A Moment of Silence

Please take a moment to pray for those who lost their lives ten years ago on that horrible day that changed the world. I know I'll never forget where I was, what I was doing, and how I heard about the World Trade Center attack. I was in my art class and my teacher said to us, "Well...it's a terrible thing that's happened. *silence* The world will never be the same. But life has to go on." And so it did. But we will never forget. God Bless all those that lost their lives and those that must live every day with the loss and memory of it all. God bless our troops that fight to prevent this from happening again and God bless America. Amen.

Sooo....yeah

So I was googling images tonight for a t-shirt I'm looking for. (Don't ask...it's a geek thing.) I didn't think much about it until... *POP!* Right there, smack dab in the middle of all those images, I saw a familiar face smiling back at me. It was a picture of Abby. Huh. I gotta be honest with myself now. It made me feel a little...well...weird. It's not like I was googling images of "Abby" so how did it get mixed in with all those pictures? What process does google use to match images to searches? I suddenly had mixed feelings about my blogging days. Now, I'm well aware of what a 'public' blog means. The thing is: I don't have many readers. As far as I know, it's just the few bits of family out there that may or may not check up on it once in a blue moon. So I kind of brushed it off until I showed Josh. He was less than thrilled about seeing her image on a google image search. Has my comfort zone suddenly become less when it regards the world wide web? Perhaps my paranoia just hit me a little harder than normal. I could be tapping into my inner agitated mama bear who's simply trying to protect her cubs from the dangers of google-searchers. Or maybe the caramel sauce I added to my hot cocoa just now has added just a tad too much sugar to my diet and disrupted the fine balance of reason in my brain creating strange, paranoid delusions. (Caramel has been known to do that you know.) It's hard to say. The cure for my sudden concern is simple. Go private. Do I? Don't I? I'm just not sure. Me? A private blogger? I'd be one of those bloggers. *shudder* (Not that there's anything wrong with that.) Perhaps it's in my future. I don't blog as often as I used to anyways. Maybe tomorrow morning the rantings and concerns of a slightly odd mama will have dulled significantly. The effects of the caramel sauce will have worn off and I'll be able to think clearly again. Until then: To go or not to go private? That is the question.

It's Morphin' Time!

I have another secret I'm going to share with you, because I know you won't tell anyone. Right? Just between you and me. Ready? Ok...

I love The Power Rangers.

There. I said it. Whew! Here's the funny story on how it all started. I'd love to say that I was a mere child of ten years when I began to watch The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. But that would be a big ol' stinky lie. Because Power Rangers debuted in 1993...that would have made me 15. Not exactly the age the show was aimed at. But I watched it. And when I couldn't be home to watch it? Yeah. That's right. I taped it! With VHS tapes. I climbed up on the roof in the morning to adjust the ancient TV antennae, programmed the VHS, and timer-recorded it. My horrible half hour obsession. Don't judge me, by the way. The average age of a Power Ranger fan is in the early 30's. So ha! (I know. That doesn't justify my patheticness.) Anyhow, the abnormality of my unnatural enjoyment of this show goes deeper. When the re-runs showed during the butt-crack of dawn, the local TV network advertised a contest for kids from ages 7-12 years old. If you sent in a postcard with your info on it, you could win the drawing for a set of 13 Power Ranger videos. Too old, I was. So I entered it under my youngest brother's name and guess what? I won! Never been so excited in my life.

So, fast forward to present day. I hadn't really seen the Power Rangers in quite a long time. My video collection was lovingly stored at my folks' house. But I hadn't forgot them. When I drop the kids off to play over there, they began to want to watch the old tapes. Alex became hooked and Abby is following closely behind. So enter the role of modern technology...Netflix. Lo and behold! They have all the episodes on there for instant play. Woo-hoo! So every day, I sit down with the kids and we watch two episodes of The Mighty Morphin Power Rangers together. And guess what? My love of that cheesy show has been rekindled. I have fallen back in love with the theme song and the teenage drama riddled with the constant foiled plans of the evil Rita Repulsa and her desire to conquer Earth. So my kids and I have found a very common ground. We love to watch it and I haven't missed an episode yet. They beg me daily for our Power Ranger time. And the movie? Oh yes. There was a movie. Love it! So call me weird. Call me geeky. Call me a Zord...because It's Morphin' Time!

