Workin’ it, but not in a good way.

I’ve been “workin’ it” a lot at my desk, that is. Good because it equals extra money for me. I’ve got a lot of freelance design coming at me lately and it occupies my nights after I spend time with my husband and daughter. Not good because I already sit at a desk all day long for my full-time job. All this sitting has devastated my motivation. Even when it’s time for my lunch break, I still seem to remain mesmerized by a computer screen rather than getting the hell out of the office and into some fresh air and non-florescent light. (Damn you, FaceBook!)

I went to the gym today so I could weigh myself. (Don’t worry, I worked out too.) I am down 1/2 pound since last week – 153 lbs. That’s pretty decent since it’s the first time I’ve been to the gym since last Wednesday’s weigh-in. Shameful. I guess I must have done a good deal of walking over the weekend when I took my daughter to the beach. That makes 8 more ounces of food that I can add to my food bank contribution.

It’s not that I don’t have the time to workout. I definitely do. I just don’t TAKE the time and it seems to be a more and more persistent habit with me lately thanks to the upswing in my life as a designer. I do not like it that I am letting my fitness goals become the lowest priority. Every week I profess to change this, yet every week here I am. Maintaining. “Just do it!”, you might say. Yes, I agree that’s the best attitude to have. In my head I’m all about it. In real life, not so much.

I won’t ever give up though. That’s why I like this Sisterhood stuff. If it weren’t for you guys I probably would have skipped the gym today. Three cheers for peer pressure! The good kind.

Fear

I’ve always had some trouble with stairs. I don’t really know why, but I just don’t feel comfortable unless I can watch my feet hitting each step. If I can’t, I tend to over think my movements and often I end up stumbling a little. I’ve never taken a bad fall, but it’s always on my mind. Especially on the steps in my house. They are steep and hard – all wood and kind of slippery.

One of my biggest fears, when KC was just a baby, was that that Ted or I would be carrying her down those stairs and we would trip and fall. Both Ted and I have slipped and fallen about halfway down by ourselves. Nothing like that ever happened with our fragile little girl, but it was on my mind a lot. If the two of us were up in the office with her and Ted carried her down the stairs without me, I’d have “a moment”. I’d sit in my chair, frozen and not breathing, palms starting to sweat a little. I’d hold that pose for a few seconds until I knew they were both down safe and sound.

Behold. The slippery stairs of death.

I know this may sound kind of silly, but if you’ve ever been to my house and gone up and down those stairs you probably understand. Plus, let’s face it, as a brand new parent it doesn’t take much to make you feel paranoid about hurting your new, fragile “package”. A lot of parents make “mountains out of mole hills” in those first few months thanks to the intense pressure created when you are thrust rather abruptly into the role as guardian of something so small and (seemingly) breakable.

Ever seen a dude hold a baby for the first time? I still hold other people’s babies like that.

Months passed and KC learned to crawl, then walk. Those stairs remained closed to her for quite some time. I didn’t have the stomach to let her scale them even when she began to get more confident on her feet. Finally, about 4 or 5 months ago (give or take) we started letting her go up by herself. Going down has been carefully watched and I encourage the “on your bum” method as much as possible. She’s incredibly agile so I have started to get a little complacent. I don’t run to her every time she tries to climb the slide out back, or when she takes the less scary steps in front of our house. She’s proven time and time again she can handle it.

Then on Saturday my fear of the stairs inside was realized if only for a few moments. Let me stop here and just say SHE IS FINE. Because I know what you are thinking right now. Yes, she did fall down the stairs. She fell from about halfway up, although I cannot say for sure because I was not watching. I was not watching. Stupid. She’s gotten so good at going up and down that I let her go by herself while I tried to finish up something on my computer. She grabbed a couple of small toys and said “Downstairs now”. I said “Go ahead.”, reminded her of the “bum method” and went about my business.

Even in the back of my mind the voice of reason hinted that with toys in hand the journey could be dangerous. I heard the toys hit and bounce a few times. For a split second I prayed that she just dropped them, but then I heard her cry. That’s when I realized I had also heard a series of soft thuds alongside those little plastic toys.

Fear always seems to hit you in the torso doesn’t it? It’s like your heart and stomach come to attention at the exact same time.

