Get ready.  I’m doing it again.  Jamie has started recruiting challengers to participate this year, and you should play too.  Read about it here. Although, I’ll say, I’m not sure I got one of those cool bumper sticker looking things to put in my sidebar.  Not that I would have known how to put it there anyways, but you know.  I guess I missed a few days and Jamie’s pretty hardcore about the rules.  Bah.

Stu recently dissed my blog due to its inactivity.  I took great offense, regardless of the fact that he was right.  So I wondered if, maybe, you would like to see a list of things that I almost have written about, but never did.

I was going to put a blog in the gross chronicles of Blake’s carpet burn.  He likes to slide down the stairs on his belly.  You would think the pain of the strawberry would discourage him, but it really doesn’t.  I wasn’t in town when this one happened, but Pamela and Stu both reported that this one was bad enough that he finally decided to give up belly sliding altogether.  He even grunted for a second like it hurt.  Here ya go:

I was going to put some pictures up in the I heart dinner category, because I have been a part of some amazing dinners recently.  One of the times Mom was in the hospital, the church offered to provide us with meals.  Let me just tell you, the Baptists are not just serving chicken spaghetti anymore (not that I have anything against chicken spaghetti).  Delivered to our door were meals such as Sesame Chicken, Spaghetti with homemade meatballs, Beef Stew, Greek Lemon Chicken, Salad with apples, walnuts, and Brie, and some amazing chicken with leeks and mushrooms in a cream sauce.  One of our deacons called toward the end of the 2 weeks of meals and asked if we needed more.  I told him our crises seemed to be calming down and I didn’t want to take advantage.  I felt like I already had.  This was when he said something I’ll never forget: “Don’t underestimate how much it blesses someone when they get to bless someone else.”  Wow.  I heart my church.

I was going to tell you about our Thanksgiving Fondue.  We had fondue instead of turkey.  It was a blast.  We all gathered around the island in the kitchen and ate for hours (it takes hours when you have to cook each bite individually ).

I have also been meaning to tell you what’s happening with Mom.  Her and Dad were not able to make it here for Thanksgiving.  She is back in the hospital in Texas, and things are much the same as they have been for months.  It was so weird for Chris, Daina, and me to be together with our families and no Mom and Dad.  We have never all been together without them.  We really enjoyed our time, since we get so little as a family, but it was bittersweet.

Oh!  I was going to write about my framed fabric project.  My husband built big awesome frames for me out of chair rail and I put some fabric in them and used them to decorate our guest room.  He rocks.  Wish I had a picture for you.

Now, you are kinda sorta caught up.  Except for the things I forgot.

Dorothy was right, there really is no place like it.  I went to Texas last weekend to fly Mom home and my boys stayed here in Maryland without me.  Typically, there were injuries.  Yes, I have pictures.  Maybe my next blog will be for the Gross Chronicles. 

After taking care of Mom for the past 3 months, and the constant stress of her being in and out of the hospital, this week is bittersweet.  I expected to simply feel relief at having a burden lifted, but mostly I feel like I’m missing a limb.  I feel a need to call every hour and ask her if she took her medication and how she feels and what her blood pressure is and the status of her fluid retention.  I need to know if she’s eating ok and if she’s had enough water or too much salt.  I can’t help but constantly ask about her new cough, and whether it’s productive, is it a cold or just allergies, is there a fever, and then I worry that her allergy medication probably interacts with several other medications that she’s on.  I keep compulsively reminding them about her doctor’s appointments and have been reminded twice by my father that he can get her there. 

Sigh.

So, to cope, I took a nap today and then watched TV in bed for 2 hours.  Tonight I took a long bath with a glass of wine.  I miss Mom very much, but maybe, just maybe, I could get used to this too. 

Another injury by Stuart Hill.  I guess this is what I get for leaving the house.  Somehow, while playing/dancing with Blake, Stu cut his arm on the sliding glass door handle (?).  This confused me too, but sometimes I just like to leave things alone and this was one of those times.  I knew when I saw it that it should probably be closed up, but he refused.  And since I know most of the ER staff by name now, it didn’t take much to talk me out of going.  When Mom’s physical therapist came by the next day, she offered to close it up for her with Steri-strips (bless her) after asking him several times if he was sure he didn’t want to “sew that shut”.  So keeping with my theme of grossing you out, here are some pictures.  Since this is becoming somewhat of a tradition, I even created a category for this gore.  You are welcome.  Enjoy:

Isn’t he cute?

