Birthday post. For Reals.

There are so many photos, I should break this into separate posts. But I won't. Nobody has dial up anymore, do they? If you do, I bet you've quit reading my blog by now. At any rate, the really marvelous photos were taken with my sister's fancy camera, mostly by my sister.

So we had originally planned this shin-dig for a fabulous gazebo in the park 4 blocks from our house: a sweet, rolling view of the river, and an historic bear cage nearby, and, hello, playground equipment! But it rained for 3 days solid before the party, so the puddles were too much for us, and we moved it to our town's mall. Which, I know, sounds lame, but our mall is so under utilized that it was perfect. We had a fancy mall fountain, and sky lights, and cobblestone walkways, and almost no one even looked twice at us. Plus, there was a Maurice's, a GNC, and a gun shop all around us. What else does a girl need for her fifth birthday?

Above is most of the food table: cake, cupcakes, olives, jelly, pb & jelly, and pickle sandwiches, crackers and cheeseball, grapes and strawberries and kiwi, and cheetos cheese puffs. What's not to like? The cupcakes say "EAT ME." Alice in Wonderland references snuck in lots of places.

Here're some food close ups, to make you wish you'd been there even more.

I love party gift bags as a theory, but in practice I always forget to give them out. Kid parties are great that way: kids can smell a gift bag from 50 paces. We filled ours with plastic tea set parts (I bought five 12-piece sets & split them to fill 10 bags), notepads, and a pirate eyepatch. Originally we were going to have a Mad Tea Party, but then V decided it should just be a Stuff V Likes in General party. So it was.

I sewed the gift bags from some orange gingham yardage in my stash. First, I cut big rectangles, and then V and I stamped this fabulous Alice in Wonderland stamp that Jen Aasen had sent me many years ago. I chain straight-stitched up the sides, sewed a casing for the drawstings, and ran a double length of thread (it's cotton string, really) through, and called them done. Very simple, but they feel nice and look substantial.  

We had about a dozen pink flamingos that people got to bring home, too, as favors. They're technically dog toys, and all of our friends with dogs got at least one; some of our friends without dogs are happy to let their kids play with dog toys. That's how we roll.

The Cheshire Cat card, above, is one of about 90 that we hid around the space. Well, not so much "hid" as "taped." It was a game: whoever fouind the most won a prize.

Here's the kid's table, about halfway through. Everyone got up and wandered, which was fine: I used a vintage sheet for the table cloth and laid the gift bags down the center. In the background you can see Maurice's, and the wee merry-go-round.

Here's the lovely Sara.

I made party hats, from these instructions, tweaking a bit for my purposes. I made them 12" high, for example, because that wasted less paper (and gave them more of a dunce-cap look, which I enjoy).  The lace was the easiest by far, because I didn't have to scrunch as I sewed.

Sweet Oscar.

Oscar's sister, Matilda, workin' it for the camera.

Beautiful Beth, Shaun's little sister.

Beautiful Jess, my little sister.

Nancy and Crystal, surrounded by sippy cups that don't belong to either of them, at the coloring/eating table.

Shaun gives V a ride on the Merry-go-round

Michael, who we invited to a) up the adorableness and b) show our multicultural skills. (He's on his mama, Sara's, lap).

McKenna, who's smile is absolutely angelic, or wicked, depending on how you look at things.

Phil, who is so dreamy and in a band to boot.

Emerson Claire in her party hat.

Carla and Shaun making goo-goo eyes at Tilda.

We played a pretty cool egg-carrying game that didn't use real eggs (note the Cheshire Cat in the background).

Lotsa hats! (Will, McK, Eli)...

I like this picture of my friend Jenn, partially because it really captures the Mallness we were looking for.

Pinata. Did I mention there was a pinata? Several people mentioned that they especially enjoyed Shaun holding the pinata in the middle of our space, calling "Children! Children!" to get the thing opeed up. There's just something funny about a big man who looks a little like Charles Manson beckoning youngsters that warms the heart.

