tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-46345293636816463702024-03-14T12:56:21.034-04:00Life 102Little snippets from my not too exciting life...Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-49254992340560491772015-08-27T15:05:00.001-04:002015-08-27T15:05:32.647-04:00Break my heart Last night while reading Frozen (the book version) to Patrick in bed, he asked about Elsa and Anna's parents and what happened to them. I told him they had died and went to heaven. I asked him if that was sad and he said yes. He paused to consider it further and I said, "you would be sad if the moms died, wouldn't you." And he responded, "yeah. And who would take me to school and take care of us?" And I told him he wouldn't be alone and that his auntie Michelle would come and stay with them and his moms would always be in his heart. He seemed pleased with this answer and I continued in the book only to be interrupted by him saying, "if I died, the moms would be so sad and I would be all alone." I was instantly overtaken by tears and emotions and promptly told him, "you would not be alone, God would find you and Uncle Brian and Grandpa Roger and Uncle Mike, you'd never be alone".
<br>My 34 year old brain and heart knows that both those scenarios are plausible, I pray and hope and pray that they never come true, but I was overcome with emotion for a few minutes (and again now as I type this) as I considered briefly these losses. Patrick seemed content and let it go, for which I'm glad. I continue to think of it throughout my day today. These conversations are hard, is it ok to discuss this stuff with a 4 year old? Does he understand it enough? Am I scarring or scaring him? I hope I'm doing the right thing.
<br> I am continuously amazed that Patrick's mind, thoughts and heart. I pray I get to witness him grow into a lovely man.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-11206432832419431692015-01-07T22:00:00.001-05:002015-01-07T22:00:35.616-05:00MortalityIt's that time of year again, the first three months are usually the harder of the 12 for me. I'll simply say my brother died January 10th, 1994, my dad March 9, 1996. I remember them this time of year more than any other time. I know I've written of them and won't go into the details or my emotions again. The emotions that are muted now, less real and even forgotten at times. But I always remember, I always think of Brian and my dad. They are here in my heart and my mind, no matter the time that passes. <br />
But more recently, I've been bogged down by thoughts of my own mortality. My father was almost 44 years old when he died. That's not that far off for me now. I imagine my 43rd year of life will be a hard one. I worry about dying. Leaving these kids and Joc behind with only the memories of me to sustain them. In my line of work, I've seen tragedy and those stories that make you thankful for the days you have on this earth but selfishly, I pray to God I will get more than 15 years with my kids, I pray I'll get to see them grow up and become the persons of quality I know they are capable of becoming. Please. Let me live a longer life than my father before me. Please. <br />
Think of Brian and Roger Gable in these months, think of their souls and pray they are with God and at peace. Pray they can see what we've become and that we miss them. Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-48820079440046262722014-12-17T13:13:00.002-05:002014-12-17T13:13:55.070-05:00ObsessedNetflix, damn you! You are the bane of my vacation, the time sucker of my life! Ugh. I knew it was a bad idea to enter into this one month "free" trial. Grrr. <br />
It all started when I scrolled through the "Shows you might like" part and watched the 1st episode to a show and then I was like, "sure, why not another" and before I knew it, I was hooked! The instant gratification of Netflix and 3 full seasons of a show with 23 episodes each at 45 minutes in length.. you do the math. This need to watch drove me crazy but I knew I just needed to push through and finish it. Then I realized, the show isn't even over. There's a 4th season on TV now, oh blessed be! Can I get no reprieve? Now I have to pretend to wait patiently for this show to play on live TV (of all things!!) instead of being able to click and watch instantly. It reminds me of Harry Potter and when I started reading that obsessively up to book 5, then I had to wait with the rest of the world for each subsequent book to be published. It's just rude, that's what that is.<br />
The only positives coming from this craziness are the songs I'm hearing, I've found about 10 new artists that I don't think I would have found if I hadn't heard them in this show. <br />
What show you are asking, it's borderline embarrassing really, it's what my mother would call juvenile and the acting is generally mediocre at best. It's a RomCom and I'm a bit of a sucker for a good love triangle... Hart of Dixie. There I'm out, I've come clean! Now you know, I'm obsessed with this show, it's kooky characters and knowing how it will all end. Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-80580324544672767472014-07-25T22:33:00.001-04:002014-07-25T22:33:45.286-04:00A new eraMaybe era is the wrong word but whatever, it gets my point across. I have taken a leap of faith, an unsure and mostly unsteady step into an unknown world this week. I have accepted a new job, a tenure track faculty job at the community college here in Grand Rapids. I start August 19th. I am excited, scared, nauseous, anxious and unsure. I am ready for something new, heck I've been talking about a new job for years now so it's really about time I got serious. I'm sad to leave my comfortable world that I've known for over a decade. I'm scared to know basically no one and start at zero, novice teacher. But I'm ready.
<br>If you ever want to feel better about yourself, announce you are leaving. The kindness people have been showing me is humbling. Their words make me cry, realizing what I already know, people really like me! It's silly really, and makes the change that much harder.
