Mike were told that she might not make it through the night, and they thought they were going to lose her. But she did. She persevered. She made it home from the hospital after 68 days in the NICU. She made it to her first birthday. And she was thriving. Her lungs were weakened from being 11 weeks premature, and so she would sometimes have to be on oxygen at night. But other than that, she was living life to the fullest. There was no reason not to plan for a very bright future for Maddie.

On Saturday April 4th, she had a cough. On Sunday, she had congestion. On Monday, she was admitted to the hospital because her oxygen saturation was only 65-75, which in Heather’s word, WAS BAD. By Tuesday, April 7th, she had died. She was 17 months old. As a parent of a premature child, Heather knew that her daughter’s lungs were weak, but after all she had survived, dying didn’t seem to be possible. Not anymore. Because a parent isn’t supposed to lose a child.

Heather’s latest post took my breath away. It was so raw, so filled with emotion in such a simple way. She is in pain, the kind of pain that, God willing, I will never feel. I can’t even comprehend how she gets out of bed and is able to write a blog, and post pictures and video. I am in awe that she is so open, so willing to share her feelings with the world. And the world has responded in a positive way. Other than card and letters, they have donated thousands of dollars in Maddie’s name to March of Dimes. Maddie wouldn’t have made it home without the treatments that March of Dimes pioneered.

I hope that someday I have the courage to be open like that. Right now, I am kind of in a funk, but I can’t talk about it here because, well, I need my job. I try not to talk about it much at all, because I don't want to be that person who is always negative, always complaining. I can't do anything about it, just live life and enjoy my own little girl, because I have her, I am able to hold her and kiss her. I’m hoping that as time goes by, I’ll get used to things, but it’s not something I like to hear from other people. “It’ll get better”is the single most sentence in the English language that I despise. I read Heather’s posts, and my heart breaks for her, and then I run home and hug my own daughter. Because I am able to, and thanks to Heather, I appreciate Samantha just a little more.

Tuesday, May 12, 2009

Mother's Day on the Lake

Sunday was Mother’s Day, and it was a total coincidence that Samantha went on her first boat ride!!

It was a long getting ready process, as Workaholic and his brother had lots of tampering to do with the pier and the lift for the orange reject boat. By the time we got out on the lake, it was past 7pm. But it wasn’t too terribly cold, and the wind had died down a bit from earlier…to be honest, it was probably almost the nicest part of the whole day. We cruised around, the 5 of us, (of course we took Buster and the Fonz…couldn’t leave them stranded on the shore!) and checked out the changes that have taken place over the winter. Mostly I noticed how the trees were just getting a little bit greener, and how Samantha truly enjoyed admiring herself in the review mirror. (I think she likes her shades, thanks Grandma!) She’ll make an excellent spotter come surfing time. (That way no one can claim that we were out after an hour after sunset with no spotter. Take that BJ!)
You can't really tell here...but she is driving. She's got her hand on the throttle...

Really hoping Mother Nature cooperates in less than 2 weeks and gives us a beautiful Memorial Day Weekend. We’re ready for summer!!

Monday, May 4, 2009

This Powered Milk is De-licious!!

Every once in a while, I can tell something just. isn’t. right. And it usually isn’t a case of my gut instinct saying, “Hey Gail…what’s goin’ on?” It’s usually because I hear something, just faintly, that makes me need to check on things. Mostly, it involves me bolting from the spot that I am at to another spot not too far away, and then standing and laughing. Sometimes, I have to laugh later.

The first time I remember this happening at our current house is when Fonz got sprayed by the skunk. I heard, in the distance, a far off bark. But it wasn’t his usual bark, it was more of a yelp, and I knew something wasn’t right. So I rushed to the back door and began frantically calling for him, whistling, etc. And then I remember seeing him materialize out of the darkness, and stumbling, and then the smell hit me. Since then, I know that bark, and I know to just get the supplies ready.

Another time, I think it was my 30th birthday, we were at my parent’s house. Sitting in the dining room, which is just off the kitchen, and I heard something. For whatever reason, I bolted from my chair, like the house was on fire, thoroughly confusing everyone in attendance, and rushed into the kitchen. There was Fonz, next to the table in the breakfast nook, with the incriminating blue icing from my ice cream birthday cake still on his whiskers.

A more recent incident was when I was watching TV later at night and Samantha was already bedded down for the evening. I heard just a little something, a tiny little muffle, and got up to check on her. She had wiggled herself around so much that the blanket was covering her face, and she was not happy about it. (yes, we do put blankets with her in the crib, even though the temperature in her room is approximately 75 degrees, she has to have her pajamas on, her fleece swaddleme wrap, 2 fleece blankets and her comforter. Otherwise she is just freezing and will NOT sleep through the night) I could tell when I yanked the blanket down that either she had been in distress, or I just scared the crap out of her. (oddly enough, now she turns her face into her blankets whenever they are near her face)

And then there was last night. Again, lying in bed. Again, watching TV. And I heard something. We’d gotten back from Michigan not long before, and I’d only half unpacked. The can of formula I’d taken sat in the green bag behind the couch in our room. That is where the mysterious noise was coming from. So again, I leapt out of bed, rush to the couch, and find this…

Apparently, powdered baby formula is quite tasty. He not only got the lid off, but the scoop out of the can and was licking it clean when he was caught!

And he was so ashamed…