If absolutely nothing happens during your day....

do you still blog? I've been taking it VERY easy. Just staying in bed and reading and sleeping (with the occasional bathroom trip). But I'm totally improving. Now, instead of feeling like I did 2000 sit ups, I feel like I did about 200. Jay is home for one more day and then it's showtime! Yikes.

Um....apparently....I do still blog!:)

The Appendectomy

I looked at the clock and it was just after 3:00 in the morning. My stomach felt like there were sharp needles stabbing me through my intestines. I got up and tried to go to the bathroom without success. The pain was annoying enough that I couldn't fall back asleep. I shifted positions several times and every time I moved, I felt the pain gravitate. At 5:00 Henry woke up crying. I'm never quite sure what happens when the twins put him to bed so got up to check that he still had a diaper on or something. You never know with them. He was fine but hungry so I gave him a bottle. My stomach was killing me but I could walk. I tried to go to the bathroom again but still couldn't. I got back in bed and sort of moaned for an hour. Finally, at around 6:00, I woke Jay up and told him that I was sick and that I needed him to take care of the kids. He asked me all sorts of questions, pushed where it hurt and told me to wait for an hour to see if the pain went away or got worse.

All three of the boys had woken up around 6:30 and Jay got up with them. By 6:45, I was crying and told Jay something was really wrong. I could no longer move without great pain. He started getting the boys ready and we brainstormed as to what to do with our kids. He called KariAnn at 7:00 and asked if we could bring Seth and Sammy over. I thought Andrea could take Henry but we couldn't get a hold of her. Everyone was ready by 7:45 but I was stuck in bed. The thought crossed my mind that an ambulance ride would be easier. I just couldn't see how I could get out of bed, walk upstairs and get in the van. I sat up and felt faint and lightheaded. Jay sprinted upstairs to get me a bowl and made it just in time. When I was done throwing up, Jay helped me up and we took all the kids to KariAnn's. We still hadn't been able to get a hold of Andrea so they took Henry too and told us they'd arrange it with them. As we drove away from KariAnn's house, I told Jay that leaving my three kids with a woman who just had a new baby three weeks ago was so unbelievably wrong. Thankfully, KariAnn is like WonderWoman and deep down, I knew she could handle it.

The drive was excruciating. The roads here are notoriously bad. Potholes and cracks everywhere. Every bump was like a punch on the side. Jay got me a wheelchair and pushed me into the ER. I only had to wait for about 10 minutes and if I held very still, the pain was manageable. When the triage nurse was getting my info, I threw up again. They took me to a room and transferred me to a stretcher. I hadn't had anything to drink since dinner the night before and I was very dehydrated. They could not find a vein to draw blood from. First the nurse tried. She managed to get an IV in but couldn't get blood. Next came some guy who looked at both of my hands and arms and kept saying how tiny my veins were. Aww....shucks. But tiny veins is no compliment. Tiny veins hurt. First he tried my arm. Nothing. Both hands...twice. Nothing. He said they have a "two times and their out" policy with poking people and called IV therapy to come. She tried for probably 30 minutes but couldn't find any blood either so ended up doing a finger stick and scraping it for 10 minutes to fill three small tubes of blood.

One of the sites where they tried to draw blood.

There was a mental patient next door that was keeping every one entertained. ERs are interesting places. She kept going on and on about getting water and food and then shouted out that she needed to call her dentist. Finally the police took her away.

They wheeled me to radiology for a CT and Jay was in his element. He hadn't told anybody yet that he worked there which surprised me. We saw another resident in the hallway and I'm sure I looked precious with my bird's nest hair, pale face and grimace. Jay knew all the techs and told them to take good care of me. They were all very nice. The CT didn't take very long and Jay told me as they were wheeling me back to ER that it was appendicitis. I was relieved.

One of the annoying things about being married to a doctor is the pressure to actually be sick when you feel like crud. I would have hated to cause such a scene only to be told that I had gas or something. So...phew with the nasty appendix.

We had to wait for the surgeon to get done with a surgery but I had morphine going on now and didn't feel quite so miserable. Everyone was so nice. The nurses and transport people. I was cold so they put warm blankets on me and tucked me in so I wasn't exposing flesh. I really felt like I was receiving good care.

The surgeon came and I immediately didn't like him. He had a horrible bedside manner. He just had this smug, bored look and when he asked me to describe my pain, I felt like I was auditioning for surgery. I told him how it started but that now, it was very localized to my right side and he commented that "that's straight from a textbook".

Jay came with me to pre-op and I had to run through the whole rigmarole again. All of the questions...history.....etc. I bet I had to say my weight in front of Jay about 20 times. The first time was embarrassing enough but didn't they write it down anywhere?

I gave consent to everyone, the nurses, the anesthesiologist, and finally the surgeon (who came about 45 minutes later). They wheeled me into the OR and I saw all of the lights and the room. The doctor put a mask on my face and told me it was oxygen and that's it. Lights out.

I vaguely remember waking up and scratching my nose only to have my hands batted away. I think I was indecent too. I remember my back and shoulder being exposed and wanting to be covered but I couldn't talk.

The next thing I remember is being in my room and having to go to the bathroom. It took me probably 10 minutes to work up the courage to get out of bed and as I walked, I saw another bed! I wasn't alone! I felt depressed. I did not want to share a room.

Jay came soon after with the kids and it was hard. Henry was screeching and when I held him, all he wanted to do was push the buttons on the bed. Sammy kept hitting himself in the head for reasons still unknown to me. Seth ignored me and acted bored. They did give me cute cards though. Jay was scanner sitting that night which meant he would still be in the hospital but over in a different wing with the boys. He just has to be there in case anything happens with the patients getting contrast (which I guess is a risk but it never happens) so he fed them dinner and left.

I had an IV in and a PCA (with morphine) but it made me feel like I had to pee every hour. I was miserable. I asked if they could take it out and if I could just drink water but they worried it would make me nauseated to have anything in my stomach. I only felt pain when I moved and I only moved when I had to go to the bathroom which I only had to do because I had the IV which I only needed because I had the PCA which I only used when I went to the bathroom. Oh well.

Jay brought me flowers when he came to say goodnight after scanner sitting and the gift shop delivered some flowers from Jen and Christopher. Andrea and Rebecca came to see me and brought me flowers too.