<br>I cannot thank my coworkers and family enough for everything they've offered me over the years. You've made me a better person, a better nurse and a better teacher. I will miss it all.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-8877901698890049192014-02-14T13:59:00.001-05:002014-02-14T13:59:23.658-05:00My dadI look at Ceci and see my dad, a lot. She has the round face, the features that remind me of the man that used to be alive. Her hair even has a big of a red hue that I recall my dad having. <br />
It's that time of year, the time that brings me down. Is it the weather? The perpetual grayness? Is it the knowledge that we lost Brian in January and Dad in March? Does that make my start of every year a little more grey and sad? Is it my crazy life? The wishes I have daily to be with my family more, instead I work because there are bills to pay and let's be honest, I would make a horrible stay at home mom. Is it my discontent in my career? <br />
My dad.<br />
I miss him. I wish he'd gotten to meet these little people in our lives. I wish I'd gotten to see him as a grandpa. I wish I could hear him laugh one more time. Wishes are wasted time though. Instead I share Grandpa Roger with them. It's simple and it's hard to remember it all, but it's all I can do to keep him alive to me. <br />
I did some counting. Brian died in 1994. My dad in 1996. That is a long time ago. Where would we be? If they had lived? Who would we be? Do you ever think about what might have become of you if you chose another route? Had you gone to a different school, if you'd missed one train or one airplane? If someone didn't die or didn't leave your life? Do you ever think about that? <br />
<br />
A lot of open ended thoughts here... Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-30688581079688645642014-01-02T02:25:00.001-05:002014-01-02T02:25:56.792-05:00Crying it out... StillHow many nights will I listen to my baby cry? It should be working better than this. We've been using the cry it out on Ceci since October and as I type this, at 2 am, I'm listening to her fussing and crying, sometimes screaming. Ugh. How long will it take? And it's not once a night, nope. This week, it's been about every 3-4 hours. I don't get it. I just want her to get it. Please. Listening to your child cry every night is so hard.
<br>And she's done it, she's asleep again. That only took 30 minutes of crying, one dose of Tylenol and me getting up twice. See you in 3 hours to do it all again.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-29393217657294636032013-08-19T09:59:00.000-04:002013-08-19T10:00:03.706-04:00Long nightsSince I've already posted on Tired, I feel like another would e overkill but that's my life right now. Our sweet Cecilia is a sucky sleeper. This I've always known but we get glimpses of relief to be followed by hellish nights that leave me close to tears or waking with a kinked neck from sleeping in the rocker.
<br>There seems to be no end in sight and the solution I fear is a total hell of crying it out, alone. Which we did for Patrick and he did fine. Ceci has been a much more challenging child in that aspect. My fear with a total cry it out is the inconsolable big tears, the red face and the sweaty mess that takes the place of my baby. And to let her cry it out every hour and a half? That will be the hardest. Because that's how often she is up sometimes, longest she's given me is 4 hours and that's only 1 chunk of the night not consecutively in a night. I'm tired. I'm hormonal, exacerbated by lack of sleep, I'm sad for my girl and I'm tired. (Did I say that already?)
<br>I hate to complain, and try to limit it as it's met with so much advice... But I'm getting desperate. We're trying probiotic drops daily now because it was "night and day" difference for a coworkers kid. I'm ticking down the list of what works for others praying it works for us. I'm getting desperate, reading online blogs and considering paying someone to give us a customized sleep plan. Do we need that? I sleep trained one baby... Why not this one too?
<br>I know we'll all be even better people at the end of this tunnel, but I don't see any light on... Not even a glimpse of one. I mean, I'll settle for 4-6 hour blocks of sleep, we don't have to get crazy and get 12 hours... Just a little REM sleep will do this momma some good.
<br>Say a prayer for better sleep for both Ceci and I... And if you don't pray then ill accept positive vibs and anything else you can throw at me.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-89685324997511527052013-08-05T22:58:00.000-04:002013-08-05T22:59:08.159-04:00A sad dayDeath has reared her ugly head amongst my family again. Somehow a tragic loss is so much harder to swallow than one you can plan and count on. My uncle Mike died suddenly, unexpectedly on Sunday morning. He was 49. It seems he had a large heart attack, the LAD, the widow maker as we medical folk call it.
<br>He was a good uncle, a good man. I have so many happy memories of mike, at his house, at Mo's, in Cadillac, he even came to our wedding in Toronto. The man helped move Michelle to Columbus, he drove down and then back to GR in one day.
<br>I just can't believe he's gone. It's unbelievable. It's tragic. It's sad. It's heartbreaking and it's a cruel joke.
<br>I enjoyed a very pleasant run this evening with my memories running clear of so much time spent with uncle Mike. I will miss him, and pray that God is as good and wonderful as I imagine and that He is with Mike, drinking a beer and shooting the shit.
<br>May perpetual light shine upon you, Mike, and may you rest in peace. You are loved and missed.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-90405289158995866782013-08-01T10:03:00.001-04:002013-08-01T10:03:29.642-04:00Dear MilkDear Milk,
<br>I miss you. I miss everything about you. Do you realize they put you in so much stuff? Bread, chips, cake, brownies, ice cream, macaroni and cheese, cheese, pizza... Everything I love has you in it. So I'm dealing with this in my own way. I'm drooling at people as they eat things I can't have right now. I stare lustfully at ice cream and donuts. I dream of M&MS and candy bars. I bargain with you in my head, though I know we can't be together right now.
<br>The substitute you isn't great, it's actually quite dull and lackluster, sometimes downright disgusting. I have almond milk and soy milk in the fridge next to the real you and it's a sad sight. I count the days until we can be together again.
<br>I want my Ceci to not be intolerant of you, I pray that it's not the case and I'm not looking at 6 months of life without you. But if that is the case, I'm in this. I'll be successful, don't you worry. But I will long for you until March 26th when we will most definitely meet again.
<br>Until next time, stay delicious.
