A Cut Above the Rest...

Here's the long and short of it. I have decided my new hobby is cutting hair. My hairdresser is even encouraging me to go back to school and really do it. I'm adding to my list of clients. I've cut Cala's hair - which she like. Chelsea's hair - which I'm never allowed to do again. Rightfully so, I didn't listen to my her and cut WAY too much off and felt really bad about it.

I disposed of this sister's mullett when she came to stay with me in January.





I've shaved Connor's head - but really it's a just a mess so I started out-sourcing that one again.



As you can see there's been trend in our house. However, my cutting ways have caught up with me. Last week Connor came up behind me when I was sitting at the computer. I thought he was going to hug me around the next but instead, snip, snip... he cut my hair! My shoulder length bob was left with one awkward layer about 3 inches wide and 4 inches shorter than the rest. I did have this coming. Carma right. But still, my 3 year-old cut my hair!! (I have forgiven him even though I'm sure he could care less)




I was so stunned that I didn't know what to do. Damage done. Turns out I'm loving my new bob - even if it did have a rough start.

Who thinks I should permantly retire my scissors?

Hungry?

Erika to Connor: I'm going to the grocery store and you're going to stay home with Ruth. I'll be home soon.

Connor to Erika: Bring back some bacon.

She'll be mad I posted this but...

I was cutting Cala's hair (my new hobby) and had this conversation with her.

Erika: Cala, do you know what a period is.

Cala: Ya mom.

Erika: What is it - just so I make sure you understand.

Cala: (accurately describes it)

Erika: Where did you learn about that.

Cala: Duh, Mom. Judy Bloom.

I'm still laughing! Thank you Judy Bloom.

The A's have it.

The A is for ANDREA! I can't say enough about this sister right now. She kept our family together last week and this week, I'm really missing her. Andrea came on Monday and toughed out the harsh Canadian winter until Saturday morning. She made breakfast everyday, helped with the kids (Connor was revolutionized) and drove me to doctors appointments. (just to name a few things she did) I didn't lift anything heavy (see Connor) and my storage room/basement is in fine shape. I have to admit I felt guilty the entire week, knowing that I'm not doing the same for her and that she left 3 kids to come help me with mine. Guilty but very grateful.



She showed me a very effective way of dealing with Connor and his demands and tantrums. She holds out one hand and gives him one option, holds out another as she explains the second option. Is all he has to do is touch a hand to let you know what he wants. This has proved invaluable. He refuses to talk when he cries and not letting him have a voice makes him worse. The night she left he said to me at bed time: "Do it like Andrea does." Point taken.



This little girl was a flashback to her Annie for Andrea. "Chelsea, are you ready for school?" Chelsea: "Um, well mostly, but I think I need to pack by backpack and maybe brush my teeth, then ya, I'm ready." So, there was no easier way of getting her out the door but Andrea made mornings easier by taking breakfast requests. Chelsea is now the biggest fan of Andrea's pumpkin chocolate chip pancakes. We've already repeated that one this week. Chelsea also attempted getting out of school one day by saying, 'But Aunt Andrea is here and it's special. I should really stay home from school to be with her."



And Cala, well, she's just good, listens well and is happy to be around. She would come home from school and want to know where Andrea was. Cala, was insistent we all get manicures and pedicures when it fell though one day, Andrea took us all out for doughnuts instead. Well she tried but Cala came running back to me at the table and said, "Andrea needs your wallet to pay." But still.

Andrea, we miss you and love you like crazy. For the record, EVERYONE needs a Colonel in their lives... but you will always be ours.

I'm BACK (with a problem back)

Aren't sister's great. Many thanks to Kristen for cheering me up and simply being here when I needed family most. So, after 3 days in the hospital (old, dirty hospital) I am glad and grateful to be living life again. I HATE the hospital. I'm not sure why I seem to have random things happen to me and end up there. Is there a lesson, some medical training some person in the hospital needs to learn from my case, am I supposed to be more grateful for socialized medicine, what? Nearly 3 years ago I spent a week in the hospital getting my stomach pumped, miserable, dark and a surgery to fix a bowel blockage. Now back problems? Does anyone else know someone my age who's spent so much time there. (not counting cancer patients or having babies?) Anyway, I'm choosing not to think about that and focusing on the fact it's over and I'm fine.

By fine, here's what I mean. First, no heart, lung or brain problems/complications of any kind. I do however have the resting heart rate of an olympic athlete and extremely low blood pressure. The low blood pressure, combined with the unbearable amount of pain likely caused the passing out episode. That's all the cardiologist could come up with to explain it anyway. (She was smart and well dressed so I believe her) Also, an allergic reaction to morphine extended the hospital stay and slowed my recovery but that's worn off now. Finally, I have back problems. I have a bulging disc and some other problem between L1 and L13. So, back surgery is a last resort and I'm prepared to live with the current amount of discomfort before having ANY kind of hospital stay again. I don't want to even drive near that place. I've been doing physical therapy, chiropractic, and IMS. (like acupuncture) I can walk, climb stairs, generally take care of things. I even get to start slowly working out this week. I can't lift heavy things (Connor) or sit for long amounts of time. (church=ouch) I also started driving again 3 days ago and I'm pretty sure that made me feel better. But, this week is the fist week on my own. Darren's been home. So, instead of worrying my way through the first real week with the kids in school and their schedules - I'm being sent ANOTHER sister! Andrea is coming tomorrow at noon and I can't explain the huge sigh of relief, blessing, excitement. And, I'm changing my last name back to Byram because they are all so amazing is so very many ways.

