A Night With Emily
Please pop over to Peace Garden Mama for an adventure that we shared. She writes about our magical evening so eloquently; I didn't feel I could do it justice here. Trust me, this is a must-read.
Progress
Craig attended his first physical therapy appointment this morning and came home with a list of stretches to do twice daily. The plan is to stretch the muscles around the broken vertebrae, and then next week, begin strengthening (hopefully) those muscles. The next CT Scan is scheduled for February 9, at which time we hope to be done with doctors and therapists and get back to normal. He is allowed to take his brace off for one hour/day, increasing time every other day. Slow and steady wins the race.
There are some positive outcomes (as with anything negative that happens) to Craig's injury. Since Craig broke his back, I've learned how to jump-start a car (Peace Garden Mama and I accomplished this as a team, more to come on that story), I'm navigating the icy roads like a pro, today I ran the snow blower, and tonight I have to fill in as fry cook helping the Sons of the American Legion. I like this feeling of independence. I'm ready for more!
There are some positive outcomes (as with anything negative that happens) to Craig's injury. Since Craig broke his back, I've learned how to jump-start a car (Peace Garden Mama and I accomplished this as a team, more to come on that story), I'm navigating the icy roads like a pro, today I ran the snow blower, and tonight I have to fill in as fry cook helping the Sons of the American Legion. I like this feeling of independence. I'm ready for more!
Today I:
Woke up with Murray at five a.m., coaxed him back to sleep between Rudy, Craig and I; slept until eight a.m.; went to my manicure appointment; took Murray to swimming lessons, dunked him five times; visited with Jon and Troy and Craig; repeatedly demanded/pleaded that both boys go to sleep; had a fabulous afternoon/evening with family, held a baby for a long time; left dinner and dropped off a sleeping Murray; had another dinner with a dear friend; learned how to open the hood of our truck; jump started a vehicle with the help of said dear friend (no men involved), felt extremely empowered; cleaned up the garbage that the hounds got into while we were gone; fed said hounds cat food because I forgot to buy dog food; brushed dogs, and now, I think, I shall sleep. And that is just a tidbit of my Saturday. Insert yawn and snoring here. God Bless~
But I Have To Use The Facilities - The RugRat Story
Please note: I wrote this post on the very evening of the event, but neglected to tell the story until now.
Here we go again. I sincerely hope I can relate the following story so that you'll find it as funny as the four of us involved did.
The "Rugrats We Love!" and Craig and I were on our way home from Wahpeton, ND to Fargo this afternoon. We had attended a funeral, for a very dear man and we were all feeling pretty blue. Several miles out of town, Mrs. Rugrat exclaimed that she needed a bathroom - soon. If you are unfamiliar with I-29, there are virtually no stops between the two cities (and if there were, we had already passed them). Tom Tom told us that the town of Colfax, ND was three miles ahead, so we decided to stop, thinking there MUST be a bathroom in a cafe, or bar, or something. Mr. Rugrat exited the interstate and by this time Mrs. Rugrat was about to burst. We passed the school, found a closed gas station, a closed bar, and a closed cafe. Finally, Mrs. Rugrat begged Mr. Rugrat to pull into the town's Post Office. She was that desperate. The Post Master wouldn't let her use the facilities, but told her to go across the street to the school. Mrs. Rugrat came running out the door, sprinting, literally, between two men who were visiting in the parking lot and headed into the school. The three of us were laughing so hard at this point that we could hardly breathe. Mr. Rugrat pulled into the school parking lot and while we waited, we imagined many scenarios. Would she be arrested? Get detention? Would someone call her mom?
Fortunately, Mrs. Rugrat came back, relieved and with no consequences. The best parts of the story? Apparently, bathroom emergencies happen often in the town of Colfax, so the Post Master sends people across the street to the school often to use the facilities. Also, when Mrs. Rugrat encountered the two men talking in the street, one of them yelled, "You just passing through?" and she replied, "YES, I HAVE TO GO PEE!"
Some Junior High boys directed Mrs. Rugrat to the restroom (after she told them to "hurry up, I have to pee!) so all is well that ends well.
I'm thinking that we need to road trip with the Rugrat's more often. Next time, for a happy occasion, and next time, we'll limit Mrs. Rugrat's liquids.
I know that this story would be even more funny if one of the Rugrat's posted it, but indeed, you get my version.
Thanks guys, for making a sad day a little better. I'm really glad you had a full bladder, Mrs. Rugrat. I'm sure Bill is laughing up there.
Here we go again. I sincerely hope I can relate the following story so that you'll find it as funny as the four of us involved did.
