The Last New Year

I love that song by Tim McGraw, "Live Like You Were Dying."


He said I was in my early forties, with a lot of life before me
And one moment came that stopped me on a dime
I spent most of the next days, looking at the x-rays
Talking bout' the options and talking bout' sweet times.
I asked him when it sank in, that this might really be the real end
How's it hit 'cha when you get that kind of news?
Man what did ya do?
He said

I went skydiving
I went rocky mountain climbing
I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chew
And I loved deeper
And I spoke sweeter
And I gave forgiveness I'd been denyin'
And he said some day I hope you get the chance
To live like you were dyin'

He said I was finally the husband, that most the time I wasn't
And I became a friend, a friend would like to have
And all of a sudden goin' fishin, wasn't such an imposition
And I went three times that year I lost my dad
Well I finally read the good book, and I took a good long hard look
At what I'd do if I could do it all again
And then

I went skydiving
I went rocky mountain climbing
I went two point seven seconds on a bull named Fu Man Chu
And I loved deeper
And I spoke sweeter
And I gave forgiveness I'd been denyin'
And he said some day I hope you get the chance
To live like you were dyin'

Every time I hear this song I find myself wondering, "What would I do if I knew I was dying?" (Well, dying much sooner than planned, that is.)

I don't think there's any way to really know what you would do unless you're in that situation, but I like the message of the song. It got me thinking about stuff I'd like to do before I die, priorities I'd like to keep straight once and for all, dreams I'd like to chase, and relationships I'd like to nourish better.

If this were my last New Year's Eve, and I knew that, what changes would I make? What current obstacles would cease to be obstacles? What current projects would fall off the map?

It's been interesting to think about, and a little disheartening that some obstacles really are obstacles.


No matter how you slice it, I do not have the means to travel to Italy. *sigh* Nor do I have control over whether or not I become a bestselling author. *double sigh*

But.



I can decide to see more of the interesting things here in my own backyard. Brian and I have yet to drive the Old Apache Trail even though we've been talking about it for months. It's supposed to be a pretty drive, and I'd like to see it.



I can continue to work on my writing goals and I can take comfort in the fact that I have jumped into that publishing arena, even if I haven't published yet. It took a lot of courage for me to write and submit a book to bona fide New York agents. Sometime in 2010, I'll tackle that goal once again.

As for the people who matter to me, I'd like to take better care of those relationships. That's not a new goal. But I think I can do better. So I'll just have to keep working on that and accept the fact that I'll never be the perfect mother, wife, daughter, sister, or friend. But being perfect isn't the goal, so I guess I'm okay there.

Love deeper. Speak sweeter.

And go to Italy.

What would you do?

Merry Christmas

Is it Raining?

Hail yes.

Pa-rum-pa-pum-pum

Here's my little drummer boy at his first band concert.

He's a percussionist, which means he has several different instruments to learn. The funnest (in my opinion) is the snare drum. I thought it was awesome that he got to play the snare drum for First Concert March. Here's the opening section:

I know I'm prejudiced, but I thought he did great. It was so fun to watch him. He wasn't nervous at all, but just went up there and had a good time.

Way to go John!

Girls' Weekend

These are some pictures from our most recent Girls' Weekend, again here in Scottsdale. I didn't take as many pictures as I usually do (in fact a few of these aren't even mine), and for the first time I don't have a life-changing story to tell (LOL). But it was a good time. I do love these ladies.

And here's proof that my crock pot was in the most unlikely of places:

Polly's tattoo studio.

Her appointment was actually the reason for the trip.

It turns out this is the coolest tattoo studio I've ever been in. Okay, okay, I've only been in two, but still. Check out the mosaics on the walls.

This is a marble sculpture by Polly's artist.

This was sculpted from 400 lbs of Italian marble taken (if I remember correctly) from one of the quarries favored by Michelangelo. (Click here to see pics of the work in progress.) Paulo's actually working on a Pieta which someone commissioned him to create. I'd love to see it when it's done.

Well, I think would. If he's somehow incorporated skulls into it, then maybe I'd rather not. ;)

While we were there, Lynn got hers touched up.

I was tempted to get mine touched up too. (Har har.)

