helpless...

disclaimer: this post may not be for anyone with a weak stomach... it's not graphic, but still.

for the second week in a row I had to call in to work (on a FRIDAY!!) because Goose was/is sick... last week she started with a low fever, which turned into a higher fever (lingered between 102-103 degrees) refusal to eat anything, and two episodes of vomiting on Thursday night. Friday we went to the doctor, she tested negative for strep, was diagnosed with a stomach bug & prescribed rest & hydration... by Friday night her fever had broken and she was running around like normal on Saturday...

yesterday was Hubs' day off so he picked Goose up from daycare, ran an errand & arrived home shortly after me... that was about 24 hours ago... not even 10 minutes after they had arrived home she got sick while coloring (we lost a book from a friend & a photobook I made of her first year in that incident).... and while she's been sipping water & milk (her choice - ick! I hate milk when it comes back up all curdled - eww eww eww.) and even managed to get a few crackers down... but nothing stays down for long... and the process (of vomiting) terrifies her... she looks at me with her eyes all wide and scared, and then after she cries like her heart is broken... I HATE feeling helpless... I wish I could take her in to be checked out and have them magically give her something to help, but I know (from last week and others' recent experiences) that there really isn't anything they can do - other than give her IV fluids if she becomes dehydrated... which I'm doing my best to prevent... but I just can't stand doing nothing.... 24 hours of my Goose being miserable, vomiting, a few diarrhea diapers... ugh. it sucks. thankfully this time there's no fever, but it doesn't make me feel any less helpless... *sigh* hoping & praying she gets over this quickly... we need a shower... or three.

It's Sunday Funday!

Didn't get in enough partying blog reading this weekend? Not quite ready to hang up your party pants? Then check out my friend Carri's first ever Sunday Funday over at Adventures in Mommyhood! Carri is crazy hilarious and one of my all time favorite people to read and tweet with. 

We're all linking up our favorite posts of the week, so grab the button from her site and join the linky party! Don't want to link up? That's cool! You still get the opportunity to check out some really cool, funny, and talented writers.
So grab your mimosa or your bloody Mary, and get to reading!

SOC Sunday: I count to three...

This is my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post hosted by all.things.fadra. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

INTRO: this may be quite a jumbled post as I have a toddler clinging to my arm - although she really wants to hold my hand... we'll see how it goes... timer... ready... and... GO!

"one"... "two"... my voice is low & stern... and sometimes I don't even get to "two" before Goose decides she's going to comply with my (unreasonable?) demands... "Goose, please pick your crayons up off the floor and put them back on the table" or "Goose, stop jumping on the couch!" and I always follow it up with a "thank you Goose! good listening!" but really... I can't help but think of what my dad always says when my sister or I (or my mom) "counts"... "why are you counting?? you're just giving them time to think about whether or not to obey the rules" and while I somewhat think he has a point (I mean, yeah, does have a point, I shouldn't have to ask her to do something eleventy billion times before she actually does it) but also - she's two... she's easily distracted, she's more into playing and having fun than picking up her toys, crayons, or worrying about her own safety... so I guess I see the counting as more of a way to get her attention than giving her a chance to decide if she's going to do as I've asked or not.... 

do you count??

like it was yesterday...

I sit here today, on March 11th, 2011 and think back to what I was doing 10 years right now... at this exact time I was either at work, or headed there shortly... having just finished my sister's birthday party, as she would be leaving to go back to college almost an hour and a half away in a few short hours... the whole family was over just hanging out... I remember hanging out in her room, my cousin AD and I... laying on our bellies looking at a yearbook, just talking. Talking about how things were going for him at school his sophomore year... how he & his girlfriend had broken up a week earlier, but he thought that they were getting back together, maybe even that night... we talked (again) about how I was going to pay the additional fee to get his license plate personalized, just as soon as he decided what he wanted it to say... we talked, as we had many times before, of the tattoo I was going to buy him for his 18th birthday... just a year and a half away... we hung out, had fun, I hugged him tight as he left that afternoon... I remember thinking how my cute little cousin had grown... he had grown into a charming, handsome, respectful, wonderful, funny young man... and wondering how it happened so fast...

I remember later that night... somewhere around 10:30ish when I got out of work, thinking "hey, maybe I'll swing over and hang out with AD before heading home" and then dismissing the idea in favor of a little extra time at my boyfriend (now hub's) house with him... I remember it being close to midnight, knowing that I was going to be late for my midnight curfew and calling to tell my parents without getting an answer... I remember being confused, wondering where in the world they would be near midnight on a Sunday... and then the chiming of my cell phone as it rang, my dad on the other end, telling me that he & my mom were on their way to the hospital, because AD had been in an accident... my dad asking if I wanted them to come get me... I was shaking, asking questions, getting little in the way of answers... "who was with him? was he alone? what happened?" ... my phone rang again a few minutes later, my mom - asking for bf/Hubs... telling him they were already half-way there, could he bring me over instead?