The good thing is she cried immediately. It would have been worse if she didn’t make a sound. I ran down, scooped her up and carefully sat her on the couch to inspect her for injury. A few red areas where she hit hands and knees, not even a bad bump on the head. She was ok. She cried, but also asked to see a book that was sitting nearby. It took less than one minute for her to calm down and start playing again. It took a little longer for my heart to stop racing. I honestly felt like I was going to puke for about an hour or so.

I gathered our things together and we got in the car as planned to drive the three hours to GG and Gramps house near the beach. We had a wonderful weekend together. Just us girls playing on the playground in Bethany and wading in the ocean waves. I love her so much. Just like any parent, I have that dark worry in the back of my mind at all times. Something could happen to her. Something really bad. I think often about kids who are really sick and spend so much time in hospitals. How do those parents survive that constant fear? I think about parents who have suffered the unimaginable loss of a child by illness or accident. Then there is the possibility of kidnapping and abuse. It’s enough to make you hide your kid inside forever.

My own parents have endured the loss of my brother, Scott, due to suicide. That’s a really tough one to mention here because I know my Mom will read this and I HATE the idea that I’ll surprise her with unexpected feelings of sadness. However, it plays a big role in my own fears if I’m being honest. Experiencing that kind of tragedy opens a bad portal where fear of the unexpected can flow in easier than before. It lives with you from that point on. Quietly sitting in the periphery like a dark shadow. Not always interfering, but definitely always there. Making sure you don’t forget that life can change in an instant and you’ll never see it coming. If I don’t acknowledge the loss of my brother when speaking of this, it’s the elephant in the room.

Since it was my loss too, I have a pretty good idea of how bad it really is for my Mom and Dad that they lost their son, one of their babies. It doesn’t matter if the child is 3 months or almost 30 years old. He’s still your baby. Anyone, parent or not, can wrap their brain around that one and feel sympathy. However, it’s not until you actually become a parent that you can empathize to a degree. Even if you haven’t lost your own child. After just two short years, the love I feel for KC is so strong that the thought of anything happening to her is unimaginable. It has added a decidedly different emotion to the many that I already feel regarding the loss of my brother. It gives a much more clear understanding of how that loss affects my parents every single day.

This post has gone longer and in a much different direction than I intended. I don’t want to end on a sad note, but it’s hard not to feel a little sad when contemplating these things. I guess the trick is (and so far I think I’m doing ok at it) that you have to remember that you cannot control everything that happens in this world and you have to try and accept that. It’s a chaotic and (let’s be honest) fucked-up place a lot of the time. It’s also a beautiful place. Even with all the loss and the pain we endure. There is so much beauty all around if you look for it. I see it especially in the people who take those horrible hits, get back up again and keep on living themselves.

Life is too short. Life is scary and, for some people, much harder than seems fair. Life pretty much sucks, but it is also a real gift. I don’t want fear to stand in the way of enjoying my own life. I especially don’t want my fear to stand in the way of letting KC have lots of good moments for herself. Even if those moments happen far from me, where I cannot hold her hand as she goes down the stairs*.

—–

*Of course if those “stairs” involve a career as the first female to perform stunts more death-defying than Evel Knievel,  you might just see me running behind her with a giant foam mattress screaming about helmets and knee pads.  I’m a pretty big supporter of letting people (kids included) choose their own path, but I am a Mother after all.

Motivational Rule #1: It’s all about the playlist.

I skipped out on reporting my status for the “Lose for Good” challenge with the Sisterhood last week. I didn’t work out and I didn’t blog. The truth is, I’m failing pretty badly in the exercise category these days. That 5 mile race I’m signed up to do this Sunday? I’m totally going to BAIL. My body is just not up to running that many miles. I could totally walk it, but I don’t want to. There will be other races.

The good news is I am down since I first weighed-in to join this challenge. I started at 153.5 and I’m currently at 152. That means 24 oz of food toward my “stash” for a local food bank at the end of the challenge. Not too shabby. I’ve been in a pretty big rut for the past couple of months, but I intend to steer myself out of it. It seems that (hopefully) I’m already starting to.

I went to the gym today and yesterday. Walking for 5 minutes to warm up and then running for about 20 minutes on the treadmill is my typical workout of choice. Some days it’s harder than others and I resign to walking more than I wanted to. Some days, like today, it feels pretty good. A very big part of this happens to be my iPod. Yesterday my iPod was dead and I opted to watch TV. I only felt like walking. Of course, that could have been because I hadn’t worked out in quite a while. I doubt it though. Today the iPod was all charged up and so was I.