Pretty flowers from Rebecca and Andrea and Jen and Christopher

Jay got me a sturdy plant

I tried to go to bed around 10:00 but it's impossible in a hospital. The woman I was sharing a room with had had her uterus, ovaries, cervix all taken out and bladder reconstruction done. She was totally hurting and needed a lot of nurse attention. She also needed the TV to be on at all times, even when she was sleeping. All of the little worker bees never seemed to come in at the same time and it seemed there was a nurse/nursing assistant, phelbotomist/janitor in there the entire night. I know I never slept more than an hour straight. I had THE most annoying CNA in the middle of the night that I would describe but this is already too long and I could go on and on about her and her little white barrettes and her power trip.

It seemed once morning came around that I couldn't get a nurse's attention. My surgeon came and talked to me for all of three minutes. One of Jay's resident friend came to say hello. Nice...but awkward in my hospital gown and matted hair. I really wanted to be discharged by 11:00 and had to make a lot of noise for it to get done. I managed to get out of there by 11:20. Jay took Henry over to Rebecca's (who had picked Sammy up from preschool) and I crashed at home. Jay didn't get home until 3:30 (he had to go do mock boards at the hospital) and I was really hurting by then. I was surprised how much more I hurt at home than I had at the hospital.

Andrea brought dinner over and I stayed in bed until about 8:30. I got up hoping for a new Office or Grey's Anatomy but both were reruns so we watched the movie Invincible. I popped a couple of Lortabs before bed and slept until 5:00...took another one and slept until almost 10. I feel pretty good today. Sore but aware. I took my first shower in three days and feel clean and squeaky.

This was totally boring but I needed to document it. I'm so grateful for Jay for taking the time to take care of me and our kids. And, obviously, to my wonderful friends who haven't batted an eye when the burden was shifted to them. I'm amazed by all of the long-distance offerings of help. I know some really wonderful people.

Thank you all!

Flowers from my mother and father-in-law

I'm Home

I just got home from the hospital. Thanks for the calls, well wishes and flowers. I'll post more later but I'm tired. The hospital is an awful place to get rest!

Jay posted some info. Ne'er fret. I've got lots of funny tidbits in my head. I just need to lose the fog first.

Mirror Mirror Self Portrait Challenge

Painful on so many levels. I'm not a huge fan of mirrors because I don't feel inside what I look like outside. I'm like the anti-anorexic. When I see myself in a mirror or in picture (especially) I'm always shocked! Where is that athletic, young, well-maintained person I am in my head? I think back in 1996. Ouch.

I decided to join in on the challenges because I think this is what blogging is all about. Who we are, who we portray ourselves to be...and what the difference between the two actually is. I am showing me in different angles because I am different depending on the perspective. As a daughter, I am loyal, obedient and aim to please. As a sister, I am funny, ditsy, and open. As a wife, I am supportive, flexible, a partner and probably a little annoying. As a mom I am independent, educated, loving and a bit negligent. As a friend...some of each for different people. But I am more than what you see.

If no one is looking, what do I see? I see someone who wants the approval of others. I see someone capable of great things. I see a girl who could be happier. I see a girl with blessings beyond measure. Someone not rising to her potential. Someone the Lord can depend on.

I see someone who I like. A Lot.

But she can bug the crap out of me.

Merciless Monday

Today hasn't turned out the way I'd intended. Sammy woke up sick. I think he may have the flu. He's had a fever all day with the chills and aches. He fell asleep spontaneously on the couch and has only eaten a milkshake (that was one of my favorite "sick" foods growing up). Poor kid.

This NEVER happens.

Watching Arthur

I called the painters this morning because I hadn't heard from them since our initial consult. He never did come back with a written bid which isn't a great sign. When he called me back, he apologized and said he had gone out of town. Whatever. He came with the two painters (who looked like legitimate painters in their white jeans with paint all over them) and they all spoke Russian to each other. You know that feeling you get when you're getting a pedicure with your friend, and the two ladies giving you both your pedicures start talking to each other? I'm always sure they are talking about how gross my cracked heels are. I was sure these guys were talking about my somehow inferior bathroom. I just stood there waiting for a translation. (Um...Shelah...about your offer....) The business man (one who came last Friday) assured me they weren't saying anything bad. But it makes me so nervous not to know what is being said. I kept going over the things he told me he would do on Friday. Are they going to get the paint for the bathroom? And they know they need to paint the ceiling too? And retexture the wall? And paint the railing? Somehow, I am sure some of it will be lost in translation.

The bad news is that there is some leak in my bathtub causing moisture in the wall which is the source of the damage. It's obviously not a huge leak as it's taken five years for the drywall to crumble but they took off the cover to the tub and felt wetness underneath. I have to decide if I want them to fix the walls and leave the next owners to deal with this small leak or find a plumber to fix it. Jay left his cell phone at home today so I haven't been able to talk to him about it but I'm thinking we'll need to fix the leak. I don't think a home inspector would miss that. Ugh. It's always something.

The infamous burgundy and brass bathroom.

My bedroom that I painted a while back. Never posted a picture so here it is!

They also couldn't do it today. Of course. So they are coming tomorrow which might be pointless if I can't get this leak fixed. Derzic gave me the written bid which was $100 more than he verbally told me. He changed it to $550 when I called him on it and acted like he did so many bids that he just couldn't remember what he told me. Hmmmmm.

I am also starting a yelling fast. Honestly, I don't think I yell any more than the average mom. But Seth is such a sensitive soul and he calls me out on any inconsistency. He knows when I yell that I'm breaking the rules. Yesterday, he went to mormon.org and sent a bunch of ecards. I got one. Here it is.

So, no more yelling for me. I'm going to be the Gandhi of yelling. That is just not a memory I want my kids to have of me. And I don't yell at anyone else...ever. I don't know why I've let myself think it's o.k. with them. It's a habit I'm going to break.

Book Review #37 - Letters

You know the wife of President Hinckley must have been an amazing woman. This book is a compilation of letters she wrote that were saved by her children, sisters, friends and grandchildren and was published after she died in 2004. Her own words show her to be funny, strong, supportive, compassionate, a hard worker and true believer. In addition, her and President Hinckley's history is told with wonderful bluntness. The busyness of business, the jet lag, toll on family and marriage that come from being an apostle and prophet all glare at the reader. But so does the unwavering faith and joy that each of them found in spreading the gospel. There is a letter written by President Hinckley at the end of the book, that brought tears to my eyes. This is a wonderful and inspiring read.

Book Review #36 - For Whom The Bell Tolls

I cannot remember why I checked this book out. I saw it on something and like to throw in a classic every once in a while. The only Hemingway I've ever read is The Old Man and the Sea in high school. One of my great regrets is not taking any great literature classes in college. Writing papers scared me to death! But, I think some books need the classroom setting to explore and explain why they are so great. This is one of those books.