<br>Love,
<br>JennLife 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-3573911263845638732013-06-10T22:32:00.001-04:002013-06-10T22:32:26.241-04:00TiredI'm at a loss for this tired feeling. Was I this tired with Patrick? Was I exhausted? Was work this hard to return to? Cecilia isn't the best sleeper, I'm racking my brain to recall if Patrick had this much trouble at this age... I just can't remember. Last night she was back to her up every 2-3 hours gig... gassy, fussy and fighting to get out of her swaddle. Joc and I switched back and forth so that was helpful but man... waking up that often is hard. If you haven't experienced this, you should count yourself lucky. (And you are most likely child free since all infants wake up this frequently to eat... and if yours doesn't I really really don't want to hear about it.) During maternity leave I didn't really have to function but now that I'm back to work I have to be able to form thoughts and emails and rational thought... being awake that much feels like I worked the night shift...<br />
Please don't tell me it'll get better (I do know it will), that's not what I want with this post. Please don't tell me all babies go through this or to cherish the hours I spend rocking and nursing the little lady all night. I'm not looking for positive thoughts or well wishes... of course it won't last forever. It's just hard in the moment. I just need to work out my thoughts of why... and why do I need to know? why can't C tell me what is wrong? why won't she fall asleep and stay asleep when she's laid down in her crib, especially at daycare? Why doesn't it matter how long I rock her as she's sleeping, she wakes herself up after I lay her down? <br />
BA!<br />
It adds to my worry too. <br />
Cecilia hasn't been a good daycare napper either... but then again, those are the nights C will sleep for 6-7 hours straight. So, do I keep her awake all day in order to have 7 solid hours of sleep? I can't do it friends, babies need sleep, right? Right? Right... right... I'm just not sure.<br />
My poor little gal. I just want her to sleep better, that's all I'm asking. Send positive thoughts or prayers or chants or cheers (I'll take anything!) that Ceci starts putting her sleep cycles together, that she starts self soothing and that she gets rest.... and so do the moms. Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-71409137482884490892013-05-13T14:35:00.003-04:002013-05-13T14:35:55.968-04:00Everything changes...These days, life has become a bit of a foreign world to me. Having children changes everything... did you know that? Most of you do, as you have children. <br />
I had an old friend drop by this weekend, she's an accountant and has multiple homes, toys and a busy work life. She's known me, well we've known each other, since high school. As I played outside with Patrick and chased balls around the yard, she participated in what I would call a very interrupted conversation. I remember having these types of conversations with my friends before I had children. I remember being a little frustrated when what was being said was interrupted by a child, then lost because that interruption took a few minutes to resolve by which time the topic was gone. During my time with my friend, she said a few times, "so this is your life now?" and we laughed and I said, "yeah, having kids changes everything". It wasn't until later that I reflected more on the meaning in that short sentence. It really does change everything.<br />
Oddly enough the next day I had a second reminder, a work friend text me on Sunday saying a group of nurses were meeting up at a local brewery with their SOs (significant others), if we wanted to come down. Another reminder that life is different. Three years ago, not a problem. 6pm? We'll be there. Now, here are the thoughts that rolled through my head: -excellent, I've been meaning to go to the brewery again, -crap, 6pm is a hard time... Patrick needs to eat, bath and bedtime is shortly after that, -can I find someone with 2 hours notice to come over and watch these kids? -do I even have any milk for Cecilia? She hasn't been taking the bottle well... can I feed her before we go down? hmmm... -I could go alone... but then Joc has 2 kids to get ready for bed, dinner and Cecilia cries a lot in the evenings right now. -but man would it be nice to have some adult conversation with some adults other than Joc and i..... hmmm. Guess I better pass.<br />
I guess I'm grieving the loss of freedom, again. I grieved it once with Patrick, thought I was done. <br />
Gone are the days of "let's go out to eat tonight" replaced by, "do we want to try to go out? Who has macaroni and cheese on the menu? Did Patrick nap today? How crazy are we? Let's just stay in, I'm not in the mood." <br />
Gone are the days of, "let's run to the mall and to Target" replaced by, "should we go to Meijer Gardens or the zoo or to the park?"<br />
Gone are the days of, "I'm gonna go to the movies on a random monday afternoon" replaced by playing with Patrick, feeding Cecilia or making dinner or going grocery shopping. <br />
Now, don't get my wrong, I love these kids, I love my life with them and with Joc. I just don't like the hard times (who does?) when Patrick is a terrible 2 year old and looks right at me as I say, "please do not throw your book at your sister" and throws it any way. I don't love being reminded of what we gave up when we had kids. (freedom at all times and autonomy) I remember feeling that my friends had changed and "I would never change". Have I changed? Have I become someone who can't have a decent conversation around my kid because he can't understand yet that it's rude to interrupt all the time? Have I become distracted from my life? Have I become a bad friend?<br />
<br />
On the flip side, what I do have is someone I'm shaping into what I hope to be a handsome, caring, compassionate, hilariously funny and smart young man. And now a beautiful, sweet, kind, silly and intelligent young lady. I do have the sweetest hugs and kisses at the most random of times, the best kicker and thrower on the block and the hungriest and neediest infant. I have "I do it" and "noooooo!!" and "sista!" and "no cooper!" and "mama?" and "outside" and "i love you". So really, would I change a thing? Not for a heartbeat. In fact, I'd add another crazy kid to this mix if given the chance. Sure, I miss and long (some days) for those free and independent days, but to have these amazing little people is too much to give up. To see them grow and change before my very eyes... it's miraculous. Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-76729081422544087702013-04-08T14:40:00.001-04:002013-04-08T14:40:31.249-04:00HormonesThe last couple days I feel a bit more on the verge of emotion... it's hard to explain the feeling of irrational emotions. I wax from anger and frustration to irritation to happiness to sadness and even fear. It's really quite annoying for me, but knowing it will improve is usually what helps settle my mind. <br />
Some of my recent examples:<br />
