Knitting to Untangle the Snags in Life

This has been an exhausting winter break. 48s sandwiching the round robin of Christmas Eve Day, with a mandate thrown in on our shopping day. Sick little muppets and pup with Downs coming to join our pack - and all the preparation that comes with that! Cleaning rooms and baking cookies. Controversial decisions leading to my FF turning in his bunkers for bullet proof.

I needed something mindless. Reading can only happen when the muppets are asleep or not in the house. (That is a new thing since my hormone depletion.) Paperwork - yeah, I need to get to that, but have that scheduled for later in the week.  I needed something to do that allows me to unplug and disconnect, but still be around the muppets. 

O's current location as I type.

So, yesterday I ran to the craft store and grabbed some #9 knitting needs and some yarn and was all set to sit down with YouTube. Like a good member of the 21st century, I announced it on FB and one of my amazing friends from work invited the girls and me over for a lesson.  I think I was more polite than her usual EBD crew, but probably significantly more clueless. It was a nice break in this 2nd 48. Until O started complaining of a headache....and was hot to the touch. Never good.  So we rushed home.

And then I goofed up and started over.

I can cast on like nobody's business. Throw in that 2nd needle and it is like I have never used my hands a day in my life...and I end up pulling it all off. Hence the proficient level of casting on. 

My FF kinda snickered and asked what brought this on. Once we chatted he agreed.

I will never be my grandmother. I can see/hear her sitting at the kitchen table knitting away like it was nobody's business, while carrying on a conversation, making dinner and watching a Shirley Temple movie.  That will never be me. My damaged brain has stolen much of my fine motor skills from me, the beautiful baby blankets will never be coming from me. I will be more of a scarf and washcloth kinda gal...and I am okay with that.

I just want something to distract my mind. Distract my mind so I don't hear the buzz of social media causing concern or the cliche Dog with a Blog story lines. But, at the same time, I can look up and enjoy the giggles of my muppets. 

So, we'll see how this goes.

Waiting Through the Fear

Today is not a Green shift. There was no trade on. There was no red flu. And yet my FF is not here. I finished up the Christmas shopping by myself, which was not in the plans. I continue the cookies alone.  My FF and I were supposed to be doing that. We were supposed to enjoy this day as mom and dad, as husband and wife.  And yet he is not here. I am wrapping the presents he said he would tend to, simply because it gives me something to focus on. Lord knows social and main stream media were not leaving me be.

He is on lock down - last I heard - at the firehouse.  No shopping. No gas. They are on lock down. 

And I am TERRIFIED that he won't be coming home. 

Fires do not scare me, I completely trust his training and his company. Stray bullets make me uncomfortable, but I don't have nightmares about them. 

Mobs. Anger. Riots. SCARE THE HELL OUT OF ME! 

Two police officers were just shot and killed. NYPD, my heart bleeds for you. I literally have been sleeping my my FDNY t-shirt trying to send my love to New York.

I am angry at my community. My kids could die and there would be no public out cry. 21 of my kids have died - TWENTY-ONE - through violence or their own hands.  And where was all this attention. They were young and black. THEIR LIVES MATTERED. And yet, there was no outcry. 

I KNOW that our mental health needs are HUGE. I know that there is a SIGNIFICANT portion of our homeless population that is need of mental health attention. I taught psych last year and three weeks dedicated to the mental health needs of OUR homeless population. I KNOW we are tending to them properly. 

But, that does not mean that we as spouses of first responders need to worry about John Q. Public walks up to one of our own and kills them for no reason other the fact that they are public servants. 

Pigs.

Public demands for their heads on pikes. Did they do anything? Do they not deserve to come back home to their families? 

A life for a life? Someone sent me a nasty gram quoting good old Hammurabi. Bad move. YOU  FORGOT I AM A HISTORY TEACHER! I teach that Code in GREAT detail. But, if you are going to quote that and say we need to go back to it, please realize that there are HUGE class and gender differences that speak in direct CONTRAST to what this mission should be.

Life matters.

All of them.

They should ALL matter to ALL of us.

His life matters to me. He is my sun and my moon. He is my love. And I want him to come home safe to me.

I pulled out that DAMN NOTEBOOK, just in case. I don't want to have to look for it. But, WHY should I have to? Why should I not trust the people of my city to treat him with the same compassion and peace that he treats so many of them with, every 48 hours. 

Let him come home, to me.  To his Muppets.

I wait...

Hug those FFs tight. Nothing is promised.

Proud Momma

Just a quick moment to brag.  Sorry to those of you on Facebook with me, but I get to gush.

My boys are gaining some notice, aside from me for not having their room cleaned, and it is kinda cool to see it happen.  

Our oldest is at the high school I teach at. It was a drama filled decision, but one that has suited him quite well. After the first quarter grades were posted, he's #1 in his class.  Now, I realize that this is not spring of his senior year, but the foundation is definitely in place during this formative period and I think this is an amazing start. He is also being honored with an award this evening by the Milwaukee Urban League. I'll have pictures from that event after tonight.  It is nice that the world sees him as an amazing kid and it is not just me seeing it through my rose colored momma goggles.

Our youngest son is making the middle school rite of passage DC trip this spring.  He has been given the honor of laying a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknowns through an essay that wrote. He worked on that, draft after draft. He has also been inducted into the National Junior Forensic League honor society for his performances this season in debate.

Some days it is nice that things that I think are totally insane all around me, are actually falling into place quite nicely. Nice to know I am doing something right, even though it is the week before Christmas break and the whole world seems insane.

