so tremendously overdue

So my last post was more than a year and a half ago. Shameful.
It is especially shameful considering the events of the last year and a half.
Let's just say it may have been one of the most eventful 20 months of my life -- some incredibly high highs and some pretty tough lows.
So I'll just give you the Cliff Notes version:
Sept. 12, 2009, Michael and his best bud Ray (who share a birthday) were celebrating with about 30 of our friends at our house. The party was super awesome complete with a giant jumpy water slide, drive-thru daiquiris and some awesome friends. I'd made Michael and Ray's favorite cakes complete with fancy candles as well as cupcakes. There was PLENTY of cake. After the boys blew out their candles Michael says, "There's not enough cake. I got another cake because I didn't think there would be enough."
I grumbily go inside because I'm kind of pissed off because there is more than enough cake. He calls me back outside and he walks toward me with a white sheet cake in his arms with the words, "Will you marry me" written in pink icing.
So sweet. I couldn't believe it and for some reason was convinced he was going to smash it into my face.
I said yes and squealed and cried.
It was so much fun as friends filtered in later that night -- I'd say, "Look at this cake" and they'd squeal like I had.
I'm a lucky girl.
So by that Monday I had a venue and wedding date picked. My in-laws thought I was insane, but we have discussed my planning proclivities.
Wedding planning and events came and went. It was great fun. I had a wonderful shower at Aunt Brenda's house put together by my friend Tia and new family in Louisiana. Dress shopping with David was interesting. I scoured the internet for deals, DIY techniques and other craziness to make this wedding happen.
I also got a second job at Walden Books and had the best time (and got some great deals.) Everyone got books or other items from the bookstore that year for the holidays. And it was fun. If I could make as much as I make in my "real job" at the bookstore, I'd totally do that full time.
The crazy planning for the wedding -- which was also a lot of fun -- came to a screeching halt just a few weeks before the wedding itself with a phone call.
I immediately knew something was up when my mom called and said, "Are you at work?" "No." "Is Michael there?" "Yes." "Your dad has cancer."
It didn't happen all that abruptly but it felt like that. It felt like I'd been shot. I lost it. I cried like a baby. I had no idea what to do. I'm crying now typing all this. Sigh.
Michael took the phone. He got the details. It didn't really matter. Details didn't change the facts.
We all knew dad wouldn't live forever. No one does. But my dad has struggled with illnesses before. He's been at the verge of some terrible stuff but always pushed through it. And although we are hopeful he will do it again -- HOPE -- is my motto now a days, it gets harder and harder to have that hope now.
So mom, dad and Sarah came as planned (well dad wasn't going to come until the weekend of the wedding but with the news and how he was feeling came early) a week before the wedding. It was wonderful to have everyone together. It had been forever since we'd all had time together as a family.
The wedding was perfect. It was a beautiful day on March 27, 2010. We were married outside of the Samuel Guy House in Natchitoches, La. The reception was there as well. We had a brunch with mimosas, an omelet and belgian waffle station, cheese grits, sausage and biscuits.
Everyone was there. We had an awesome photo booth with costumes, we had an amazing live band -- Fat Boys South -- and it was the best time with family and friends. We started the day around 5 a.m. (getting ready, photos, etc.) and didn't stop partying until as late as 3 a.m. It was perfect.
Time came and went. Michael and I honeymooned in New Orleans and had a great time.
Work was work. We both continued to slave away at the word factory. Until late June...
With dad being sick, well really for the past several years, I've wanted to get closer to home. Dad's illness just gave the desire some urgency.
I started a job in Anderson, Ind., as the government and business reporter on July 1, 2010. I moved by myself and after just a few months of marriage Michael and I went it alone. He stayed in Louisiana living with Ray at our old house (which Ray moved into) and I moved here by myself with the Van Gogh.
It was tough, for both of us. Lots of tearful phone calls, lots of emails, lots of texts. But we made it.
In September Michael joined me and worked as a freelance reporter for both The Town Talk in Louisiana (via his desk in Indiana) and for the paper I work for here. In October he was named the sports editor at The Chronicle Tribune in Marion. It is long hours and an hour commute one way so I know it is tough for him. But he's a trooper.
I have tried to take advantage of being close to home and go see mom and dad as often as possible. Dad has good days and bad. There have been several hospital stays, even a long stint in ICU and a surgery, but we revel in the good days.
On Nov. 13, we threw a surprise party for the coolest dad around. Our pretty awesome family came from near and far to celebrate the day with us as well as friends. It was an amazing day.
The following Monday was a pretty amazing day too. Michael and I decided, even though we hadn't even been married a year, that it was time to give Van a little brother or sister. Like the move, dad's illness hastened this desire. I can't imagine my child not getting to know, or at least meet, his grandfather who is one of the most amazing people around.
So that Monday -- Nov. 15 -- I thought perhaps maybe the baby making had "stuck" and drove to Walgreen's on a full bladder (because first thing in the morning is the best time to test) picked up some tests and then rushed to work. I took the test in the bathroom at work and it was positive. I took it again. It was still positive.
I went out to my car and called my mom in tears. I called Michael. Gulp. That was his reaction. It was followed by excitement.
And from that point on Poppy was a part of our lives. Poppy is the baby's name (unknown gender) for the time being as when we found out about the baby he or she was the size of a Poppy seed.
The baby is now the size of a large plum and I'm nearly 12 weeks along. It is all very exciting.
So ups, downs and in-betweens, it has been a heck of a year and a half.
That's all for now (I've done more than enough). I will try to be a better, more dedicated blogger!

