General silliness

Today, Eamon, Emma, and I were getting ready to attend a birthday party.  Eamon, fresh from a trip to Kids Hair, made a simple request I could not possibly refuse, "Mom, can I bring my new hair cut to the party?" 

Catch Up

When I created this blog, I had promised myself that I would make sincere attempts to write everyday, or perhaps, every other day. Perhaps, a few times per week would suffice. Unfortunately, I did not anticipate an autumn replete with cold virus after cold virus after sinus infection after additional cold virus for all of the members of our family, canine members excluded.  I also found myself living and breathing the University of Minnesota, in two very time consuming courses. 

Well, the semester has ended.  Whew!  The children are presently asleep.  Bernard is "suggesting" (read: yelling at the TV) game strategy for 'Deal or No Deal' contestants, and the dogs lay at my feet. Let the blog catch up begin!  (At least until a child awakens or a canine needs a potty break which, according to my calculations, will occur in approximately ten minutes...give or take a minute, of course).

The Fury of Rainstorms

I have become more and more interested in poetry over the years.  I came across this poem last night and found it interesting and well written, albeit quite dark.  My very wonderful friend and neighbor contacted me this afternoon after reading this post, inquiring as to my interest, and perhaps reasoning to include this particular poem in my blog.   Perhaps I need to seek out some poetry that is less brooding and depressive, especially during the holiday season!    Or, perhaps, all of the studying this semester has caused me to have questionable taste in poetry  ;)

The Fury of Rainstorms by Anne Sexton

The rain drums down like red ants,

each bouncing off my window.

The ants are in great pain

and they cry out as they hit

as if their little legs were only

stitched on and their head pasted,

and oh they bring to mind the grave,

so humble, so willing to be beat upon

with its awful lettering and

the body lying underneath

without an umbrella.

Depression is boring, I think

and I would do better to make

some soup and light up the cave.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

(Post revised on 30 November 2008)

Today is the anniversary of my Dad's passing.  Shortly after he died, I stubbled across this poem, copied it, and attached it to the bulletin board in the kitchen of our family home.  I read it often, with the faint hope that it would provide some solace and peace during some of the darkest days and months of my life.  

The years have passed and normalcy has long since been redefined by the loss of my father (and later my mother).  Regardless, my love for my dad is forever strong.  

I miss you Dad.  I think I always will.

Do Not Stand by My Grave and Weep by Mary E. Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there.  I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the sweet uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry;

I am not there.  I did not die.

Madeline

Last year, we determined that our golden retriever, Madeline, had Glaucoma.  Our family veterinarian, Dr. K, suggested this diagnosis as a possibility but encouraged us to seek the opinion of a veterinary opthalmologist.  The specialist, Dr. O., confirmed our fears regarding Madeline's eye and a medication regimen ensued.  The medications appeared to control the pressure in her right eye for a while but eventually the eye was lost due to an uncontrolled pressure spike.  I began to refer to Madeline as "One Eyed Jack" and we worked to keep her remaining eye healthy.  We have now determined that her former "good eye" has now received the infamous Glaucoma diagnosis accompanied by an increase in medications to prevent pain and blindness.  We emerged into a fairly stable medication routine with our one eyed canine and resumed with life's busy schedule.

Last Monday, I awakened very early.  Well, 6:15 AM is really not all that early when one has children, I have learned.  I stubbled out of bed and found Madeline sitting in the living room, the right side of her eye area covered in blood.  It appeared as if she had been very bothered (Yes, I am the master of the obvious) in the area where her right eye once was.  She seemed restless and uncomfortable, which was apparent given she had been scratching her face with such voracity throughout the night.  Dr. K. was not in the clinic, so Madeline met with one of the other doctors at his practice.  He suggested that her prosthetic eye (a ball placed in the socket of her skull) had migrated thus, the discomfort and her aforementioned scratching routine. He placed a call to Dr. O. for further consultation.  Perhaps, the prothesis can simply be removed and all will be well, with regard to Madeline's health, we hoped.  We scheduled an appointment with Dr. O for later in the morning.  Madeline seemed a bit less bothered by it all and I felt a bit more relieved.  

I had a special event at Eamon's school and so Bernard took Madeline to meet with Dr. O.  He had his own hypotheses as to the reason for Madeline's discomfort and pain but his hypotheses did not include the prothesis as the culprit with regard to Madeline's discomfort.  We decided to allow a biopsy to establish if there was indeed an infection or something more serious.  We were hoping for infection and antibiotic treatment.  On the way home from school, I received a call from Dr. O while he was in the operating room with Madeline.  He discovered that the prosthetic had not migrated and there was no infection.  However, there was something I did not necessarily anticipate when I discovered my bleeding dog this morning: Cancer.  Madeline has a new diagnosis to add to her chart, Neural Sheath Tumor, a type of sarcoma.  Dr. O removed the tumor and reported that this type of tumor tends to be slow growing and localized.  Dr. K. called the next day to reiterate this diagnosis which, in his experience, tends to reoccur locally but generally does not metastaticize.  The etiology is unknown, as with most cancer diagnoses.