For Whom the Bell Tolls is a book about the Spanish Civil War. Robert Jordan, an American, is over in Spain fighting with the International Brigades in behalf of the anti-fascists or Republicans. His mission is to blow up a bridge and seeks the aid of a small guerrilla group hiding in the mountains led by a drunken, broken man named Pablo. The book takes place over a four day span and much of the book centers around the theme of death. What is bravery or cowardice? What is a man's life worth in comparison to a great cause?

I had read a little about Hemingway's prose. The most common descriptions are "terse" and "understated". His sentences tend to be shorter and more direct without losing any vividness. They are just more direct. This was no easy read for me. All of the dialogue was written in old English as a direct translation from Spanish. Lots and lots of "thee"s "thou"s and "thy"s. Sometimes, I felt like I was reading the scriptures but without the uplifting part of it:) Whenever the characters were mad at each other or at the situation, a popular phrase used was "I obscenity in the milk of...." which is probably a vulgar profanity but since I don't know what it means, I plead pure ignorance. The dialogue was hard to read. It got easier but this took me days to get into.

Hard or not, I think it's a worthwhile novel. Hemingway took his title from a poem written by John Donne:


"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were. Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind; and therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

This was Robert Jordan's enlightenment. This was his awakening.

Blond Ambition

Kristin inspired me to return to moody Armand. What she didn't warn me about was that now he was an aspiring actor!

Jay and I have been watching Season 1 of the HBO show "Extras" with Ricky Gervais, creator of The Office in Britain and the actor that played the boss in that version. It's pretty funny. Can be crude. The premise of the first season is that he is constantly cast as an extra on shows with famous actors hoping that eventually their luck will rub off on him.

I totally felt like I was in that TV show listening to Armand talking about getting his big break. But after ten minutes I just didn't have anything else to say. Is it rude to just be quiet the whole time?

Luckily, an aspiring actress was in the booth next to us an they talked the entire time about head shots and this casting director that was going to be their "golden door" in Hollywood.

Good luck, Armand.

Here's my new blond hair. I told him to do anything he wanted. Funny, he cut it pretty much just like I would have asked him to do which was what I was trying to avoid (so I didn't have my high school hair!). But, I like it anyway.

Of course, when your son takes your picture there isn't a 100% guarantee it'll all get in the shot!

Going Towards The Light

It is no secret that we are moving soon. It seems to come up frequently in my posts. It is also no secret that we have been doing work on the house and that the work has been going slow. It is unfortunate that we are doing it now because I think of any of the five years we have been here, Jay is the busiest this year. The first couple of years, he had time to work on and improve his woodworking hobby and build us a number of items. Now that we actually need his skills for real work, there is just not time for him to do it.

I made a list last week of everything I can think of that needs to be done before the move.

Gak!

It's rather lengthy. Most of the list are things I need to do. Declutter closets etc. But several are big jobs. Jobs that take days. There are more than 31 things on the list which means that I have to finish more than one job per day to be ready by April, which is my goal.

After our last debacle in hiring out jobs (read here, here, here , here, and here - it was an awful week) we've been doing everything solo. But solo is slow. I've long since wanted to call in some troops to finish the stuff that I cannot do and that Jay is too busy to do. Whenever I bring it up to Jay, he feels guilty and assures me that he will get it done. End of discussion. The one thing he agreed to was a phone call about it some drywall repair that we need done in our bathroom. Conveniently enough, a valupak mailer came this week with a coupon for a painter/drywall repair guy. I left a message and the guy called me back last night. The caller ID showed a name that you don't see every day. The voice confirmed it. I seem to have stumbled upon another Russian/Ukrainian worker.

I was more prepared this time, however, for the unusual business practice of our former foes. Jay and I decided that the job was not bigger than $200 and that was my topped out number. I was willing to show him cash a la Dave Ramsey style.

He arrived an hour ago and I showed him the bathroom first. It also needs repainted so I asked him if he'd included that in his bid. He didn't say much and I was worried that he was going to tell me that the walls needed to be knocked down and replaced but instead he just said, "it is a small job."

I replied, "Too small?"

He shook his head and said, "No...it is a job."

My intention is not to exploit but I did recognize that tone of desperation in his voice and that a paying job was for his benefit as well as mine.

I walked him upstairs to look at the wall in our living room. THE wall. The wall that has been burning my eyes for nine months now. It can't just be repainted. It needs either to be retexturized or covered. We had decided to go with the covering until I thought of asking this guy if he thought he could fix it and paint it so that it looked uniform. He didn't say anything for a long time. I kept talking. This is what we want to do. We have the moulding already. We need another coat of paint on this stair railing, we need some touch up work over on this wall.

Still nothing from him.

All my kids are sick with Strep throat so Seth is home from school today and chose that moment to crawl on my lap. So, I am sitting there while he is staring at the wall. I ask him if he needs a tape measure or something. No, he says. More silence. But I can tell what is happening. Game on.

He looks at me and tells me that women always get a better deal than men because they always say they don't have very much money. I smile and reply that in our case, Jay could do it all, but it is a time thing. But we aren't desperate (O.K...I am. But I lied) and if we can't afford it, we'll just do it ourselves. He told me that normally, he'd say $950. But, because we are getting ready to move and need it done fast that he would do it for $550 if I paid in cash. (Does that seem backwards to anyone else but me?)

I pin him down on what exactly he would do for $550. This was when we got in trouble last time. He included the bathroom - fixing the wall and painting the room and ceiling. The living room - retexturing the wall, painting it, putting up the moulding, painting it AND painting the stair rail.

Considering Jay and I were willing to pay $200 for fixing the bathroom wall alone, my stomach was doing leaps of joy but I simply said that I needed to call my husband. He got his shoes on and I thought of a couple more questions.

"Does that include tax?" I asked.

"550 - cash. Total. But it has to be cash" he replied.

Uh-huh.

Me: And when can you do this?

Russian: I could have a couple of guys here on Monday.

Me: Really? A one day job?

Russian: As long as you keep the heat on in your house.

Um....O.K. I'll do that. ( !?! )

I called Jay and told him the story. He laughed but agreed that it was a good deal. I called him back and told him that I wanted a written agreement but that we wanted to forge ahead. He's coming back later this afternoon with the contract.

It's not like I set out to find another shady deal. I've tried it three ways now: a reference from a friend, craigslist and now valupak mailers. I don't know what else to do. I don't know how else to hire someone.

