A Kind of Where Have I Been . . .

Lake Harriet, Minneapolis, MN
Lake Harriet, Minneapolis, MN

August 16, 2009

I just took a bite out of my horribly tasting, yet very juicy Fuji apple, which is a complete bummer because Fuji apples are one of my favorites.  Apple juice squirted all over my screen and as I wiped the splatters with my shirt, I kept thinking, “Did I really ever have anything to say?”

Seriously, it has long enough that I cannot really remember blogging or better how I blogged.  The words are not flowing and I cannot find the beat.  I keep eating my apple, mostly out of guilt.  I have had nothing healthy to eat.  My punishment:  I must eat this disgusting, dirt-tasting apple.
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Seventeen Minutes Until Pick-Up

September 3, 2009

My crazy Icelandic music is blaring from the basement. I imagine my boys asking me, as they often do, “Why do you always listen to Icelandic music?  You can’t even understand what they are saying?” In exactly, well in approximately seventeen minutes I need to leave. The boys are out of school and I need to be there.

I am going back and forth from Facebook to my Word document. I hear the “beep” letting me know I have email.  I check it and see it is from a good friend of mine in NYC.   Here is what he said, “”You’re awesome.  I am so glad to know you’re out there in Utah.  Really.  xo”

Here is what he was responding to, “Beth Rodgers Adams is seeing a pattern. HOT BUTTON ISSUES: Civil Rights, Abortion, Gay Rights, Health Care . . .” Yes, my Facebook status.  Three years ago most of us would not have a clue what Facebook is.  Now everyone does, even our Grandma’s.  We know our Grandma’s know what Facebook is because there have been a billion articles telling us that Facebook is taking over the world and to prove  that it is taking over the world, we are told that even our Grandma’s know what it is.

My seventeen minutes has whittled down to five and I hear my favorite Icelandic song in the background. It is called something like, “Flytorrrvig.”  The song has my required amount of appropriate crescendo combined with a beautifully earthy melody.  I sing along as if I know the words.

There are no email beeps and so I stay away from Facebook, my new addiction. Today I saw that my brother expressed his opinion on the health care crisis on a mutual friend’s Facebook page. I didn’t really agree with what he was saying and because I have not spoken to this mutual friend in years and years and years, I wanted him to know that not everyone in my family feels the same way. Instead of cleaning or ironing or working on my very long “To-Do” list, I spent the afternoon defending my Health Care Reform position.

Oops! Time to go. I am going to be late.

Washington DC: Snakes Once We Got Off The Plane

While away many amazing things happened to our family. I tried to record some of them. Here is the story of 7 year old Kyle’s Copperhead snake bite.

July 2007 . . .

The Short Version:  On Tuesday afternoon, July 17, Kyle was bitten by a baby Copperhead Snake.  (Because baby snakes have no self-control, their bite is much more powerful, because they release all their venom at once.)  After a 3 day stay in the DC Children’s hospital and after receiving 14 vials of anti-venom, he is going to be ok.  We are now back in Park City, home and safe.

The Long Story: Tuesday afternoon we went to meet our friends Quinn and Max at Carderock, part of the Great Falls area on the Maryland side of the Potomac River.

While we waited for our friends, I made a phone call while Davy took the boys on a little hike.  While I was talking to Joe (one of the guys who works with us on our house), Kyle spotted a snake. He did the RIGHT thing and asked Dave if the snake was poisonous and then he asked Dave if he could pick it up. (Dave grew up here in Maryland and spent many a day as a boy catching snakes at this very same park).  Dave thought the snake looked like a Rat Snake and told Kyle it would be ok to pick it up.  Kyle walked around for about five minutes holding the snake in a responsible-snake-holding-position:  around its head. Then Dave told Kyle that he thought it would be ok to hold the snake differently.  At that, Kyle grabbed the snake around the middle. And at once, the snake showed its fangs and bit Kyle on his right index finger.

Eli came running out of the woods. “Kyle was bitten by a snake.” Kyle followed, sobbing, “Mommy, Mommy, I was bitten by a snake. I need a Band-Aid I need a Band-Aid NOW!”  Kyle was so focused on the trickle of blood coming out of his finger that I am sure he did not notice his finger turning paper white and swelling up.  I did.

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Everyone needs their own Yoda . . .

And frankly, right now I am feeling a little like Luke Skywalker. I don’t think it hurts that odds are my Dad is really Darth Vader [wink].

Darth Vader

The problem with me is that I do GET IT . . .

I would say that I have been suffering some sort of gigantic mind/body/spirit disconnect. Because I am still disconnected, I don’t know how to articulate that, of course, the logical portion of my brain can see what I need to be doing, but my emotional/spiritual self is still all a-jumble. My logical brain completely owns that I had a miscarriage and consequently, knows how I should move on and appreciate my life. And mostly that is what I have done; I have moved on.

Then the other night I was talking to a friend — one of the first people I have tried to open up to since having a miscarriage. Before I would even allow myself to really talk about things (protecting myself), however, I made sure she knew that I was aware of the following:

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Pete Ashdown and Six Tablespoons of Blood

Pete Ashdown

The other day a friend of ours noticed the Pete Ashdown sign in our yard. (Pete Ashdown is running against Orrin Hatch here in Utah in this year’s race for the US Senate, by the way).

Ashdown doesn’t stand a chance in hell of winning? You know that all these silly Democrats are really fooling themselves if they really think that he does.

Whether he does or he doesn’t stand a chance in hell, don’t you think it is important for someone out there to at least try to break the Orrin Hatch Dynasty? Wouldn’t it suck if everyone just sat on their asses and complacently accepted the status quo? Don’t you think it is important to at least have hope, hope that someday, someone, like Pete Ashdown, may actually defeat Orrin Hatch?

Thankfully, our friend is not someone who takes things sitting down. Instead, he is a person who actually knows how to make change and knows how to get my goat. Nevertheless, his Pete Ashdown vs. Orrin Hatch comments got me thinking. . .

And thinking is all l I have been doing since I saw the empty embryonic sac on my ultra-sound.

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Two Pink Lines: The Beginning

Two Pink Lines
Two Pink Lines

Where do I begin?

I guess it was about a month ago. I was headed over with a requested (by Carol’s husband, Chris) a home-made vegetable cake for Carol’s birthday. This day is significant because according to my typical cycle, it was perfect timing for my period to start. I had my usual awful cramps and thought nothing of them. I almost stayed home, but instead, took a bunch of Advil, sucked it up and went over to celebrate my friend’s big day. Now looking back, I am guessing that these cramps were probably Implantation Cramps. Ah-ha!

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