Jan 22 2007

Update: Because I make my worry your worry!

Now it seems that Spencer may havethis, which would really be better than what they thought before. So far he doesn’t have any kidney involvement, but it could change at any time. He has to go to the hospital for urinalysis every week for the next 6 months and every month for the next 3 years just to be sure that his kidneys don’t get harmed. If they do, he will have to go on dialysis.

It’s still scary, but it seems like they are getting closer to having a real diagnosis with a good plan of attack. Thanks for all of your well wishes- I know it means a lot to them.

Jan 19 2007

I think I aged 20 years in two mouse clicks.

I’ve been searching for inspiration. I’m shocked to say that the best I found was on JC Penny.com. I may be 40 after all. Check ‘em out:

What do you think? Am I way off? Would I look fake in these? Are they inappropriate for a 27 year old at a country wedding? Can I drink and dance in heels while wearing these?

C’mon. I need SERIOUS help here!!

Jan 19 2007

Help me. Help me now!

So this wedding officiating thing… I’m excited about it.

Freaked the fuck out, too, but excited!

I’ve already determined that I will need to apply copious amounts of concealer so that my Irish skin will not betray my nervousness with its lobster-like hue, but that’s as far as I get to answering the odious and onerous question of:

What the fuck does one wear to be an officiant?!

Constraints:
1. I don’t really look that great in a dress. My calves should really be called cows. I don’t have anything approaching cankles, but years of stairs, obsessive heels lifts (while playing bass), and weight fluctuations have not left me with the slenderest of stalks on which to stand. They are vaguely manly, and I hate them.

2. I don’t, at this point, really own a dress that would be appropriate.

3. I’m not entirely sure that a dress would be appropriate at all, but I’m not sure why I have that reservation.

4. Yet, I’m not sure that pants would be formal enough. I am also not interested in looking 40, as I am still only 27.

5. Shorts would be all wrong- see above re: legs and formality.

6. The bridesmaids are wearing lavendar, but I don’t think I should go that way because then it would look like a bridesmaid was marrying them. Like, what? You couldn’t get anyone REAL so a BRIDESMAID had to step in? Which is not far from the truth, but still- it doesn’t need to look like it.

7. But should I really wear black like I normally would? Usually it’s not an issue- nobody really cares if you wear black to a wedding anymore, much to my teenage “Don’t I SHOCK You With My Inappropriate Black Wearing” self’s chagrin. But if I’m officiating, are the rules different? Do I need to do everything I can to not look like I’m presiding over a funeral? ‘Cause I think that would send the wrong message.

8. What color would I wear so as to not 1) look like the bride or 2) clash uncomfortably with the lavendar?

9. These are becoming not so much constraints as OHMYGAWDWHATAMIGOINGTODOHELPFUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCK!

Because this is the most pressing, important issue facing the world a this moment. So please use all of your resources and limitless pools of talent and good taste to figure out what the hell I’m going to do.

If I look bad, the terrorists win.

Jan 18 2007

Interesting.

It appears that I will be performing a marriage ceremony for a good friend in March.

In a church.

A real church.

It’s a funny world…

Jan 18 2007

Spencie- Doodle

My nephew. Yes.

Sometimes I forget that I’ve written about things here and then leave you hanging.

Unfortunately, in this case we have all been left hanging.

My nephew, Spencer, was in the hospital for about 26 hours, during which he had to endure lots of blood being drawn, urine being taken (though he probably thought it was funny peeing into a little cup), two awful, painful skin biopsies from his legs, two stitches for each biopsy location, one york peppermint patty, one peanut-butter cup, one churro, toys, and lots of hugs and kisses.

Okay- I guess some of those are worse than others…

And we have been told…. nothing helpful. Their best guess at this time is that it may be a form of Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis. Though that’s not great, it could be a LOT worse. At least most kids who develop it before the age of 6 or 7 seem to grow out of it eventually. And it doesn’t mean that he will have arthritis for sure when he’s older, either.

But they still just don’t know and are unwilling to label the problem until they have more information and more opinions. It may take 2 weeks or more to get any more answers. Some of the doctors are going to a conference soon and will be taking all of the information they have about Spencer’s condition, along with LOADS of pictures they took, with them. They’ll be showing them around and getting as much input as they can. I like that.

We are hoping right now that Spencer will qualify for a special grant from UCSF that will pay for all of the experimental stuff they want to do. Right now my sister has appointments for all kinds of specialists, but if they can’t get this grant, they can’t go. My sister is a single, student mom, living in San Francisco (NOT CHEAP!). She has no assistance from the birth-father, and the money she gets for school is nearly a joke, though she couldn’t live without it.

So there are lots of scary parts- the unknown, the expense… Hey! That alone is more than enough!