Turns out the guy did not do quite what Lynn wanted him to do, so in spite of her swearing she's never going through all that pain again she had to change her mind once she saw the changes he made. Poor Lynn!

Naturally, we had to have dinner at our favorite restaurant:

(I have a feeling our Fleming's days are over though. Sigh.)

Leean and Lynn ready to go see Rock Lobster:

Polly was still fighting a cold and decided to stay at the hotel. Since 9:30 is late for me anymore I was pretty sure I couldn't handle being out till 3 am. Plus I had to teach in church the next day, so I headed home as well.




It felt like a short trip, but it was good to see Lynn and Polly again and meet their friend Leean. They'll be back in May, which means lots and lots of swimming. Yeah baby!

Here We Go Again

After three months of no episodes, I forgot all about the issues with Christopher's heart. (Click here and here and here if you don't know what I'm talking about.)

Well, on November 30 I'm cooking dinner and Chris comes in all cheerful like and says, "My heart's beating fast!"

Oh, right! It took me a second to get my wits about me and grab a timer so I could finally get a pulse on these babies. I set the timer for ten seconds, put my ear to his chest, and counted.

It was hard to keep up.

I counted 45 beats in 10 seconds, though I may have missed one or two. Anyway, that's a pulse of 270.

That's kinda high.

By the time I did my calculations and wrote that number down the episode was over. I went online to see if I could find anything about that kind of pulse. Reading through the articles about WPW Syndrome and all the symptoms kids can have while they're having an episode reminded me I'm supposed to ask him if he feels any pain in his chest.

So I ask Chris, "Did your chest hurt?"

Chris: "Yes."

But he hadn't been acting like he was in pain, so I said, "Did it hurt or did it feel funny?"

Chris: "It felt funny."

Hmmm. "Did it feel funny or did it hurt?"

Chris: "It hurt."

Okay.

Through all this though, he keeps running his finger up his breastbone to indicate where he felt... something. He said, "Almost up to here" indicating the hollow of his throat.

I tried a different word. "Did it feel like pressure?" Brian then puts his thumb on Christopher's shoulder and presses on it. "Did it feel like that?"

Again, Chris says yes and again runs his finger up his breastbone and says, "almost to here." Okay, I know my child well enough to know that he definitely felt something, but he just doesn't know the word to use.

.

Another common symptom is dizzyness, lightheadedness, etc so I asked Chris about his head and he said that all felt fine. Good enough.

I called the doctor to give them the long-awaited pulse and they want to see him. End result?

.

Chris is now on heart medication, which we cut in half so he can take part in the morning and part at night. The doctor isn't crazy about that pulse. Nor does he like whatever it is Chris is feeling in his chest, so he wants to suppress the episodes. Chris will take this medication for 6 months to a year, then we'll take him off it and see how he does. The idea is to see if he'll grow out of it on his own, something I'm willing to try if that spares him the surgery.

The funnest part was when the doctor told me that if these episodes get up to 15 minutes, we have to take him to the ER so they can stop it.

The next funnest part was making sure anybody who's ever in charge of Chris when we're not around knows about this.

Maybe "fun" isn't the right word.

But you know, even though I did allow myself the time I needed to feel my emotions about all this, it wasn't that bad because it wasn't that hard to keep things in perspective. Here's why.

.

The first time we saw this doctor, we went to his Mesa office. This time we had to go to his office in Phoenix, just for scheduling reasons. This office is on the campus of Phoenix Children's Hospital.

I literally cannot drive by there, or even think about that place, without thinking of all the little munchkins in there who are seriously, seriously, seriously ill.

So while it may not have been "fun" to walk my little five-year-old into the office of a pediatric cardiologist, knowing full well that 270 is not a number anyone wants to see, it really was easy to remember that it could be a whole lot worse.

At first, I wasn't crazy about the extra long drive. By the time I was done parking my car, I was grateful for it. The next appointment (in January) will be there too.

That's fine by me.

Can I share a little superstitious thought? I don't know why but I've always had a soft spot in my heart for Phoenix Children's hospital, even before someone I knew (one of my YW) had surgery there. It's just such an amazing place and I think anyone who takes such good care of kids in need deserves about a bazillion brownie points to get into heaven.