All in all, it was a marvelous party, with marvelous guests, excessive gifts (were my childhood birthdays this lucrative?? Jeez), and enough handmade stuff that my martha stewart itch got scratched real good. And that's what a good party should do, isn't it?

Uff-da days

I took three pictures of V's birthday party. Three. Grandma Myra and Aunt Jess had better come through with better coverage, because I don't even want to post those three, what with how pathetic they are. Instead, I bring you this. It's from Uff-da Days, and the morning after this photo I had a helluva hangover. The picture needs no explanation, really.

Five

Tomorrow, V Elizabeth will be five. She loves to swim, tell knock knock jokes, and dance. She loves her family, and making up songs, and Alice in Wonderland, and pickle sandwiches. She wants to be with her Mama a lot, and likes to lick the beaters, and sometimes hides under the couch cushions until we sit on her. She loves to read, and watch television, and just got her own XBox profile today; she loves to run as fast as she can, always holds my hand in the parking lot, and doesn't complain too much when she's served vegetables. She is quick-tempered and kind and smart and ours, and we are very lucky indeed.

Happy birthday, Baby V. I hope five is even better than four.

Back to School, year III

This should be old news, really. I mean, she did it last year, and the year before. This year, though, with all our family excitement, she started a couple days late (which helped increase her enthusiasm, somehow). And she was in a hurry, so we couldn't take a photo on the front steps like the last 2 years (which is the whole point! of yearly photos! in the same place! dammit!).

So here she is in front of her school, in her "Music is my Life" t-shirt that her daddy and I bought her in Vegas. She loves this t-shirt, she told me, "because it's true, and it's shiny!"

Amen.

Here's a mediocre photo of the new backpack: V picked the fabric, and the interior is quite a contrast, but I don't have a picture of that right this minute. The outside is upholstry weight I bought at Mill End in St. Cloud in 2005, (and made her some pants from) and some random scrap of turquoise that I needed to do the bottom and the straps (and the V) since I ran out of the pink. The inside's quilting cotton. The zipper is something I removed from a leather jacket I cut up to make shoes, so it's nice and heavy duty and turquoise.

Someday I should do a post on how to make a backpack, but if you google "backpack tutorials" you'll probably get more for your money. I just make it up as I go, and sometimes it goes smoothly, and sometimes it breaks my brain.

At any rate, the first two days of school have gone very smoothly: I don't know what she'll learn this year, since she already knows how to read, but I'm sure excited to find out.

I hope this year ends up being true, and very shiny.

Photogenic

I really do love taking pictures. I love capturing a moment on film (or digitally), and I love how a photo can bring back a memory (or even help me maintain a memory).

But I am ridiculously cheap. I mean, it's pretty silly. Spending a large amount of money on myself, especially, is not easy, unless it's for travelling, or education (I had little trouble going $20K into debt for college and grad school, for example). But clothes? I bought one $7 shirt last year, and kept it in the bag for two weeks because I felt guilty, and thought I should return it. In the end I didn't, because it's flattering and great for work, but it wasn't easy for me, because on Mondays at Saver's I can get seven shirts for that amount of money.

Mercy, though, I like taking pictures. As Shaun says, "You fancy yourself a shutterbug." I just love learning the tricks of an individual camera, and figuring out how to make it record exactly what I want.

These two attributes of mine, my cheapness and my shutterbuggery, are somewhat opposed, though. Our first digital camera, bought just after V was born, was small and sweet, and fun. But it wore out. Our next one was a spare my in-laws had, when there was a Christmas overlap gift of a digital camera. I'm still using that one, but it's getting more and more difficult to turn on: I lick the batteries, I press buttons, I whisper sweet nothings in its camera-ear; nothing seems to do it. (Can I get camera viagra anywhere?)

At the same time we got the in-laws cameras, Myra got a hand-me down Nikon from some dear friends who were upgrading.  I acquisitioned it, since I am the family member most skilled in improvsing repairs: It needed the battery closure to be held shut with duct tape, and I'm more than happy to duct tape anything, especially if it means I get a decent camera out of the deal.


