Road Trip

Going to Charleston, SC, tomorrow . . . our first road trip with the girls. We rarely drive anywhere because of Jim's frequent flyer miles, but the Charleston trip was last minute and is only 5 hours from here . . . so we are hitting the road tomorrow morning.

Can you tell I'm anxious about the driving aspect of this trip? I hope it goes well. Worst case scenario (in my opinion): car sickness. It's happened to Meg before, so I pray that was a fluke and it won't happen again. If we make it to SC with both girls and no vomit, I'll be a happy mommy.

We have some very good friends that live in Charleston, and they have been kind enough to invite us -- our WHOLE clan -- to come and stay the weekend. When we used to go visiting, it was just Jim and I . . . no real inconvenience for anyone. Then we had one baby, which made us a little more cumbersome as visitors, but still no biggie. Now when we go visiting, here comes Mom, Dad, Big Sister AND Little Sister. We are a whole lot of family (and all the stuff that comes with it). Hopefully the Smiths (our Charleston hosts) don't mind too much.

It's going to be a great weekend, I can already tell. We are going to the BEACH on Saturday night for pictures, so what else could I possibly ask for? I'm just so excited to get away . . . after the April we had around here, a weekend out of town is perfect for us.

Must go get to the packing and cleaning . . . conveniently, Jim is not coming home to drive us until early tomorrow morning, so I will be doing the prep work solo . . .

Out in Public

Today we spent the day in Newnan with my dad. He's doing well -- so very well, and we know how lucky we are. Now that he's out of the hospital and has really started doing some research on larynjectemees (that is the term for people who have had their voice box removed), we know it could have been a LOT worse. Not that he feels lucky to have had cancer (again), but my dad seems to feel lucky to have survived and to be recovering so well so quickly.

During our visit today, we decided to take Meg to the big Burger King in town for lunch. Her lunch time request today was 'Cheeburgers' . . . and the BK down there has some really massive indoor playground equipement. Sounded like a win-win for us all.

When Dad, Meg, Kate, and I arrived at the restaurant, we decided to divide and conquer . . . Dad would take Meg to play while I took Kate with me to order the food. My dad just had his feeding tube removed last week, and he's having really no trouble with food what-so-ever. He's glad to be back eating solids, and he is anxious to taste things again. With his new electro-larynx, my dad asked me to get him a cheeseburger and a milkshake. He thought he'd try and see how easily a cheeseburger went down his still swollen throat, and the milkshake he know would be fine. I said something about being surprised that he wanted to try something like a cheeseburger, but he said he'd just see how it went.

We parted ways, and I noticed an older couple with their granddaughter sitting in the corner of the dining room, looking at us very intensely. Staring, really.

Do I know them? I thought. I always think this when I'm in my hometown of Newnan . . . I am so bad at remembering people, so I am always wondering if I should know someone that notices me.

Oh -- they are probably noticing my dad here with me and his two grandaughters. Grandparents seem to have that kinda bond in public. I decided that was probably the reason for the staring.

Then, as I walked away and got into the line to order, I realized they were actually staring at us for a totally different reason.

My dad's 'new voice' is certainly not something you hear every day. If you want a sample,
here and then click the green play buttons to listen. And those demonstrations are from people who are accustomed to using the devices . . . we are still getting used to them on the speaking AND listening ends), and it takes some time to master the new way of speaking. My dad sounds GREAT -- since he got his 'voice' last week, he's learned a lot and I think I understand about 95% of our converstaions. The phone is a bit tricky, but we are getting that, too. He's doing awesome.

But -- to those other grandparents in Burger King today -- my dad's voice was certainly something to stare at. They don't know how great he's doing. They just know it sounds weird. They probably wondered what the heck was going on . . . until they turned saw my dad speaking to me. Then they probably wondered what had happened to cause him to use an electronic voice. They probably thought a lot of different things while they were staring at us.

It didn't bother me, the staring. Like I said, it took me a minute to even realize what was going on. I don't think it really bothers my dad, either. He mentioned to me that he's already been experiencing this type of thing . . . in the hosptial, people would stare at him as he moved through the hallways for different tests and radiation treatments. He's getting used to it.