I don't remember how, but my sister's best friend ended up riding over with us...or maybe she didn't... that's fuzzy to me... Hubs driving, L in the backseat?, me curled up & rocking in the passenger seat... crying. praying. Hubs telling me that AD was going to be fine... everything was going to be fine. We entered through the ER doors, and were directed to registration... I was half-running, blindly, terrified. At the registration desk we found my dad, with my aunt - she jumped up to hug me crying, shaking her head as I asked "where is he?" and hearing "he isn't here yet" I was stunned - "what do you mean he's not here yet? where WAS he?" and my dad... pulling me away, out of the registration area, toward the main entrance, as he hugged me and said "he didn't make it Rus" in my head I hear these words again... I hear the echoes of my screams of "no! no daddy! no!" I hear him telling Hubs "get her out of here!" he didn't want my aunt to hear me... standing outside in the cold were my mom, and her other sister - they were trying to reach my cousin, who attended the same college as my sister... K is three years older, and they thought it would be best if my sister heard the news in person... K & his girlfriend were already making plans to head over to get/tell my sister, then head for the hospital... on our way out, we passed my cousin AJ and his girlfriend's father - AD's big brother... he didn't know yet... I can only imagine what seeing us must have been like for him... terrifying possibly.

I remember the rest of the hospital time-period, hanging out in a waiting room, surrounded by family, even my dad's family came to sit with us as we waited for his body to arrive... finally being allowed in to see him, how pale and still he was - this 16 year old athlete, so full of life, love, laughter... still. cold. even through the devastation there were a few smiles - as AJ squeezed AD's arm and the reflex made his hand squeeze my sister's... she about shit herself... the smiles were few & far between over the next few days, and the tears many, but the stories we told... the stories people told at his memorial service - which had to be held in the high school gymnasium to fit all those attending... all of us cousins, and some aunts and uncles, wore jeans with Metal Band Tshirts... it was what he would have wanted... we watched VHS tapes of him playing his bass guitar to "Eye of The Tiger" during the visitations, and a slideshow of photos at the service...


his headstone carries his last school photo... that sophomore year... the graphics etched in the stone include a guitar, basketball, football, track shoes... the inscription, "son, brother, friend"... it was 10 years ago today that we lost one of the most special people to have ever walked the earth... the most beloved in our family, maybe even his school... he was just that special... he was four years younger than I, but he was my best friend... and the ache in my heart today, doesn't feel ten years old... it doesn't feel like it was ten years ago that my heart broke... it feels like it was yesterday.

loving and missing you so much today, as always AD. Rock In Peace.
~ADH 11.12.1984-3.11.2001~

SOC Sunday: one or three??

This is my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post hosted by all.things.fadra. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

INTRO: This brain dump is brought on by a connversation Hubs and I have repeatedly had over the past several years... and again just this past week... timer... ready... and... GO!

I am one of two children, my sister is 19mos younger than I am, and for the most part, it was an awesome way to grow up. We had our fights and jealousies at times, but we've always been super close, and we're best friends. Hubs is the youngest (and only boy) of three... he & his sisters aren't super close, but Hubs is kinda antisocial and a homebody, so that's partly to blame I think ;) All growing up I've always wanted two kids. I didn't want an only child, because I loved having a sibling, but I didn't want three, as I thought one would always be left out... so I'd decided long ago, two kids was it. Well, Hubs has always said "one, or three" and I still don't get his logic... I mean, his logic for wanting three (excuse his cynical morbid cop-brain) is that if something were to happen to one of them, they wouldn't be left alone... okay, I guess I can see where that would be "logical" if you think like that (I don't generally, and I've had a LOT of tragic way-too-early deaths in my family) but then where does that leave us if we were to have one child? if something happens to that ONE child - then what are we left with?? and why would anyone want that?? (*not why would someone want just one child, why one child when you think like Hubs does...)

wow. time went faster than my fingers...

Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Who Do You Choose?

