Patio Fun in the Sand

First, Dave just started the MBA program at CSU.  Originally, I was very apprehensive of this idea since this would mean a lot more time spent with the kids.  Not that I mind that, but was afraid I’d go a bit stir crazy.   The Grandmas have been helping me out by watching the kids a couple of days a week, which has been a huge help.  This gives me the opportunity to get out and do things.  Since I enjoy reading textbooks for fun, I have been reading all of Dave’s materials along with him.  It is very refreshing to be studying again.  I am trying my darndest to turn Dave into a “good” student by making sure he brings his book to class and encouraging him to read all of his assignments ahead of time (laughs).  The kids miss their Dad a lot when he’s in class, but have been handling it like true sports.  Dave makes it up to them by spending quality time with them on his no-school days.

Marley is really looking forward to beginning school.  Just two weeks from now, we will be wiping away tears as we drop her off for the first time.  She will be attending Pre-K three days a week for 2 1/2 hours a day.  I feel like we have taught her so much already, and look forward to allowing the professionals to continue on that path.  I am wondering how she will do the first week when she realizes we can not go to school with her.  Although it will be tough at first, I know she will eventually get used to it.

As each Father’s Day passes, I stop and reflect on some of the great memories I did have with him.  Some of my fondest memories of Chicago are with him: eating Italian Beef sandwiches while watching the Bears or indulging in Italian ice after a long day at the park.  Although there’s such an ache in my heart for his absence, his memories will always live on.  And even though my children will never meet their grandfathers, they will always know how great they were by the stories we share with them.

The good news is Father’s Day has meaning for us once more.  After all of these years without celebrating, it’s nice to have something to look forward to again.

Kaya and Ziggy

Bittersweet.

This is the word that best describes this weekend.  As Ocean approaches his one-year birthday, he is going through so many changes.  Last week, he started using a cup as mom began weaning him from breast milk.  The changes for Ocean means more freedom for Mom, as I get to drink more than one beer at a time and also got to dye my hair for the first time in two years.  It’s an exciting time for everyone.   Dave and I celebrated our anniversary by running in the Bolder Boulder on Memorial Day, and we enjoyed our first “real” road ride the day before (a 50-miler from Sedalia to Palmer Lake and back).

Unfortunately, with the highs came the lows.  Our black Lab, Kaya, decided to chew up a piece of Dave’s rubber bike mat and got a piece of it lodged in his small intestine. We immediately knew something was wrong when he refused his breakfast on Saturday morning.  Since his vet was closed during Memorial Day weekend, we opted to take him to the Animal ER by our house.  Because he was quite dehydrated, he remained in the hospital for two nights so that they could keep him nourished via IV.  After two sets of x-rays, we confirmed that surgery would be the only option available to us.

It was an agonizing decision.  After paying the high costs of Animal ER, we were now faced with the additional costs of a surgical procedure, plus the uncertainty behind the results of surgery, since there was a chance that they could get in there and discover major damage in the intestines.  Kaya is 12 years old, so fairly old but not so old that we could make an easy decision about his future.

Dave and I stressed over the decision all weekend long.  Do we pay the high medical costs or have him euthanized because we can not afford them?  What does one do?  Kaya is a typical lab, so he eats random things all of the time (socks, books, and now rubber mats apparently).  What if we spend all of this money to only have it happen again, which is a definite possibility.  After visiting Kaya at the ER, and seeing how excited he got when he saw us, we decided to take our chances with the surgery.  How could we walk away from him?  In the end, we decided we couldn’t.

Kaya’s surgery is today, and we hope all will go well.  We brought him to Planned Pethood, as they offer an affordable alternative (only 25-30% of the cost of a specialist).  We have been very fortunate thus far with our dogs’ health, but it prompted us to wonder.  As a pet owner, do you think a maximum amount of money should be set on medical care?

Dave and I went on a lengthy run this weekend, and by the end he was spent … completely exhausted.  Being the brat that I am, I proceeded to make fun of him because I felt fine (jokingly, of course).   But there is one thing I did not think of:  he has allergies and asthma. 

This got me thinking about athletes that compete with asthma and allergies.  It can’t be an easy task to perform athletically when breathing can be a task in and of itself.  I have no idea what it’s like growing up with asthma or allergies and dealing with that day in and day out.  The closest I have come to feeling their pain during exercise was when I was pregnant.  During this time, the workouts that I normally could do without any effort took a lot more energy as my heart rate crept up faster.  It was tough, but I could still not empathize.

In researching this topic, I came across an article discussing asthma and exercise.  It includes a list of professional athletes who have excelled inspite of their asthma (they include an Olympic swimmer who swam with friends of Dave at CSU).

Like elite athletes, I think these athletes ought to be appreciated in the same way, if not more.   I am inspired by the effort they put forth to exercise.  A job very well done, Dave!  I promise to never make fun of you again.