Here's my superstitious thought: I hope that soft spot in my heart isn't because my Christopher will be there some day.

There, I said it.

Thoughts like that have less power when you shine a light on them.

Right?

.

Anyway, the night after Chris started the medication he had an episode that was so short it was over before he could tell us it had started. Same thing the next night. Nothing since then, which has been almost a week. I figure the medicine is doing it's job, so hooray for that. We'll just have to wait and see where we go from here.

.

Fortunately Chris isn't freaked out by any of this. He's such an easy-going, happy kid. And the way he giggles when they put the "stickers" on him for his EKG really is too cute. As for me, I just try not to think about it too much. I don't know what's going to happen next, but I know he's going to be fine. That's all that matters to me.

Sin City... Without the Sin

Several weeks ago Brian had a business meeting in Las Vegas (of all places) and I decided to go with him. We drove up one day and back the next so we didn't have a lot of tourist-y time, but we did make a few stops. I'm okay that it was just a few. I haven't been to Vegas since I was a kid and I say the name "Sin City" is well earned. We didn't even so much as drive down the Strip, but there were plenty of things I saw I wished I hadn't.

So it was a bit of a relief when we passed through the gates on the grounds of the Las Vegas Temple. It truly felt like a refuge.













The grounds were absolutely gorgeous.

And kudos to Anna for correctly guessing the location of my most recent foot shot. How could you not walk on grass this green?


I told Brian this was the only ground in Las Vegas I was willing to touch with my bare feet.



One of these days I'll come up with a more interesting angle for these shots. In the meantime, I get to add one more state to my foot list.

We also paid a visit to an attraction I wouldn't have expected in Vegas:




The first permanent settlement in the Vegas valley was by 30 Latter-Day Saints who were sent to establish a fort on the route between California and Utah, and preach the gospel to the local natives. In fact, it was earlier Spanish explorers who called the area Las Vegas, which meant The Meadows.

At that time, the area was lush and green, fed by a natural spring that's long since been diverted to supply water to the area's growing population.

The grounds of this historical site include what's left of the adobe residence hall, a recreation of part of the fort's walls, a modest visitor's center, and an artificial stream that barely suggests Las Vegas's greener days.

The residence hall is filled with displays outlying the areas history, and plenty of interesting artifacts.

My favorite was this contraption used to separate corn from the cob.

On the grounds is an old freight wagon, which was restored by an Eagle Scout.

This handcart inside the residence hall was restored by an Eagle Scout too.

We learned in the visitor's center that scouts can earn one of their merit badges here, doing activities such as making bricks the old fashioned way. We saw the area where they do this, but I didn't take any pictures.

Even though this is called the Mormon Fort, the venture was abandoned by the Mormons for various reasons after just two years. Others took over the building, however, and the foundation for a growing city was laid. Am I the only one who thinks it's ironic that Sin City got it's start with the Mormons? LOL.

And that, my friends, is how you do Sin City... without the sin.

Long Time No Blog

Has it really been three weeks since I blogged? Did I really only write two posts in November? I knew it had been awhile, but...

I haven't been reading blogs either. I just spent the last couple of hours catching up. That's kind of a long time. Now I have no time to write a (real) post of my own, but I'm okay with that. Now that I'm back to my blog and remember what it looks like, I think I'll have another post up soon. This week isn't crazy busy like the last several weeks have been so I should have enough time to spare.

Meanwhile, anyone want to guess where my feet have recently been?

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

This is cool. I'd like to know what kind of job involves taking an elephant and an orangutan for a walk everyday.

Writing and Nunchucks

What do writing and nunchucks have in common? Well, let me tell you.

A few years ago I found a writing buddy on that fantabulous website Sparkpeople. We met on one of the writing groups and decided to do daily writing check-ins with each other. We'd set our individual goals, then report our status in our emails. If we met our goals, we'd get a "star" or a "thumbs up" or something like that. If one of us was slacking off, the other would threaten a "kick in the pants". It's amazing how accountability, encouragement, and the threat of a virtual kick in the pants can motivate you.

Well, our relationship has evolved over time. Our short, check-in emails are now long letters about everything from cats to movies to depression to religion to what we wore for Halloween. (When I say "we", I mean "her". I didn't dress up for Halloween, but since Evie had multiple costumes, I figure she covered that arena for both of us.)