Music really moves me when I’m running, but not just any music. It has to be fast-paced. Hip-hop or rap are great. Heavy metal is also perfect and the more aggressive songs are particularly good. The band Disturbed makes some really kick-ass workout music. If you are skeptical just try downloading the song “Meaning of Life”. It’s one of my favorites. (Beware of the fact that it is a tad explicit.) If you’re not a metal fan I recommend something like J.Lo’s “Doing It Well” or “Pump It” by the Black Eyed Peas. (What can I say. My music taste is all over the place.) This kind of musical motivation keeps me moving more steadily than focusing on a TV show. It allows me to lose myself to the point where time flies faster.

Speaking of time flying, I can’t believe we are halfway through September. Where did the summer go? The weather outside is amazing these days. I did NOT, as I suggested in my last challenge post, get out there and “breathe it in” via running/walking. Maybe I’ll get out on the trail, maybe I won’t. As long as I can get myself to the gym on a regular basis that’s good enough for me right now.

Twice As Much

Dear KC,
Today you are two years old. I love you twice as much today as I did when you were born. I am certain that each year I will love you more and more. You are amazing. It’s true how they say that babies grow up fast. Until you become a parent and watch it happen for yourself that is just another cliché saying. Lately you are changing almost daily. No lie. You are talking so much, growing so big (over an inch in the past month!) and you are developing more and more of a big kid’s personality – a little attitude, a few quirks and a lot of love and silliness to share with us all. It’s truly a blessing and a pleasure for your dad and I (as well as your grandparents) to see it happening every day.

I remember very clearly holding you in the hospital after you were born. So tiny and light, so soft and sweet. You are still soft and sweet, but whoo-boy! Not so light anymore! You get harder to carry around, but I still love to pick you up and feel your little arms around my neck, or your head resting on my shoulder. I am so grateful that you are still in a place where you crave a lot of “Mama Love” each day. I cherish those moments when you need to be close to me. The moments when no one else will do. I know that there will come a day when you are much too mature and independent to cuddle with your Mom when you need comfort. I promise I’ll try to be cool about that when the time comes.

Tonight we will celebrate one more time with some cake and ice cream. We’ve got plenty left over from your party on Saturday! You are such a lucky girl, KC. I hope that we can give you material things while still teaching you the value of being grateful for what you have. So many other kids go without lots of toys and food. Too many even live without a lot of love and attention. As a parent and a human being, that is heartbreaking every time I see it. I was a very lucky little girl growing up. Your Dad was very lucky too. We are still lucky because we can give you the love, support, and (ok, I admit it) the presents you deserve. It’s awfully hard not to spoil a child you love so much. I’m going to have to keep a leash on your Dad though. He likes Toys-R-Us a little too much for a guy his age. You two are bound to have some fun together. I’ll be the one shaking her head in the background because “that’s too expensive!” or “isn’t that dangerous?”

I could go on and on, but I’ll wrap things up. You are twice as much fun, twice as smart, twice as beautiful and twice as much of a blessing as you were 2 years ago today. And that’s saying a lot because you were a DAMN good baby! Happy Birthday, sweet little girl.

All My Love,
Mommy

Awesome tea set courtesy of KC’s Aunt and Uncle. Fabulous gift choice guys! She adores it!

*****

By the way, the party was a total success. No mishaps at all this year. The food platters and the cake were perfect. Gotta love paying someone else to make it! (Hey, what can I say? I know my strengths.) Daddy even spent 3 hours last night (after working all day at an expo) putting together a play kitchen from G & G Doran so that KC could play with it right away. THAT, my friends, is love. Special thanks to my Mom and Dad for all the driving you did and the extra hotel visit you endured just to be there with us. Thanks actually to everyone who came and celebrated with us. KC made out like a bandit with the “Birthday Booty”. She is indeed very lucky. As are we.

Let’s hear it for the boy!

My husband rocks. He got the playhouse put together in two evenings and even got to put the clear coat on it just like the brochure said he should do. He also (finally) finished two wooden chairs for our kitchen table that came a few weeks ago that we desperately need for the party tomorrow. He is the man. KC’s new playhouse is AWESOME. And here I was saying how it was going to be the thing that went awry because of Murphy’s Law and fate and yada-yada-yada.