I’m so proud of my sister and how she’s handling everything. She is such an awesome mom. And I’m so proud of Spencer and how I’ve heard he was such a trooper through everything the doctors needed to do. Life is not the funnest for them right now, but I’m sure they will come out better than ever. They have good friends and a loving family to help them along the way.

Good thoughts and wishes for them wouldn’t hurt though.

Jan 18 2007

The Boy

Have I showed y’all my beautiful son lately? Not recently enough! This is from this morning as we were headed out of the house.

People say he looks like me. I take it as a wonderful compliment, though I do think I drool just a bit less.

Jan 17 2007

MINE!

Am I the only one who, when I hear the word “vetted”, thinks of a job candidate up on a table having his ears checked for foxtails and his anal glands drained?

Nobody else?

Huh.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I went to the dentist this morning. I don’t know why people are so afraid of the dentist. I love the dentist. The gynecologist, on the other hand…

I had minimal plaque deposits, but also had a couple of little cavities starting, which he said probably had only showed up in the last 6 months.

The cool thing about the visit (besides the wonderful, relaxing cleaning. No, I’m not being sarcastic.) was that they took digital x-rays. I got to see my teeth displayed on a computer monitor above my head. It was so neat! The roots on my molars were beautiful. I’d never been allowed to see my mouth x-rays so clearly before.

So now I’m eating m&ms; (because I was going to pass out due to sheer exhaustion otherwise) and contemplating what they might be doing to my bee-a-utiful, clean, fresh teeth.

Why exhausted? I’m so glad you asked.

Last night, after (thankfully) coming home early from dance class, my husband announced that a pipe had burst outside and a neighbor had called the property owner’s association to come out and turn the water off. We’re lucky, because lots of people had severe damage to their homes because of water pipes over the weekend. We just wasted some water.

So we packed up our junk and moved to my parent’s house, which is not entirely hospitable because they are in the middle of a major remodel and the house is buried in dust. Also, they only have two towels. Fun.

Cole was a MONSTER, probably due to being in a strange environment. He was awake from about 3:30- 4:45. I gave him a bottle of water at one point to try to ease him back to sleep, and he rejected it, but didn’t want to let it go. He just wanted to play with it. When I tried to take it away (so that I wouldn’t be completely drenched with milky-water bottle-dribbles), Cole grabbed it to his chest and said “No! Mine.” so clearly, as if he had been saying it for years. Then he thought a moment, realized that it wasn’t all that interesting, and said “No. Yours.” and handed me the bottle.

Where did my baby go, who is this tiny devil, and isn’t it true that he must be a perfect genius if, at almost 15 months, he is able to distinguish between “mine” and “yours”?

That IS what it means, right?

No, you can’t have him! He’s MINE!

Jan 17 2007

Please, please, please, please…

Please go read this.

Look- I know it’s weird to ask strangers for help of any kind, especially when it’s for someone who I really don’t know well. Here’s what I do know: this is a good person and the health care system in this country is just fucked. I don’t believe this is even in question. It is fucked.

She’s not asking for money- hell, SHE’S not asking for anything. It’s her friends and family who have taken up this fight. But she needs help, and FAST.

If there’s anything you can do to help- any insight, any ideas, anything you’ve lived through- please contact me or Alliya at I Dream In Print.

Thanks.

Jan 16 2007

Worry. Eight Houses, One Possibility

I’m feeling rather preoccupied at the moment. You see, my almost 5 year old nephew is in the hospital. He went in yesterday and they kept him overnight. I imagine he’s still there now.

His symptoms are (as I understand it) swollen knees and lower legs, splotchy skin on his legs, and broken blood vessel-looking patches behind his knees. It also comes with terrible pain and lots of grumpiness. The doctors are pretty much clueless, though their best guess at the moment appears to be rheumatoid arthritis of some sort. Specialists will be coming in today to check him out, and I think they should have tests back soon. Until then, all we have is wild speculation, which, in my “over-reaction is not only our middle name; it’s our lifestyle” kind of family, is dangerous. We have lots of time to think about the worst that this could be.

I’m going to write about the weekend to try to take my mind off, but please understand that it may not be with as much enthusiasm as usual. I’m sure you understand- you’re awesome like that.

On Saturday we did not see 13 houses like I wanted to. We saw 6. I think. You know, they all really kind of blend together after a while.

