Thursday, July 17, 2014

Empathy

Close your eyes and imagine the scenario.  The doctors come in.  They tell you there's nothing more they can do.  The cancer has spread and is too far advanced for treatment.  Major organs are impacted.  Your lungs.  Your liver.  It's invaded your spine.  How do you feel?  Do you go home and tell your significant other and your kids that you are scared?  Do you shut down?  Do you continue to watch whatever mundane television show has roped you in?  Do you venture on to Facebook as an escape from reality?  Do you tune into the Colbie Caillat station on Pandora because the sad melodies echo your feelings?  Or, do you go into overdrive and try to make the most of what's left of your life?  I have to imagine I'd get angry and think "F%*k this! I should have drank and smoked like a chimney while I had the chance!" But of course anger is only one stage of several when it comes to grief.

The above scenario happens daily, by the second even. I was recently told that a favorite teacher of mine is in a very similar situation.  My heart aches for her family and all those who have enjoyed her spunky self over the years.  A facebook page for updates and well wishes has been created.  We're at over 200 members and it's only been an hour.  Quite amazing to see just how large our little K-12 school's alumni network really is. With that being said, I'll leave you with a thought a friend of mine posted today:


Stay in the moment folks.

Tuesday, July 15, 2014

F.O.R.D.

F.O.R.D. - acronym for "Fix Or Repair Daily" or so the joke goes.  Yes, I drive a Ford.  Why, I really don't know.  I liked it, it was the right price at the right time.  And yet my Dad works for Dodge.  Repairs would be a lot easier if I'd gone with a product carried at his dealership.  What was I thinking?  Apparently I wasn't.

Anywho, long tangent ended.  My Ford decided that while the heavens were opening up and drowning the state of New York it was going to boycott the use of my windshield wipers.  That's right.  The wipers died.  I have a 40 minute commute to and from work and a little guy to tote to and from daycare.  Driving without wipers is not really an option.  

My dad initially thought the issue could be as simply as a bad ground wire.  Of course I don't have that kind of luck, it needs a whole motor and as it turns out Ford doesn’t just make the motor itself.  I have to buy a whole assembly kit.  The only good thing is that even though Dad works at Dodge, he has contacts at Ford and gets a discounted rate on parts at his dealership.  It's still $200, but I benefit  his free labor.  Thank God for dads right?? 

I guess it is what it is.  I'm trying really hard to not complain.  I have to remind myself that I have a good job, a cute kid, a helpful husband and food on my table.  That's all that matters right?  Right.  Either way today just needs to end and I need to go home and drink a bottle glass of wine.  I've had my share of stress this week and it's only Tuesday.



Tuesday, July 8, 2014

The miniature man in our house

  Things he's saying:
  • I got it
  • I did it
  • Look at that / "lookit"
  • oooh (like an owl)
  • Ow/ouch 
  • Mom/mama
  • Daddy/dada
  • No
  • Yes / "Yesh"
  • bye
  • "Uh-oh" is a new favorite
  • A whole lot of other gibberish from the minute he wakes up