Some of you have been kept "in the loop," and a few of you will be totally blindsided by this post, but I feel the need to write it anyway.
My sister Joy has three daughters - the twins are 3, Rebecca is 1. Reagan was diagnosed with hyperlexia (which is on the autism spectrum) and is also being treated for a seizure disorder. Riley is her "protective" older sister (by, like, a minute!) and has the kindest heart you'll ever know. It's tough to explain - you just have to be around Riley and "feel" the way she is. She's an angel, here on earth!
Baby Becca has recently been having some major health complications, and that has led to a dianosis of "something" in the family of mitochondrial diseases. Mito disease is a relatively new field of study, and more is being done to know about it every day. It classifies a family of illnesses that affect the mitochondria (which is the "powerhouse" of the cell). In some way, shape or form, it is 100% hereditary, so if Baby Becca is properly diagnosed, it could explain a lot about the genetic factors leading to Reagan's complications as well.
The long and the short of it is. . . Joy and her family need your prayers. They are SUCH strong people with an amazing faith that blows me away on a daily basis. They are most appreicative of any positive, uplifting thoughts that can be sent their way. So, if you send your prayers to God, Jesus, Allah, Buddha, the Universe, Father Sun, or anywhere else, please send some up for the Roeh Family.
If you have a prayer list at your church, please add them to it. Their specific prayer requests (which change often) are available on their blog:
roehfamily.blogspot.com
You can also find some great pictures of the girls and some wonderful stories as well as medical updates.
Thanks for your time, and your thoughtfulness. Love!
Monday, January 26, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Sleep
I just composed a killer blog post. It was more of a rant, actually. Acerbic. Distasteful. Biting. Angry. Mean? Maybe, in parts.
Before I posted it, though, I decided to read it all the way through out loud, with the emotion I intended each word to convey. And guess what? As I read it, I sounded a lot like a little kid who didn't get a nap today and now needs to go to bed. Gone was the fitful, angry, pent-up emotion I thought I was experiencing. In its place was nothing other than a timeless, who-cares-how-old-you-are-sometimes-you-just-need-to-pitch-a-fit, tantrum.
So, I'm going to grab my pacifier (aka bite splint), my blankie (ok, I actually have two blankets that my mom made for me!) and a bedtime story (can you believe I still haven't finished the Twilight series) and go to bed.
By the way. . . The difference between being a two-year-old who needs to pitch a fit and a thirty-year-old who needs to pitch a fit? I saw it for what it was, and I spared the blogosphere the hysterics!
Before I posted it, though, I decided to read it all the way through out loud, with the emotion I intended each word to convey. And guess what? As I read it, I sounded a lot like a little kid who didn't get a nap today and now needs to go to bed. Gone was the fitful, angry, pent-up emotion I thought I was experiencing. In its place was nothing other than a timeless, who-cares-how-old-you-are-sometimes-you-just-need-to-pitch-a-fit, tantrum.
So, I'm going to grab my pacifier (aka bite splint), my blankie (ok, I actually have two blankets that my mom made for me!) and a bedtime story (can you believe I still haven't finished the Twilight series) and go to bed.
By the way. . . The difference between being a two-year-old who needs to pitch a fit and a thirty-year-old who needs to pitch a fit? I saw it for what it was, and I spared the blogosphere the hysterics!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Dirty Thirties?
I'd like to meet the person who coined that phrase. . . because for me, the opposite appears to be true! As I enter my third decade of life, I seem to have become quite the cleaning fanatic!
I celebrated my big 3-0 in December. New Year's Eve was spent cleaning this house top to bottom - literally. It took me a 12-foot ladder and just shy of four hours, and that's just for the dusting! (light fixtures, fan blades, clearing cobwebs, etc). It was an all-day project, and I definitely felt great about it.
I did it again tonight. It didn't take NEARLY as long this time because it's still so clean from last time. I kind of like having a clean house, to be honest with you. Truth be told, DZ and I have spent so much time "on the go" in the past couple of years that the only time I deep cleaned was when we had company coming. . . for their first visit (sometimes for their second, but usually folks only get a single glimpse of the shiny floor, and after that. . . welcome to the dust bowl!). Put it this way. . . we haven't had any first-timers over here in a loooong time!
I used to clean my house. . . I promise. In fact, as a child the standing rule was that nobody was allowed to have any fun on Saturday morning till the whole house "shined like the top of the Chrysler building." Of course, baseboards and ceiling fan blades were reserved for when we needed to think about what we'd done (my own phrase, not Mom's), but the typical dust-sweep-mop-vacuum routine was, in fact, routine in the Davis household.