I went shopping at a local shop for new nursing bras, I've been wearing my old ones from nrusing Patrick and they desperately needed replacemnt. The shop I purchased them last time no longer sells bras so I went to a differnt, recommended shop. The women were just trying to hlep me but when the gal asked me my size before having Cecilia and then recommended a size medium, I laughed out loud. Please. I've never been a medium in my life, I told her. Then I said, my cup size is no longer a C. My milk is in, I'm engorged. Can you measure me? Sure, we can measure you but why don't you go try a medium on and we'll go from there. Here's when my boiling point was reached. I'm wearing this exact bra and it's an XL and the cups are barely holding me right now. The same bra? Yes. I'll take your medium but I'll also take the XL so I don't have to make two trips. I was so irritated. Ended up buying the XL bras.. and they never measured me. A second lady even told me (after I asked her to measure me) that "we've been doing this a long time, I can tell you are maybe a D". I tried an E cup on (equivalent to DDD) and filled that out just fine. I left happy I'd gotten new bras but irritated in general. I asked Joc if she could tell I was pissed, she said yes in that "I was afraid you were going to bit the woman's head off if she told you you were a medium again" kind of way. No one lost their head that day, thank goodness. <br />
<br />
We've been taking Patrick to daycare since we're still paying the weekly cost to hold his spot, he loves his friends and teachers at daycare, and it's good to keep his routine that he knows. I've struggled with this mentally as I wish he could be home with us and Cecilia but I also know that we'd be even more exhausted if he were here to take care of. Not to mention, Cecilia can't even appreciate him yet, so it really is better if he's at daycare getting that stimuation and not throwing tantrums at home. I have been feeling a lot of guilt over this but he doesn't go in unitl about 9 (7:30 was his old time for drop off when we were working) and we pick him up by 4. With the weather getting nicer (hopefully) we will have more outdoor time with him. He's going to be fine, and probalby won't remember this at all. <br />
<br />
There have been a few recent stories posted on facebook about kids who have died. These are really hard on me. Maybe because my brother died young or my dad or because of my hormones but I look at these two beautiful babies given to us and I think about them dying. It scares me to think of that loss. I pray that God wouldn't do that to us, that I've expereinced enough loss in my life that He wouldn't do it but I also know Brian died when he was 15 and my dad two years later... it's possible God would do it. I rationalize with myself and I truly cherish every moment we have with them. I pray we're some of the lucky ones who see their children grow up and succeed and have families and carreers of their own. I don't dwell on it, I think I'm just a little more acutely aware of the possibility of tragedy and loss you could say and I'm realistic that life isn't fair and bad things happen to good people... <br />
<br />
Just gonna have to wait out these hormones as they stabilize and my emotions do as well. For now, forgive me if I'm irrational to you, I don't mean it....Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-81130649610366772582013-03-12T21:54:00.001-04:002013-03-12T21:54:26.617-04:00Just a reminder...So, I'm nearing the final weeks of this second pregnancy and am frequently reminded by every single person in the world around me what my freakin' due date is. It never fails, after telling one person the next walks up, places a hand on my basketball of a stomach and says it... "when are you due?" And now I hate them. Really. <br />
I'm reminded of the post I wrote on the 31st of May, 2011. I was almost a week overdue with Patrick and fed up with people's well meaning questions. Tonight, I read my top things to never say to a 37+ pregnant woman and Joc and I had a good laugh at them. I feel the need to share, so here they are:<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">Here's my list of Things to not say to a 37+ week pregnant woman: (and my responses or internal thoughts to their comments)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">1. still no baby? (yup, I had it just didn't tell anyone)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">2. you must be miserable (well, I'm not horribly miserable but I'm done with this abdomen and not seeing anything below my gut)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">3. still here? (yes, yes I am. Can you stop asking me this now? If you see me, you can pretty much assume that 1. i'm still pregnant 2. i haven't had the baby and 3. i'm not in the mood to answer your well-meaning questions.)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">4. you haven't dropped, with your first, you have a good 2 weeks after you've dropped. (This said to me on my due date... I was so ready to jump across the table at the woman. hormones, right?)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">5. are your feet swollen? (no, they usually look like this)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">6. aren't you cute? (i'm not a cute person, never have been, never will be. It's life, and I'm 30 years old so I think I'd know if I were cute. It's the same way I feel when people call old people "cute". I do not wish to be called cute as an adult nor as an old woman with wrinkles and a sense of humor.)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">7. when's your due date? (fill in my date here) So are you having a C-section? (not that I'm planning on). So how do you know that's the date? (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME???!!!)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">8. you should eat something spicy, i ate some jalepeno's with my first and went into labor right after that. (Right, I'll take that into consideration... the heartburn is not worth it!)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">9. Sex, you should have sex. (right, because sperm is what is the most helpful part of sex and since we paid some decent dollar amounts for the sperm that met my egg in my fallopian tube, I'm just gonna wait it out here... and no, I'm not taking volunteers for sperm donation!!)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">10. Do you want to know what made me go into labor? (no, I don't because I'm a nurse and I read research crap and I know that there is absolutely no scientific evidence to support any of those old wives tales about what causes people to go into labor. What I need is prostaglandin and uterine contractions... which the baby has to secrete in order to start dilating this damn cervix.)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">11. Do you know what you're having? (nope) You don't want to know? (Well, yeah we do but we also wanted to keep it a surprise) So are you gonna find out? (hopefully in the next few FUCKING weeks you idiot!)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">12. You should go for a long walk. (yup, been walking this whole pregnancy..)</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;">13. When's your due date? (may 26th) I sit back and watch as pure confusion crosses this person's face. So, what does that make you? (stupid for standing here, talking to you still) (this one also drives me mad when people I work with or people I speak to frequently, have asked me this multiple</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"> times through the pregnancy. I know it's not their job to remember nor do they really care what the date is... then stop asking me. AND when I tell them, end of May, then they say, well what day? I've taken to saying, you won't remember anyway so I'm not telling you again. It's mean, I know... but what can I say?!)</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px;"><br /></span>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I can say I feel the same way now... I might add another that I've heard a lot in the past 2 days: "you've dropped" (no, I haven't) "yes, you have. You definitely have dropped." (Nope, stomach is still in the same place, my boobs are still resting on my stomach, I'm still short of breath and I can tell I haven't dropped.) "no, you have, I can see it." (Seriously? Keep pushing it and I'm gonna drop my fist into your face...).</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Good times.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"><br /></span></span>Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-20569145814255355582012-09-10T22:10:00.001-04:002012-09-10T22:10:54.564-04:00So long...This morning I received a message from my mom. My Grandpa Owens died in his sleep early Monday morning. <br />
