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Monday, August 23, 2010

Dead Mall

It has occurred to me of late that I just do not post. I don't write. I don't even think about it. I remember when things would happen, or someone in my world would say something and I simply could NOT wait to "belly up to the bar" and regurgitate all I knew. There was a time when I often felt like I was on the prowl for a good cookie post. It wasn't as forced as that sounded. Things just happened and I blogged about it. Now...

Yeah, yeah, okay. Things still happen. But I just don't see these things as bloggable anymore. I'm VERY happy to report that Ellie is doing quite well. I guess that was the catalyst for my thoughts warping into overdrive about my lack of productivity where the blogging is concerned. I found I was so OTT (rightfully so) with concern for her well-being that it simply engulfed my world. As with all things I take on, there is no "half-assed" for me. It's go big or go home. I'm all in. Thus, I've become the homemade dog food goddess. I've put in hours and hours of research. Taken that research and implemented my findings into finished products. I've tweaked, and molded, and come up with new recipes based on her preferences. I've portioned, and packaged, and labeled. Then, right smack dab between Wild Alaskan salmon and overcooked rice and sweet potatoes, it occurred to me; that's it. There's the thing. Life, as a mother, has changed for me and I'm in denial about it.

I've been getting comments from friends about how they don't even feed their kids that well and it suddenly occurred to me; Oh God...I didn't do this for MY kids either! The well-known saying around this house was; "Hey, this isn't a restaurant and I'm not a short-order cook, so you'll eat what I put in front of you, or you'll starve!" My kids lived in fear of looking like depression era waifs if they didn't eat what I made for them. I never had to worry about the clean plate club even though I never prescribed to that notion. But that's another story and one I probably blogged about, oh, maybe 8 years ago. The point is, and here's where I'm going to get emotional; my babies aren't babies anymore. They're :::gasp::: ADULTS.

When I started this blog back in March of 2003, some of you may remember that I called it "The Abyss". It was an attempt to stay sane while I raised three children. It was my therapy while I tried to find a balance between who I was, and what I did. To keep my identity and self while still embracing that I was Charlie's wife, and ABC's mother. That there was so much more to me that I feared would be lost in the shuffle. In that quest, I found that motherhood wasn't the desert landscape and bottomless pit that I, at that time, envisioned it to be.

The moments of brevity, the jewels of innocent wisdom that these wonderous creatures taught me, all became part of the new blog my dear friend Toddy would tell me was like having warm cookies with a whiskey chaser. I saw things in a whole new way. We grew together, all of us. Not just me and the kids, but my friends "out there" as well. You watched these "kids" grow into adulthood with me.

It seems, almost as suddenly as it happened, it stopped. Everything felt like it happened in the same moment. I know that's not how it was, but it felt that way. The shop closed. My world stopped. But the kids world kept spinning. There have been those times and events where I have thought.."That's funny! I'm gonna blog that." But I didn't. I don't quite know when the desire to write left me. But I do know that life didn't stop happening. Averie is soon to be 25, Caris will be 23, and in October, The Grommet will be (good grief!) 21.

The truth is, they are truly living their own lives. It's what we worked for, Charlie and I. To bring them to that place where they get to the gate at the end of the playground path, and walk through it into the world. We're pretty much there, and so they aren't home much. There's a lot of Charlie and me time, which is wonderful and something we've looked forward to, but for me, it's a big change.

It's like going to a dead mall. The ones you see where the economy has closed shop doors (like House of Tiki) and there are just a few, sporadic shops still hanging in there, but just barely. Where once there was the hustle bustle of kid biz, there is now a kind of quiet and our two voices sometimes bounce off the walls. As a result, I guess I've poured all my motherly effort into the fuzzy kid that's still at home all the time. I didn't really realize it until Charlie made a comment about how serious I was into making Ellie's meals. He was impressed, and yet all I could think was..."But, this isn't anything new. I've been doing this Mommy thing for nearly 25 years now." That's when the lights went on. I've been having the early aches of empty nest syndrome. Which makes me wonder if I need to change the name of my blog again to accommodate this new stage of my life. I do know one thing I don't need to wonder about, and that would be what Ellie's having for dinner. :)

Wednesday, August 04, 2010

Spoke Too Soon

I should have been a bit more cautiously optimistic. I shouldn't have let myself get too relieved or excited that she was home. I didn't want to think of the hell we went through 5 years ago. But suddenly, I feel myself back there. Ellie is back in the hospital.

She was doing well for two days. Then this morning, she refused food. All food. Even my homemade chicken and rice that she has been enjoying. She refused water. I tried this morning, but she just went to the bedroom, got on our bed, and remained there the rest of the day. Caris tried again while I was at work, with no result. No food, no water. When I got home, I called the doctor. He said to bring her in.

We hoped that it was just a reaction to the antibiotics. Maybe they were upsetting to her fragile digestive tract. I hoped beyond hope that it was an "easy fix". Too much to ask, I guess. She was in pain. She had a fever. He said he wanted to do another ultrasound. Ten minutes later, he came back and said that her pancreas was inflamed again and the fever indicates there might be a secondary infection. This is a recurring nightmare in our world. I just don't understand. We've done everything so right this time. Still, our girl is back in the hospital with an IV stuck in her little leg again. Even though the doctor says he believes she'll be "okay", I can't help but worry. Mostly, I hurt for her and I feel so very helpless.