I'm like a moth to the flame.

In My Defense

I think I came off a little snooty in my last post. At least like someone with too high of expectations. Lest you think I'm some kind of monster mom who expects perfection, I thought I'd post Seth's classroom project... the diorama.

Proud as a peacock here!

Now, an interpretation.



He draws his scene from the Magic Tree House book "Polar Bears at Bedtime" by Mary Pope Osborne. The blue is the sky (which we had to change frantically this morning to black because....the story takes place at BEDTIME!) The white paper is ice. The crumpled up paper is a glacier mountain. The cotton balls are polar bears (big one is the mama and the two other blobs are the cubs). And Jack and Annie are on their side because they are crawling. And they are wearing brown because they found seal skin coats.

100% Seth. I had no hand in this at all. (Can't you tell???) He was so unbelievably happy with his work. I think I got five hugs as I was putting him to bed (he's physical when he's content).
I love that he's so pleased. And if that is the point (because I can not think of a single other one) than I'm glad they have to do this project.

He Blinded Me With Science

I kept waiting for Jay to blog about this. He complains about having nothing to blog about and this was definitely more him than me but it is too good to forget about.

Every year, Seth's elementary school hosts a science fair. Most schools probably do. Seth's school is particularly proud of it's elitist reputation and many parents go above and beyond to "outdo" each other. I've heard this is the case with the science fair and while we didn't want to compete, per say, we did want Seth to shine.

Ideally, Seth would have picked out his own experiment. But his suggestions were retarded. Not to mention untestable. (I hope you all interpreted my "being funny" tone and don't think I actually think my son is retarded - you never know with the written word). One of his ideas was to see who followed buses better, me or his dad. ??????? One was who could drink the fastest. I kept asking him what he was trying to prove and it was so clear in his mind but in the name of real science...I couldn't do it. I graduated with a degree in Microbiology and Jay is a medical doctor. His teacher kept saying "Seth's project should be amazing with you two as his parents." Um....no pressure. So, you see how the bus following project just couldn't be.

Jay came home with a great, easy idea he got off the internet about growing bacteria. Perfect. The trouble was in convincing Seth it was interesting enough to do. We prettied it up as best we could but he wasn't very enthusiastic. Jay went and bought the supplies: five petri dishes, and plain gelatin. We already had sugar and plenty of germs:)

Our first attempt didn't go so well. The petri dishes were plastic but obviously not sterile as we just picked them out of a big plastic bin at the store. The internet directions mentioned boiling for sterilization and we put the dishes into a pot boiling water. These were not safe-for-boiling dishes though. They totally warped. We thought we'd do a practice experiment with them anyhow and Jay mixed up the gelatin, sugar and water and poured the homemade agar into each container. When they were set, Sam, Seth, Jay and I all rubbed our fingers over the agar of our individual petri dish.

They weren't pretty but it totally worked. After a couple of days, you could see little colonies of bacteria growing on each petri dish. None of us used the same pattern with our fingers but as it wasn't the "real" experiment we weren't worried. Seth saw the little circles and started to understand how those circles were giant clusters of bacteria. He seemed more excited.

We tried again the weekend Jay got home and Jen and Christopher were here. Jay made the plates and this time they were perfect. This was going to be a controlled experiment. Seth, Ansel, Jonas and Sam each went to the bathroom and wiped. Seth didn't wash his hands and made zig zags on his agar. Ansel rinsed with water and made the same zig zag. Jonas washed with soap and water and Sammy used hand sanitizer. The hypothesis? That washing with soap and water would produce the least amount of bacteria, followed by hand sanitizer, water only and last of all the gross, unwashed hands.

We were a bit short on time. It was Saturday and the project was due Wednesday. Bacteria grow better in warmer conditions. Bright idea....put petri dishes in a warmer place so that our results show quicker. Jay put them close to our heat dish which puts out the most heat in our house. When he checked back later that evening, he realized his mistake. The agar had completely melted and was liquid again. Project ruined.

That night, while I was sleeping, Jay and Seth set out to run another experiment. This time it was Seth's idea. He wanted to see if different liquids weighed different amounts. Great idea! This is real science. With a measuring cup, Jay poured out a cup of water, a cup of all the different fat contents of milk (we seem to need all of the varieties), one of orange juice and one of maple syrup. Seth was so excited with his results that all of the liquids weighed a different amount! But, of course, they aren't supposed to. Except for the syrup. We tried to explain it to Seth that 8.1 and 8.4 were basically the same but the measuring wasn't exact but I think we just confused him more. He's big into numbers and 8.1 and 8.4 are definitely not the same! He still doesn't get it and when trying to explain it, we've realized that more complicated science is required that is way over his head. Actually, it's kind of over my head.

We ended up just skipping the science fair. Kind of sad but necessary. I don't think we impressed his teacher.

Seth wasn't even disappointed. The only reason he wanted to do it was so that he could pick something out of "treasure trunk".

He picked out a ruler.

Skipping

When I was in seventh grade, my English teacher made us all make a poetry book. We had to write a poem in several of the different techniques and one of mine was about skipping. I'm not sure what technique it was but it is written in the form of a curvy path (which took a great deal of effort in those early computer days). My poetry book is safely tucked away in one of my parent's bookshelves in Montana or I'd take a picture of it for all to enjoy. But here is the basic gist.

On my road of life, I'm skipping....then I trip and fall into a deep, dark hole (very dramatic) ....I shout at people to help me out or notice me but no one does...drama, drama, drama....I make my way out of the hole and start skipping again but now I skip with a limp.

Jay got his hands on this precious book back when we were dating and laughed as hard as I had ever seen him laugh. He started hobbling around the room mocking me as I chased him trying to get my book back. I was horrified that he would mock my earlier sensibilities. Alright, I admit now that it was overly dramatic to equate pimples, being a giant and freak among the boys (I was 5'9" by the end of the year) or the shifting of friendships that inevitably happens when anyone goes to middle school with falling in a deep hole but such is the view of a thirteen year old drama queen.

Really, I think skipping gets a bad rap. It's use is almost exclusively limited to being a metaphor for happiness or a motion young children use to play. But no more.

I skipped yesterday. Seth loves to skip and as we were walking out of the church building, he said, "let's skip." He has said this before and I've properly ignored him, but yesterday I was particularly loving him because he gave a great talk in primary and looked so dashing in his little suit coat and diagonal tie. Yes, I felt embarrassed because I didn't have a jog bra on and that's never pretty. Not to mention that if I saw someone (an adult) skipping down the road (in a skirt no less) I would make fun of her. I wouldn't roll down my window and shout out "loser!" but I would privately chortle and snicker. But, skip I did and I learned something profound on top of being the coolest mom ever in Seth's eyes.

