A Living Angel.

Awhile back, I wrote this post about my friend Shel.

Today, with a bit of a heavy heart, I write yet another post in her honor. I want to share her story because of the inspiring, amazing attitude that she has and how she is letting faith guide her. She is letting God take control. She is letting Him make the decisions in her life, which is beyond admirable.

I can't even find any other words to fill in this post. My heart aches for her and her little family who are stationed in Korea, away from family and friends. This is all just beyond words. I can't stop thinking about her and praying.

Please say a prayer, send vibes, think a good thought, or do whatever it is your faith tells you to do, for this sweet family. Someday I will hopefully understand why such awful things happen to such amazing people.

Read their story here. (My friend, Jessica, posted their story on her blog because Blogger was not being nice to Shel.)

Happy Mother's Day!

I can't say it enough....

 

{Christmas '06}

I would be lost without her...

{August '08}

{March '09}

Thank you, mom, for all that you do and all that you are. Lily and I are so lucky to have such an amazing role model. 

{September '10}

In the words of Lily, "Tank you, Nana!! I lub ouuu!!!".

How did I get here?

I rarely post about my career. I hear the horror stories about people who make a blog post or Facebook status posts about their jobs and get canned the next day because it was deemed inappropriate.

Well, I'm taking a chance here because it is such a huge part of my life and I have been feeling a bit...overwhelmed, with a bit of elation mixed in, with my job responsibilities lately.

I believe I've mentioned before that I am a regional sales manager for a medical device company. (My true title is "Vice President of Sales Operations", but that's a tad bit inflated since there isn't really a President of my company. My boss that deemed me VP likes to use big words.). Let me make it clear that I truly love my job and this post is not to complain. It's to muddle through my honest confusion as to how I got here.

Much like my car history, as well as my house history, I was a job gypsy. I had two long standing jobs before my current job: Target from '92-'96 (my high school and early college job) and Luna Pizza (my post college "what the fuck was I thinking getting a Bachelor's degree in Social Work" job) from '99-'03 and then again from mid '04-'06. In between these jobs, and even during my Luna's years, I did a million other things from owning a pet sitting company, to substitute teaching, to beer and liquor promotions, to even waiting on tables at Hooters...I was a jack of many trades. I would love to say that I was experimenting to truly see what I wanted to do as a career, but that would be bullshit. The fact of the matter is that I always got bored. I always needed a new challenge, and if it wasn't challenging enough, I moved on.

In late '05, I found sales in the most peculiar way. Medical sales, to be specific, and how I found it was by hurting my knee, getting fit for a knee brace by my now boss, and being being offered a job out of the blue. In the right place at the right time, I suppose. Usually this makes outsiders get all wide eyed with envy when they find out what I do and say something along the lines of, "OMG!! HOW did you get in that business?? Did you know someone?? That's GREAT money!! Are you hiring?".

Yes, it's a great job and it can be great money but let me bust up the myth: It's stressful and it's HARD work to make good money. You have to pay your dues. I'll be honest, my first couple of paychecks were not more than a few hundred dollars each, and we only got paid once a month. It was a struggle. It's definitely not a cake job like the stigma suggests.

Now that I made my little public service annoucement, I'll attempt to get to my point.

Last week, I had to go to Miami to work on closing a huge account within a big hospital system in that area. I have never worked with a big hospital system. Or CEOs of any kind. Or directors of every hospital department. It was a bit intimidating, to say the least.

My first day down there I had a meeting with my manager, my representative from that area and about 11 hospital executives. My heart was pounding when I walked into that little conference room. I could feel a tiny panic attack brewing. I felt out of my league. I felt unqualified. I felt inadequate. The only thought running through my head was, "how did I get here??".

But then, somewhere in that 60 minutes, I felt....confidence. I felt empowered. I felt...proud of myself. Actually, I felt proud of every woman at that table. There were only 3 men at that table of execs and 8 women. That felt amazing. We run our households, have babies, take care of our husbands...and we run companies. We're all executives, of sorts, at this table. I am in upper management of a medical device company. Holy shit. Albeit only a year and 2 months into management, I earned this. I must be doing something right.

And then I thought back to 8 years ago when I was waiting on tables and struggling to make ends meet. If someone would have asked me where I saw myself in 8 years, I could have never imagined this would be the answer. This was never my life long dream or even something I truly was aspiring for. I never longed for that "career woman" life. I was always pretty ok with mediocrity in my job, as long as I made decent money and was somewhat happy.

Yes, this job originally fell into my lap, but you know what? I worked my ass off for where I am. That's how I got here. I may still be learning management and evolving within my career, but I'm here and I deserve it.

If it sounds like I'm tooting my own horn, that's ok with me.

Now ask me if I said one single word in that meeting of 11 execs. The answer is no, I let my boss do it. Hey, I just learned how to be proud of myself. I'm still working on this confidence building thing.