Remember...it's our little secret. *wink*

Insomnia

1:21 a.m. - Yep. that's what time it is as I sit here writing this. I still have 15 more minutes before I can officially turn in for the night. I don't suppose that I can truly call my condition insomnia as I do, in fact, dearly want to go to bed. Yet, here I sit for the eighth night in a row, fighting sleep at my computer. In short, Alex is sick. He picked up a nasty little cough from somewhere and I am dealing with the after effects as I always do. By avoiding sleep. Asthma is nasty. It's not the most horrible thing in the world, but it's not fun by any means. Alex doesn't seem bothered by it. Even at his worst breathing, he's rip-roarin' ready to go. Then there is me. The mom. I'm the one that makes it so he can continue to be rip-roarin' ready to go despite the wheezing. Normal colds that involve just the runny nose and icky green snot don't keep me up at night quite as badly as the coughing colds. Once the chest congestion hits him, it always gets worse at night. I spend half my night sneaking into his bedroom and counting his respiration as I hover over him with my trusty sidekick: Mr. Stethoscope. I've become quite proficient with the stethoscope, actually...if I do say so myself. So for five nights now, my bed has had to wait until the next scheduled time for his asthma meds. I'd love to say that the alarm clock could wake me up to remind me to go dose him, but I'm so tired these days that I can't always hear the blasted thing when it goes off. And when I do hear that incessant beeping of the alarms beckoning me for the fourth time in a night, it's all I can do to drag my big butt out of bed as I battle the pounding headache that plagues my waking. So, needless to say, I'm exhausted. Sadly, even with an alarm set, these particular nights are filled with restless sleep from my worry about my sweet little guy. Abby's cough was just as icky this time, but she's about over it. And she's even two days behind him if that tells you anything about Alex's reaction to colds like this. Alex is a trooper though. He wakes up for his treatments and never complains once about them. And Abby? She just ignores the loud sounds of the nebulizer and rolls over and sucks her thumb. Good kids. I couldn't ask for a greater blessing through all this. So here I sit. Insomniac Mom. But it doesn't matter. My kids are totally worth it...bags under the eyes and all. Night all...

The Great Rewrite

If you've not noticed the counter jump on my dreaded Denied-O-Meter to the right, then you should know that I'm getting rejections/denials from my manuscript query pretty much consistently. I have four more out to the agencies and am fully expecting them to be rejections as well. These four places have the basic 'if we don't respond in four to six weeks, then assume it's a no' response system. I'm on week four right now with them and have yet to get a response so I'm going to jump to the negative 'glass-half-full' assumption and plan on editing my Denied-O-Meter to 28 very soon.

Am I frustrated beyond belief and attempting not to burn the hard copy in a fit of pent up rage then burying it in the backyard under the giant pile of rabbit poop? Yes. Yes I am. Do I want to turn tail and run screaming into the night like a teenager in a cheesy horror movie from the big bad agent of denial? I think that's a fairly accurate description of how the inside of my brain is thinking. So yes. Am I giving up? No. Blast it all! I've failed over and over again on several things but I am not giving up on this venture. Not yet at least. I originally gave myself a year to query. That year mark is quickly approaching. So this weekend I discovered something. My story isn't good. Now don't go thinking I'm a pot of self pity boiling over into the fires of doom. I'm simply saying that as it seems that I've yet to even get the most mild form of interest in my book then I must assume that it isn't the countless agencies. It is me. Heck, not many people have read it. And half that have read it are biased and the other half have yet to finish reading it. And then there's the few that said they'd love to read it but never really showed interest past that point. That, my friends, is not a good sign. If I can't get an agent to read it then there's always self-publishing. My theory is that if I can't even get family and friends to read it for free, then what stranger would pay money freely to do so?

So it's time for a change. Josh and I had a nice long talk on the way home about my book and we both agree it's a great story. The problem isn't that the story is bad. It's the execution. It doesn't hold that certain unique spark that it needs in order to be marketable. Thanks to a writer husband who is well versed in books due to his avid reading obsession, I think he's helped me find the right road I need to travel to get it just where it needs to be. So that's my plan. As much as I don't want to admit my failure, it's time to buck up and start over. It's time for the thing that I never wanted to do. It's time for a rewrite.

Introducing The Doc

So I have a joke for you. I'll even provide the possible answers in handy quiz form. Ready? Okay.

What do you get when you cross a brother with a doctorate degree?

1. A sudden spike in family members with chronic back pain.
2. The unwilling opening of a family customer based free clinic.
3. A Broctor
4. My brother-in-law
5. All of the above

Answer? C. A Broctor! No...just kidding. I'm guessing it's probably E...all of the above. But really this was my way of saying that my Brother-in-law is officially a doctor. He graduated from Chiropractor school this past weekend and we got the honor of attending his big day. I think he's been in school for like...I don't know...twenty years now? Okay, so maybe not that many years. (But probably close to it.) I was a willing guinea pig for his outpatient clinic but now I can officially, and proudly, call him my doctor. It was a nice graduation. I actually wish that all graduations were so short. Afterwards we went to the celebration party which yours truly made the most impressive cakes for. (That was me tooting my own horn.) These bad boys took seven cake mixes, ten pounds of powdered sugar, 21 eggs and one case of carpal tunnel to complete. Together they weighed in at somewhere over 25 pounds. That, my friends, is a whole lot of cake. It was a nice party and the kids especially had fun with the mass amount of cousins and kids running amok through the church. So, not that my brother-in-law reads my blog, but I would like to take this moment to say congratulations on everything Ben...er...Jeremiah! (His real name is Jeremiah, but I was introduced to him as Ben...his middle name. It's confusing. I know.) Well done Doc! Couldn't be prouder!