terrible schedule... that I think I'm going to miss.

So this sumer I've been going through a hellacious schedule, terrible really. But honestly I think I may miss it, at least a little. I know Michael won't though. I'm sure I'm going to be MUCH less cranky. Here's a run-down:

Mondays and Wednesdays
6:55 a.m. Get up and get ready.
8 a.m. Make cop calls, check cop briefs in email, type up and post any urgent cops news.
8:35 a.m. Kiss a soundly sleeping Michael on the head to say goodbye and drive way too far out to LSUA.
9 a.m. Sit through a ridiculous Spanish class.
12:10 p.m. Race home for a super quick lunch or scarf down disgustingly good fast food or go straight to work.
12:45 p.m. Start work.
5:10 p.m. Leave work and drive way too far to England Airpark for English class.
8:30 p.m. Leave English class for home.
8:50 p.m. Scarf down dinner and play with puppy.
9:30 p.m. Start homework for next day's Spanish class, do homework for online Criminal Justice class.
12:45 a.m. Pass out on couch.
1 a.m. Get kiss on the forehead from Michael to send me to bed.

Tuesdays and Thursdays
6:55 a.m. Get up and get ready.
8 a.m. Make cop calls, check cop briefs in email, type up and post any urgent cops news.
8:35 a.m. Kiss a soundly sleeping Michael on the head to say goodbye and drive way too far out to LSUA.
9 a.m. Sit through a ridiculous Spanish class.
12:10 p.m. Race home for a super quick lunch or scarf down disgustingly good fast food or go straight to work.
12:45 p.m. Start work.
7 to 8 p.m. Leave work to go home (depends on the work load.)
8 p.m. Eat dinner, play with puppy. (on Thursday's Michael is off and joins me for the rest of my nightly routine, sometimes even doing some of my homework for me!)
8:30 p.m. Start homework for English, Spanish and Criminal Justice.
12:45 a.m. Pass out on couch.
1 a.m. Get kiss on the forehead from Michael to send me to bed.

Friday
6:45 a.m. Get up and get ready.
8 a.m. Kiss a soundly sleeping Michael on the head to say goodbye and start work day with cop calls and runs.
12 p.m. Come home for lunch and play with puppy. Kiss a soundly sleeping Michael on the forehead to wake him up.
7ish p.m. Leave work and come home to a happy Michael who has the day off.
7:30 p.m. Eat dinner and play with puppy and boy.
8 p.m. Start homework -- Criminal Justice (and if I'm feeling exceptionally proactive I'll throw in Spanish and English).


Saturday
8:30 a.m. Get up.
9 a.m. Eat breakfast, play with puppy.
9:30 a.m. Start homework -- Criminal Justice (and if I'm feeling exceptionally proactive I'll thrown in Spanish and English.
11 a.m. Get ready and eat lunch.
12 p.m. Kiss Michael on the forehead to say goodbye. Go to work.
8 p.m. Come home and finish up homework, eat dinner and play with puppy.
1 a.m. Michael gets home from work and hopefully doesn't have to wake me up (but often he did have to).

Sunday
10 a.m. Get up and watch trashy television I've DVRed while Michael snoozes.
1 p.m. Make Michael get up.
1:30 p.m. Go to Pit Grill for Sunday terribly greasy and delicious dinner.
4:30 p.m. Michael goes to work, and I get to work on my homework. (Seriously... there was something due in my Criminal Justice class EVERY day, even on July 4th!)
11 p.m. Hopefully get to bed.