I just was very caught off guard at the whole thing. I wanted to go back and tell them to stop staring -- that he'd lost his larynx to cancer -- that they were being so rude to oggle at us. Of course, I didn't. We'll experience this more, I know . . . and I'll want to have a few words with other nosy people, I'm sure. But I probalby never will. I'll get used to it; I'll ignore it. I honestly couldn't care less about what other people are thinking of us when we chat with each other out in public. I am just so very glad to have my dad here -- with me and my family -- with or without a voice. The rest of the world can stare all they want.

It was our first experience of this kind, that's all. I realize now that we are probably something to stare at, since we are now not the most common pair of people you'd see at your local BK. Being out in public . . . just another thing that has changed with this surgery. A LOT of things changed . . . more than I even imagined, more than my dad could have even anticipated. We are getting used to it all, one day at a time.

April is Gone

How did that happen?

I looked at my calendar and got a little breathless today. April is nearly GONE . . . already? I was so preoccupied with my dad for the first half of this month, then Paulette was here for a few days, we were all sick . . . and now, here we are, staring down the barrel at MAY.

May is so busy for us . . . on top of a weekend trip to Charleston and a week long trip to Iowa, we have the end of the school year events, birthday parties, a big graduation party, bunco, Mother's Day, a friend coming from VA, a big neighborhood block party, and five photo shoots. And -- I realized -- I have to make, order, and send birthday party invitations for BOTH of the girl's June parties. That's a lot to accomplish in 31 days. Thank goodness the Memorial Day holiday is thrown in there . . . it's like a 'bonus' day, with Jim being home and all.

Um, Jim . . . in case you didn't know . . . don't make too many plans for next month. I kinda booked us up already.

This last weekend in April was much like our May to come. A (fabulous) birthday party, a photo shoot, dinner with neighbors, Jim's sister got ENGAGED!!, another photo shoot, play date with some friends, and another birthday party. It was a picture taking palooza around here. It's nearly 8:30pm as I write, and poor Jim is outside mowing the lawn. A chore that must get done, but there was nearly no time to do it. And the cleaning lady is coming tomorrow, which means some major 'pre cleaning' has to get done around here. I guess the night is not over yet.

I am trying to NOT freak out and get too stressed about all the busy-ness . . . the busy weekend, our busy week ahead, a non-stop upcoming month. It is what it is. We are busy, and I either have to learn to deal with it better or become a hermit. The latter sounds less than optimal, so deal with it I must.

I find that I'm always trying to get things off my "list" so that I can have time to do nothing and just relax. As long as my list continues, I feel like lying down and vegging on TV, reading a magazine, or doing something for me is equivalent to 'blowing off' stuff that really needs to get done. What I guess I'm going to start doing -- to avoid that feeling of always needing to get things done -- is just schedule time for myself. Like Tuesday nights -- no working, I get to chill and watch American Idol (yes, I watch -- no judging from you!). My list is never going to end, never going to get shorter . . . so unless I find a way to manage that AND allow myself time to goof off, I might go crazy.

Think it will work? We'll see.

The Hat Shots

Most of you noticed the new photos of the girls I posted in my blog header last month. The 'hat shots' I call them. I've had a lot of fun with these pictures, these hats . . . and now I have some fun photos of my girls.

A friend of mine sent me these hats with the request that I return to her some images of my girls wearing them. Her mother (in law, I believe) is going to begin selling these darling hats on the internet, and she needed some models for her cause. I was MORE than happy to oblige (but, sadly, it took me waaaay longer than I intended to get the pictures to her!).

If you are interested in the hats, let me know and I can put you in touch with my friend. They come in all different styles, colors, and sizes.

Forgive me if I have already plugged these hats -- but they are just so cute, and now I have the photos to prove it :)

At the Neighborhood Park

Kate is now getting to where she really enjoys going to the park. As seen on my 'Favorite Photo Friday' last week, she loves to swing. She's totally mobile . . . crawling, standing, cruising . . . so the play equipment is now becoming more and more entertaining for little sister. It's really a lot of fun to take the girls to the park on these nice spring days were are having around here.

Yesterday, Kate and I were playing in a tunnel on our neighborhood playground. She would peek-a-boo at me, then laugh out loud. It was a great little game, and I was enjoying my time with my baby. Meg was wandering around while we played . . . she can handle the playscape at our neighborhood park, so I don't feel that I have to watch her like a hawk as I once did. She's getting so very good at playing alone . . . make believe, etc. She's getting so big.