My grandpa has been dying all summer, it started with a GI bleed (gastrointestinal) that put him in the hospital and headed in a slow decline to Hospice and a bed in the living room, oxygen, a walker and a shell of a really great guy. He was 91 years old, he lived a good life (from my perspective). <br />
I had the opportunity to go see him and my grandma on Saturday. I remember thinking on my way over that I wasn't sure I wanted to see him but I did. And I understood my reservations when I saw him. It wasn't my grandpa anymore though, he was gone already really. The man I hugged and said, "see you" to wasn't the grandpa who told funny "look at my thumb, gee you're dumb" jokes or had a temper that could scare you stiff (we don't call it "pulling a George Owens" for nothing) or the guy who talked about selling my dog to the Chinese restaurant or who always asked about my job and my career. He wasn't the guy who loved me, treated Joc with kindness and respect (regardless of what he believed) and asked about Patrick. That man, my grandpa, hasn't been around since the spring. And I feel okay with how I left him both Saturday and the last time I saw him. <br />
He was at home. My mom was there. His children had all been home and seen him in the last month. He was as ready as he could be. <br />
So long grandpa, thank you for everything you've given me in this life. May you rest in peace always. <br />
<br />Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-51273548890743347412012-08-04T00:17:00.001-04:002012-08-04T00:17:44.204-04:00In limboI'm sitting in the airport in Chicago, waiting on my connecting flight home to grand rapids. It's been a long day of travel home from Nashville, where I was doing a two day training for work. It was good training but the trip was quick and I miss my family.
<br>At the Nashville airport I was sitting there with my coworker I traveled with and news was on. As the reporter went into this Chic-fil-a (or however you spell that) drama and I watched almost all the people around me gazing up and listening as various people say why or why not they are spending their money at this establishment.
<br>I'm just reminded again of the sadness that my sexuality gets to be so openly discussed and judged by strangers. I felt nervous, as my coworker knows I am gay with a wife and son, and I hate when I'm put in that sort of position. I felt irritated that the news was even reporting on it. And I searched stranger's faces for the judgement I fear they hold without even knowing me.
<br> Why is it okay for people to declare that gay people, or as they love to refer to us, "homosexuals", are aberrant, immoral, among other hurtful words. We are people. Each and every one of us. People with families that love us, or sadly in many cases, hate us. We are not a biblical verse or a despicable human beings. We're walking in front of you and beside you. I'm sitting right next to you, I'm on my phone calling my wife too. I don't feel the need to declare how I disagree with your lifestyle to anyone who will listen. I don't feel the need to post hateful comments on a public forum about your love, that maybe I don't understand but I don't have to because I'm not in the relationship.
<br>I digress. I'm tired.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-63499265255371445482012-07-02T20:25:00.001-04:002012-07-02T20:25:22.334-04:00An update on lifeSummer is definitely here around these parts. It's been hot! Patrick has a little plastic pool that we pull out most weekends we are at home and after a few hours in the sun, it's warm. On his own time, he likes to crawl in and out of the pool and then over to the sandbox we made for him and gets all sandy. He prefers to toss the sand out of the sandbox and move the toys around... he hasn't quite realized he should be scoping and buiding with the sand. Ah well, that will come. <br />
Patrick continues to get more and more personable. He understands when things are said to him, little things. Like, "where's cooper?" he looks around or goes crawling off laughing to find and womp cooper. Poor dog looks at us daily with the face, "when is this kid leaving? Cuz he keeps pulling my fur, wacking me on the back and touching my feet!" But she is a good dog and puts up with mischief. If she's not in the mood, she takes herself out of the situation. Many evenings, I'll go upstairs after Patch has gone to bed and there's Cooper, laying on his bedroom floor. She loves him, I know it.<br />
We are finishing half our basement this summer with the help of Joc's dad, Mike. He's a contractor and has all these tools and machines and the experience to help us with less cost than hiring someone. Because of that, it will take a couple months to be finished but it's farther than it was last year when it was only a dream. We are planning an additional bedroom with a double bed, and a family room/TV room area. That will free up our current study for when/if we have more kids and need the rooms upstairs (we'd move our room to the study). We've picked most of the materials out and Mike will be here in a couple weekends to put in some egress windows. It's exciting!<br />
As usual, I'm unhappy in my job. It waxes and wanes but lately I've been irritable and tired. I just feel tired. It's a thankless job really, middle management. I'm in flux though. Simulation is my favorite part of the job, but it's not as important to the people in the higher ivory towers as I think it is. Being a simulation coordinator is a full time job in itself and I've been doing it with my other duties. I'm exhausted, mentally. I'm hoping the next week off will help clear my head. I have something on the horizon. I'm not sure what to make of it. For now, I need to apply for it and see what happens. I have a lot of guilt. There is a lot I would leave behind, I'd leave my coworkers in a lurch and there's a lot of time I've invested. But how do you say, "no, I can't do this because I'm considering leaving my position and I don't want to leave you hanging when I'm gone." Ba. It's hard. It's all very hard to swallow. <br />
<br />Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-5960794399951110242012-06-01T13:30:00.000-04:002012-06-01T13:30:17.152-04:00Taking ChanceSpent about an hour and a half this morning, while Patrick napped, to watch a movie on HBO called Taking Chance. One word: amazing, another: heart wrenching. It's a simple story of a soldier who died in 2004 in Iraq and the journey his body takes on his way home to Wyoming. It's told from the perspective of the marine who escorts the body. Oh man. It was excellent. I think we so easily take for granted, me included, those who fight and die for us. This made me stop and put a story to a name. He was 19. Highly recommend, and bring tissues.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-8329349936896078172012-05-18T12:56:00.000-04:002012-05-18T12:57:15.618-04:00A letter to my fatherDear Dad,
<br>You've been dead for many years. Do you know? What's it like in heaven, away from all those you loved? What's it like to be ripped out of your life and asked to go to heaven? Were you scared when you laid down on the floor in the kitchen, did you know you were breathing your last breaths?