It is a fabulous workout. I don't know why this hasn't caught on. It's way harder than jogging yet it's a motion anyone can do. It's free, low-impact, major cardio and fantastic on the quads and calves. After one block, I realized that I may be onto something. This could be the next fitness craze! Forget Tai-Bo, forget pilates....rediscover your childhood love of skipping! I dare you to try it. You could even use the guise of holding onto the hand of a six-year old like I did.

Oh....and the limp was gone.

Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda

I've been in a blogging funk this week. Thank goodness for book reviews to give me something to type! But every other thing that's inspired me has puttered out. Rather than lose them completely, here is a snippet of what could have been.

Positive Reinforcement

I don't like to cook. It probably stems from my dislike of leaving my house for mundane chores, choosing food for a week or more, putting it all away into cupboards that are unorganized and randomly arranged, realizing I don't have exactly what I need most times, making it wrong because I didn't give it enough time and I've realized most things don't turn out exactly how I expect them to, competing with my kids to have a conversation with Jay (that's immature but I'm excited to see him too!) and of course, the clean up.

But I get such positive reinforcement on the nights I do it, if all of those theories held true, I'd whip up a seven course dinner every night. The kids are thrilled with setting the table, Jay is almost giddy with delight at having a home cooked meal and time to sit and eat with his family and I lose the guilt of not providing for my man. And yet....two or three times a week (sometimes more) there is nothing on the table. Curious phenomenon.

The Babysitter

Somehow, I don't see this becoming fodder for any parenting magazine. Henry is scared of going down stairs. Going up....that is child's play. There isn't a stair, step, stool or elevation he won't master but going down has developed into an almost phobia for him.

I put out the gates at the appropriate time. Eventually I put them away when I realized that he won't dare come down. Not even with me on the steps beside him, gently tugging on him to go down backward on his belly. We call it the Belly Bump. It's worked with the other boys. But if I even reach for him to position him on his belly near the stairs, he speed crawls away. At first it was annoying because I hiked up the stairs every time he even whimpered at the top of the stairs (he is ALWAYS upstairs....they must be climbed) but now, I can leave him up there for awhile. I can even shower knowing that he'll never fall down those stairs. Well... he's fallen down once. Could that be why he's so scared?

Poor tyke.

Health Care

I went visiting teaching on Wednesday night and came home feeling even more grateful for the blessings I have in my life. Stable parents who ground Jay and me and gave us the tools for success. Siblings who we look up to and enjoy being around. A husband whose job provides medical insurance for all of us. I've thought a lot about health care this week. I really should save this for another day. I have a feeling we will see a significant change in how it works in this country during our lifetime. I'd like to look back and remember how it now so I have a clear memory for comparison.

Sisters

I've had some great interaction with my sisters this week. Sarah has been keeping me laughing all week with her dating stories (agony!), I'm planning a visit with Maureen this weekend, Tara is always good for an over the phone recipe (I love her mac and cheese!) and patient with me when I keep losing them, Jen sent me a coveted CD out of the blue (love it!)

it's so good!

and Emily is my online friend (I can't even remember the last time we talked on the phone. Blasted international rates) who I can always count on to give me a giggle.

Remember these?

It's been awhile since I've gotten a note with a box to check. I'm not sure where Seth learned it but it made me smile. He left it on my bed with instructions written on front to "open in the morning".

I accidentally cropped off the boxes on the bottom. He likes the card games!

When A Big Girl Runs

Runners are supposed to be little. Real runners are. But it's such an easy form of exercise and burns so many calories that I keep trying it. I've been doing the Couch to 5K program but have been stuck at week 2's schedule for about four weeks now. Andrea and I went to the gym twice this week and the first time it was like running in cement. Yesterday felt fantastic. I could have kept going for twenty more minutes. I kept getting faster and faster during my 90 second runs so that at the end I was running at 6.0 mph (which I KNOW is not really fast but for me it's a damn sprint).

The problem with the entire program is the public nature of running on treadmills as I do not own one. What to do? Walk discreetly, as to not draw attention to the pound of each footstep and save a little face? Or run like the wind, shaking the gym with the gyrations of the treadmill but making it a little more likely to eventually be at a size that does not cause a scene? If I had a million dollars....I'd buy me a treadmill....and a house big enough to have room to put it in....and some fancy pants to reduce friction.

Bye, Bye Birdie

What do you get when you mix 20 teenagers, a vocal coach who has never seen or heard the music before and a pianist who doesn't sight read all that well? A very, extremely, almost-too-much-to-endure, long two hour rehearsal.

I agreed to help out with the stake musical. I didn't want to get completely drawn in so only agreed to help out with the music one night a week. I was told that I would be taking small groups and soloists aside and helping them with their production, sound and overall musical performance. I went last night, stood in the back for about ten minutes while the director talked to everyone about schedules etc. and then heard her say that she hoped Sister Johnson showed up. I shouted out that I was there and she clapped and did a little jump. Confused, but pleased that she has so much confidence in me, I came up to the front awaiting her instruction. But there was none. She just turned it all over to me and left. And there I stood, looking at bored 12-17 year-olds, and a few adults who somehow expected me to teach them their music. Brutal. Guess I need to find out what Bye, Bye Birdie sounds like.

I needed to purge. Hopefully, this will clear my brain and I can start afresh.

Book Review #35 - An Inconvenient Wife

I've been in a reading mood all week. I have this stack from the library because all of my holds came in at the same time and it's just too tempting to pass up. I wish I was in more of a paint/declutter/get-ready-to-put-our-house-on-the-market mood because that looms nearer and nearer but in the meantime....I read.

Kelly A recommended this and I'm always up for a recommendation. The book centers around Lucy, a depressed socialite in the late 1880s. She claims to want to fit into her world of dinner parties, decorating houses and newest gowns but she is so unhappy and has fits of hysteria (mostly withdrawal symptoms due to her complete addiction to opium that was prescribed for her faulty uterus - ah....enlightened science). Her latest doctor realizes that she is not simply bored and unhappy, but that she is a caged bird. He uses hypnosis to uncover her subconscious will and promises as treatment to use suggestion so that she will find joy in the routines of her life. Under hypnosis, however, he discovers that she is severely repressed and uses his influence to "create" a new kind of woman to further his scientific research. When she becomes more opinionated, more ambitious, her husband is infuriated and embarrassed with what his high society wife has become. Of course, the affair between Lucy and her doctor doesn't help him feel any better, either.