Madeline seems to be handling all of this in stride.  She returned home from surgery on Monday afternoon scrounging for treats and looking for crumbs of food that may have fallen under the dining room table.  She has received an increased amount of hugs and ear rubs this past week.  We wonder how long we can prevent the Glaucoma from causing irreparable damage to her remaining eye.  We wonder if "The Cancer" will reoccur and when. 

This experience has been another reminder of the fragility of life.   Life changes without a moment's notice. I sometimes struggle with living in the moment.  I worry about the issues with which I have little or no control.  I concern myself with the "what ifs" of the future.  I worry.  I perseverate.  This "Manic Monday" has clued me, yet again, to the importance of true appreciation for the blessings of the present.  One of my life's many blessings is a dog named Madeline.

The Brother and Sister

Eamon and Emma,

I know there will be times when you do not always agree with each other.  You will sometimes question your sibling's desire to play with a toy longer than you would like or question their choice of a movie selection, among other things.

No matter what, I hope you will always love each other as I love you.  

Time for a Change

Obama-Biden 2008

(Need I say more?)

Overheard at The Ranch

Often times, the funniest moments occur in the most mundane circumstances.  I truly treasure these moments when I find myself breaking out in laughter.  Out of the mouths of babes, as they say...

Bernard:  "Emma, Daddy can't color right now as I am on the toilet."  (When you want to break out the crayons with your Daddy, is location really all that important?)  ;)

Eamon:  "Daddy, your baby smells again."  (Emma is Mommy's baby when she has a clean diaper and Daddy's baby when she doesn't.  I like Eamon's line of thinking on this one.)

Eamon:  "Scooby Dooby Doo, where are you?  We need some work to do now."  (Close enough, but really, we don''t need more work to do now.  We have enough now, thanks, at least Mommy does).

Emma:  "I Love you, Mama."  (Emma, Mommy loves you with all of her heart!!!)

Eamon: "I'm a rhinestone cowboy, da da Da!"  (That boy needs to try karaoke).

The ibook

As many of you have probably surmised, I use my Mac ibook quite frequently.  I enjoy posting on this blog (time permitting) and occasionally check in to touch base with my old and new friends on Facebook.  I attempt to read the paper online as well as various other news sources every day (I want to be informed, after all!)  I like to chat via Adium (mostly with my brother) as well as use email, my primary mode of communication.  Most importantly, I use my computer for school work, as almost all of my course materials, including tests, quizzes, and paper submissions are online via the U of M's Webvista system.

Recently, we had a gathering at "The Ranch."  (This is the name we have chosen, tongue and cheek, for our house due to the fact that we live in a subdivision entitled, "The Ponderosa"). The following morning, I discovered that the screen on my computer was cracked.  This crack worsened into several cracks which became more pronounced within a few short days.  I am not exactly certain who or what caused the damage to the computer but I going out on a limb here and suggesting that it involved children! (Read: Emma)

Sadly, I came to the realization that my computer was soon to be no longer.  Procuring a replacement screen and the labor necessary to remove and repair the screen would be cost prohibitive.  And, the purchase of a new computer was a pricey proposition.

It was then that Stephanie and Bruce became involved in my computer "saga."  Bruce is the owner of Northbrain, a Macintosh consulting company in the Twin Cities.  Bruce took my computer with it's cracked screen and migrated it's data to an ibook he graciously agreed to loan me. Meanwhile, I began pricing computers and decided I would wait to purchase a new computer until mid-October in hopes that the rumors of soon to be newly released Macbooks proved true.

A short week after I had dropped off my computer in it's precarious state, Bruce returned to me my computer.  It no longer had the cracked (read: unusable) screen but instead, a replacement screen!  Bruce had fixed it!  The "old" computer works as well as it always did and will continue to provide me my school, communication, news, and entertainment needs for *hopefully* a long time to come.

Bruce and Stephanie refused to take nary a dime from me (despite my fervent attempts) for all of their time and effort!  I so very much appreciate their hard work in the restoration of my ibook.  More importantly, I am very grateful for their wonderful friendship and unending kindness.

Thank you Stephanie and Bruce!!!

  

Happy 35th Birthday, Uncle Tim!

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday to you.

Happy Birthday, Uncle Tim.

Happy Birthday to you!!!

(and many, many more!!!)