I'm 34 and I still need my mommy (and daddy).

It's been no secret through my writing that I am a mama's and daddy's girl. I've chatted about it on several posts about me being an only child, therefore being enmeshed very close with my parents.I've never been overly independent from them, honestly. I always want to be near them, because, well, they're my best friends and aside from Dustin, they know me best. ::: hearing the psychologists screaming at their computer screens as they read this: 'UNHEALTHY!!", "BOUNDARIES, WOMAN, BOUNDARIES"::::

Well, that's just the way we are. We're a small family and we stay close. They take care of me and I like to think in some ways we take care of them, too.

This week has been absolute hell for me and I have never needed my parents more. No, not even when Lily was first born.

It started last Wednesday. While I was working, I noticed that my right eye was annoying me, to the point of feeling like a headache IN my eye. It hurt to look around, and even blink. It definitely hurt to the touch. I didn't think much of it, not even when it turned into what I thought to be a sinus headache...and then a fever. I just assumed I was getting a sinus infection, again, like I do every few months.
By 4pm my fever was 102 and my head was in pretty severe pain. I never have experienced a migraine but I assumed this to be something similar. The pain was all around my eyes, creating a mohawk in the center of my skull and reached the base of my neck, radiating into my shoulder blades.
I began to get a little nervous about all of this pain so I asked my dad to stick around, who had been helping my mom watch Lily the majority of the afternoon, until Dustin got home from work. By 11pm, when Dustin got home, I demanded to be taken to the emergency room because the pain was so intense.

Of course, my dad stayed, without question.

Six hours, one CT scan, one spinal tap and two blood tests later, I had no answers about my condition and was sent home with antibiotics.

To make a very long, boring story short, I had to go back to the ER on Saturday because the pain worsened and went to my GP on Monday. Still, no real answers aside from "it's a virus and it has to run it's course".

So, here I lay, STILL, almost seven days later. The pain is about 30% better but I still can't seem to stay on my feet too long before I feel like I might pass out. I have been almost completely out of commission aside from my work laptop being by my side to get some email work done. The best I've felt in the past 7 days was after the second ER trip. They pumped me full of fluids and an anti inflammatory drug and I felt like a new person that evening. Unfortunately, that same drug in a pill form did nothing except for make me extremely nauseated and the pain was actually worse on Sunday. I'm beyond frustrated and have new compassion for anyone who experiences chronic migraines or who has ever had a debilitating virus or illness. I don't have time for this shit. I need to get better and get back to my life.

However, my revelation has been about my amazing support system. Dustin has been amazing, of course, and has stepped up to doing everything necessary in the house and taking care of Lily.
Then, there are my parents. They cook, they clean, and they are here at the drop of a hat. Who has support like that outside of their spouses?? I am so thankful. I truly don't know what we would have done without them this past week. Dustin would have had to miss so much work and we certainly would not be so well fed. My mother even had to endure taking me to my doctor's appointment on Monday while I was all doped up on Xanax, babbling about how scary this is and how I basically wanted to die right then and there. God, love her. I know I was probably worrying them, too.

Yes, this too shall pass, I know, but in the trenches, it sucks ass. It truly does, and viruses are scary. Whoever said that "you don't have anything if you don't have your health" was so right...except, it's times like these that I truly appreciate my family from a different perspective. My family is the true definition of just that: family. They rally when times get tough and nothing compares to that.

Thanks, mom and dad. Thanks for always taking care of your "baby".

Introducing Stan.

"Hi. I'm Stan, a 16 week old American Bulldog".

 

Ok, so he really wouldn't say that if he could talk. It would be more like, "Huh? Is someone talkin to me? Doe dee doe". Not that he's dumb, he's just lazy. Seriously. Laziest puppy I have ever met, which suits me just fine. Eats and drinks laying down. No joke.

Here is the story of how Stan became our newest addition...

One Saturday morning, we received our local newspaper on our driveway. This was obviously by mistake because, well, we don't read the paper. I will forever blame our neighbor, Jack, for us buying this dog. That was supposed to be Jack's paper.

We have been wanting a dog since Bear passed away but I've been trying to restrain myself for the mere fact that toddler+puppy+working mommy and daddy= more exhaustion than necessary. But, low and behold, there was an ad in the paper (ZOMG, WITH A PICTURE!!!) for a litter of American Bulldogs.

"Hmmm", I thought, "Those are the cutest dogs and they are so good. Maybe I should look into this breed". (I based this thought of of our neighbors at our old house who had one. Patch, was her name, and she was so sweet and so cute.)

I immediately asked Dustin if we could go look at them. I truly just wanted to expose Lily to the idea of a puppy since she is not too keen on dogs in general. I had zero intentions of buying one. Zero.