I've always had the ability (to a fault) to get drawn into a novel. I feel the book. I felt melancholy when Lucy felt melancholy, agitated, annoyed and repressed when she did too. All this I enjoyed. I didn't enjoy the Chicagoesque ending. I'll stop there so I don't spoil it. A very interesting read. It doesn't seem that long ago but this elite class, the educated and sophisticated, honestly thought that the female brain was less evolved and that men needed to guide and protect females in all things (even picking out jewelry). That kind of talk enrages me but it was an interesting look at the history of depression and the role of woman. She was treated as such an anomaly for being depressed. Funny, but she would have fit right into today's world of women on anti-depressants. I wonder what that says about either of our worlds. Are we more repressed now? Are we caged birds?

Book Review #34 - The Namesake

I read this several years ago but when my sister, Emily, brought it to my attention again and told me they had made a movie I decided to re-read it. The Author, Jhumpa Lahiri, won the Pulitzer Prize for her debut novel, Interpreter of Maladies, which I have not read. But she is clearly a talented author and writes a well-told story.

The story follows a young Indian couple, together through an arranged marriage, settling and starting a family in Boston. They name their firstborn, a son, Gogol, after a Russian author who had great meaning to Gogol's father, Ashoke. When Gogol's character is old enough to have meaningful experience, the author tells the story of the awkwardness and adjustment first generation immigrant families have in the community and within their own family through him. I felt Lahiri's skills were best shown off during these earlier years when the conflict between parents and children was the greatest due to their immediate proximity to each other.

Later on, when both Gogol and his sister, Sonia, were adults, I was a little less sympathetic to each embarrassment, each cultural difference. I felt by that time, Gogol should have been a little more comfortable in his own skin but he never was. As much as this annoyed me, it is probably more realistic than writing him as a perfectly adjusted American who enjoyed, without guilt, all of the sacrifices his parents had made for him.

The one fault I have with Lahiri is her choice of devoting the narrator to Moushumi towards the end of the book for two chapters. I'm sure the author identified with her, and wanted to explain her character, but I thought it betrayed Gogol by letting the reader understand more about her than Gogol did. And her details didn't give us any more insight into Gogol.

I'm looking forward to watching the movie. Since we don't go to theaters, I'm sure I'll be renting it and it'll be awhile before I see it but for those of you who won't read the book, know it comes from a great book.

Here's the trailer

In Sickness and Health

Jay has been having severe acid reflux for months now. I can't even remember when it started but occasionally he has these chest spasms where, I'm not joking, it looks like he's having a heart attack. Freaks me out. It took forever for him to bite the bullet and go see a doctor but two months ago he did see a family doctor who prescribed an acid inhibitor. He took it faithfully for that first month with no improvement. At his follow up appointment, he was referred to a GI doc for an endoscopy. We were both actually hoping for the scope to show something...anything...that could be fixed or treated.

Duing an endoscopy, the patient is given a sedative during the procedure so Jay needed a ride home afterwards. I'm the obvious post-surgery taxi-driver. It all seemed simple enough...drop Jay off so that his truck would be at home rather than stuck at the hospital, pick Jay up when procedure is done. It didn't quite work out that way.

Jay is applying for his Utah medical license which is a feat of endurance. Yesterday morning, Jay said he needed a 2x2 picture of himself to attach to his application. We took the picture and I told him I'd get it printed out and sized. I didn't realize he wanted it that same day. I uploaded it to Costco at lunch time and soon after, he called to say he was coming home to drop off his truck and pick up the picture. I told him that it wasn't done but it would be at 2:30 if he could wait. That was the time he needed to check in at the outpatient surgery center so we hoped against hope that it would be done at 2:00 and drove to Costco. Of course the pictures weren't done so I told him I'd have them when I picked him up at 5:00 and maybe he could get it notarized then if the secretary was still there. I realize this is a lot of extra information...I'll get on with it.

I thought Jay was under sedation. I really did. And that he physically could not call me to tell me to pick him up. It's not like I'm an experienced picker-upper-after-surgery person. So at 4:30, I drove to Costco for the pictures and then drove to the hospital. With traffic it was actually after five when I parked and took ALL three of my kids into the hospital. I left in a hurry to get there by five so I had actually forgotten any sort of Henry support gear. No stroller, no bottle or food, no diaper. I'm such a rookie.

We went to the waiting room and I informed the receptionist I was there for Jay. She sort of looked at all three of my kids with distaste and told me to have a seat. About five minutes later, a nurse in surgical garb told me to follow her. We went past the big, heavy "authorized personnel only" doors to Jay's room.

There he was, with an IV, hooked up with oxygen, electrical leads, blood pressure gear and in a hospital gown (with pants on;). It was extremely disconcerting to see him as a patient. Unfortunately, he was still "pre"scope as the doctor hadn't shown up yet. The nurses explained that if the doctor showed up soon (and he was already an hour late so....they were sure he would) then Jay should be ready to go home in an hour as long as everything went smoothly. I told him I was sorry he was still waiting and then he gave us his ID badge and food pass and I went to feed the boys in the cafeteria.

We took our time and spent more than an hour downstairs. At about six-thirty, we went back to the surgery center where it was completely abandoned. There was no one to check-in with, no help to be found anywhere. I tried the "authorized only" doors which were securely shut. I was sure that Jay was in there just waiting for me so walked around for a while trying to find another way to get back into where he was. Finally, I tried his ID badge which unlocked the doors.

I'm not sure why they designed it this way, but in a hallway by the nurses station is a little play area for kids. Relieved, we plopped down waiting to hear word about Jay. Fifteen minutes later, a nurse comes out to apologize for how long this was taking. She was sure the doctor would show up soon.

What???!!!! I was out of tricks. My bicep was getting tired holding Henry. Good grief people....show some competency! I played defense with Henry for the next hour waiting for Jay to be done and was only mildly concerned when he started throwing Lego's down the hallway. No one seemed to be around, after all.

Finally, Mr. Late Doctor came to talk to me about Jay's condition. He showed me the pictures from his scope and what his plan to treat him was. And I had to listen with my "mom brain" which was also forced to deal with Sam and Seth wrestling over whose turn it was to turn over a fish block on a concentration game and keeping Henry from crawling down the hall (because if I held him, he'd just scream and I couldn't hear anyway). I'm sure he muttered to himself how I should have gotten a sitter and I certainly muttered how he should have shown up two hours earlier.