The "Rugrats We Love!" and Craig and I were on our way home from Wahpeton, ND to Fargo this afternoon. We had attended a funeral, for a very dear man and we were all feeling pretty blue. Several miles out of town, Mrs. Rugrat exclaimed that she needed a bathroom - soon. If you are unfamiliar with I-29, there are virtually no stops between the two cities (and if there were, we had already passed them). Tom Tom told us that the town of Colfax, ND was three miles ahead, so we decided to stop, thinking there MUST be a bathroom in a cafe, or bar, or something. Mr. Rugrat exited the interstate and by this time Mrs. Rugrat was about to burst. We passed the school, found a closed gas station, a closed bar, and a closed cafe. Finally, Mrs. Rugrat begged Mr. Rugrat to pull into the town's Post Office. She was that desperate. The Post Master wouldn't let her use the facilities, but told her to go across the street to the school. Mrs. Rugrat came running out the door, sprinting, literally, between two men who were visiting in the parking lot and headed into the school. The three of us were laughing so hard at this point that we could hardly breathe. Mr. Rugrat pulled into the school parking lot and while we waited, we imagined many scenarios. Would she be arrested? Get detention? Would someone call her mom?
Fortunately, Mrs. Rugrat came back, relieved and with no consequences. The best parts of the story? Apparently, bathroom emergencies happen often in the town of Colfax, so the Post Master sends people across the street to the school often to use the facilities. Also, when Mrs. Rugrat encountered the two men talking in the street, one of them yelled, "You just passing through?" and she replied, "YES, I HAVE TO GO PEE!"
Some Junior High boys directed Mrs. Rugrat to the restroom (after she told them to "hurry up, I have to pee!) so all is well that ends well.
I'm thinking that we need to road trip with the Rugrat's more often. Next time, for a happy occasion, and next time, we'll limit Mrs. Rugrat's liquids.
I know that this story would be even more funny if one of the Rugrat's posted it, but indeed, you get my version.
Thanks guys, for making a sad day a little better. I'm really glad you had a full bladder, Mrs. Rugrat. I'm sure Bill is laughing up there.
Rose Colored Glasses, Part II, Or Is It Part III?
Apparently I should have my glasses adjusted. All things considered, well. . .read on.
Due to recent security breaches in the Internet world (the latest one lists your income and maps your home), I've decided to take some precautions. My Facebook page and this blog will no longer contain contact information, location, or anything else that should remain private. I was too brave and trusting (go figure) and have realized that for the security of my family, I will now be a bit more guarded.
On to new adventures. Despite a 13-hour day in my new role as Director of Annual Giving, I'm happy. I'm exhausted, yes, but it's a fulfilled tired. Our phone-a-thon had a super run tonight, even though we only had five callers. I'm challenged, but am also able to find my niche in this new position.
When I called home after supper tonight, Murray cried when I explained that I wouldn't be home until after his bed time, but I assured him that I would give him a kiss while he slept. I could just picture the crocodile tears streaming down his face. When I hung up the phone, I burst into tears too. We will all get used to this change, just as we have adjusted to other changes. Who keeps moving the damn cheese? But change is good and so is embracing each moment, one at a time; even if those moments aren't perfect.
Which. They. Have. Not. Been. Perfect. But you know what? Nothing is ever the way it seems and we all perceive situations differently. Rose colored glasses or not, I am, always have been, and always will be, an optimist. If my heart gets broken, well, at least it didn't get me down when I needed to fight. Maybe that makes me unrealistic and unwilling to face the truth, but when all is said is done, "this too, shall pass". The other thing? I respect the realistic point of view, but I'm just not capable of facing it until I've done everything I can to make sure that all is well. G - I hope you are reading and I hope you know how very much I love and respect you. We'll talk soon.
That said, good night, and "Be At Peace".
Ree
Due to recent security breaches in the Internet world (the latest one lists your income and maps your home), I've decided to take some precautions. My Facebook page and this blog will no longer contain contact information, location, or anything else that should remain private. I was too brave and trusting (go figure) and have realized that for the security of my family, I will now be a bit more guarded.
On to new adventures. Despite a 13-hour day in my new role as Director of Annual Giving, I'm happy. I'm exhausted, yes, but it's a fulfilled tired. Our phone-a-thon had a super run tonight, even though we only had five callers. I'm challenged, but am also able to find my niche in this new position.
When I called home after supper tonight, Murray cried when I explained that I wouldn't be home until after his bed time, but I assured him that I would give him a kiss while he slept. I could just picture the crocodile tears streaming down his face. When I hung up the phone, I burst into tears too. We will all get used to this change, just as we have adjusted to other changes. Who keeps moving the damn cheese? But change is good and so is embracing each moment, one at a time; even if those moments aren't perfect.
