Not

It is Christmas time.
I am blessed.
I am fortunate.
I am. I am. I am.

I am just not immune to holiday depression.
I am still not whole.

It seems all the holidays do is magnify the loss.

Time doesn't always provide wisdom; most times it reveals the weary.

go BIG or go home...

Welp, we went BIG, and didn't get home. So there you go.

The beginning of last week was spent much like a sprint to the finish line, preparing the hospital for a big, GIGANTIC computer system switch, and upgrade... more than a year in the making. Go live was slated for Thursday the 1st. So.... Wednesday night in particular was the final heave-ho of a 14 hour long work day...

But apparently there was a storm a-brewing out there. I wouldn't know, because I was in my non-windowed office. 60+mph winds, wear tearing our little towns apart. So.. when I attempted to leave sometime after 1030pm, I unfortunately found that I could not get home. Not even close. Damn Damn. Damn. Go live was scheduled for 4am the next morning... awesome.

Next day, I made good on something I had thought long and hard about. So on my lunch break on Thursday the 1st... during the stress of go-live... I escaped away and picked up a dog from the SPCA. We named him Fiddle. I always thought I wasn't a dog person. I was wrong. I am now totally in love with a one year old boxer.

Thursday night made it home, but no power. Not the end of the world. I can deal. Usually. I mean...not like corporate hospital folks would be at the hospital the next day, and that I didn't have a way to wash and or dry any clothes, let alone iron them if they had been clean.... oh yes and in this dark house, I now have a new dog. Sweet.

The power didn't come back on til Sunday.

In summary: in the span of 24 hours I worked long and hard at work, then couldn't get home, then got a dog, and brought him home to a house without electricity for 5 days.

That's right. Just how I roll ;)

Picture Only Updates

Little Bits

Dad is home, after 3 months... he is home, and healthy. So glad.

All the girls had lice. After 16 loads of laundry, the dryer died. And the girls still had lice.

Feel very much like work owns my soul. Bringing two hospitals up onto an electronic health record, is awesome in the long run, and awful in the interim.

Nick is God-send. I am so blessed.

Emi got her hair cut during the lice fiasco. And then she cut it on her own after that.

The back yard is beautiful after the first rains of the seasons. Can't wait to post pics as we've transformed it.

The oven is not working again. Tomorrow, the new washer and dryer come...AND the Sears man comes to try and fix the oven again. If it doesn't work, I get a new one. If I need a new one, it won't come until AFTER Thanksgiving, which means... free pass to NOT host thanksgiving again :)

Finally ordered mom's headstone. Should be set in the next few weeks.

That's all for now.

Don't Judge the Book by Its Cover

I REALLY try not to whine (too much) on this blog. But I just can't keep the whining to myself; it must spill somewhere... Today it's going to be here.

Last week the following broke: my dish washer, my garbage disposal, my toilet, my lawn mower, my truck, and my computer. Lorianne has been sick and in and out of the hospital. She also lost her cell phone. All my fishies but one has died this week. My gym closed its doors this week. Last week was the 5 year anniversary of mom's death. We are taking my hospital up on a brand new all inclusive computer program, and the time and energy, and training, and learning, and implementing of that... owns my soul right now.

On Saturday Nick and I decided to take the girls up the coast. We wanted to go get pumpkins, and there are some great pumpkin farms out there. We decided to drive PAST all of the pumpkin farm between Santa Cruz and Half Moon Bay, so we could really scout them all out, and pick the VERY BEST one to go to on our way back. We found the one, decided to continue on to Half Moon Bay for lunch, and then return to the chosen pumpkin farm. Sounds bueno. Still does, actually.

Lunch was lovely, and we were having a grand ol time. We pulled up to the VERY BEST pumpkin farm, which also had a corn maze, and we drove our truck to the VERY top of the VERY tall hill where there was a little bit of parking left. We opened the doors, ready to fling ourselves into the fall season and colors.... and... and... Natalie screams bloody Fn murder, and I look down, she is not even OUT of the truck yet, and a bee has landed and stung her. Oh no. No really. OH NO. This would be the only one of my children who is allergic to bees. Not a little swelling that will go down with benadryl and ice, noooooooo... this is my child who goes into anaphalactic shock. FML.