Now, though, that battery door has come off completely, and it's just a huge production to try to make even one photograph happen in either camera. I've been using Jess and Brad's Olympus OM 35mm,and I really love it, truly. At the same time, now I've got film and development to worry about, and I have to pay extra to get the photo CD in case there's anything worth sharing online....

So I'm starting, regretfully, to be in the market for a new camera. My sister has an amazing, breathtaking, ridiculously fancy camera that would make photos of Shaun's toenails look like art. I'm not sure we can afford such a camera, but perhaps then we should save up until we can. I love the idea of a digital SLR.

Dear readers, have you any suggestions? Is digital photography so last year? Should I invest in $1000 camera if it means forgoing potential dental work for a year? What's a reasonable amount and what are minimums you look for in a digital camera? Or, contrarily, if you've got a digital camera to give away, or to sell real cheap, I'll be more than happy to take one off your hands. I promise to give it a good home.

I fancy myself a blogger...

Sorry I've been away so long. Shaun's mama's been ailing, and had surgery today. She's recovering, and we're hoping for good news in the days to come, but we've been very much preoccupied.

2010 has been a long year.

Shaun continues to do well, though, with his heart failure (that's a weird sentence, isn't it?). He's lost 40 lbs since June 9, and continues to be relatively free of symptoms like shortness of breath. He's walking 3-4 miles a week, and I'm so impressed by the number of changes he's made successfully. It's inspiring, and I'm so proud of him.

V starts school this week (she's missing today and tomorrow so we can be with Grandma Mary and the family), and is totally excited, and you should expect lovely back-to-school photos soon, with a brand-new backpack and everything.

I will be back as soon as I can, while I figure out how to juggle work and family and blogness all over again. Thanks for your patience, gentle readers.

Viva!

Waiting in the Fargo airport.

I had to make him take a picture of me to prove I was on this trip, too.

Riding the fancy movable sidewalk into Bally's

Shaun singing "Mandy" at Bill's Gamblin' Hall

Chandelier I wish I had in my house; at the Golden Nugget.

More to come...

Where ya been?

Helloooo loyal readers. I know I"ve been overly quiet here in the last few weeks; lots of excuses, but none of them very good. Instead of delving into them, I'll list things I have brewing in the upcoming post-section of my brain.

1. Lessons learned in Las Vegas (perhaps a multi-part series)
2. What to do when you stay up until 1am making a new backpack for your preschooler, and when she wakes up and sees it she shrugs and says "Meh. I like my old backpack still." (seriously. she said meh.)
3. Phineas and Ferb marathons: friend or foe?
4. Family reunions & you
5. How the hell will I be ready for school by August 23rd?

I'm off to empty the dishwasher. See how glamorous my life is?

Quilts of our lives, part 6 (or so)

Along with the chicken quilt, this was from my whole-cloth phase. The fish fabric was from two sets of flannel sheets I got on clearance at Target. Both sides are fairly well-quilted, and by "well" I mean "lots o' stitches, not necessarily nice ones." It was my first non stitch-in-the ditch quilt, and I still sleep under it.

This photo makes it look like I quit quilting once I felt like it was going to hold together. Which I did. I find it hilarious, apparently, to showcase my limited abilities and dedication.

The next quilt of our series will likely be one I didn't make, so stay tuned!

Crushing guilt. As usual.

So I've always been good at feeling bad. I still feel bad for dumb things I did in 1st grade. What is wrong with me? That can't be normal. See? I feel bad for feeling bad.

Shaun's illness has offered lots of new opportunities for guilt. Guilt for serving sodium-laden food all these years. Guilt when I crave (and can eat) carry-out pizza. Guilt when I forget to start the sodium-free pot roast, so he has to have a salt-free peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Again.

Then there's the generalized guilt: Guilt for not blogging more, guilt for posting whiny blog posts like this one, guilt that V watches too much tv, guilt that I don't get my papers graded faster, guilt that I don't write more letters/eat more vegetables/go to the library more.

And I know all the stuff about forgiving myself, and moving on, and taking steps to let go of guilt. And I feel guilty for not doing them.