This is my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post hosted by all.things.fadra. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

INTRO: This brain dump is brought on by a blog I recently came upon written by a woman who lost her sister & brother in law in a car accident, with their 6wk old infant being the only survivor... she, and her husband, are now raising their niece, along with their two children... also contributing - the movie Life As We Know It which I watched twice on Friday night... these things have been swirling through my head, time to dump them out, and see if I've learned anything I guess... timer... ready... and... GO!

so we haven't drawn up a will or anything... when Goose was new still we started a Living Trust - but then we got to some of the tough questions, like "who will raise your child if you both die" type questions, and that's when we stopped... Goose just turned two, and we haven't finished the LT... which freaks me out a bit. I don't want to be morbid or anything, but honestly - car accidents, shootings, freak accidents... they happen every day... plus, Hubs is a cop. I mean, c'mon... he puts his life on the line every single day - for real. the chances of something happening to both of us are slimmer, but still there... I know who I want to raise Goose if that ever happens, but we don't have it in writing... and we should. Not only for Goose's protection, but for the peace of mind it will give us... I don't want the courts to get her, not for one single second... I want her with those who love her best, aside from us of course... time to just do it. stop stalling,

Stream of Consciousness Sunday: Guilty

This is my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post hosted by all.things.fadra. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

Guilty. that's how I'm feeling right now. for several different reasons. earlier I had a few brief moments of jealousy for people who aren't wives and mothers. people who can actually be selfish, put themselves first, do what THEY want to do, instead of what their spouse or children need/want of them. I know that this happens to lots of people, and it only lasted for a few moments, but the guilt part? this jealousy thing - was brought on by a teeny-bopper kids show on Disney that caught my attention... and Goose - she wanted to watch Dora. seriously? SERIOUSLY? I'm throwing a hissy fit over a DISNEY show? ugh. what in the world have I become. but the guilt actually then got worse. because a few minutes later as I rocked my Goose to sleep for her nap, I started thinking about all of my friends, family, and so many acquaintances who would kill to be in my shoes. I thought of my sister, who just before Christmas miscarried her second child...

*holy crap that went by fast.

a mother's worst fear...

This is my 5 minute Stream of Consciousness Sunday post hosted by all.things.fadra. It’s five minutes of your time and a brain dump. Want to try it? Here are the rules…

• Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
• Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
• Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
• Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
• Link up your post below.
• Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.

I'm apologizing in advance for yet another depressing post... wow three in a row, that must be a record for me... I suck.

I found out this morning that a friend and former co-worker of my sister is currently at the hospital with her teenage son who was in a car accident last night... a very, very, bad car accident. He was with 4 other teenagers, and the vehicle hit a tree at 120mph. The driver was drunk and has been arrested, but apparently walked away without serious injuries... the passenger was also released from the hospital today... the other two teenagers in the backseat with the friend's son were killed, and the friend's son? was ejected from the car and thrown 30 feet. he's currently on life support. the doctor's say he has no brain activity and he's messed up pretty bad... he's a senior in high school... and his mom may soon have to make the decision to take him off life support... it's a double hit of a mother's worst fear... not only the loss of a child, but having to decide not to continue the life-saving machines that are keeping him alive...

my heart absolutely breaks for her... my prayers are with her and their family, and I'm wishing for a miracle for them. God provides miracles every day, so I'm not giving up hope yet. He will do as He sees fit, and I'm praying that He surrounds the family with His love in this difficult, heartbreaking time.

sometimes I can't stop them...

the fears... and the tears... yesterday I blogged about how the fear gets me from the perspective of the "cop's wife" part of me... this post was brought on by the recent fatalities of Law Enforcement Officers - LEO's - all over the country... 11 (or was it 13?) in just 24 hours? 15 fatalities of LEO's already this year? You can read that post if you'd like HERE. and then last night? I had a dream... I only remember parts of it... but they are the worst parts... the parts I remember... the parts that bring the fear to the surface...

in this dream I'm not getting "the call" or a visit from other officers telling me that hubs isn't coming home... instead we're at the funeral service, and I'm standing in front of Hubs' casket, holding Goose, who is trying to get out of my arms to snuggle with Papa... Papa who will soon be buried and physically gone... she wants her Papa, wants him to tickle her, pretend to be sleeping only to growl and munch on her little cheeks and under her chin, but he can't... and he never will again. She struggles to reach him, to tickle him, to give him hugs and kisses, but I can't let her... it breaks my heart.


we're home alone... just us two... she's asking me "where Papa go? where Papa go Momma? Papa wook?" and I can't answer... my stomach is in knots... the lump is in my throat... and I don't know what to say... how do I tell her that Papa is gone... she's only 2... how do it I do it... I hold her as I cry... she's so confused... she can't understand... I can't understand...

and then her cries wake me... Hubs is sleeping next to me, the dog is curled up at my feet... I quickly go down the stairs to snuggle my Goose into my arms... and then back upstairs we go, snuggling her into our bed between Papa & Momma... I snuggle her close and drift back off into a dreamless sleep...

most nights I don't dream, or don't remember that I have... but sometimes they come, and they cause me such sadness and pain, so much that it's hard to remember that it is just a dream... and I can't stop them...