I'm trying to calm her down, and at the same time, tell Nick that her epi-pen is in the center console. Get it. NOW. He gets it, opens it, hands it to me. But I'm shaking too much. I can't do it. I hand it back to him and give him THAT look. Then Lulu, calm as ever, tells him step by step to take the lid off, twist that one thing, then jam it into Nat's thigh while pressing the trigger, and then hold it there for at least 10 seconds. And he does. Nat screams louder. <--to be expected, I guess.

Less than a minute has passed. We load back up into the truck, and barrel down the hill. We stop briefly two talk to TWO separate security guys/parking attendants who don't live in the area, and don't know where the closest hospital is. Nick says, "Santa Cruz or North?" It'd take at least an hour to get back to Santa Cruz. So we turn North.

I grab my cell and call 911, figuring... *hoping* they can tell me where to go. They want a cross street. I don't have one. Well where are we? Heading north. That's all I know. Yes she is breathing. Yes her arm is swelling, yes her throat is starting to feel tight. 911 tells me to pull over. PULL OVER. They are coming. They will come to us. They will find us. Until.... a CHP (sheriff? idk...) comes up behind us and says we can't be there. Nick fills him in quickly, and then, like following the wind, we are now being escorted by the police to the closest CDF station, which has an ambulance. 2 miles later, we swing in, Nick swings out with Nat in arms, Mr police man at his side, and is met instantly by the (best looking :) ) firemen, who begin assessing. They give her another shot of epi (and maybe something else?), start an IV line, load her up in the ambulance and schlep her 'more' north.

In case you've ever wondered... there's NO big hospital in Half Moon Bay. There is a 2 room ER. That's it. They assess, stabilize, and transfer. Oy. FML x2. Luckily for us, another transfer wasn't warranted. (So I'll take one FML back.) They gave her some good meds, some to calm her and some to treat. Both were needed. All she could remember was the last time, when her little face swelled up so much, she couldn't even open her little eyes.... yep.. something like this:

This time doesn't seem as  bad. Maybe last time was a yellow jacket, and this time was a bee? Maybe she's gaining more of a defense to it? I just don't know.

Several hours later she is released from the hospital... tired, aching, exhausted. She asks, "I guess we don't get pumpkins after all?" Awwwww baby! We find a little stand on the side of the road, just outside Santa Cruz city limits. We jump out, grab the closest 5 pumpkins, and are back on our way home.

What a day.

Glad I got the picture below. It does nothing to sum up the day that led up to that point. But... I am grateful, and tired, and looking for a break.

FOUR!

Happy 4th Birthday to the Littlest Bitty :)

I'm Still Here... Promise

Hi Y'all

I'm still here. Still alive and kicking, just working my tush off.

School has started for the girls, and having 3 kids in 3 different schools...is...um.... special.

Haven't been blogging much, but you should know I HAVE written an 85 page training manual for work. As far as manuals go, it kicks arse.

A few heavy things still weighing on my heart and mind. Work, dad, health, church, girls, life. All will be ok. I just need to get through the next few weeks.

The boy and I are still fine. I am blessed.

Here a few pics for the time being.

Picture Updates

JASON ALDEAN CONCERT



Nick and The Girlies :)

Girls' Camping Trip with Gram and Gramps





Maui Vacay Pics





Stacie and Mike's Wedding Pictures 

The little lovies getting ready for Stacie's BIG day

Why I'm reminded that, no matter how hard I try not to, I really AM becoming an adult. Argh.

Catching Up...