My FF is home with a sick girl. Here's where I am oh so grateful for this schedule. Hugs those FFs, they are amazing to have around.

Control Freak

I am a control freak.

No question about it.  I am working on, but I am unsuccessful as of yet.

My Christmas tree was a prime example. Since the kids have their own, I didn't let them help me very much.  And I undid what they decorated.

I must have order in my kingdom. Order and balance and complimentary colors.

The kids have their own tree, colored lights, character ornaments, handmade loveliness.

And now our oldest is going back through and redecorating what the little muppets took so much joy in decorating.

Kids learn what they see, regardless of what you preach.

Same is true for my interactions with adults. I am a control freak. I will indeed take over just so things get done perfectly.

I must have order in my kingdom.

I have a student teacher.  Older than the traditional student teacher, but very much a baby in their own right.  And the university that sent from has created a year-long student teaching program. This semester is referred to as "student teaching lite".

I HATE IT!

I must have order in my kingdom.

This diet student teaching simply creates one more prep for me, with no time for it. In fact, working with this baby teacher takes away my prep period.  You know, the one I use to grade, make copies, place phone calls to parents, plan, etc.

Because, you know, I have SOOOOO much time at home to do this.

It is killing me to turn my class over to my baby teacher. I tried to hide in another classroom to just let him teach, but I could hear my kids.

There was no order in my kingdom.  There was chaos and profanity.  And as I walked by to peek, my baby teacher was looking lost.

I know that there is growth. I know that there needs to be practice, but these are my babies.

And I am a control freak,

Wish me luck and patience. This is my area of personal growth needs.

I must have order in my kingdom.

On much more sorrowful note, please send your thoughts and prayers to Philly. Firefighter Joyce Craig Lewis lost her life in the Line of Duty.  Kiss those firefighters of yours. Tomorrow is never promised. Peace.

Life

Life happens. And you make choices. 

This blog got me through some rough points in my life - suddenly finding myself married to a firefighter, mainly. 

But, when life gets insane, I sadly tossed it to the side. 

I started to share all of the issues of my oh so routine surgery with this post.  I got the school year started and football and Infinite Campus and both girls in judo...and I was back in the hospital for a week. I missed Homecoming. I wasn't feeling right. Earlier in the week, I started bleeding.  Like heavy period bleeding.  Ummmm, yeah, all my lady parts were removed. After a CT scan, they found a vaginal fistula.  The more I researched, the more I realized no one really sees those. It is mostly found in 3rd World Countries and in older women. I was referred to a specialist. We were going to do a few more scans and decide if we were going to go with bowel rest - no food for three months - or a quite invasive surgery to repair the breech, That weekend was Homecoming.  J was on shift the night before and I was sicker than a dog. He went to the game...I called and made him come home. We went to the ER, were immediately sent to a room and I was admitted faster than I have ever seen before. The head of the department took my case and said he had never seen anything like this.  I was going septic. And still puking my guts out - they restricted my zofran.

Lovely nail polish thanks to
the even lovely Fire Wife Elly.

A few days into my stay, we did an NG tube, they decided there was a blockage. THAT SUCKED A$$! My gag reflex is so strong and you can't puke with an NG tube.  They got the blockage and were planning to leave it in for 2-3 days. Yeah, I made them take it out after 3 hours. Either they removed it, or I would. It was that simple. Fire Wife Elly was amazing and drove up for a few of those days, and sadly had to witness that horrible experience. She was amazing, I was not. 

After that god awful thing came out, I had one more violent bout with puking my guts out and miraculously, I felt human. I could walk the halls and handle the smell of food, without having to dash back. Clearly, the obstruction was a huge issue. 

A few more days in the hospital, including a fluoroscopy that had the residents running in to watch like any episode of Grey's Anatomy, without the viewing gallery, so they were all up close and personal with my nether regions.  If I had any modesty left after the babies, it was gone with this test. I realize that this test is NEVER seen in MDC, but holy crap. 

If you can picture the Ben Stein's character in Ferris Bueller, that was the doc doing this test. It was humourous. 

The fricking TEAM of specialist that had formed to deal with my crisis that no one could explain, suddenly found themselves with a mystery. The fistula that was clear as day - even my completely untrained eyes could see it  - had resolved. With no rhyme or reason.  I have my own thoughts, but that is for another day.  Suddenly, I was coming home.

This scared my FF, like no other issue before.  I have nearly died bringing three of the kids into the world.  But I think the docs saying that I was septic and they didn't think they would get me back...after the SNAFU with my surgery...after the 56 PEs...was more than he could really handle. He could have lost me several times over this summer/fall. Luckily, I am far too stubborn to go in such a mundane fashion.  We worry so much about them coming home, this time the shoe was on the other foot. Tomorrow is not a guarantee for any of us.

But, I have not been the same. I sleep...a lot. So not like me. I get tired so easily. I have never experienced this. 

The worst part of this - timing.  Murphy was clearly paying attention. Two days after I was admitted, my FF started a long term subbing position for a teacher on maternity leave.  Two + months of him not only on shift - but also teaching. That left me really having to carry the load at home, at a time when I could barely hold my head up after 4pm. Football, chess, debate, homework, church - really all falling in my lap at a time when I really needed to not be the strong firewife who takes on the world. 

And, sadly, THtH was neglected. I have some posts that I really need to get up.  I will get this bad girl up and running again.  I haven't abandoned her. 

Thanks for checking in.  For those of you who have kept me company through all of this, thanks for all your love, support and prayers. 

Love on those firefighters. Tomorrow is never promised.