Photos now. So let me start by saying that these photos represent another fine moment of irony. I'm a huge fan of irony. Heather...that would be the Doc's wife :-)...forgot her camera and asked to use mine. So the irony is, even though I wasn't the one using my own camera, I still magically did not appear in any of the photos. But I really was there. I swear. :-) Isn't irony fun?

It's blurry, but it's the picture that makes it official. This is my brother-in-law graduating.

May I introduce The Doc and the Doc's Wife. Or is it Mr. and Mrs. Doc? Perhaps Dr. and Mrs. Doc? I just don' t know enough about etiquette. Sorry guys. I don't use last names on my blog for safety reasons.

The Doc and his bro (a.k.a my hubby) and sister. Siblings. Pop quiz. Who is the oldest? If you don't know...I'm not telling. :)

The Doc with his siblings and folks.

Look at all those kids! Good thing he's a doctor with all those mouths to feed. Just kidding. Only three of them are his.

And the cakes...with last names omitted. That's the reason for the fuzzy white blotches on the frosting. Blog safety first!

Tip-Toeing Through the Mine Fields

Here lately it's been...well...interesting. Life. It's hard to say what it will throw at you. This summer has been quite trying for me and sometimes I get a bit jittery to turn another corner. But just as easily as there could be something scary around that corner, there could be something equally wonderful and amazing. I'm waiting for the amazing things because I know they will come one day. But, this day was not yesterday.

It started with a fever around 2:00 in the afternoon. Alex was definitely a bit off and seeing as he'd been around a lot of kids this past weekend and out of his element, I wasn't surprised to see it. What I was surprised to see was Josh coming home, hunched over and in severe pain. At first, I assumed he'd hurt his back. Occupational hazards, you know? When he said he felt worse than he'd ever felt before in his life in a barely audible voice and I saw the pale skin beneath the dirt, I knew something wasn't right. He said his entire body was cramping up, he'd thrown up twice, and had to pull over due to his vision going out. All it took was one question: "Did you work in the heat all day?" When he said yes, I immediately thought it was heat related. Of course, he went downhill fast. He collapsed onto the floor in entire body cramps and then suddenly I heard him whisper, "I can't breathe!" Boom. That was it. Ambulance was in route. It was looking like he was having a heatstroke. He said he was sure he was having a heart attack. I kept my cool, but inside I was falling apart. Now before you get all freaked out, it wasn't a heart attack. His pumper's working fine. They took him away in the ambulance and suddenly I couldn't believe what was happening. I was in the car, dropped the kids off with my folks, and on the way to Josh. The hospital kept getting further away for some reason, but I got there eventually. I had called for prayer from Josh's brother and had him pass the word along. They didn't hesitate and were already in the car on their way...just as worried as I was. He didn't have a heatstroke, but it could have gone that far fast. He had what they called acute renal failure. His kidneys were all dried up and he his body began breaking down and eating his muscle to survive. Dehydration to the max. Four bags of fluid and a few tests later, he finally had to pee. The doc said that if you don't pee, you're not hydrated. First of all, the doctor said 'pee' and not urine. I loved that. It lightened my mood significantly. We all came up with a great t-shirt idea. "My kidneys are happy. I peed today." (Sorry. Had to joke a little. :-) All jokes aside though, it was scary and horrible to watch happen, but thank God he's okay. He's off work until Friday under doctor's orders. Actually the doc's orders were, "Get a red box DVD and relax for two days with lots of fluid." Done.

As for Alex, his fever is getting better, but he's got something else going on. His face is twitching. I took him in this morning and the doctor said she thinks he has tic disorder. Basically it's an involuntary tic that is caused by severe stress or illness. Well, I'd say we have that covered as he watched the five big guys hook daddy up to tubes and take him away to the hospital. Poor kiddos. I sent them to my room while it was happening but you can't hide everything. Let's just all pray that things get better quick for all the people in my house that I hold so dear to my heart.

So basically it's simple. There are no maps through the crazy thing that is life. You can tiptoe through the mine fields but eventually you're gonna hit the bumps you just didn't see were right in front of you.