Not all of the details you've wanted, but here's the recap:

July 2nd: Alicia and I took the girls to a San Jose Earthquakes (soccer) game
July 3rd: Nat's 10th bday party at Petroglyph (painting ceramics)
July 4th: Nat's real bday, fire house pancake breakfast and parade
July 8th: Finale to Jr. Life guards program
July 14th: (among other things...) Girls left to go camping with Grandma and Grampy Way. Up. North.
July 18th: girls return from camping
July 18-22: I have insanely crazy travelling busy work schedule: Green Valley. Monterey, Burlingame, and Palo Alto
July 24th: Salinas Rodeo. Dad, the girls, Nick, Alicia, Grandma and Grampy, and friends Renee and Evan all came. It was WAY fun.
July 25th: Dad takes a TERRIBLE fall head first, bangs his head pretty bad, badly broke his right shoulder AND left ankle. Left hand hurt too, but not broken. He has been in the hospital, and then nursing home ever since :(
July 27th: Alicia, girls, Grampy and Grandma, Mariah, and I went to the Jason Aldean concert...yay :)
July 30th-Aug 8th: Alicia, girls and I jet off to tropical Maui

Today is August 11th. We had a practice round of hair-do's, special bra shopping and shoe shopping for Alicia, the girls, and I. Visiting dad.
Tomorrow is the wedding rehearsal and rehearsal dinner for Stacie and Mike's wedding
Saturday: Stacie and Mike get married!
Sunday: is Brittany's last day at Youth Director and Worship Team Leader at FPC. It shall be a bittersweet party of sorts... as we celebrate all the joys she's brought forth, and watch her new story just start to unfold.

Girls are back to school on the Aug 23rd.
Sept 1st: Taylor Swift concert with the girls :)

Somewhere in all of this, my backyard has been levelled, tractored, tilled a 2nd time, laid with sod, and has a retaining wall put in.

All of the above has pics to follow...at some point... I promise :)

Happy Birthday

To a VERY special person today.

Love you.

♥

Commercializing It

I've never been a HUGE fan of 4th of July. When I was little I was easily mesmerized by the first few explosions of light, but the sound did me in. But it was 'cool' as I was getting older, to like them. Sure. I liked them. I liked the camaraderie. I despised the sound. I loved the lights. Hard to get one without the other, though.

When I was 17, a car full of friends were killed in a horrific 4th of July drunken car accident. I was forever changed.

Then I hated it. Refused to celebrate, or by any other means acknowledge this 'holiday.' I grieved for my friends, lit candles, and prayed. Visited the site of the crash, and kept in contact with their parents.

4 years later (this is a good story, to be told perhaps next July...) I was pregnant with Middle Bebe, Nat. I remember thinking on the evening of the 3rd of July, how thankful I was that I hadn't gone into labor yet because there's NO WAY I would handle having a baby on the anniversary of my friends' deaths. But no. In true Meg fashion, I woke up about 8 am the next morning, in the throws of labor, gathered hubby, a bag, and a plate of pancakes, pawned off Lu by 830. Arrived at the hospital about 9. Little Miss Fire Cracker herself showed up approximately 15 (FIFTEEN!!!!) minutes later. Oy.

No choice now, but to deal with it. And feel aptly humbled and shaken at the prospect of what had just happened.

Then 9/11 happened just a few months following. Then hubby was a fire fighter, and later joined the Marine Corps. I think all of that, added to then losing my mom when I was 26, I really tried to re-evaluate. Everything, every moment, every memory, took on a new meaning, a new purpose. Life was not disposable.

I do find myself to be readily and happily patriotic. Mostly because I support my grandfather's, uncles', dad's, and then hubby's drive to serve and protect this beloved country. I value their dedication, and their commitment. I never want them to feel they are not appreciated. Every little bit counts.

As then hubby began to suffer more with the panic attacks, and confusion, and PTSD, my view of the 4th of July celebrations changed as well. (Much like my veteran's day parade post...) what is the purpose of these celebrations? I wavered back and forth, not knowing exactly what it was I was feeling, just knowing it didn't feel right.

When hubby died, as distraught as I was, his local volunteer fire department, and his USMC unit came along side me. They would not let me go. They held me tight. They supported me boldly, quietly if needed, providing a never ending source of emotional support. Looking back I can see it. At the time I could feel it, but I couldn't name it. I knew it was there, and as I look back I appreciate it even more. They continued to check on me and the girls, came over for work days, brought dinner by, invited us to functions.