My freshman year of college, we actually had housekeeping inspections twice a week! Lucky for me, my roommate cleaned our room ALL. THE. TIME. Unfortunately, she also turned off my alarm clock ALL. THE. TIME. so I missed a lot of morning classes! She was such a light sleeper, and me? DEEP. So deep, in fact, that I slept through the night my neighbor's house burned - and there was a fire truck right outside my bedroom window.
I always lucked out in college with clean roommates, so it was easy to maintain some sense of cleanliness. In fact, it spilled over for many years until, one day, I just got tired of cleaning. So I quit. Not all together, mind you. I just went from weekly cleaning, to monthly, to quarterly. . . and then, after that? Semi-annual is the most generous description for my deep cleaning days.
Lucky for me (I'm quite lucky, aren't I?), DZ is VERY tidy. . . and by VERY, I mean "organizes his closet by shirt type, color and sleeve length" tidy. And he's not just a "closet" tidier, either. He's a whole-house-from-the-bookshelves-to-the-kitchen-cabinets-and-everything-in-between tidier. I love it because it brings a sense of order to our home. . . but order doesn't keep the dust away! Granted, he spent the first year we were together picking up after me, and never once did he complain. So, you can imagine how offended he was when he witnessed my first "deep cleaning" session and the first thing I said was, "I don't see HOW we can live in all this FILTH!" He was like, "Hey, crazy lady! I bust my hump every day to keep this house clean and pick up after you, so don't talk to me about FILTH!"
It was a turning point for both of us. I never noticed how much time he spent cleaning up after me - shoes from all over the house ended up in my closet, piles of clothes all over his side of the bed were folded on my dresser when I went looking for them, paperwork always found its home without my help. Likewise, he had never seen me in "deep cleaning" mode (I'm pretty sure I had my headlamp on while I was cleaning the shower so I could inspect the grout for cleanliness!) and didn't know what filth I was talking about when I said that. These days, I TRY (and sometimes fail, but still always try) to be better about picking up after myself.
And DZ?
Well, he's very encouraging when deep cleaning day comes along. He loves to see the "before" and "after," and he's wise enough to stay away for the "during" part of it.
I celebrated my big 3-0 in December. New Year's Eve was spent cleaning this house top to bottom - literally. It took me a 12-foot ladder and just shy of four hours, and that's just for the dusting! (light fixtures, fan blades, clearing cobwebs, etc). It was an all-day project, and I definitely felt great about it.
I did it again tonight. It didn't take NEARLY as long this time because it's still so clean from last time. I kind of like having a clean house, to be honest with you. Truth be told, DZ and I have spent so much time "on the go" in the past couple of years that the only time I deep cleaned was when we had company coming. . . for their first visit (sometimes for their second, but usually folks only get a single glimpse of the shiny floor, and after that. . . welcome to the dust bowl!). Put it this way. . . we haven't had any first-timers over here in a loooong time!
I used to clean my house. . . I promise. In fact, as a child the standing rule was that nobody was allowed to have any fun on Saturday morning till the whole house "shined like the top of the Chrysler building." Of course, baseboards and ceiling fan blades were reserved for when we needed to think about what we'd done (my own phrase, not Mom's), but the typical dust-sweep-mop-vacuum routine was, in fact, routine in the Davis household.
My freshman year of college, we actually had housekeeping inspections twice a week! Lucky for me, my roommate cleaned our room ALL. THE. TIME. Unfortunately, she also turned off my alarm clock ALL. THE. TIME. so I missed a lot of morning classes! She was such a light sleeper, and me? DEEP. So deep, in fact, that I slept through the night my neighbor's house burned - and there was a fire truck right outside my bedroom window.
I always lucked out in college with clean roommates, so it was easy to maintain some sense of cleanliness. In fact, it spilled over for many years until, one day, I just got tired of cleaning. So I quit. Not all together, mind you. I just went from weekly cleaning, to monthly, to quarterly. . . and then, after that? Semi-annual is the most generous description for my deep cleaning days.
Lucky for me (I'm quite lucky, aren't I?), DZ is VERY tidy. . . and by VERY, I mean "organizes his closet by shirt type, color and sleeve length" tidy. And he's not just a "closet" tidier, either. He's a whole-house-from-the-bookshelves-to-the-kitchen-cabinets-and-everything-in-between tidier. I love it because it brings a sense of order to our home. . . but order doesn't keep the dust away! Granted, he spent the first year we were together picking up after me, and never once did he complain. So, you can imagine how offended he was when he witnessed my first "deep cleaning" session and the first thing I said was, "I don't see HOW we can live in all this FILTH!" He was like, "Hey, crazy lady! I bust my hump every day to keep this house clean and pick up after you, so don't talk to me about FILTH!"