Mostly, I'm posting about all my guilt so that I can get it out of me, air it out, and move on. We'll see how well that works.

Our Valley's Fair

Mama and V on the Ferris Wheel (this one was much less scary for me than our last Ferris Wheel)

This picture is so awesome, I feel like I should write to the footlong corndog company and ask if they want to buy some copies.

The Dizzy Dragon in which V and Daddy rode.

On the wacky tugboat ride.

The second best footlong corndog photo ever.

I would've paid good money if a bug would've flown in just then. Very good money.

Top of the ferris wheel midway shot. I love midways.

When your child has sensory integration issues, a fair (or circus or parade or baseball game or doctor's visit or movie or walk around the block or trip to the store or a basic conversation) can be a frightening can full of angry, rabid worms. To prepare, we talked about the fair for about a week ahead of time, and brought sunglasses and water. I should've brought wet wipes (MOM! I AM STICKY! was heard by, um, everyone at the fair), but overall it was a successful trip, without a single meltdown or kick or uncontrollable screaming bout (sticky fit notwithstanding). She wavered once or twice, but marched on, and we had a lovely time.

Whew.

Two

Two years ago this evening, I know exactly where I was. As the second child in her family, and the third grandchild, Emmy might seem sometimes to get lost in the shuffle, but the truth is, she won't stand for that. I wrote a poem for V's second birthday, and for Will's, and knowing Emmy, if I don't write her one, she won't ever forgive me. Last year's post for her was a type of poem, but this one here's more official. Not terribly polished, but utterly heartfelt.

Emerson Claire

Your dark ringlets grew in this year

curling around your ears and into my heart.

You are my little sister, version two,

with her sweet round face and dark eyes,

and generosity in your heart.

Like your mother, second doesn't suit you.

You must be heard, and obeyed. Such a big voice

in a small girl.

I can see you, lead singer in your own punk

band, passionate schoolteacher, brilliant CEO,

pouring your fiery self into this world.

I am lucky to see you grow into yourself,

with your vaudevillian sense of comedy,

finicky eating, and clear, repeated shouts of "No!"

The world is lucky to have you, too.

May it give back as much as you give it, and more.

A second place to Languish

I got tired of all the spam involved in my Google blog, so I'm trying again, this time in Wordpress. Knock yourself out, leave supportive comments, and .... offer suggestions. Please.

All we ever hoped for.

A rare, non-goofy photo of my family. I love them both so.

In one of Shaun's appointments this week, his doctor from BHFC (before heart failure crap) said he's quite confident Shaun will rebound and work through this. Though heart failure is not something one gets over, the doctor said given his age and willingness to change his lifestyle, it should be manageable. I guardedly accept his assessment, but if he turns out wrong, I'm gonna hunt him down and knee him in the groin.

I think that's reasonable.

Nice ejection fraction, babe.

Things that suck about heart failure:
1. learning more new terms/concepts than I have since college. Or at least since we became parents.
2. It's freakng called heart FAILURE. How does that even sound fun?
3. Trying for a low-sodium diet. This is a respectable goal, but do you have any idea how hard it is? Shaun's supposed to have 2000 mg or less of sodium a day, on average. Which isn't too bad, considering some people can't have any salt at all, and the US RDA of sodium is 2400 mgs/ day. But one slice of cheese pizza has 702 mg of sodium. A can of Campbell's chunky soup has roughly 1600 mg of sodium. One egg has 65 mg. One cup of milk has 135. How did this happen? Why is it everywhere? Why is it in milk but not in whipping cream?
4. Seeing the horrified faces of my nursing students when I tell them Shaun's ejection fraction is 20%.
5. Four doctors appointments a week.
6. It's damn hard to plan a date when you can't go out to dinner together because everything at every restaurant is made, primarily , of salt.