Which. They. Have. Not. Been. Perfect. But you know what? Nothing is ever the way it seems and we all perceive situations differently. Rose colored glasses or not, I am, always have been, and always will be, an optimist. If my heart gets broken, well, at least it didn't get me down when I needed to fight. Maybe that makes me unrealistic and unwilling to face the truth, but when all is said is done, "this too, shall pass". The other thing? I respect the realistic point of view, but I'm just not capable of facing it until I've done everything I can to make sure that all is well. G - I hope you are reading and I hope you know how very much I love and respect you. We'll talk soon.
That said, good night, and "Be At Peace".
Ree
Yuck
Please note: If you have a weak stomach, stop reading now. I'm only posting this for posterity.
I'm cold, I'm freezing, I'm tired, I'm exhausted. But I'm grateful. Make that blessed, grateful, and happy. We have a roof over our heads, good health, and a sweet-three-year old to love and many family and friends. And of course, the dogs and cat. But I wasn't so pleased with the latter yesterday morning.
We were dressed and ready to go to church (for a baptism that Craig was one of two Godfathers). As I was finishing my own preparations for the big day, I asked Murray to put his boots and coat on. He did so and a couple of minutes later, he came to me saying, "something stinks, mama. Pee-Yew." The smell hit me before I could look. What I discovered was Murray covered in (for lack of a better word) poop. Craig came running (well, not running, exactly, but moving as fast as a broken back will allow) after I began to gag, and together we realized that one of our animals had been sick and had an accident. In Murray's coat. And in his boot. We stripped Murray down, but by this time Craig was late for baptism, so he called the other Godfather to pick him up. In the mean time, I ran around begging our feces-covered little man not to touch anything, while looking for fresh clothes, coat, shoes, and washing my hands every 30 seconds or so. I couldn't find one of his tennis shoes (Rudy hides shoes), so I was frantically shoving his feet into last years' way-too-small shoes. That didn't work, so I was forced to clean the dirty boot, spray it with Febreeze and finally, we headed to church.
The baptism and Mass were absolutely beautiful and we made it in time. I was afraid that our fellow parishioner's would smell the boot, but no one complained, and many giggled when Murray burst into song with the choir.
Due to the weather, one of the Godmothers was unable to travel, so Murray filled in carrying the gifts; poopy boot and all. He was really quite proud.
Everything turned out in the end, and we had a beautiful day with family and friends celebrating Ava's baptism.
Moral of the story? Don't forget to make sure that the cat has access to his litter box. Oh, and always hang up your coat, even if you think it's in a safe place.
I'm cold, I'm freezing, I'm tired, I'm exhausted. But I'm grateful. Make that blessed, grateful, and happy. We have a roof over our heads, good health, and a sweet-three-year old to love and many family and friends. And of course, the dogs and cat. But I wasn't so pleased with the latter yesterday morning.
We were dressed and ready to go to church (for a baptism that Craig was one of two Godfathers). As I was finishing my own preparations for the big day, I asked Murray to put his boots and coat on. He did so and a couple of minutes later, he came to me saying, "something stinks, mama. Pee-Yew." The smell hit me before I could look. What I discovered was Murray covered in (for lack of a better word) poop. Craig came running (well, not running, exactly, but moving as fast as a broken back will allow) after I began to gag, and together we realized that one of our animals had been sick and had an accident. In Murray's coat. And in his boot. We stripped Murray down, but by this time Craig was late for baptism, so he called the other Godfather to pick him up. In the mean time, I ran around begging our feces-covered little man not to touch anything, while looking for fresh clothes, coat, shoes, and washing my hands every 30 seconds or so. I couldn't find one of his tennis shoes (Rudy hides shoes), so I was frantically shoving his feet into last years' way-too-small shoes. That didn't work, so I was forced to clean the dirty boot, spray it with Febreeze and finally, we headed to church.
The baptism and Mass were absolutely beautiful and we made it in time. I was afraid that our fellow parishioner's would smell the boot, but no one complained, and many giggled when Murray burst into song with the choir.
Due to the weather, one of the Godmothers was unable to travel, so Murray filled in carrying the gifts; poopy boot and all. He was really quite proud.
Everything turned out in the end, and we had a beautiful day with family and friends celebrating Ava's baptism.
Moral of the story? Don't forget to make sure that the cat has access to his litter box. Oh, and always hang up your coat, even if you think it's in a safe place.
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