It was a turning point for both of us. I never noticed how much time he spent cleaning up after me - shoes from all over the house ended up in my closet, piles of clothes all over his side of the bed were folded on my dresser when I went looking for them, paperwork always found its home without my help. Likewise, he had never seen me in "deep cleaning" mode (I'm pretty sure I had my headlamp on while I was cleaning the shower so I could inspect the grout for cleanliness!) and didn't know what filth I was talking about when I said that. These days, I TRY (and sometimes fail, but still always try) to be better about picking up after myself.
And DZ?
Well, he's very encouraging when deep cleaning day comes along. He loves to see the "before" and "after," and he's wise enough to stay away for the "during" part of it.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I'm BAAAAAACK!
First of all, thank you, Kayce, for the little bit of urging to get back to the blog. Last time I got no further than the headline of "Save Second Base!" It was the night before I left for The 3-Day, a 60-mile walk to raise funds and awareness for breast cancer research. I wrote this long, beautiful piece about the event (and to ask for donations) and then *POOF* it was gone. So, instead I got a good night's sleep before the long walk! And I haven't been back here since. . . so, here's a little recap.
It was one of the most fulfilling experiences I've ever had. We slept in tents, ate in a "mess hall" the likes of which I'd never seen, and laughed, sang, danced, and limped our way through the DFW Metroplex over the course of three days. It was amazing. I don't use that word lightly, either. I wish I had written more when it was fresh on my mind, but right now not much is fresh in my mind besides terrorism. It's what I studied tonight in my LAST CHAPTER of EMT training!
That's right, dear ones. I said my LAST CHAPTER. As in, I don't have any more homework for a while. As in, I get to have my life back on weeknights. As in, I won't be slamming the door in DZ's face when he tries to talk to me while I'm on the computer. . . well, I might do it on occasion, but it won't be because I'm trying to study in peace! I cannot tell you how excited I am about this. Next stop: Boot Camp, a 2-week intensive training session where we do all the "hands-on" stuff that the EMT class requires. For that, I'll miss our first wedding anniversary weekend. And I say weekend instead of just anniversary, because we won't actually have a DAY to celebrate for three more years. Gotta love Leap Day!
OK, so lots of stuff has happened in the last few months, and I'm really excited to be able to catch up on here now that I have my free time back. I know, I know. . . seems like I had plenty of time for facebook but not the blog. That's because facebook requires NO THOUGHT whatsoever, and that's exactly what I've needed the past few months. Now, however, I will have some spare brain cells to give you some silly stories and tales from Spacewood Texas!
By the way, no pictures for now because my camera "disappeared" during The 3-Day. I was hoping someone would have turned it in, but it looks like that's not going to happen. Oh, well. Some lucky lady (or fella) has a whole lot of pictures of my husband re-building the deck, and a few shots of some crazy ladies in hot pink boas and a campsite full of pink tents!
It was one of the most fulfilling experiences I've ever had. We slept in tents, ate in a "mess hall" the likes of which I'd never seen, and laughed, sang, danced, and limped our way through the DFW Metroplex over the course of three days. It was amazing. I don't use that word lightly, either. I wish I had written more when it was fresh on my mind, but right now not much is fresh in my mind besides terrorism. It's what I studied tonight in my LAST CHAPTER of EMT training!
That's right, dear ones. I said my LAST CHAPTER. As in, I don't have any more homework for a while. As in, I get to have my life back on weeknights. As in, I won't be slamming the door in DZ's face when he tries to talk to me while I'm on the computer. . . well, I might do it on occasion, but it won't be because I'm trying to study in peace! I cannot tell you how excited I am about this. Next stop: Boot Camp, a 2-week intensive training session where we do all the "hands-on" stuff that the EMT class requires. For that, I'll miss our first wedding anniversary weekend. And I say weekend instead of just anniversary, because we won't actually have a DAY to celebrate for three more years. Gotta love Leap Day!
OK, so lots of stuff has happened in the last few months, and I'm really excited to be able to catch up on here now that I have my free time back. I know, I know. . . seems like I had plenty of time for facebook but not the blog. That's because facebook requires NO THOUGHT whatsoever, and that's exactly what I've needed the past few months. Now, however, I will have some spare brain cells to give you some silly stories and tales from Spacewood Texas!
By the way, no pictures for now because my camera "disappeared" during The 3-Day. I was hoping someone would have turned it in, but it looks like that's not going to happen. Oh, well. Some lucky lady (or fella) has a whole lot of pictures of my husband re-building the deck, and a few shots of some crazy ladies in hot pink boas and a campsite full of pink tents!
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