I can't believe I did it. I can't believe I didn't kill anyone throughout this summer! And now I get three weeks off (after my English final tomorrow) until next semester when I take 12 hours. I wonder what that schedule is going to look like!

All you working moms, working students, two-job workers, etc. -- I don't know how you do it!

Happy living. I'm back to studying for my English final.

blessings

So I refuse to do this (unlike a certain former big-headed co-worker who likes to drop the F-bomb on a regular basis, OK, I'll just say it, ROB) on Facebook but feel like I can get away with doing it here. It is MY blog after all. And I really can do whatever I want, right? Are you wondering what it is? Are you sitting there hollering, "Tell us already! Come on, I can't take the suspense." Or is there no one reading this but Michael, and that's only because I made him and he really, really loves me? And Michael is used to me burying the lead. OK, now I'm being really mean and realizing that once I tell you what it is that I refuse to do on Facebook but plan to do on my blog will really be a super-duper let down. It will, but here goes anyway -- POST MY STORIES.

I'm such a nerd.

Anyway... here's the link and here's some behind the scenes: http://www.thetowntalk.com/article/20090719/NEWS01/907190303&referrer=FRONTPAGECAROUSEL

On Friday, I met an amazing little girl. I was bemoaning having to do this story -- about a no-name foundation building a deck around a pool gifted by a big-name foundation for a girl who was dying of cancer. I thought, "Oh, how uplifting. Sad, dying girl gets deck. That's going to be a great story."

Instead, when I show up I'm greeted at the door by a vibrant, smiling young girl wearing a hot pink shirt with green accents. Those are my two favorite colors but that wasn't the reason my poo-poo attitude about this story shot out the window. The girl who answered the door was as bald as a cue-ball but looked as healthy as any other 11-year-old girl. She got her mom who ushered us in as she frantically went around finishing getting ready. The little girl -- Christian -- plopped back down on the over-sized red sofa and continued shoveling down Ramen noodles and laughing with her BFF Grace about the current "Suite Life" episode on Disney. They were gushing about how in six hours, 54 minutes and 12 seconds the "big episode" was going to be on where it was Hannah Montana, the cast of Wizards of Waverly Place, the Suite Life and other teen dream sensations were all going to be on the same episode.

It was spooky. I had been told this girl had only weeks of "quality life" left and only months of actual life remaining yet she reminded me of any other tween I'd spent half of my teen years babysitting.

A few minutes later her mom joined us, harried rush past her and perfectly coiffed hair bouncing above her shoulders. She sat across me on the loveseat, Christian and I on the couch adjacent to it. Tia, the photographer started snapping pictures. Neither Christina (mom) or Christian were phased. With Christian less than an arm length away her mom started into her story.

In January 2008 she was diagnosed with neuroblastoma. The only symptom was a droopy eye. They were told they needed to get to St. Jude's Hospital as soon as possible and the family of five hopped in the car that night and drove to Memphis. There she went through eight rounds of chemotherapy, 15 days of radiation and surgery to remove a tumor from her adrenal gland -- 10 months of torture for the little girl and her family. They were told in September 2008 that she was cancer free; an answer to so many prayers the faithful family had put out. But in May -- just two months ago -- she was given a death sentence. The cancer was back and had ravaged her already war-torn body.

Doctors only gave her a 33 percent chance of survival the first time around. The second time though, they said there's no chance for survival. But Christian wasn't done fighting. She gave it another go with experimental drugs but it made things worse. Doctors said there was nothing left to do. The more-mature than her years Christian said, "No more. I just want to enjoy the life I have left."

So that's what the family is doing. Her mom said she feels the family is blessed. That statement instantly made me cringe, which she said it does most people. "How could we be blessed when we know our daughter will die a way too early death?" But Christina said her daughter's strength and faith has taught her and so many countless lessons. The girls short life has affected so many.

Back to the pool and deck -- Christian continued to shovel in the noodles as her mom spelled out the diagnosis and journey of the disease. She seemed unaffected. She was just hungry and ready to swim. Soon she and Grace put on their brightly colored bikinis, and we all headed out to the pool -- which was supposed to be the topic of the story.

I get chills recounting the meeting. She was so positive, so vibrant, so energetic. Doctors told the family she'd have at most three months of quality life. That was nearly three months ago and she's shown little to no signs of slowing down. And doctors said she'll probably be dead before May rolls around next year. Christian isn't thinking about that though. Instead, she said she's enjoying what time she does have, especially in that pool of hers.

The story in Sunday's Town Talk talks more about this wonderful little girl.