Nice  anonymous physical therapist:

Just thank your lucky stars I didn’t take pictures of the hole where Mom’s chest tube was.  *shudder*

A dear friend sent this quote to me, it’s so perfect. 

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return”  -Mary Jean Iron

Amen.

Sushi for lunch.  Sushi for dinner.  Sushi twice in one week.  Awesome.  Our favorite sushi place in Columbia is new and inhabits the old Blockbuster by our house.  We like to call it Blockbuster Sushi.  I really think they should consider the name.  Easier to pronounce.  The service is good, the ambiance is nice, but most importantly, the food is incredible.  I get so carried away with those ridiculously rich specialty rolls that I forgot (until today) how good their fish is alone.  I took a picture of lunch today:

Now if sushi isn’t your thing (which baffles me), they have a hibachi grill menu that is the cat’s pajamas.  Oh the steak, chicken, shrimp, and fried rice!  I should mention though, that Blake’s good sense keeps him from being delighted by the spontaneous fires.  He promptly waved “bye bye” and began crawling out of his chair. 

It’s about as pricey as you would expect sushi to be, although I will say that you might save a few bucks over the other popular places in Columbia. 

Now, go and treat yourself to some sushi. 

Maruha (Blockbuster) Steakhouse and Sushi

6410 Freetown Rd
Columbia, MD 21044-4050
(410) 531-6288

I feel like there are so many more complaints than praises when it comes to dealing with customer service anywhere.  Feel free to go back and read about a few of my less-than-stellar customer service experiences.  But when a company really wows me, I feel like they deserve a giant pat on the back.  I know that making my day is really not the thrill of their lives, but they still put forth such an effort!

Herb Gordon Nissan of Silver Spring, MD is where I will buy all of my cars.  I will just have to learn to love Nissans (I certainly love the one I bought) because I have never before found a car dealership that I love.  Jim Coleman Honda could learn a thing or two from these people.

As many of you know, I LOVE car shopping.  The fact that it’s a slimey business and most people are out to rip you off just increases the excitement level for me.  I take every aspect very seriously and I pretty much float on air during the entire process.  This dealership is the only one that displayed their lowest price upfront (well-their internet price, the price I saw on the windshield was 2k higher).  It was the first one I visited, though, so of course I didn’t believe it.  After compiling my weeks of research and my tedious visits to 7 more dealerships, I found that their price was actually the best deal I could find!  I mean, I really tried, and I could not beat this price.  It helps that it was the car I wanted most.  I was still over budget, though, so they worked with me to get more for my car, and some perks on theirs.

Our saleswoman, Debbie, was awesome.  The finance department was great.  Seriously, everyone was friendly and sincere.  None of that slimey-ness anywhere that you can sense at most car dealerships.  While we waited to deal with financing, Debbie made popcorn for Blake and let him play in the Nissan Cube, so he pretty much thinks it’s Chuck. E. Cheese.   To top things off, I needed work on one of the tires last week.  Wow, I was so impressed with that service department.  Besides throwing in the new tire for free since the car was fairly new, they offered me a loaner car and  switched carseats for me (no small feat).  They really shouldn’t have had to do that, it was a fairly quick job, but I think Keith felt sorry for me trying to wrangle a 2 year old in the waiting area. In fact, the super-nice mechanic who was doomed with the job of unhooking a carseat that my husband had installed spent 20 minutes on it and smiled the whole time.  I even offered him the opportunity to call my perfectionist husband and personally tell him what he thinks of his super duper carseat installation job.  He only laughed.  No cursing whatsoever.  Upon pickup, they drove my car into the garage so we wouldn’t have to switch things out in the rain.  They helped me with the seat again as well.  And when I came back 15 minutes later to tell the nice guy that I left my groceries in the trunk of the loaner, he ran out in the rain to get them for me.  Now that’s service.  With a smile.

I really recommend this place.  I have no stake in this.  But you will walk in and feel like everyone really is happy to help you.  How many places can you say that about?  Ask for Deb.

Because this cannot be the baby I gave birth to 2 short years ago.  This child wears 4T clothes, size 9 shoes, size 7 diapers.  No, this can’t be my baby.  He’s entirely too big. 

That mark on his forehead that turns red and angry when he’s excited will always remind me of the torment we all went through to get him here, and that he is, indeed, mine.  Never does a day go by that I don’t look at that mark and remember the most trying, painful, beautiful, miraculous day of my life so far.  Time is flying by and I am trying to enjoy each second with this amazing blessing.  I just can’t grasp how quickly things are changing.  He doesn’t want me to rock him anymore.  He’ll lay quietly on me for a few minutes in the chair, but no rocking.  That was a decision he made yesterday. 