My 4 siblings and I made a pact - no one sits in a hospital alone. It's a good one. And I know it's just about all a person needs to make them better.

Per Rich...In the words of my sister

I made a last minute (more like second) trip to the North Pole. (AKA butt-cold Calgary) and it all started Tuesday night. A visual on the target:

Please Note: UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES AM I TO BE ANYBODY'S EMERGENCY CONTACT, ONLY PHONE CALL OR FIRST RESPONDER...EVER. PLEASE NOTIFY ME OF EMERGENCIES ONCE THEY ARE COMPLETE, AND NOT A SECOND SOONER.

Sister Erika hurt her back on monday picking up her Connor (seriously read about him). For some reason it seemed like a good idea to muscle through the day, so she did. (first mistake). The next morning she woke up numb, and in unbearable pain. After using the washroom (a ridiculous name for the bathroom), she passed out. Fell off the toilet- out cold, stops breathing and eyes relocate some place in the back of her skull. Minutes later ambulance arrives to take her to the hospital. She is now breathing-ish again and they test her heart where they discover she'd had a heart attack.

Meanwhile- Troops in the land of the free are mobilized

Although this happened at about 7 in the morning, per my above request i wasn't notified until approximately 3 PM. Richard, bless his heart, is the most feclempt he's been since the last Cal-Ranch expansion. He calls me Tuesday night to see if there was anyway I could go to Canada the next day if need be. I agree to said trip.

Meanwhile- in the land above the 49th

Doctors transfer Erika to the high trauma intensive care unit in Calgary for more tests. While they claim it to be the best in the Country it resembles a good day on M*A*S*H. She stays through the night, where even after told not to, her nurse gives her morphine. Erika is allergic to life, so obviously the morphine made her sick.

Meanwhile- in the archipelago of Asia

The Byram's- (whom I will see in T-72 hours) request their passports from headquarters in Manilla (I'm not sure if that is standard procedure or if the authorities are worried they are a flight risk being as Manilla is hours away) and look into flights to the Western Family United States...Canada.

Back to the land of the Brave

Rich calls me- at work and asks if I can be on the 2PM flight to Calg. It's after 11, so I con Caitlyn into shuttling me to SLC International, via the homestead to get my passport and 2 changes of unmentionables. (seriously that's all I brought with me). I find out that the 2PM is all booked, but the Delta rep tells me to go to the airport to see if I can snag a seat anyway. (he was extremely helpful) Get to the counter to buy a ticket, only to be told again sorry the flight is full...bla. (this guy was less helpful) I then get a flight to Denver- then Calgary. Board the flight, 20 minutes pass and we are de-planed per maintenance. The Delta agent then tells me my best bet is to go get on the curtsey Delta Phone and talk to an agent. I do. She is lame, and after minutes of banter (I was totally rude, and not that sorry - I have no time for idiots)Finally I figure out which gate the 2PM flight is leaving from and sprint literally to that gate- which is on the complete opposite side of the airport. I'm sweaty, stinky and about to lose it but manage to fanagle a seat on the 2 PM.

I am greeted (initially by a lovely Indian cab driver) and then by this:

Luckily the next day we would find out that the initial testing was a false negative, and she didn't have a heart attack. However, there is no explanation as to why her heart and lungs went into failure. She is left with a hurniated disk, and an osteophyte between her T12 and L1 Vertebrae. After another night and day in the hospital she is released.

Things this trip has taught me

#1. Erika's roomate Earl (82, wants to quit smoking) totally hated her. Mostly because she was creepy and asked way too many questions.

#2. Canadian Hospitals remind me of the Blackfoot Fair

#3. Even in the excruciating pain Erika still managed to ask me to bring her Anne Taylor order that she had shipped to me- her priorities are always in check.

#4. Sharing a bathroom with dimentia patients provides countless hours of comic relief (specifically when she looked at a neigboring patients pre-flushed toiled and replied- "looks like you had a great breakfast)

#5. The average age on the Cardiology floor was 87 before Erika brought it down into the 50's (she looked like an intern compared to her roomates)

#6. If I'm ever homeless in Canada I will go stay at a hospital (they have snacks for everyone on the floor)

#7. You really don't have to pay for anything in a hospital in the Canada- it felt like we were stealing when we left.

#8. Even though Andrea would prefer to be in charge, we all listen to Rich most in a crisis (he gets the purple heart in all this)

#9. Erika has the highest pain tolerence in the country

#10. Although we've learned to be orphans, we can't live with out our Door Mat- love you E!

How is it that.....

Your 7 year-old who has been missing her two front teeth - finally gets them in time for Christmas. Isn't it backwards... first you want teeth for Christhmas?



You have essentially the same Christmas list as your 9 year-old. Ipods, clothes, pedicure, money.... should there not be an age limit on those things?



And ESPECIALLY how is it that these hands can spend so much of the year destroying things but when it's time to put up the Christmas tree - are the most gentle and careful. (notice that little finger.... the one I'm wrapped around) Let's do this December.