“I will be right back.. and don’t let the pigeon drive the bus!!”  As I read Mo Willem’s tale to Marley,  I began thinking of my excursions on the bus (or the Shame Train, as we called it) when I was young and asked myself, “Would I want my children to ride the bus like I did?”

My very early memories of the bus are wonderful.  My father was a transportation driver and would take the kids with him to work when we were very young – memories of enjoyment and happiness as we rode along with him.  As I entered my teen years, my trips on the bus were entirely different – ones better described as miserable and depressing.  Due to a lack of transportation, I spent most of my teen years either walking or taking the bus to my destinations.  

Now I will admit, I met some interesting people this way.  But I was also cornered by an endless parade of talkative popinjays and harassed by America’s not so rich and famous.  My walkman saved me many of times.  I’d just turn up the music and pretend like I couldn’t hear them.  I remember one particular instance where I was riding the bus and somehow missed my stop (for those of you that are familiar with my sense of direction, this will come as no surprise).  So, I had to stay on the bus until it looped back around to re-visit my stop.  There I was, just hanging out with the bus driver as all of the people exited the bus.

Yes, my children could learn a lot about people by taking public transportation.. the interesting smells and sounds of the road.  However, knowing what I went through, I think I’d prefer to chauffeur them around until they are old enough to drive themselves.   Call it paranoia……maybe.

Our Mission: Recover Ernie

Since we had some beautiful weather on Mother’s Day, I decided to take my daughter for a run in the morning while Dave hung back to look after Ocean. Because we had festivities to attend later in the afternoon, my plan was to do a quick 6 miles while pushing Mar in the jogging stroller. As has been the case lately, Marley wanted to bring her little Sesame Street figures to accompany her for the ride.

As I reached the 5th mile, Marley awakened from her nap yelling, “Ernie, Ernie!” I stopped for a moment and checked her stroller. Ernie was gone, which meant Marley must have dropped him along the way. Panic ensued. “We have to go back and rescue Ernie!” I thought. So, rather than exit the trail to go back home, I instead turned around and kept running, re-tracing my steps in hopes we wouldn’t be too late to save Ernie.

At mile 7, still no sign of the little guy. Shortly thereafter, Mar starts yelling, “Grover, Grover!” “You dropped Grover too?” I asked. Once again I found myself doing an about face, intent on protecting Grover from the same fate as Ernie. Luckily, we found Grover without going too far, so one more time I found myself reversing direction to continue our pursuit of Ernie (imagine what invisible onlookers must have thought while watching this crazy woman and her stroller going back and forth).

No Ernie was to be found as I finished re-tracing my steps, so I abandoned all hope. I arrived at home 8.2 miles later and asked Dave if he had seen Ernie. “Yes, he’s here at home,” he replied. “I took him from Mar before you left, because I was afraid she would drop him if she had too many to hold onto.”

You don’t say.

On Tuesday, Dad discovered that Ocean was officially crawling (apparently “Gamma” discovered his crawling earlier in the day, but we told her it didn’t count since she forgot to tell us).  Previously, he’d do the army crawl, but hadn’t yet mastered your classic hands-and-knees form.  We thought he’d skip crawling entirely and go straight for walking.  We were close in our prediction, because this week he also started walking along things, i.e., cruising and walking with his walker (a little Mail Carrier the Reeps gave us back when Marley was just a wee lass). 

Now that he can stand up, he decided he will have none of that “sitting down stuff”, which means we don’t get to “sit down” either as we are always on the run keeping him out of trouble.  Ocean just began doing the sign for “More”.  He had previously learned the sign for “All done.”  He seems to like to use the “All done” sign more often.  In fact, he tries calling “All done” when dinner has just begun …  especially if it’s any green vegetable.  Good try, Ocean.

"Thank God you showed up; I don't know how to get down!"

Marley was sweet enough to hand her baby car down to Ocean, so we rewarded her with a brand new Strider bike.  For those not familiar with the Strider, it’s a bike without pedals.  I know you are probably thinking, “Well, what’s the point?”  I thought the same thing, but the purpose of the bike is to teach them to balance so that they can skip training wheels entirely.  Marley loves her new “weh-woh” (yellow) bike with her matching helmet.

Ready for Ride the Rockies.

Baby Shower Mysteries: The Giftless Gift

The morning of the baby shower started off with pure craziness.  So much to do with so little time.  After quite the hustle, we finally got everything done and the guests began to arrive.  The excitement amped up as the raffle began and many cheers were heard as each winner was called.  All winners walked away with a gift … all winners, that is, except for one.

I turned with curiousity as I heard an uproar of laughter.  After inquiring, I discovered that the last winner was given a beautiful bag, but it was just that — a bag, with no gift inside.  Holding the empty gift bag, the winner said with a laugh, “Well, that’s never happened to me.”  You have to know my mother-in-law to know that such a thing could only happen at one of her parties.  I would have guessed the actual gift was in the same unknown hiding spot as her keys and glasses, but as it turned out, she had unwittingly given it away as a door prize earlier.

Case of the Giftless Gift SOLVED!