Then again, maybe I should pay a little more attention to Meg. Look where I found her -- when I turned away from Kate to make sure everything was OK with big sister . . .



It's laugh out loud funny, I know. I also know Meg will probably kill me later in life for posting this picture of her.

We take our 'travel' potty to the neighborhood playground because there is no open bathroom close by. I always throw the pink potty and some wipes under the stroller . . . just in case Meg gets the urge. Guess she got the urge yesterday . . . and without even saying one word to me, she went to the stroller, whipped out the potty, pulled down her pants, and took care of business.

Right in the middle of the sidewalk!

Yes, people saw her. A neighbor walked by with her dog and praised Meg for being such a big girl and going potty all by herself. I was mortified. I didn't raise my kid to be publicly indecent at age two!

Oh, Meg. What are we going to do with you?

Time to Think

I was sick this weekend. SOOOO sick. Miserable. Came on late in the day on Friday and body slammed me by about 10pm. I think it was a touch of the flu, probably passed to me by the girls -- who had fevers and congestion most of last week. I was in bed most of the weekend. A total and complete bummer b/c Jim's mom was here visiting and we had planned a lot of fun things to do on such a lovely weekend.

While Jim, the girls, and Nana Dahlby did enjoy some of the fun activities, I sat in bed and had a lot of time to think. I thought about a lot of things . . . .

Summer Camps . . . the are the 'rage' around here right now, and I can't decide which Meg would like most. Dance Camp? Music? Vacation Bible School? Gymnastics? Tennis? Oh -- and what about swimming lessons? And they are all pretty pricey -- should I just skip them all together? I have this urge to involve Meg in all kinds of activities . . . and she'd love them all , I'm sure . . . but I know that one or two is probably the most that I can handle. I think I'll try to narrow it down this week and choose which camps/activites fit into our summer schedule. And which ones Meg would like most, of course.

How Many Kids Should We Have -- and When? . . . . Something I think far too much about far too often. We've always talked about three kids, so it's safe to say that there is one more baby Dahlby coming. Now that Kate has rounded the corner and is fast approaching the one year mark, the idea of another baby is creeping up on me. The plan is to wait until Kate is 2 before we attempt getting pregnant again. That would mean a baby sometime mid 2011 (corrected -- originally I wrote 2010), with Meg going off to Kindergarten later that year. I think I can handle a third once Meg is in school 5 days a week. But . . . is 3 really our number? And if we even want to toy with the idea of more (don't think I'm crazy), should we wait for that third baby? I'm already 31. But -- I'm not ready to get pregnant again yet. Two back-to-back, then a year of nursing following each has left me wanting control of my OWN body for at least a period of 6 months.

When you are stuck in bed for forever and there is NOTHING on TV (and you've watched evertyhing in the Tivo that was not originally broadcast on Disney or Public TV), you think about how big you want your family to be and when you want another baby. At least, I think about that.

Am I too hard on Meg? . . . with someone else in the house (Jim's mom), you feel like your own behavior is on display. I really started to realize how often I get on Meg's case about things . . . standing on the couch, whining, complaining, playing with her food. I'm on her case a lot. And I do threaten her quite a bit . . . You aren't acting like someone who wants a cookie after dinner. You can cooperate with me or we will not go play on the swingset . . . t's like every little thing she enjoys is held over her head. And -- on a few occassions -- I've walked into the room and said a cheery, "Hey Meg!" to my daugher, only to be met with a timid look and a "You scared me!" in return. It seems that she's on edge all the time!

Of course, when she is here visiting, I worry that Nana is going to think I'm too hard on Meg . . . but, she's the grandma, so any kind of discipline is probably viewed as too much by a grandma. Right? People tell me that Meg is sooo well behaved. Maybe it's because I'm always working on her behavior with her. Or have I scared her into submission?

I thought of a lot of other things, too.

Am I going to miss HD Portraits, now that I've decided to put that on the back burner (officially)?

Do I want to have Meg' birthday party at the pool -- or at some facility where they do all the work for me?

When am I ever going to have time to go shopping for some of the Spring things I've been wanting -- both for myself and for the house/yard?