We are totally ready for the party tomorrow. I spent all day cleaning and shopping. I just have to pick up the sandwich platters and the “Finding Nemo” themed cake that GIANT FOOD IS MAKING. NOT ME. Oh. Crap. That’s going to be the thing that goes wrong isn’t it? They are going to forget about our order. Or maybe the cake will say “Happy Retirement Bob!” Actually, that would be kind of funny. Just the thing Ted and I would get a kick out of.

Hell, even if they do screw up my party platters it won’t be the end of the world. I’ll just buy some deli meat and toss it all together. The way the food looks doesn’t matter because, SERIOUSLY YOU GUYS. LOOK AT THE AWESOME PLAYHOUSE.

It has a mailbox. Which KC immediately put dirt and rocks in. Duh.

This thing is tall enough that I can stand upright in there. I can't do anything else, but still.

He’s a good Dad. KC and I have decided to keep him.

Countdown to the Big T-W-O

KC officially turns two on Monday, Sept. 14, but we are celebrating with friends and family this coming Saturday. This week begins my list-writing and hand-wringing over whether we will have what we need and whether we will be able to fit everyone inside our house if the weather is bad. I’ve counted up almost 30 people including small children and babies. It’s pretty imperative that we can utilize the patio out back. The forecast says it will be warm and sunny but that could totally change by the weekend.

It’s really hard not to over-invite people to something like this. We could keep it to just family, but that would be too simple. Inevitably we start with the “We should also include so-and-so…and if we invite so-and-so then we should ask this person too…” Then there’s the impromptu verbal invites of neighbors at the last minute. Especially those with kids who we want to be friendlier with. I’m a little worried, but even if it’s crowded, it should still be fun.

Note to self: GET LOTS OF BEER & WINE. Open the garage to the guys who hate these types of parties, but come anyway because they are really good friends. And, for the love of God, don’t forget favors that the kids can actually play with. NOT candy. There’s enough crack sugar in cake as it is.

One thing that I’m very happy about is the fact that GG and Gramps (my mom and dad) will be there this time. They leave Minnesota today as a matter of fact. Initially, they planned to stay up there into October, but unusually cold weather (even for northern MN) and other issues made them decide to start home early. They missed her 1st Birthday party last year and I was starting to feel guilty about planning her 2nd before they got back again this year. The truth is, they are far too awesome to actually be upset about stuff like that. This laid-back quality is one of the many things I love about my parents. If they hadn’t been able to get back, KC and I would have traveled to the beach as soon as they came home and celebrated a 2nd time just like we did last year.

Back to the planning of this shin-dig. You’ll be happy to know that I won’t be attempting to make a cake again this year and neither will “F***ing Betty Crocker”. HE firmly stated that trying was not worth the trouble and potential for disaster. Maybe you are disappointed that there won’t be a story about how I screwed up another cake. Don’t worry, I’m bound to mess up something else. Or, perhaps this year it will be Ted who has a party-related mishap. We did just receive KC’s present, a wooden playhouse that has to be put together. From the look of it, there are a lot of parts and some notes in the fine print about how you should put some kind of weather-proof clear coat on it every couple of years. Awesome. Ted is very handy so it’s sure to be fine. Then again…the ordering of it went smoothly and the price was amazing, so you just KNOW there is bound to be something about this house that is going to SUCK. I hope I’m mistaken about that. We shall see…stay tuned.

Is that can of peas in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?

I’m supposed to be running 5 miles on September 20th (Navy 5 Miler) and I’m not ready at all. I’ve been pretty unmotivated for the past few weeks. I managed to hit the treadmill at the gym Tuesday and it hurt a little bit. Ok, a lot. The thing with running is that you have to keep doing it regularly. Otherwise you lose ground quickly. It’s my goal to push myself the next couple of weeks so I don’t – A: Suffer Through It or B: Bail Completely. Maybe I should hire someone to chase me. Is that in the job description of a personal trainer? Maybe it should be.

I am still utilizing the great community at The Sisterhood of the Shrinking Jeans. A new challenge called “Lose For Good” just began that is really pretty cool. For every bit we lose, we purchase non-perishable foods equaling that amount (a pound = 16 oz). We collect them and at the end of the challenge we bring them to our local food bank. Nice motivation! Not to mention the impact of feeling a heavy can of veggies in your hand and realizing you just dropped that same amount of weight off your body. Of course in my case I should be buying bags of cookies and cans of beer, but I’m guessing the food bank frowns on those items.