Fun things about heart failure:
1. He might get an implanted difibulator. You know, a difibulator is the kind of thing that Dr. Green would use on ER right after he shouted "Clear!" And everyone had to stop touching the patient. Shaunie could have one of those implanted. Like a magic power, kind of.
2. Shaun has a wee bottle of nitroglyerin he's supposed to take with him wherever he goes.
3. This makes me think of us as Hepburn and Fonda in On Golden Pond.
4. That means I get to be Hepburn.
5. Our insurance covers 3 of the 4 weekly doctors appointments (and I feel very, very fortunate for this).
6. Heart in spanish is El Corazon. El Corazon is an album I enjoy by Steve Earle.

Okay, it's a stretch to come up with 6 fun things about heart failure. But I'm trying.

A blessed fourth of July to you and yours. Be careful of waterballoons.  Love all y'all.

8 years and one day

It doesn't feel that long ago when we gathered with our families, and Shaun made fun of my Swedish crown (he kept asking if I wanted to go to Burger King), and we promised to love each other all our lives.

We got married when we did partially because Shaun didn't have any health insurance, and because his grandfather died of a heart attack at 37 (and Shaun was 32), I was afraid for him to not have insurance. My work would gladly add him, as long as we got married. Plus we loved each other and stuff (though it still bothers me that we can get married and our gay and lesbian friends cannot).

I keep thinking I want to say something profound here, but given our recent circumstances, it all seems trite and goofy. The last eight years have been crazy, sometimes crazy good, and sometimes crazy not so good. Thanks for showing up in the backyard that Wednesday in 2002, Shaunsie. It's been a helluva ride so far.

Settling down

Shaun's been out of the hospital since Wednesday, and he is feeling pretty good overall (thankfully). We've been working hard to figure out what he can/should eat, and realizing that if you just take salt out of things and don't replace it with something yummy, most things taste like wet cardboard. At least, that's what I've been realizing.

We have heard from so many dear friends, through blog comments, facebook, e-mails, and phone calls. Honestly, when I feel overwhelmed (you mean he's hungry again? And he already ate all the leftover chicken?) or lonesome, I think of all of you, and I feel much better.

Our merry-go-round is still spinning, and still a bit wobbly, but at least it's slowed down enough for us to take a breath. Thanks for all the thoughts, prayers, and love. They help more than you know.

Serious need for re-branding, people.

So it looks like Shauners should get to come home tomorrow, late morning or early afternoon. We'll meet with doctors and set up appointments to start his cardiac rehab regimen. In the meantime, the nurses dropped off a packet of information for us to peruse to better understand what we're dealing with.

You know what it's titled?

Heart Failure Packet.

Fun, right? What the hell? All kinds of other diseases get fancy names (see: chilbain, dropsy, scarlet fever, whooping cough), but this is the best they can come up with? Let's call it Jeanette, or Tha-Thump, Tha-Thump, or even Heart Sickness Packet. Heart Failure Packet just sounds so...so...much like a lost cause.

But wait, it gets better. The inside of the Heart Failure Packet includes fascinating pamphlets like "Living Well with Heart Failure," and "A Stronger Pump" with a cartoon of a heart flexing a....bicep. What? Oh, and the paperwork to create a living will.

I understand. Things are very serious. But, um, Meritcare, maybe include...I dunno, a few pretty stickers? Some semblance of hope? Perhaps a free t-shirt that says "I'm Successful at Heart Failure!"

We have to cut out salt. Do you know what has the most salt? Foods that taste good. Everything made by every fast-food company everywhere. My mother's homemade bean and ham soup. Frickin' milkshakes!

I'm looking forward to Shaun coming home, and I'm giving all our salt-laden food away. And if Meritcare needs advice on sprucing up their Jeanette Packet, I'm all over it.

Thanks for the love, guys. It means the world to us.

Saltily yours,
J, $, and V

It's hangin'

Thanks for all the care, concern, comments, and calls, dear ones. Shaun got good rest today, and will have an angiogram tomorrow (which totally sounds like a singing telegram from a girl named Angie, by the way). If that's clear, he will get to go home tomorrow, with some new meds and follow up appointments. If it's not clear, he may be in another day or so, but even then there are treatments and plans already laid out.