Baby gifts, baby gifts . . . who else do I need baby gifts for? Will I have time to sew some burp clothes like I so badly want to do?

Maybe it was a busy weekend for me -- for my mind, at least. Now I've returned to the land of the living (I'm running at about 75% today), and I feel like I have soooooo much to do. I rested my body so that I would be well again before Jim left for the week, but my brain kept right on going. All rest and a little time to think . . . and somehow, I now feel exhausted.

Favorite Photo Friday

Kate, April 17, 2009, East Cobb Park

Kate loves to swing, and I love her smiles. What better way to start a weekend?

I Miss My Buddy

I'm truly having a hard time dealing with my dad's inability to speak.



He's my buddy. My dad and I spoke on the phone at least daily before all of this . . . sometimes two or three times a day. Just 'hellos' or 'did you hear about . . .?' conversations. Nothing life changing, usually. We just kept up with what was going on with each other. He called to talk to Meg . . . to try and get her to sing him a song. I called to see if he'd heard the latest news or to tell him about something I thought he'd like on TV.



I'm an only child. Maybe it is because of that that my dad and I have always had a ridiculously close relationship. Maybe it's in lieu of a sibling . . . who knows. I talk to him as much as I imagine that I'd probably talk to a really close sister or brother (but obviously not always about the things you might talk to a sibling about).



And I MISS him. I can't call him . . . well, I can, but the 'beeps' conversations are a bit exhausting and very unfulfilling. I can't tell what's going on with him. I can't tell if he has something to add to our conversation . . . or if he even cares about what I'm talking about. All I know is one beep is 'yes' and two beeps is 'no'. Three beeps is 'I don't know'.

This whole situation is way harder than I thought it would be. I'm pretty much hating it all.

Lately, my dad and I had not really been getting along too well . . . December through the end of February were pretty tough times for our relationship. Big change (like the birth of Kate) usually do that to us, but we always rebound. And now that he's not able to talk to me -- even to yell at me, as it were back a few months ago -- I really, really miss him. I had no idea it would be like this.


I want my buddy back.

Easter

I feel a bit like we missed out on Easter this year . . .

I bought the girls dresses and made an attempt at pictures, but they didn't turn out like I'd hoped.

We missed out on our breakfast with the Easter Bunny plans, as well as a couple of egg hunts I know the girls would have loved.

On Easter, we didn't go to church. We didn't dress in seersucker, the girls did not wear frilly hats or gloves.

We, instead, spent the day with family. And this year -- of all years -- we know how valuable that time is. We spent 1/2 the day with my dad and the other half with some of my extended family. It was a beautiful afternoon, and we spent it as a family. After the past 2 weeks, I was just glad to be with Jim, Meg, and Kate for one solid day.

Yeah, we missed out on some of Easter, but not all of it. The girls did get to dye eggs. We did find Easter Baskets left by the big bunny himself, as well as a dozen or so treat-filled eggs hidden around the house . . . a few traditions were not forgotten.

We didn't run around or dressed up, but it was a great holiday, just the same.

He's Home!!

As we drove away from the hospital this morning, my dad wrote on his notepad . . .

"Like MLK said . . ."

Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, we are free at last!

He's so glad to be out of the hospital, and we are all so glad FOR him. ELEVEN days in the hospital. That seems like eternity to me -- and I wasn't even the one stuck in a hospital room for a week and a half.

I'm so glad he's home. DEEP BREATH. Big Sigh. He made it, and so did our family.

Dad cannot talk at all for a while still, and he made the comment that not being able to speak seems much stranger now that he's out of the hospital. I agree. I think this part of the recovery process -- learning how to communicate without speech -- could be the toughest part of all. We can already tell that it's going to be a lot harder than anyone envisioned.

Right now -- and through at least the 23rd of April -- he's writing down everything he wants to say. No speech while he heals. Then, with his first speech therapy meeting, we are hoping he'll get an electro-larynx, which will allow some speech. It's not great -- we got a sample of how it works at the hospital -- but it's better than nothing. In time and once his throat is totally healed, the doctors are hoping to put a small device between his esophagus and his neck which will allow more normal, clearer speech. Natural speech. All in time. Right now, he's developed a callus on his hand from writing everything down when he 'talks'.