Because of the late hour, Jay could not recover on that floor. All but Jay's nurse had gone home and there had to be two people around if a patient was on that floor. The doctor, of course, was unable to stay the half hour so they wheeled Jay up to the 8th floor to recover. Jay was so out of it. He kept repeating himself and falling asleep. All of the boys were going bonkers at this point. Henry just wanted to crawl around which I wouldn't let him do on a floor with a bunch of sick, recovering people (gross, gross, double gross) so everyone got to listen to him shriek. No one seemed to be in any hurry to discharge Jay and we spent 45 gruelling minutes in that 8th floor room. Jay needed to prove to the nurse that everything still worked by going to the bathroom so when that was done, the nurse came back in and said that if I wanted to pull my car around, they would wheelchair him out. Faster than the toilet could flush, I was out of there!

The parking gods were kind and I didn't have a ticket on the van even though I had only put a dollar in the little, tiny slot to pay for an hour. I pulled to the front entrance and left the van idling so it would be nice and warm for Jay. Henry was past tired and screamed but at least the only people that had to endure it was me and the boys. Seth and Sam both read a book until I got the bright idea of letting them watch a movie (the DVD player only gets used on road trips...it's one of our rules but desperate times....yada, yada). I contributed to global warming by sitting there with my engine running for another 40 minutes. Jay fell asleep after we left the room and I guess they just let him doze for awhile.

Shortly after nine o'clock we silently drove home. Henry was asleep by this point...the boys watching Star Wars Episode II, when Jay tells me to pull over. He opens the door, steps out (barely) and loses his dinner. I'm feeling compassionate but also notice he's a tad too close to the van to avoid splatter so kindly mention that he might want to face out. A sick patient only hears the negative, though, and he snarked back that he was sorry he wasn't as adept at throwing up as I was. Soooooooo sorry.

Once home, I very quickly threw the boys in bed (no to stories, no to brushing teeth....ok....pray....but make it quick!) and went downstairs to find Jay asleep on the couch.

I can't imagine having a sickly husband. Jay is never sick. Well, never sick enough to have to go to the hospital or even miss work (he only lets himself be sick on Saturdays which is always fun for the whole family). I know I'm not striking a nurturing tone here and mostly focusing on the discomfort his procedure had on me. But this was my experience and it makes me appreciative of his health. He fully recognized how inconvenienced I was and felt bad. I feel worse that he had a giant tube stuck down his throat, lost his lucidity for most of a day, couldn't eat anything all day and then threw up what little he did and has this horrible burning sensation in his chest most of the time causing him pain. I hate it all but if I had to, if this was our life everyday, I would do it. He's worth it.

Book Review #33 - The House of Spirits

I hate that I didn't like this book. It's very well received among literary critics and Isabella Allende is considered a giantess of an author. I want to go to a book reading and eat strange delicacies and say things like, "Fabulous. Revolutionary. Extraordinary." Instead, I'm left reading finishing the book in my bathtub saying, "huh?"

Jay majored in Spanish and had to read lots and lots of Spanish literature. He loves books like Hundred Years of Solitude and Bless Me, Ultima. He has persuaded me to read all of these. He bought me this book for my birthday. I'm going to have to start putting my foot down.

There is a genre of Latin American literature called Magical Realism. This genre weaves a plausible story line, set in real life time and real life places with magic. For instance, the first chapter of this book starts with the narrator describing Rosa the Beautiful who had green hair, yellow eyes and transparent skin. And it's not "hair so yellow it looked green"- it's Green! When Rosa dies, she turns into a mermaid!?! Clara, one of the two main characters in the book is clairvoyant and moves tables, salt shakers, predicts the death of people and the outcome of elections. These things are not real but so many books are written like this and I guess I'm supposed to be wowed by the technique. I'm not quite sure what it's purpose it other than making a really goofy story.

Overall, there is a point. Well...several points. One, the evolution of progress both politically and technologically. The author contrasts the rise of Socialism/Marxism against country's history of feudalism and the upper class's puppeted democracy.

The other is the relationships of the characters. There is a similarity throughout all of the romantic relationships that the author probably did on purpose to make some point that I don't understand. She also explores the relationship between brothers and sisters, tenants and landlords and other random supporting characters. I felt as soon as I connected with any of these characters (which was very, very hard to do) the story shifted or the narrator took a detour (all glowingly noticed as well by critics). Rather than applaud with wonder at Allende's craft, I felt the entire story was manic phase after manic phase. Towards the end, I felt like I had been at a party all night meeting strangers and just wanted to go home.

For those more mature than me and interested in magical realism, this book would be perfect!

Thirteen Hours

That's how long I slept last night. My week and weekend caught up to me and when Jen and Christopher left, I crawled into bed for a "nap" and woke up at 9:30 pm. I came stumbling out of our bedroom and found Jay watching The Amazing Race. He rewinded it for me and watched it again with me. After that, it was back to bed until 6:45 this morning! Funny...but I don't even feel refreshed. I'm hoping that feeling will come soon. With no school, I need to be "on" but I would love a day where I could hibernate in my pajamas and read. In the meantime, until I can find that on switch, I threw on a star wars movie and sat down to get caught up in blogland.

Friday was an incredibly busy day. I had about 10 errands to run and felt like I was just hopping in and out of my van all day. My boys were generally good sports about it but I felt bad that Seth's day off from school was filled with things that are boring for him. We got home and picked up the house for Jen and Christopher's arrival. They showed up at about 5:00 and we ordered Mexican take-out. Christopher watched all seven kids during the concert and we left him 7:15. As soon as we got out of the van to walk to the cathedral, I realized I had a major problem. My new nylons would not stay up. I had thought when I put them on that the elastic in the waist seemed timid and that brief walk demonstrated its complete failure. I held them on with one hand until we were safely inside and then, making sure no one was around to see, hiked those babies up as far as they would go. Blasted walmart brand nylons! Jen left me to go get a seat and I met the rest of the choir in a back room. Every time I stood up, those nylons slipped down and I eventually went into the bathroom and just took them off.

St. John's Cathedral

The inside - great accoustics for the audience.

I was relieved to find out I was not overdressed. My sister, Maureen, is a choir director at a high school in Utah and in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir so has lots of fancy clothes. She sent a couple of concert black numbers back with Jay when we went there to interview two weeks ago. I opted for the black velvet top and skirt complete with Dana's jewelry. The men were in tuxedos and most women were wearing pearls or sparkles so I was happy with my choice.