Everyone at the hospital has been lovely, thorough, and optimistic. My last post was scary, I know, but I'm feeling much more hopeful, and much less afraid. We're lucky to have caught Shaun's condition at this point, and the medications are already making him feel better. We feel well cared for and well informed, and for that I'm thankful.

Our lives will need to change, regardless. It's clear we need to take better care of ourselves and each other. And I know this is terribly corny, but instead of the end of our old lives, which I bemoaned in my last post, I hope we'll look back on this week as a new chance, a new beginning.

Please know that if I don't return your calls or messages or e-mails, it's not that I haven't received them. I'll try to keep updating as we get new information, and I love knowing we're in your thoughts. When things calm down a tad (hopefully tomorrow or the next day), I'll work on getting back to each of you. Until then, thank you all so much.

Father's Day

Shaun is sick. He had pneumonia about ten days ago, and still wasn't feeling better yesterday. The doctor at yesterday's walk-in said "Well your heart is enlarged..." as if he should have known that. We didn't. Shaun was admitted to the hospital last night around 6:30.

Cardiomyopathy. Do not look at any links I don't put here, people. The internet is a terrifying place.

When I was 12, and my dad had the stroke, I remember the distinct feeling that nothing would ever be the same. I got pissed off at Connie Chung for prattling on about celebrity news. I feel that way now (except for the Connie Chung part). It's not an especially fair analogy, but still I am trying not to hyperventilate.

It's been a hard year for us. A terrible year. We decided to have a second baby this winter, which drove us straight to marriage counselling this spring, trying to remember why we loved each other, and whether or not we could figure things out. Just this month, we both started to feel again that maybe we could work through this, that we could actually still make a life together.

Now he's in the hospital, and it's father's day, and I'm trying not to freak out. I want to call someone, someone who will tell me this will be okay. I want to call the Mayo Clinic. I want to shake the doctor who read Shaun's x-ray last week, who didn't tell us/notice/mention that his heart was already enlarged. I want someone to fix this. I want my husband, and I want V to have her father, for a long, long time.

"I don't want anything for Father's Day," he said last week. "It just reminds me how I'm not a father of two like you wanted me to be." My sweet holy moses, man. You are above and beyond the father I wanted you to be, and you have been since September 7, 2005. I don't need a second baby. I need you, and me, and her, as healthy as we can be, together for as long as we can make it.

I want our old life back. I don't think it will ever be the same.

(Edited to add: Shaun's feeling pretty good right now, just a little short of breath. We haven't met with the cardiology team yet, and don't know much at all about what our future will hold. I don't want to scare anyone unnecessarily: I'm busy doing that to myself.)

Flora

Part II of Jen and V's Summer Adventures: Flora.

V requested this photo: she says it looks like Ferb, a character from her favorite cartoon.

Fauna

My dear friends who hate snakes: you're gonna wanna stop reading this before photo #4. Just so you know. And if any of you hate dragonflies or caterpillars, you might as well just stop reading altogether. V and I have been out and about quite a bit this summer. We've been to the lake, and we went camping. For your viewing pleasure, I'm breaking all this excitement down into categories including Flora, Fauna, and something else I haven't decided on yet. Mineral, maybe? Offer your suggestions.

I don't remember seeing these things in my childhood. My father in law says they're called army worms, and they aren't caterpillars, per se, as they never transform into moths or butterflies. A lot of folks seem to hate these, but I'm just glad they don't bite. And I think they come in some cool colors.

This dragonfly is not the same as the first one pictured, I don't think. Dragonflies are hard to photograph, it turns out. Don't say I never taught you nothin, now.

And perhaps the most excitement we had camping: this little garter snake slithered right through the middle of camp one afternoon. V was napping, and Crystal, Nancy, and I were sitting around talking when Crystal said "Hey, Nance! Look! No, don't look!" She and I both thought it was a great big earth worm before we realized it was more sinister than that. I wasn't fast enough to get a photo of the whole thing, and I wasn't brave enough to touch it, so this tail shot will have to do.

What say you? What summer adventures have you enjoyed so far?

PS: the first two photos are with the old-school Olympus camera, and the last two are from digital. Can you tell the difference? Explain, in 200 words or less.