Tuesday, August 30, 2011


Last weekend we drove to Big Bear and went camping. After a long drive up the mountain, we found a very cool place to hike. After getting out of the car and walking up the hill, Froggy said, "We've arrived at our destiny!"

After dinner the other night, we stopped at a store for coffee. Froggy found saw a toy, picked it up and said, "Well that got caught in my eye!" I think she meant, 'that caught my eye.' But I like her expression better. Very visceral.

Froggy is really picking up on wordplay and puns. I couldn't be more proud! The other day she put a slinky on her arm and said, "It's armor! Get it? Arm--or?" Yeah, we got it kiddo!

A bedtime conversation:

Me: Froggy, it's time for bed.
Froggy: Really Mom, really? I expected more from you!

Sissysnuggiekins (Froggy's sister) is a model now. She's been traveling around the world and has become quite successful. While talking to Froggy's Grandma, I asked her where Sissysnuggiekins was. Froggy picked up on the conversation and said, "New York, Paris, Hamsterdam?" Hamsterdam!

While drinking a diet ginger ale the other day, Froggy asked if she could have a sip. I said, "No, it's not good for kids, it's diet." Froggy replied, "Is it called die-et, cause you die from it?" Yikes, didn't really want to have the aspertame conversation. Maybe she's onto something.

While at Big Bear, we walked into a very cool toy story. Froggy walked in and immediately found a big bin of stuffed animals. She already has a million, and I am not keen on buying her more. She found a meer cat and asked if I would buy it for her. When I replied 'no' she said, "So we came here for nothing!" The woman who owned the store almost peed her pants.

Friday, August 12, 2011

She's ALIVE!!!

It's been a while since I've spilled my guts.

Sometimes when writing, I think about the bloody visual of words; guts exposed, an open rib cage on a table, a disgusting but honest display of our insides; the innards of a person; a life, a marriage, a divorce.

I see a surgery where parts are taken out and placed in a kidney-shaped pan. Scissors and clamps are passed around, quiet murmurs of 'hand me this' and 'hand me that,' with some blame and bleeding, but in the end, the patient taking in new breath. Chest rising and falling. Day after day. Because it's necessary.

Catgut sews up the wounds of a sentence, piecing together the fragments of a paragraph, a life. And somehow, somehow when I look down at the table of all the pieces apart, a person suspended above their own surgery, the body dissected, I see the whole story.

Words thrown into the air - a Scrabble game knocked over, letters falling to the floor, forming a jabberwocky that suddenly makes sense. And I know.

What took place in the subtext of our anatomy, what fell apart.

Organs starved of oxygen. Pieces, although scattered, are still alive, red, beating, In a new body, a new life. Miraculously, the patient survives.

For the first time. In a long time. I am excited. To wake up. To take in a deep breath of this new life. Whole, pink and thriving.

Tuesday, August 02, 2011

Neurology Update

Froggy's neurologist called and said that indeed her EEG was normal. I was so happy that I forgot to be angry about how they screwed up and thought it wasn't. Apparently she had 'normal' spikes on the EEG because of the type of sleep she was in. They were higher than normal brain waves, but it was normal for sleep cycle. So, we can start tapering off her seizure meds. So from good news to bad news, back to good news again - tis never a dull moment.