<br>I miss you, it feels like more now than ever before. I think it's Patrick, he's here and he's so special to me and I reflect on you and us kids. I think how much love you must have had in your heart for all of us. I know now how much a heart can be filled with love for a child, my flesh and blood. I wonder what it would be like to lose Patrick as you lost your son.
<br>I've seen you in Patrick lately, he has your round face, the eyes and maybe some red in his hair. I think of you almost every time I look at him, I think of how you would have enjoyed your grand kids. Grandpa Roger.
<br>I wish I could talk to you once more, tell you all this and more. I wish you could see us all grown and living. Alive, all of us so alive.
<br>It's been almost 16 years since you died. That feels like a lifetime. My throat still closes and tears stream down my cheeks when I recall memories. Some have faded. But I want you to know you are not forgotten and you are still loved by your girls.
<br>I'll see you in heaven, someday. You're waiting, I know. It may be a long wait, I'm hoping you don't have a good sense of time there. Maybe you can check in with us occasionally and see what we're doing. Who knows, who really knows what is the afterlife.
<br>These all feel like juvenile requests, things I longed for when you first died. Feelings that repeat for every major and minor life event. The grief is changed now, it's not raw, I don't look for you to walk into a room, don't visit the bakery and hope you're by the oven checking the bread. I know you're gone, that is very clear. I just wish I could know if you're around still.
<br>I tell Patrick who you are, tell him stories of growing up making donuts and working in the bakery. I will tell him who you were and what you meant to me, that is a promise.
<br>Love, your daughter.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-4103173338077261302012-05-10T22:37:00.003-04:002012-05-10T22:37:55.449-04:00Gay MarriageI have to get this off my chest. No apologies. I know who loves and supports us. <br />
<br />
I'm pretty irritated.... angry.... upset.... misrepresented.... I'm not sure the exact word I want to use here. Last night joc and I watched the local news on President Obama's coming out for gay marriage. I shut off the TV in frustration when it was over. What gives all these people, these idiots, these ignorant ass holes, the right to give their opinion on my relationship? Do I walk into their living rooms and talk about how I don't think ugly people should be able to get married? Do I comment on their relationships? I mean really, what gives anyone the right? <br />
I think I'm pissed. That's really what I am. I'm sick of people's opinion related to my relationship. The only people who should share their opinion on my relationship are me and Jocelyn. That's it. No debate. No discussion. Us. Not you, definitely not a mid-aged politician who is out of touch with the younger generation. <br />
I just can't see why this is tolerated by so many. <br />
And this politician who says that the state of Michigan "spoke loud and clear in 2004" on the issue of marriage. Firstly, 2004, are you f-ing kidding me?! Does he realize it's 2012 now? Secondly, how about the fact that the ballot was, I believe (and I'm only working from memory here), something like 48% for gay marriage and 52% against... that's hardly "loud and clear" to me.... that sounds pretty closely divided.... and again, it's 2012 now, how about we put it back on the ballot and see how it does? And thirdly, the country is pretty much evenly split on this stupid issue. 50 50, I just read this in the GRPress.... No one is speaking "loud and clear".<br />
Finally. I have been married to my wife since 2007. That's right, we have a license. Some of you were there. What, pray tell, has my marriage done to you in these 5 years? Have you been unable to sleep at night? Or been unable to file your taxes jointly? Or maybe you haven't been able to live your damn life... I'm so sorry.<br />
Whether these idiots ever evolve is up to them. I think growing and changing based on your surroundings is part of adulthood. Actually, it might be more of a childhood thing. There is no excuse for ignorance, nor for hate. <br />
<br />
I hope this entry helps me let this anger go. I pray that I can find hope in this situation. I do pray that this isn't an issue someday, that Patrick won't have to even think about why some people feel the need to share their opinion about his mom's relationship. I'm not sure what will happen. <br />
<br />
Open your minds. See beyond your fear of this thing you find so foreign but feels so normal to us... Look outside your comfort and open your heart....<br />
<br />
That's all I have.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-32615565827869009382012-04-21T09:15:00.000-04:002012-04-21T09:15:21.755-04:00How does she do it?I'm having some difficulties and wondering if the moms out there can offer me some words of wisdom. <br />
<br />
Patrick is 10 1/2 months old, eating full on table food for the past month or so. With this comes difficulties. Number one being the time he's hungry in the evening. I generally get him home from daycare by 5:00 but he's hungry by 5:15 or 5:30. I rarely am able to get a good dinner cooked in that time, so he eats leftovers or I've been cooking sweet potatoes for him. Then while he eats, I cook or at least start the meal that Joc and I will eat. Then when he's done he's ready for his bedtime routine (seriously). Joc gets home between 5:45 and 6:30. Patrick's in bed and asleep by 7 every night. Then Joc and I sit down to eat, or if I did manage to get a meal cooked and ate with Patrick, Joc eats alone. <br />
I see many issues in my situation: Patrick is getting used to eating by himself, so if I do sit down with him to eat he gets a little fussy that I'm not constantly helping him eat. (this i think I solve by being consistent in eating with him) Thoughts on that? Also. We aren't eating as a family. I'm not sure we can wait for Joc every night because she doesn't get out consistently and Patrick is a mess if we were to wait. <br />