"NO. If we go look I will want one, so no way". His answer was final, but I still began researching this breed, you know, just in case.

Then...

3 days later. Lily went for a walk with my aunt and my mom and saw a few "goggies". She was intrigued by them this time and started asking, "Where did goggies go???", as soon as she got home from that walk, and asked this for 3 days straight.

"Babe! This is a perfect time to go look at a dog! She's interested", I said on Tuesday, just three days after the newspaper incident.

Long story short, Dustin consented and we packed Lily up and took her to see the litter of pups. Only it wasn't a litter. Stan was the last one. He was $150. His paws were huge. He was clumsy and lazy.  I mention all of this because this was the EXACT way that Bear happened upon my life. Same.exact.scenario. So, of course, THIS WAS A SIGN. Isn't that the way the universe works?? Signs?? Of course it is. In my world.

We stayed and played with Stan for about 30 minutes. Lily did so well with him which really surprised us. Dustin was ready to take him home, like, right then and there. Me, not so much. I was honestly just using this as a gage IF we should decide to get a puppy.

But...then there were all of those signs. Maybe we should get him? 

So, we put a deposit down on him and said we would think about it, but as I looked at Dustin on the way home, his mind was already made up. He was so excited. I was, too, but I had this mini voice in my head saying, "You're a fucking moron. A puppy is like having a newborn child. Do not do this right now". That voice was pretty harsh...but...Dustin looked so happy and excited. He wanted a dog that was his. Bear was never his. He was already smitten.

So, the next day, Dustin went and picked him up. The "breeders" (I use that term loosely because that whole house/situation was very odd and chaotic, to say the least) were calling him "Kyzan", which we weren't a fan of, so we named him something that rhymed with it since he appeared to be responding to it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's been two weeks and it's been...interesting. He's a good puppy. He's very smart. He's respectful of Lily. He's learning his place quickly. But he is a puppy.

He chews on everything. He has separation anxiety from Dustin so he spends his nights with me whining, barking and pissing all over the place. He's lazy, which can be a good thing, but I really wish he liked walks. Oh, and....he's not Bear. He makes me miss Bear more, which is the exact opposite of what I thought would happen. This too shall pass and I will grow to love him and bond with him. I know this, but right now we're in the trenches. 

Do I regret the decision? Not really, only because I do believe in the cliche that everything happens for a reason, but I do wish we would have waited about a year so we weren't dealing with an almost-two-year-old and a puppy, but hey, they'll grow up together and be best friends (I hope). She is already loving bossing him around, which is a plus, right?

More pictures to come, along with plenty of "adventures with Stan" stories.

Oh, and in case anyone was wondering, I'm pretty sure that this experience has pushed us from, "we're not sure if we're going to have a second kid", to, "there is no way in hell that we're having a second kid". Judge away. I'm too tired to add more work to this mix.

If you want to know where I've really been...

So, I claim to be busy, and I am, but let's face it, I have at least 2 hours of free time every night after I put Lily to bed, before I go to bed. I would love to be blogging more, but...

Verizon got the Iphone.

Angry Birds. (See Heir to Blair's post here for a further explanation. She said it best.)

Words With Friends.

I am addicted.

That is all.

Well hello, neglected blog.

It's been a crazy couple of weeks, most of which I will blog about later, but for now....

We lost a very wonderful family member, my (great) Uncle Roy. He had been battling with cancer for almost 10 years and it was his time. My father put it best when he said that he is happy for him. He truly was suffering and it was no way to live.

Uncle Roy will always be remembered in my mind as humorous, clumsy, caring, generous man with a knack for telling stories. He loved the Cubs and his comfy chair. His house smelled of tobacco (the sweet, unlit smell), even though he gave up smoking his pipe years ago.  He paled around with my dad often and he loved to show up unannounced. He had a special bond with Bear and loved to feed him table food. He was so loyal and attended every event in my life. He was a proud dad of three, always bragging about his children and grand children. He was a fantastic uncle.

So, Uncle Roy, party with the angels and be pain free...

Christmas 2004 with my Aunt Dorothy.

Christmas 2010.

I was in San Diego when I got this sad news. I got home in time to see each of his kids, my cousins, as they came down to assist my aunt with the necessary process. He wished for no memorial or service so we were left to do our own reminiscing. 

The loss of my uncle was sad, yes, but I know it was his time. His body was tired and with good reason. 

Why it is most sad to me is because it is once again reminding me how incredibly small my family is. Our holiday and birthday meals are getting smaller and smaller, setting fewer and fewer places at meals. That makes me so sad....but also a little scared. I begin to think about my own mortality and of course, my parent's. Still spring chickens, in their late 50's/early 60's, it's just so hard to think of them as "old". Them, or anyone in my family, really.

I'm telling you, a pause button in life would be nice sometimes. 

Rest in peace, Uncle Roy.