But just to be clear, he will NOT be using the potty anytime soon.  He made that decision yesterday, too.

Oh Sweet Blake, I love you so.

*If you don’t have children, you might not find this story about my child interesting.  Just saying. 

Blake peed on the potty last night.  I screamed, he screamed.  It was a beautiful moment.  While Mom is here, I have decided that I’m not going to full-on potty train just yet, but I’m still trying to get him used to the idea.  I mean, he’s in size 7 diapers for crying out loud. 

So tonight I decided to set him on it again before his bath.  Expectations were high after last night.  Nothing happened.  No biggie, I tell him.  He takes a bath.  I’m pretty sure he peed in it.  I’m trying to be cool about that.  After, he gets out and pees on the rug.  Nononono.  I sit him on the potty to calmly show him that this is where we go.  Nothing again.  We sing the 5 Little Monkeys song twice.  Still nothing.  But he did stick his entire arm in the toilet.  Awesome.  Bath again.  OK B, scoot off to your room.  So my darling child trots off to his room and pees all over his books.  Are you kidding me?!  After I have cleaned that up and had a short memorial service for one in particular, I get distracted on the phone with my sister.  My baby-in-the-buff continues to happily play-and, I kid you not, he pees AGAIN. 

What the fruitnut?!  I know my child is playing dumb.  He knows where to pee.  I also know that he does not want to.  I get that he’s not ready.  I guess the lesson learned is mandatory diaper at all times.

So Mom is back in the hospital.  As absolutely insane as that is, I’m actually doing pretty well with it right now.  I fell apart for a minute yesterday, but today I’m mostly better.  You know I’m doing better if I can find some humor in this, because last time we hit up the ER, things didn’t seem funny at all. 

Let’s begin with 7pm last night, when I knew things had gotten bad enough that we had to do something.  I pondered the irony of how things always get worse once the doctor’s office closes.  Then I debated the fastest way to get past the throngs.  Her doctor told me there wasn’t much he could do to speed up the process.  I was on the phone with him when I pulled up to the front and saw the waiting room PACKED with people coughing into their surely swine-flu-filled face masks.  It was a full moon.  That’s another quandary.  Several medical professionals have confirmed that full moons bring out tons of emergencies and seems to cause labor.  Anyways, I digress.  I’m on the phone with the doctor looking into the waiting room and I let a tiny expletive slip.  He tells me to go home and call an ambulance.  When you arrive in an ambulance you go straight in.  Fascinating.  And in our defense, she didn’t have to pretend to be sicker than she was.  This woman was at the height of misery.  Which made our little stunt all the more ridiculous.  So I explain to Mom that we’re going back home, I’m putting her in a wheelchair on the curb and calling 911.  After sitting my very ill mother out in the cold for 10 minutes while she vomits in a bucket, and a good deal of neighborhood drama, the EMTs arrive.  They inform me that they can’t take her to Howard County (the hospital that is 2 blocks from my house)because it’s full.  They have to take her to Laurel Medical.  You must be kidding, I say.  This must be a very bad joke.  Her doctor is at this hospital, it is 30 seconds from my house.  I have spent weeks driving back and forth to Baltimore and now you want to take her to Laurel??  If you ever want to tell a story about a brilliant plan backfiring, you can tell this one.  Umm, well, thanksbutnothanks.  Maybe I can just drive her myself after all?  Do we have to pay for this stunt, I ask?  Only if you pay your taxes, ma’am.  Awesome, I do.  So I don’t really feel that bad. 

Later in the ER, about 1am.  I am starving.  Everything is closed.  I don’t want to touch the vending machines because nothing in there is Weight Watcher approved and I’m pretty sure it’s covered in swine flu.  I ask the nurse if there is any food around.  He says, I have a turkey sandwich, but only if it’s for your mother.  The meals are only for patients.  My mother has her poor head in a bucket again.  Yes, I say, it’s for my mother.  And she wants extra mustard.  Is it lying when every party involved knows you’re lying?

This morning, while still in the ER (that’s right, still waiting for a bed upstairs), I tell the nurse that I don’t want to go to the bathroom here because I’m afraid it’s covered in swine flu.  I wait patiently for her to tell me that everyone’s overreacting and I should just wash my hands and calm down and there aren’t actually tons of people here with swine flu.  After a full 10 second pause, she tells me to try not to touch anything. 

Stay tuned friends.