The challenge kicked off yesterday and I did NOT workout! I have excuses as to why, but I won’t bore you with them. I’ll just promise myself that I WILL exercise today and do the best I can each day after that. I am busy lately with work. Especially my freelance work. It’s easy to skip exercise when you think you are too busy. The truth is, exercise = less stress and more motivation. So being overworked and busy = needing a break even if you have to force yourself to take it.

The weather where I live has been IDEAL the past week for running (or walking) outside. The coming fall should ensure that it continues. If I can’t find a way to get out there and move, I am just an idiot. Are you like me? Is the weather nice where you are? If so, get out there and BREATHE IT IN ALREADY. You’ll be glad you did.

Playing Dirty

Ted fixed our back patio so the big concrete blocks along a low wall that encloses it are now mortared in place. You know, so they wouldn’t fall and hurt THE BABY. The baby who’s now almost 2. Sadly it was Mommy who was finally dumb enough to step on one wrong and knock it over so it hit her achilles tendon just right. Ouch. At least that got Daddy moving on the project. Ted did this work a few weeks ago and I just got around to uploading the pics. The resulting dirt mixed with rain made for a veritable child’s paradise of muddy puddles the following afternoon. Behold…

Who needs expensive paints?

You know that scene in Braveheart when William Wallace is charging the enemy all craaazy-like and they show him coming at you in slo-mo?

FREEEDOM!

Happier than a pig in…you know what.

Dear God, it’s good to be a kid. Remember?

Well, that explains a lot.

Almost exactly one year ago I wrote this post about going to the dentist. I never really followed up here on the blog. On that visit (and 3 more subsequent visits) I had an inlay and one filling done. It was an annoying process and took TWO separate molds to finally to get an inlay that seemed to fit. Seemed being the operative word here. I had a lot of uncomfortable sensitivity at the site upon returning home where I very innocently doused the tooth with ice water only to be brought to my knees. Even room temperature liquid makes my tooth sing. Using mouthwash this past year has been one of my least favorite activities.

I am a pretty understanding and laid back individual. I totally get that making a tiny inlay to fit my tooth so perfectly that no gaps result in the end must be quite a delicate process. I also get that it might not happen even with the dentist’s best efforts. Because of this I went with the flow. However, the whole time I was in the chair (4 separate times) I just had the feeling that the dentist and her assistant were…how should I put this? INCOMPETENT.

They hardly spoke to me at all the whole time. Which sucked big time since they had to dig and dig and re-do and re-do. You would think they might have talked me through it and assured me it was ok. “Just doing what needs to be done. Try to relax!” I mean, I can’t talk to them what with ALL THE TOOLS AND CEMENT in my mouth. To make it worse, it seemed to me that the assistant did most of the work which (I felt) the dentist should have at least been watching her do. The dentist kept going off to deal with other patients. BIG pet peeve of mine. I left the whole experience with a feeling that I got poor service. Like a dummy I just kept my mouth shut. (Or would that be “kept my mouth wide open”? Hey, nice pun!)

I put off going back right away which was also pretty dumb. (Typical “me” behavior.) I’ve kept up with my cleanings, however, and mentioned the sensitivity each time I’ve been back. The first time I got a different dentist/assistant combo. The assistant suggested maybe it was just normal sensitivity from receding gums. Um. No. Thanks for trying to put me off though. The dentist (a different one) was more receptive to my idea that the inlay was F’d up. She tried some varnish on the tooth (not to be confused with the sort you buy at Home Depot) and said I might just need it re-done in the end. She was correct. I went about my business for six more months and went and got a cleaning today.

Sidebar: You have no idea how many times Ted has looked at me with a roll of the eyes and a wagging finger to say “Get it fixed, Dumbass.” I get a distinct look of pain every time I accidentally let my drink flow to that side of my mouth. Which is a lot.

Today the REAL dentist, whom I recall from waaaay back, was in the office. I had no idea she was only gone temporarily. I simply thought the practice had changed hands or been taken over by spiteful dental students. Turns out she’d had a baby just before my bad teeth were discovered. She was just returning from taking the year off to be a new mom. The other dentists had been filling in for her. I was relieved when I explained my problem and she immediately said they would fix it at no cost. An x-ray had also clearly showed the inlay was faulty. Given my year long procrastination I thought this was pretty decent of them.