Our rewards and punishments have changed a bit too. If we tackle a particularly challenging goal, we might be rewarded with three gold stars! If we need extra sternness, well, someone might threaten to pull out the nunchucks, and that generally takes care of the problem.

It was natural, then, that I would think of Evie when I went to the Moon Festival and saw a performance that not only involved nunchucks, but FLAMING nunchucks. Oh yeah, baby. I took this video just for her:





Course, the best thing about my writing buddy is that she's more than a writing buddy. In fact, due to various life circumstances, neither one of us is doing a whole lot of writing at the moment. But lulls happen sometimes and that's okay too. Meanwhile we're still there to offer each other encouragement and support through life's triumphs and trials, and while we may not be handing out too many "Gold Stars" these days, we're still giving plenty of "HUGS".

Shabby Chic?

I'm not sure what to call my holiday decorating style. It seems like it should have a name, but what do you call it when it's driven by speed, convenience, lack of funds, and children?

We have a grand total of six store-bought Halloween decorations that still manage to take up too much space in my closets. I let the children decide where these things should go, and this is what Ben did with half of them:

"Don't you think we should spread these out some?" I asked, as I started moving them away from each other.

"No," he said, moving them back. "The witch in the "Witch Workroom" [center] made a giant scarecrow and a giant pumpkin."

Now that's just cool.

A few days ago he brought home a craft from school - a fall tree made out of a brown paper lunch bag - and told me it needed to go behind the Witch Workroom. So we scooted that framed photograph back to make room.

I love looking at Ben's little collection. It makes me happy.

We also have Christopher's craft from school, hanging on our wall:

This led to the four of us making ghosts to add to our ensemble. I envisioned white ghosts with black eyes. You know, the usual. My children had something different in mind:



I didn't know ghosts could have teeth. Or, as Ben so helpfully labeled, spiders and guts:

John's even had arms, horns, and fangs. (Can you tell I live with boys? Can you??)

So, maybe shabby chic isn't really right. Maybe what I should call it is just... fun.

Blog Disconnect

I had an insight the other day. (Okay, it was a few weeks ago, I'm behind, but still...) I realized that something interesting happens when I'm experiencing something and simultaneously planning the blog I'll write about it. Taking pictures for the blog and making mental notes about what I should talk about tends to remove me from the experience.

Take, for example, our family's excursion to the Moon Festival.

It was a really cool event, but what I remember the most is taking pictures and videos. I remember other things too, and there was plenty of times when I wasn't taking pictures of course. But still. My mind was in blogging mode. And there's a strange disconnect that goes along with that.

I left the festival feeling a little disappointed. I wished I could go back in time and experience it more fully.

The following week we went to the zoo. I deliberately left my camera in my bag. I took one picture during the break at the water park. That was it. It was nice. I have good memories of that day.

I'm not saying I won't be blogging anymore. (Obviously!!!) I just think I need to be careful. There are things I want to write about, for sure. But more than that, there are things I want to live. I need to make sure the one doesn't interfere with the other.

Update

So my computer's been working since Saturday (HOORAY!!!) but I haven't had a chance to write a blog post yet. I still don't have time for the post I've been planning, but wanted to at least update on the all-important computer situation. Your lives can return to normal now. ;)

Waa waa waaaaaa!

That's me. Crying. Cuz our computer is dead. Well, maybe not dead. A fine fellow in our ward is trying to resurrect it for us. (Is that being blasphemous??) Anyway, my first concern is for our data, because you would think I'd have learned to back up regularly by now, but I haven't. I can't even think about my second concern, which is what it will cost to get a new computer if our current one gets sent to the morgue. I'm praying for it. Seriously.

So, if you don't see posts in awhile, that will be why. And if I'm not commenting on people's blogs, that'll be why. And if you see me driving down the street crying, that'll be why.

Okay, I'm only kidding about that last part.

Thank goodness for the library's public computers, even if they only give you an hour a day. I'll totally, totally take it!!!!

I'm Famous!

Okay, not really. But this is cool anyway.

.

.

.

Check me out right HERE.