Can you even imagine? I asked him today -- does it feel a little like you are trapped in your own head? Not being able to speak at all? He agreed that it does feel exactly like that.

Just imagine. Every single little thing you want to say -- any little comment, little noise, little grunt or groan -- NONE of it working. He says that when he talks, he can still hear it in his head. Today he thought he was whispering -- swore he could whisper to me -- but when I leaned in close to try and hear him, all I hear was the sound of his teeth and his tongue as he tried to talk. Not even a whisper. But he hears it in his head Imagine.

Funny enough, during the 11 days in the hospital, we did find a way to communicate on the phone. It involves a lot of talking on my end -- all yes or no questions -- and some button pushing on his end. Hey, it totally works. I figured out a LOT of what was going on down at the hospital by asking those 'yes' and 'no' questions, believe it or not. I somehow managed to decipher a pretty complicated set of instructions the doctors had given my dad, all in beeps and questions. It's kinda funny . . . but the telephone is such a part of the relationship I have with my dad, it's really no wonder we found a way to make it work.

Anyway . . . he's home. We are all glad for that. It's still not 'normal' -- but it's better. We'll get back to normal at our house in about a week or so. My dad's 'normal' will take a bit longer . . . but all in time.

Thanks again for all the well wishes and the HELP from all of you, my friends. It's so very appreciated and valued more than you can know.

Wednesday was Better than Tuesday

Better day today . . . Dad is hanging in there, Meg had 0 accidents, and I managed to keep from wrecking the car. What more could I ask for?

I'm exhausted, and I don't have anything to write about. Sorry to disappoint, but I'm just not too motivated to do much of anything right now.

Today I woke up, took Meg to a friend's, went to the hospital and brought Kate along to cheer my dad up with a very short visit, came home, went to Target, ate dinner, and now I'm going to bed. I'll wake up and do a similar version of the same thing tomorrow. And Friday. And Saturday.

Three more days.

That's all for now . . .

When it Rains, it Pours

Ants invaded our kitchen pantry late last week . . . their wrath carried through until the weekend. They were everywhere . . . and they lingered for days and days before we were rid of them. Only yesterday was I finally able to get the entire contents of my pantry OFF of my kitchen counters and back to their rightful places. I HATE ants.

Kate got her first tooth today. It's great and such a big day . . . and we certainly knew it was coming with all the poopy pants, crabbiness, drooling, hand-in-mouth, and snotty nose symptoms that have hung around the house since late last week. Everyone knows how much fun a teething baby can be, don't they?

I rear ended someone today on the way to visit my dad in the hospital. Someone was making a right turn in front of me . . . but they decided at the last second NOT go to. I, on the other hand, decided to go on anyway and ran into the back of a white truck. No damage to the other car -- he didn't even want my number or anything. Good thing -- I figured out after returning to my car that I didn't even have my wallet with me. The Tahoe did not escape the incident unscathed -- it now has a totally banged up bumper.

Meg pooped in her pants this afternoon. Thank GOD I didn't have to deal with that. Jim was home with her when it happened . . . she was just so busy playing "Post Office" she didn't want to stop and potty. This is the second accident in a week. UGH. NINE months into potty training, and this still happens?

While visiting my dad today, the doctors came in and said he will be going home -- at the earliest -- on Saturday. I hate that for him. He's so itching to get out of there. Four more days. Four more long days for him. He's hanging in there -- the doctors are very happy with his progress -- but I could tell he was very bummed to hear the news about his longer-than-planned hospital stay.

When it rains, it pours.



PS -- Please don't ask me about the fender-bender. I'm totally embarrassed about the whole thing. Trust me, it's not that big of a deal. The car will heal . . . not on it's own, of course, but we'll get it taken care of. I just feel so stupid . . . I don't need any comments on that to make me feel worse!

Meg & OCD

We've joked about it . . . our Type A, Super First Born Meg can be quite obsessive and compulsive at times. Don't you dare put her milk cup in the wrong spot on her placemat, and heaven help you if you try to comb her hair before putting her jammies on. The kid is particular, and it's exhausting. We wonder if maybe she'll grow up and be diagnosed with OCD . . . or maybe just as a tight a$$.

Case in Point: This afternoon's Easter Egg Hunt.

