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Showing posts from April, 2010

Walking for N

This Saturday was one of @'s favorite days of the year, the annual March for Babies walk. He was six months old and still on oxygen the first time I did the walk, but he has been there every year since, making it his sixth walk and my seventh. In @'s world, the first few years were about the balloons and the noise, then it was about being a surviving preemie, and now it's about helping babies and walking for his twin brother. It's a tiring day for me, both physically and emotionally. It's a reminder of

Cat Herding, Doc Wrangling...

The first signs that maybe I had the wrong gastroenterologist were sitting in the waiting room when I arrived for my first appointment. The magazines. High-end car, travel, food, and wine magazines. As far as I'm concerned, one of the primary reasons for the existence of magazines like People , Entertainment Weekly , Us , etc., is to entertain patients who are patiently waiting for their doctors. Especially doctors who set their watches according to

Conflicting Philosophies

Zeek: Damien, I'm sure you're a nice guy, but you left your sock in my house and you took my grand-daughter's innocence. Here's your sock. *** *** *** Damien: Sir, I just want to let you know that I consider myself a student of philosophy. Live and let live. I mean no harm to anyone. Zeek: I am an irrational hardass with rage issues. Don't piss me off. *** *** *** Being a word geek, I appreciate good writing when I actually do sit still and watch TV. A pretty new show called Parenthood has some good writers...

Instinct & the Intersection of Teachable and Moment

How to Explain Instinct to a Six-Year-Old Me: If you saw a doughnut running across the yard, you would try to catch it and eat it, right? @: Doughnuts don't run, mommy. Me: But if doughnuts could run and you saw one in Barbara's yard? @: I'd catch it and eat it! But mommy, you're still goofy. Why to Explain Instinct to a Six-Year-Old This morning, Luke followed his oh-so-doggy instinct and caught a squirrel. It was a baby squirrel. Probably a preteen in the world of squirrel years. Luke had chased the mama squirrel and lost. He turned around to find himself staring at the baby squirrel. The chase was short and fruitful. See squirrel. See squirrel run. Chase squirrel. Catch squirrel. Wait! What? I caught it? I've never caught anything. What do I doooooo? Uh oh, they're coming toward me. They look concerned. She's yelling "house!" Drop the squirrel! OK, I'm going into the house. You don't have to ask me twice! What just happened? I actually c

The Wisdom of Six-Year-Olds

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I heard an amazingly beautiful story today. I'll do my best to retell it here. A grandmother was tucking her six-year-old grandson into bed. The little boy, whose father had committed suicide a year prior, asked her what death felt like. Caught off guard, she first responded, "It probably doesn't feel like anything." Then she explained that if you have a strong spirit,like his daddy did, she believed your spirit continued on and took another form. The little boy thought for a moment. "I think my dad's spirit is an apple tree. He had a really healthy body and he liked apples," he said. "But his mind wasn't healthy." "I hope he's an apple tree and he can see the sky and feel the fresh air on his branches." Gulp. Yeah, it brought tears to my eyes. Still does. @ asked me yesterday what "represent" means. We talked about it and I used my hawk tattoo as an example, saying that for me it represents N, his twin. We talked ab

The ER and Wizard of Wonderland

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I went to check out Alice in Wonderland and... ended up a test subject for The Wizard of Oz . After making it about 20 minutes into the movie, I started feeling relatively horrid, went home, and my fantabulous neighbor took me to the hospital. It is a bit amusing to go to the ER on April Fools' Day with your due-to-give-birth-in-two-days friend and identify yourself as the patient. But we have good news! A CAT scan proved I have a brain An EKG proved I have a heart Morphine subbed in for the field of poppies... No answers -- ok, except that I can and I still feel icky, but I'm home chillin' on the couch. Oh, and despite the morphine, there were no flying monkeys.