I'm not really interested in pushing bedtime back, he almost always lays down and falls right to sleep. And we get him up by 7am so he needs those 12 hours (plus his naps are not always great at daycare so he's usually very ready for bed). <br />
<br />
He's also become a bit funny with food. He does this thing where he clenches his fists, bears down and moans/grunts and gets all read in the face. I'm not sure what he means by it.... I'm trying to sign language thing but dang it, he's not participating yet and he refuses to tell me what his deal is... (c: He also likes to take a bit, chew for a moment and spit the food out. Yet an hour later he's fussy and wants a snack. He likes fruit and apple sauce... but I need him to like other food! I try to give him fruit for dessert, and only if he's eaten at least half his meal... so he's not just filling up on the sweet stuff. Is this a phase? Do I take him out of the highchair when he's playing and throwing his food to tell him it's not play time when he's in there? Or let him play with the food? Do I try different food in the same meal (if he's not liking what I made for him) to make sure he gets enough to eat? When does the "this is what's for dinner, if you don't eat it then that's your choice" start? I know it's too early now... but he knows what's happening... he knows if he whines and squeals enough he'll get attention... Am I creating a monster???!!! I don't want to get in the habit of cooking one meal for me and Joc and something different for the boy. <br />
<br />
Also, how often should I be giving him snacks? I'm trying to start weaning him from the boob... so I'm trying some snacks between meals, replacing the boob... but sometimes I worry I'm giving him too many snacks and that's why he's not eating well at dinner. <br />
What snacks do you give the kids? (I've got yogury puffs, gerber veggies bit thingies, I cut up cheese, goldfish crackers are a new thing... )<br />
Ba! <br />
<br />
Working 4-5 days a week is challenging with a baby...<br />
<br />
Any advice would be appreciated. <br />
Thanks.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-39234479599332121472012-04-16T22:01:00.000-04:002012-04-16T22:01:58.619-04:00OverI received word today from UDM that I won't be moving forward in the interview process due to the fact that I am not, nor do I have immediate plans to acheive my PhD or DNP in nursing. (Both considered "terminal" degrees in nursing.) I was disappointed, but honestly expecting it. I did interview 2 weeks ago now, did not feel great afterward and was asked twice if I planned on pursuing my doctorate, to which I was very honest (as I was advised to be) about not planning on going down that road in the next 3 years. So. There it is. It's okay though. I'm okay with it.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-39507880656104538902012-04-06T07:02:00.000-04:002012-04-06T07:02:37.729-04:00ProgressUp early on my day off. Patrick has been waking up at 5 or 530 or 6 the last couple weeks and I struggle with my decision to get up and feed him. This morning I couldn't fall back to sleep. Patrick does though as opposed to if I let him cry it out, he'd cry until 7 when he gets up for daycare. So I prefer to let him get another hour of sleep. But I am not doing him any favors. Ba, it's frustrating for me. What will make him go back to sleeping through the night? I just don't know.<br />
<br />
I am in the process of interviewing for the UDM job, it's multiple steps with multiple people. I had a phone interview with a group of Detroit and grand rapids professors, and one interview with the dean of the GR campus but she's in Detroit as well. The search committee is reviewing my stuff and making a decision on my next steps... Then I believe the next step is a 10 minute presentation to the GR professors on campus then a trip to Detroit to interview in person with some people then I meet with the chair of the gr campus about what I would teach. I'm not convinced I'll get the job. I didn't have the greatest interview as they asked me a lot of mission and vision questions that I felt prepared for but as they were coming out of my mouth I felt they were disjointed and not thorough. Ba. I can only hope they consider giving me a shot. I'm still however, torn by my current job and what I would do. The couple profs I've talked to said there is quite a bit of flexibility with a professor but I cannot have 2 full time jobs. And my first year of teaching would be heavy with lecture preparation and test creation. I love love love doing simulation but it's not the main part of my role, even though I wish it were. So even if I went part time I would most likely have to give it up... I might however, try to talk UDM into working simulation into their curriculum and sharing the sim lab. But that might be a long term plan. I also miss my bedside nursing role. Lots of decisions to consider. But ultimately I suppose I need to wait and see if I get this UDM job before planning my next steps. Hoping to be through the process by may...or at least that's what I was told. 9 month contract would start in August...Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-60179174557403908762012-02-23T09:23:00.000-05:002012-02-23T09:23:25.308-05:00A break in my weekHi.<br />
I'm home today from work because Jocelyn is out of town for work and Thursdays are her day with patrick. So, I'm lucky enough to be home with him instead.<br />
Planning to laugh, clap, wave and babble with him all freakin' day. And I'm gonna love it! I find him highly amusing these days. If you hold up a toy and say, "ball" for example, he'll look at you like, "what?" then I keep saying it and eventually he says, "blah" after I say, "ball". Before you get all excited that he's speaking, he says "blah" after I say, "duck" "train" "sock"... you get the picture. But it's fun to hear him trying... His newest accomplishment is waving, it took him weeks of study and observation but finally he raised his meaty little arm last week and waved! The joy!! (c: He's also pushing up to his hands and knees... but only for short bursts... as we aren't keen on him crawling just yet. He already rolls around like a pro, can't imagine when he starts crawling.<br />