Meg and I enjoyed an adorable birthday party/egg hunt this lovely spring afternoon. As the hunt began, Meg was handed a cute pail to collect her goodies. Lucky for Meg, the pail was a bright and cheery yellow . . . just like her dress.

"Mommy! My bucket matches my dress!" she exclaimed. And happily -- pail in hand -- she went about collecting what seemed to be dozens and dozens of eggs scattered all about the yard.

After she collected for a while, she returned to me . . . and I noticed something about her pail. I noticed it right away, honestly. EVERY egg in the freakin' yellow pail was -- you guessed it -- YELLOW. There were millions of colored eggs, but Meg had stratigically picked out only yellow ones.

Yellow dress. Yellow pail. Yellow eggs. Hmmmm . . . a little particular? Type A? YES and yes.

What am I in for as this child ages? Oh . . . don't I know what I'm in for . . . this child is just like me. It's the revenge every parents wishes on a kid like me. I got one JUST LIKE ME. Good God, it's scary.

If You Want to Help . . .

If anyone wants to help us out by watching the girls next week, I would be unbelievably grateful. My dad is going to be in the hospital until at least Friday . . . so I'm desperate for some child care so that (a) I can spend as much time with my dad as possible and (b) Jim does not have to miss an entire week of work in the process.



The whole process of visiting takes about 4 hours . . . and it's easiest for me to visit during the day. Evenings are harder because I am still nursing Kate at night and there are a lot of evening responsibilities that I like to be home to help with.



If you can and would like to help me, just let me know via email. (And thanks to those of you who are out-of-towners or not personal friends . . . but you don't have to worry about trying to help. I know you are thinking of me.)



Thank you in advance. I HATE having to ask for help -- but desperate times call for desperate measures.

Favorite Photo Friday

Dad and the girls, March 17 2009, Marietta GA

Hangin' in there . . . Dad is hopefully being moved from ICU to a 'regular' room today. I'm not too confident that will happen, but we'll see. He's doing as well as the doctors could hope for, but he just needs a lot of care . . . he's got suction for his mouth and chest, meds, some swelling in his neck, and they have to try and move him to see some oncology specialists for some kinda scan before the radiation treatments start Monday. Just seems like a lot for a 'regular' nurse to handle when he's out of ICU. But here's hoping . . . the move from ICU to a room is one step closer to being home.

The stress has manifested itself in me by making me sooooo tired. I'm exhausted. When I get home from my visits with him, I just feel worn out all over. I've been bad about returning phone calls and emails because I'm just too tired when I have the time to do it. Forgive me . . . I'll get back on track here in another few days.

Have a great weekend, everyone. We will be at the hospital for most of it, so continue to pray for our family.

Today is Over

Since we found out that the tumor was so large . . . that the surgery was going to be on April 1st . . . we've all just been waiting for today to be over. We've waited to be on the other side of this surgery for more than 3 weeks so that we would all know that my dad is going to be OK, he's going to heal, and we can continue.

Today is over, and it went exactly as planned. We are on the other side . . . and my dad is on his way to recovery.

The surgery went exactly as it was planned and described to us. No surprises, good OR bad. That's good, I know . . . but there definitely was a part of me hoping that the tumor wasn't as large as they thought, or maybe they could save his voice box after all. None of that happened, but nothing BAD happened either. It went exactly as planned, and for that I am glad.

My dad is in ICU tonight. My mom and I saw him for a little bit this evening, and he wrote on a piece of paper how glad he was that we were there. He seemed to be pretty uncomfortable . . . but then the nurse gave him some additional meds about 15 minutes into our visit, and he feel asleep within about 5 minutes of that. I stayed for just a bit longer, then wrote him a note that I'd be back tomorrow. He's resting now, I hope. I just hope he's resting somewhat comfortably.

I'm exhausted from the day, and I wasn't even at the hospital until about 5pm. I'm going to bed, and hopefully I can get some good sleep tonight knowing Dad has made it through.

If you called me today -- thank you for thinking of me -- and I'll call you back when I can. I sincerely appreciate the calls, the emails, and the notes here on the blog. It helps to know that so many of you are truly thinking and praying for him.

We made it. HE made it. Today is over. Tomorrow is Day 1 of recovery.