Concert Black

Someone handed me a program and I was surprised how thick it was. It's the kind of program you get when you go see a musical or opera. I read about all of the soloists and our director, Gunther Schuller.

Gunther and me!

I was even in the program. I didn't know if I would be due to my late entry into the game but my name was at the top of the list of altos!

I'm in print!

The concert was really fun. Singing the music with the orchestra without any stops and all of the solos really brought both the Vivaldi number and the Bach piece come alive. Those men were true geniuses and the complexities of harmonies and counterpoint are phenomenal. There were no glitches, no big mistakes made and the audience seemed to enjoy themselves. I'm so glad I was able to be a part of it but sad that I just discovered this opportunity. It was kind of my break into the music scene here and now we're leaving. Maybe I'll be a little more proactive when it comes to music where ever we end up.

My one fan - thanks Jen!

Jen and I went to pick up Jay after the concert. He had to wait a little while for us but it was so good to see him after a week! He had brought home a box of See's chocolates and wanted to know all about the concert on the way back. I could tell he was tired after his twelve hour days of lectures and cases and lack of sleep from an uncomfortable bed and he crashed as soon as he was home.

Saturday, we all went to Staggering Ox for lunch before Seth had his basketball game. I thought it was really cool that they allowed these pass along cards in their restaurant.

I've always loved the Ox but now I love them even more!

Of course, they were nestled in between a gym membership raffle box and some gossip magazines but they were there!

Seth's game was hilarious. They got "crushed" again (Seth's words). I don't know what kind of basketball mom to be. The "as-long-as-they're-having-fun" mom without a care in the world or the kind that wants more bang for my buck and wished they had a coach that actually taught them how to play. I feel frustrated at his games. Seth is really excited about the game of basketball so having fun isn't a problem. But he doesn't have any direction! I took this video of him and unfortunately didn't turn on the audio but even this silent film shows perfectly Seth's style of play. It's called, "I'm open!"

Seth's open under the basket.

They can hardly contain their excitement.

At least they had a corner to play in

He spends most of his playing time "getting open" but I think only touched the ball once. But he's good on defense. Ah well...he's six, right? I picked up the mail when we got home and got a nice package from Bridget which I opened with an appropriate amount of guilt.

Thanks Bridget!

Not pictured are the yummy Hershey's truffle kisses which were quickly devoured:) Very, very sweet and thank you.

Jen and I went shopping at a warehouse store that sells mostly Costco returns and found a few things including the new Diana Krall CD!

You just don't know what treasures you'll find.

We got home and the sun was shining so we crossed the street and took all of the kids to the park for some needed outdoor play.

Sam and Jonas on some kind of teeter-totter

Gotta love the help from big cousins

Seth and Ansel work on their skills

Henry is delighted in his swing

Owen had a great time on the slides

It's been awhile since he's been outside!

Jen and Christopher went to see Annie the Musical that night and Jay and I had all of the kids. The four big boys slept in the bunk beds together, Henry was downstairs in our room and Owen and Sadie in the guest room. Jay and I caught up on all of our shows for the week (He only had three channels in his hotel room and I was gone every evening) and then talked to Jen and Christopher until after midnight when they got home.

Sunday is always busy with church. Sacrament meeting was a bit boring as they only had a youth speaker and then left 35 minutes for the high council speaker! Yikes! I felt so weary and it was all I could do to not sprawl out on the choir bench and go to sleep. After church, the boys played outside and we talked and fixed supper. The boys are such close cousins and it was fun to watch them play all weekend. They really love each other. Their close relationship will be one of the things I miss the most when we leave here.

We had dinner and then Jen and Christopher headed back home. The rest, for me, is a blur. I dozed in and out of consciousness while Jay did the dishes, did Seth's altered Science Fair experiment (more on that later), and put the kids to bed. I'm looking forward to catching up with everyone else!

The Grinch's Good Mail

I don't know how to write this because I'm going to look bad. In addition, other people might get their feelings hurt. Which is really not my point. Just keep reading. You'll see.

I was introduced to blogging through Jenny. I had never heard of a blog as a means of keeping in touch before May of last year. I had only heard the term "blog" in regard to news, Drudge report, election fodder, etc. When Jenny told me about hers, I read it for two months before I jumped in. At first I felt like a voyeur. I didn't have an account or anything and didn't know how to leave comments so just read without her ever knowing. It also never occurred to me to read any body else's blog.

I started blogging in July and went through that honeymoon phase where you read EVERYBODY'S blog. That was when I first learned about the catch phrase "good mail". I was impressed by everyone's thoughtfulness but also scoffed at the amount of time, expense, effort, and energy that went into all of it. As I wasn't involved in it, it was easy for me to be judgmental reading post after post about people's new treasures. I guess I thought it was a little showy. I can't believe I just wrote that and am sure I'm going to some kind of blog outer darkness for admitting it, but it's true.

If I'm playing the honesty card, I will also admit that the reason for my scorn was probably due to my own weakness and laziness. I'm a lazy friend. I love my friends. I love my family. But I am low maintenance and generally treat my loved ones the same way. It's like the jocks that make fun of the kids in math club. They make fun of them because they know they aren't smart enough to be in it. They might not know that's why they are making fun of them but if they really soul searched...

I knew immediately that this was a group that I couldn't be part of. I'm not cutesy. I'm not crafty. And let's not forget that I'm lazy. But I think I already mentioned that.

I mailed Jenny something this week. Nothing cutesy and certainly not crafty. In fact, nothing is a display of my skills unless you include driving through a drive-thru a skill. And I didn't consider it good mail. It was a good, old-fashioned care package and it took me three weeks to actually mail it. When I mailed it, it felt incredibly good. And the excitement I felt about her getting it felt even better.

Meanwhile, an unexpected package arrived at my doorstep yesterday. I opened it and it was the nicest card from Kelly with a gift card to Red Robin (which is our family's favorite restaurant). She said that she wished she could bring me dinner during my busy week but was using Red Robin as an alternative. And she seemed genuinely proud of me for this choir thing. I was very touched.

From Kelly. A girl after my own heart! I love the Fiesta Pollo Salad!

Today, a package from Dana arrived with an absolutely stunning, black onyx necklace, some lotion, candy and card. Pure kindness. It almost leaves me speechless (but not fingerless - I can still type!).

This picture does not do the necklace justice. It sparkles and is heavy. Quality stuff.

These are two women I barely know. I have no idea what Kelly even looks like. But, as Sally Field so eloquently said years ago, "They like me! They really like me!"

And the Grinch's heart grew three times today.

Thank you. You are beautiful women.