p.s. You all know about the Patrick blog, right? That's why I don't update this blog with Patrick details too often. If you want videos/pictures, check it out. (The link is in my list of blogs- Patrick Jude)<br />
<br />
A work update: (You're curious, right?)<br />
Honestly, most days I don't like my job. I like parts of my job but not most of it. I love the people, the place, the idea of my job, but the actual job- not so much. I randomly got an email from an old professor (Sister Linda my UDM friends) with a request for a policy from the hospital. I had recently heard a rumor that the chair of the Grand Rapids UDM program was "asked/told" to step down by the new nursing Dean from the Detroit campus. (ABOUT FREAKIN TIME, right my UDM alumni friends?!). Since I had such a <i>great</i> (read with sarcasm) interview for a job with UDM post graduate school I had vowed to never work for UDM as long as that person was chair. SO! This rumor was really great news for me... anyway. I asked Sister Linda about this rumor and she responded right back with- "Yes, she is stepping down from chair. You should send me your updated CV and coverletter." SWEET!! I then ran into Sister Linda (well she wanted to meet Patrick, so it was sort of planned) at church the next Sunday, where she gave me more good news- another professor was going to another program, closer to her home... opening a med/surg teaching spot. She said, "The Detroit dean is coming to Grand Rapids Wednesday, it'd be good if you sent me your CV prior to that." So, I did. And now, I wait. Sister Linda also said she'd been offered the chair position... what a change from the previous chair...<br />
I'm not sure what I'll do, how I'd do it, what would happen or if I'd leave my job completely. I miss the bedside dearly, and the team I worked with. But I want to get back to the classroom too. I'm hoping and praying something works out for me in the next year. <br />
Fingers crossed.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-18858795643852782132012-01-26T20:11:00.000-05:002012-01-26T20:11:29.390-05:00A voiceMy grandfather died this week, and we attended the funeral today in Muskegon. Not a huge deal to me, unfortunately. I have some guilt about that but the reality is, we did not forge a close bond with my dad's parents after his death. In fact, prior to his death, we really only saw his family once or twice a year. Everyone but us lived and worked in Muskegon while we were up in Cadillac. We owned the bakery and it wasn't easy to just pick up 4 kids and drive to Muskegon for a weekend to visit, so we didn't. We always felt a little out of place, awkward, around the Gable's. Now, it's about 20x as awkward. My grandmother died in May, now my grandfather. My aunts and uncles are technically orphaned. A generation is gone. It just seems odd to think of it that way. <br />
My grandfather was way into techy crap, he always had a bunch of gadgets, TVs, the newest technology. If he weren't so sick, I know he'd have a 3D TV just because they are the newest thing. He took lots and lots of videos when we were kids. My aunt mentioned to us girls, that she had all of grandpa's videos and some include Brian and my dad. She said they'd make us a copy so we could have it. So, I got to thinking, these videos will have my dad and brother talking... I haven't heard my dad or brother speak for 16 and 18 years. I don't remember what their voices even sound like. I'm anxious to listen, to see them forever alive in a video from years ago. I want to call my aunt and say, "get me those tapes damn it!" This thought never crossed my mind, that there might be a recording of their voices. <br />
Of my grandparents death I am saddened. They were always loving and caring towards us, opening their doors and welcoming us in. I remember my grandma's wet kisses and hobbled and hunched walk (from arthritis). My grandfather always had 2 or 3 TVs on and music playing in the background. He'd be wearing sweatpants and a wife beater with his leather slippers and his dog at his side. He had a sense of humor, similar to my dad's and his laugh was hearty. They were in their 80s, lived a good and full life. I celebrate their life and hope they rest in peace.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4634529363681646370.post-51576806402490583672012-01-14T08:56:00.000-05:002012-01-14T08:56:22.599-05:00MondayFor those of you who don't know, Sara, my close friend (from childhood, well really 9th grade) has watched Patrick from 2 months of age. She was offered a part time job just after the Christmas holiday and that sent Joc and I on a scramble for childcare for the little man. It was more stressful than I would have thought, it seemed that every place we looked had either just filled their infant spots or had someone deciding for the last spot. We saw our Plan A turn into Plan D, E and F. Finally, we decided on or rather found an opening at a really nice daycare center but it's on the other side of town. Not our first choice, but actually it's the same company as our first choice, just their Kentwood location.<br />
We start Monday... we dropped paperwork off and brought Patrick by on Thursday to look around. He was interested and smiley so both good signs. It's just nerve-racking to think about leaving him in the care of strangers. I mentioned that I worry a bit as he's a typical first born who prefers to be held all the time. I felt some tears in my eyes thinking about leaving him... I know it'll be fine, my job is just to worry these days so that's what I do. <br />
Thank you Sara, for your excellent care of our Patrick. I'm so grateful you were there for him and for us. Thank you.Life 102http://www.blogger.com/profile/15413790789590090213noreply@blogger.com1