Bringing this back... the point of 4th of July is what? Really is there a purpose? It's the birthday of the United States, yes? Is it the event itself we're proud of? The people who gave their lives to ensure we were given the chance at a free-er life?

As I'm a several years out from the 4th of July car accident, and the loss of hubby, I've found a different kind of refuge in these folks. Yes they are strong. Yes they are courageous. Yes they are heroes (as are many of you, if given the opportunity to let YOUR story be heard.) Yes they get to wear fancy uniforms, and fight the unthinkable fights, and run the unthinkable calls, and yet... and yet... they are human. This far out, the balance of my needing their strength has turned more into a mutual friendship. They can share these things with me, that they are human, and not perfect.

I've been profoundly changed  by these people who have opened up to me. I know that they have struggles. They have struggles, and have flashbacks, and PTSD, and so, so much more.

Let me wrap this up, I really do have a point here.

I'm all for a good show, and a few moments of distracted bliss, but really, REALLY... we find it necessary to blow things up on the 4th of July, in celebration of the USA's birth, and indirectly those who have, and who continue to try and keep this country safe and as it was intended...free. Are we mocking them? Mimicking war, fire fights, explosions? Never mind the fact that those who fought past wars, served over seas, saw combat, this doesn't really acknowledge their contribution. It commercializes it. It doesn't do it justice. Call it what you want, but really folks, let's name it appropriately.

I have friends who 'hit the deck' when the Roaring Camp Confederate War re-enactments start up. The BOOMs send them to the ground, in an effort to save their lives. It's instinctive. That's what they were trained to do (for us). I survived (barely) hubby's bouts of worsening  PTSD, the nightmares, the endless panic attacks, the delusions, and the triggers. He didn't survive. But I did.

Last night Nat after her birthday festivities, she was invited with a friend to a BBQ, and then fireworks. (Feeling very blessed. I WOULD have taken her, but boy oh boy it's awesome when someone offers to take her, and I get to avoid large crowds, and explosions.) Instead I spent the evening at home with the other two girls, and the new guy. I watched him flinch at every illegal firecracker that went off in the valley. He put up a good front, but it's all in the eyes.

I just wish there was a way to make it all ok. Let us celebrate 4th of July. Yes, let's. Fire works are fine too. But really, are we not advanced enough to appreciate and NOT hinder that very same group of people. I don't know how to fix it. I just know how to complain about it so far. Not great. But it's what's on my heart. Heavily.

WARNING

This life has been re-invaded by the crazies. Cute- yes. Crazy- Oh my goodness YES.



Lest You Forget, Let Me Remind You...

... of my awesomeness. It's multiplying it seems. And not in a 'good' way, only in the 'Meg is awesome' kind of way.
In a matter of hours... roughly 24 of them... I successfully managed to:

• thought I lost the keys to the car, but really had left them in the ignition, draining the battery DEAD
• in an attempt to pre-heat the oven for biscuits, re-cooked (and dare I say...toasted to just under combustion) night before's pizza, AND pizza box
• sat out in the pappa-son chair on the deck while talking on the phone. And the chair rocked a little. Deep in conversation, I was pleasantly surprised that this chair rocked, as I didn't not remember that. Cue me rocking backwards, and falling SO ungracefully off the chair, and its stationary stand. Right. Not a rocker. Just a little rocky is all.

ALL of this... with an audience. EACH and EVERY time. Plenty of them. Hoards of them, if you ask me.

Father's Day

 

Here's a lovely little pic of me and dad.... um.... 1989ish I think? He LOVED wearing that darned hat to my soccer games. And in this picture, made me wear it instead. At the time, I was perfectly happy to hide underneath it. Ha.

Then the girls and I went to a local store and picked out a few things to add to James' grave for Father's day. We added sea shells, some flowers, a new blue cross, a little angel..... and Emi insisted on adding a rooster (upper left corner.) :)



Story of a Sickie: 2011 Version

Oy... dejavu? We were here a little over a year ago. Just. like. this.

Little Bitty has pneumonia again.

Poor little un-perky kiddo. Such a trooper. Such a little sickie. Such a dang little heater when her fever spikes.