I almost didn’t go today. I almost put it off yet again to switch to Ted’s doc. I’m glad I gave them one last chance. This doc seems like a good one. It must have been tough for her to leave her practice in the hands of others for so long. Being a mom myself, I can relate to why she did it. I would have loved a 12 month maternity leave. I hope she didn’t lose any patients. She almost lost me. It’s a shame the office didn’t make it really to clear why she was not there. Before she came along it was a totally different guy and they sent a letter out when she took over. Of course, it’s an even bigger shame that I never voiced my concerns. I go back next week to start a whole new inlay process. I really hope this time it works. If not, I’m just going to tell them to pull the damn thing!

PS – I titled my original post “Hey, that’s my gum, asshole.” for good reason. I don’t care how healthy your gums are. When they take that metal pick and start scccrrrraaaappping along the edges…DAMN! That. Hurts. How could it not? And, Holy Hell, when did they start using a little electric tool to do it?? That thing looks and sounds exactly like a drill. Not. Cool. I’ve had the same guy for the past two visits now and he seems kind of like he enjoys it. Could be my imagination though. It probably is.

Howdy, Stranger.

I just got back last night from a four day trip to Minnesota. There was a memorial service for my Grandma Marge and I really wanted to be there. I am so glad I went. It was wonderful to see my family and nice to spend some time celebrating her life. My Grandma actually passed quite a few months ago, on Christmas Eve. The family decided it would be best and easiest if we had a service over the summer. That is when more of the immediate family are up in Northern, MN. Although I did get to spend a lot of quality time with everyone that I hoped to, it still felt like it was much too short.

On the flip-side, it felt like a really long time to be away from Ted and KC. Missing just a couple of days seeing my daughter is tough, but four full days seems like an eternity. It’s not usually me who goes away. Ted is the one who normally goes on business trips for up to a week and then comes home feeling like a bit of a stranger. KC changes so fast that you cannot help but miss some stuff.

These days she’s talking up a storm. Using entire phrases, starting to talk back to Dora and Diego and even attempting to sing along to the songs she hears every day on the Noggin channel. It’s truly amazing and sort of frightening. Frightening like some crazy sci-fi movie where there is an alien creature who pops out of the womb (or egg or whatever the hell…use your imagination) and then ages to a full-grown adult in like 24 hours.

Look, doctor. It’s adapting. Quickly. Much too quickly for our useless brains to comprehend. Hurry! We’ve got to run for the space ship and get out of here! Now! Forget about the others. There’s no time!

Ted rattled off all the fun things they did over the weekend and I felt a twinge of jealousy. It’s usually me with her alone if not BOTH of us. She’s a Mama’s girl these days too. She seems to prefer my lap at night and I can hear her asking for me on mornings when Ted gets her out of bed. It’s cool and secretly I love it. I feel a little bad for him though. I think that must feel bad for him when she makes such a fuss over me. I wouldn’t know from personal experience.

Coming back after such a long break felt strange. I didn’t even get to see her last night. I got in late and she was already asleep. In the middle of the night she woke. Ted went to her automatically, but I followed. She called for me when she discovered I was there, but just before that happened I hovered in the doorway. Hanging back a bit. Not sure what to do. I felt a little odd as always happens when I’m away and the two of them get to bond. I didn’t want to “intrude”. However, I think Ted was more than happy to toss her to me at almost 1 am. (Gee, thanks!) We went out to the living room and she promptly fell back asleep laying with me on the couch. She felt bigger than I remember. Is that weird?

This morning she woke a bit cranky and I overslept. (Yay!) I had to rush through the morning routine. No time to sit with her and watch the news while she sipped milk in my lap. I had to be a bit short with her to coax her into the car. To make it worse, she cried when I left her at Grandma’s house. She hardly ever does that anymore. I felt guilty that we had to rush our reunion and I cannot wait to get home and snuggle her to make up for it. Something tells me she’ll forgive me though. As a matter of fact, I imagine she got over my abrupt departure today pretty fast once I was out of sight. After all, she did just fine for four whole days without me. Sigh.

****

I would just like to say that my Grandma, Marjorie Hessen Gordon was the absolute model of what a Grandmother should be. She made our annual summer trips up north even better. In addition to the amazing house and cabin by the lake, she always had ice cream, cookies and every flavor of “pop” you can imagine right at our fingertips. There was never any question that we could glut ourselves on sugar up there with Grandma. She and her mom, my Great Grandmother Dagney Hessen, are most likely responsible for my current addiction to cookies. Damn, those ladies could bake. Among many other things of course. My biggest regret is that my Grandma (and my Grandpa for that matter) never got to know KC.