The one I liked would take so much time, money, and work that it’s just not practical. But it was the most charming, delightful little house you could ever hope for. It was old. REALLY old. It had all wood floors. The kitchen was small and had a built in table/bench thing that was just about the right size for a dollhouse. The refrigerator was really more like an ice-box. It came up to my chest, and the freezer part was a drawer on the bottom. I actually wondered if we would need to bring in huge hunks of ice to keep is cold. The cabinets had been built to only house that size of fridge. One of the cabinets in the kitchen only held the ironing board. In the den (that they were trying to call a third bedroom) there was a fireplace built out of native stones. It was beautiful. The fixtures all appeared to be original. They all matched and were bright brass colored metal with peach glass in sort of an art-deco style. It’s hard for me to impart to you the charm and beauty of this place, but it was from a time gone by. To use another cliche- they don’t make houses like this anymore. But it’s true- they don’t.

John’s favorite place was way up the hill into what I like to call “The Snow Zone.” I won’t be particularly charitable because I hated it, so John might get peeved that I told you it was his favorite. I understand why he liked it, and I agree with him up to the point of actually liking it, which I don’t. At all. It was a recently totally remodeled house, and they did a beautiful job of remodeling. It was gorgeous inside. Outside, however, was where it lost me. It was on a weird lot right on the edge of a fairly busy street. There was no yard to speak of. It was dark and cold, and it was obvious that the trees and the hill that it was built in front of made it impossible for direct sunlight to ever hit the house. It was depressing. I could feel that with the first snowstorm you’d find me typing “All work and no play make Dani a dull girl” over and over. “Darling. Light of my life. I’m not gonna hurt ya. You didn’t let me finish my sentence. I said, I’m not gonna hurt ya. I’m just gonna bash your brains in. I’m gonna bash ‘em right the fuck in. Ha, ha.” We’d never be able to own an axe.

Our favorite person that we met was a man that we later worked out must be 88 or 89 years old. He graduated from a local high school in 1936 and owned a gas station from 1969-1979. His wife broke her hip and he built her an elevator in the house. It still works. It’s a little scary, but it works. He was very proud of his house. He spoke lovingly of his wife and showed us some of the crafts that she had made that he still had up around the house. He had little squirrel friends that I think were about the only living creatures that he saw most days. He was tremendously adorable and I maybe tried to put him in my pocket to take home with me, but then who would feed his squirrels?

So there was really nothing much from that day that seemed promising. But I asked about two houses that we hadn’t seen that I was really wanting to and she said that she’d look into them.

I don’t remember much about Sunday. I was really out of it with a cold (still have it) and I think I had to go to WalMart at one point. That’s enough to make anyone want to forget. I won’t bore you with it any longer.

Monday I had the day off because Cole’s daycare was closed. We spent the whole day together and it was lovely. The Realtor called and we made an appointment for the afternoon to see the two houses.

I was really pleasantly surprised by the first one. It was in a great neighborhood in town, it was large, had a big back-yard, and didn’t seem too terribly overpriced. It needs some work, but I really think we could make something of it. I get more excited about it each time I think of it. I think we may have to put an offer on it. John hasn’t seen it yet, but I can’t find any reason why he would veto.

The other one we saw was a 3bd, 2ba manufactured home on 5 acres. It had a small orchard and well established fruit and nut trees. It was close to town. The land was very usable and totally beautiful. It came with three gorgeous big-horned sheep that were the natural weed-eaters (Cole squealed and wiggled like crazy when he saw them, pointing and yelling “Coco!Coco!” which is his new word for dog because our dog’s name is Yoko and the dog at his daycare is Cocoa). They wanted $299,000 for it (which is a very good deal, objectively). The catch? Our view would be of the city sewage treatment ponds. And not a far away view, either. Nope- right down the hill. YUMMY! I couldn’t smell anything when we were there, but I imagine that’s not always the case. On the bright side, we wouldn’t have to blame farts on the dog anymore. I also couldn’t stand the house, but that seemed beside the point. I just couldn’t live there. I really wanted to make myself be okay with it, but I just couldn’t.

So eight houses, one possibility.

That’s all I have energy for right now. If you happen to have any ideas about Spencer (my nephew) or know any good doctors who might have a clue, please leave me a comment or send me an email at heelsblog at gmail dot com.

Jan 12 2007

Puffy Pink Hearts!

Man, you guys are so cool. And I really want to write about stuff. No, really- I do! I want to tell you how I almost cried because we watched the last episode of Buffy, and how much I loathe wintergreen flavor, and how I’m a car dancer and was made fun of when I admitted it.

But I’ve used up all my time for the day. Do you realize that I’ve been 100% billable today? That almost never happens.

So I’ll be back on Tuesday. Then I’ll have stories about the 13+/- houses I’m going to see tomorrow, delicious things my delicious baby has done, and ,I’m sure, scores of other grippingly exciting topics.

For now, I’m SO excited about what you all are writing and the new blogs I’ve discovered. I’m just so amazed at the talent that is out there. I rarely feel adequate, but I keep reading in the hope that your skills will rub off on me some day.

Have a great weekend!