Bionic Weasel

First of all, I'd like to say hello again to all of you faithful readers who have stuck around through months of radio silence and welcome to anyone new who may be lurking around.

Secondly, I'll let you know that all of the Weasels, myself included are happy and healthy.

Now I will get you all up to speed with a World of Weasels update;

Many of you know that a while ago I had gone back to work to help make ends meet in Weaselville.  That greatly impacted the time I had to devote to this blog and also the mojo to have anything of entertainment value to share.

Well there is good news to report.  I am no longer out there in the work force, nor will I be working for the foreseeable future.  Yee-Haw!  It feels good to wake up in the morning and not have that commitment on my shoulders.

However, the bad news is that I still need the job and the income desperately, I'm just unable to work ----doctors orders.

No, I didn't get hurt at work nor, was I  involved in a car accident.  I didn't even manage to slip on a banana peel or anything that entertaining.  I just managed to magically herniate TWO previously perfectly healthy disks in my neck (C5-C6, C6-C7) and those disks decided to lodge themselves directly into my spinal cord.   Where they subsequently cut off the vast amount of spinal fluid flow.

Now I know you all well enough to know (yes, even you new comers) that you are saying to yourselves ----YIKES! (hopefully complete with a sign held up in the manner of Wile E. Coyote, because that would add entertainment value) and yikes is right.

My first visit with the NueroSurgeon went like this;

Him: When was the last time you lost control of you bladder or bowls?

Me:  The last time a heard a really good joke or I sneezed.  I have had 6 kids, after all.

Him: (chuckle, chuckle, look of bewilderment)

Me: Ummm, you seem surprised that I'm not incontinent.

Him: I am.  I'm also surprised that you are still able to walk.

As was every other doctor that saw my MRI results. I unknowingly had been days or hours away from permanent spinal cord damage from my neck down.  I'll let you do the math n that one.

That led us into surgery to rebuild me bigger, faster, stronger.  In your face Lidsey Wagner!  Well not really, but they did rebuild me with titanium and synthetics.  I can walk and talk (although my voice is still weak and raspy for the time being).  I am recovering nicely and enjoying a life that, for now, is free of work, cooking cleaning, lifting, driving, laundry and every other part of mommyhood that we all wish we could take a break from.  So don't feel sorry for me, I'm on vacation.

It will be a long and slow recovery, but one in which that I am grateful for.  It is much better than the alternative would have been.  In the meantime, I am back and better than ever!  For that too I am grateful.

In lieu of 'get well soon' flowers, just send some Coors Light.

Something Important To Write

 Finally.  Just when I thought that work and life had completely stolen my writing mojo, I was given a very important writing assignment to complete.  It may even be my proudest work to date, because it comes directly from my soul.

Dear Eldest Weasel,
     I love you.  I've loved you from the first moment that the doctor surprised me with the news that you were growing within me and I got to see the pure, unadulterated look of joy on Dad's face when I shared the news with him.

     You gave me the best gift that I have ever received and the one that I most cherish.  You made me a mom.  Holding you for the very first time overwhelmed me, in that I never I had never seen a sight as beautiful as your eyes and instantly knew a love more powerful than I ever knew could exist.  Thank you.
   
     Watching you grow and learn have brought me more happiness than could be summed up into simple words.  From your first smile to the toddler streaking down Elbur Avenue, "The Great Lipstick Incident of 1995", wrapping your arms around Dad and I and calling us 'your guys' and reading Go Dog Go to me when you were 4 because you wanted to make me feel better when I had the flu, to the way we held each other the day your sister died, watching you succeed academically, socially and competitively, your strength of character, responsibility,  amazing sense of humor and the way that you will want to correct this run on sentence and hand it back to me, all bring a smile to my face, a warmth in my heart and a pride of my daughter.  These are all memories that I thank you for giving me and that I carry with me always.

       You have grown from my baby girl into an exceptional young woman.  Your accomplishments, maturity and the person you have have grown to be amaze me.  I have so much love for you and couldn't be more proud of you.  Soon you will be leaving home to start your own life venture.  Know that I have the utmost confidence that you will soar, continue to learn, grow and make me proud.  Most of all, know how much I love you and that Dad and I will always be 'your guys'.

Roadtripin' Weasels

Ah, the open road in a closed up minivan filled with 4 of the Weasel Children, both of their parents, countless hamburger wrappers and the smell of burning diesel or did Boy Weasel forget to shower this morning? , for a 10 hour cross country haul to Grandmother's house we went.

* Yes, We left 17 year old Eldest Weasel......home alone because she had to sing and dance to Bob Seger in her underwear through the house work obligations.

The extended family time in the car gave plenty of opportunity for Mr. Weasel and I to pass down generational traditions, such as yelling, "Stop poking your sister", "Keep your hands to yourself", and even the grand pooba of family road trip cliche phrases, "Don't Make Me Turn This Car Around!". 

At one point I threatened to leave Smallest Weasel on the side of the turnpike if she asked "How much longer until we get there?" one more time in the next 10 minutes (This question had been posed by her approximately every 5 minutes since the first hour in the car).

Speaking of the turnpike, around hour 6, just when I am starting to get punchy, I usually don't get stabby until around hour 9.  while cruising through Ohio, heading east mind you, Mr. Weasel and I spot this:

Sorry that it is sideways, but notice that it says SEA-CHI right above the pronouncement of U.S. Mail.  This guy missed his exit 6 hours and 2 states ago!  This clears up so many questions about the U.S.P.S.  It's a wonder we ever get any of our mail.  Anyway, I found the sight amusing and thought that I would share it with you.

We don't get out to my in-laws part of the country very often, but when we do it is nice because not only do we get to visit family, but being only 10 minutes from where Mr. Weasel and I met in college, we get to see many old friends who still live in the area.

Along with the added bonus of my brother in law and his family being in town town simultaneously, we had lunches and dinners with old friends, attended another friends wedding, where we ran into many more blasts from the past.

Sunday morning it was time for Mr. Weasel and I to pack up the car and head home.  The Weasels would stay on and have their own special vacation with their grandparents.  It just so happened to be our 18th anniversary and we decided to drive home, via Cleveland, to do what else........have lunch and visit with yet some more old college friends.  Lunch turned into dinner.  Dinner turned into an overnight stay.

The next morning we continued our relaxing trek home, stopping for outlet mall shopping and eventually dinner, when a thought had come to me; We had not planned a special anniversary trip or organized any formal plans to see the people we did.  We just had a date and location for a wedding that turned into the ultimate reunion with both family, friends and each other.  I couldn't have planned a trip this good if I had actually planned it.

9 Years Post Apocalypse

It's been nearly 9 years since that fateful morning that Mr. Weasel and I awoke to find our entire world crumbling down around us.  In one brutally swift moment in time, life as we knew it was over.

It was apocalyptic.

Just one short week prior, all had been right with the world.  The doctors had given our brand new baby girl a clean bill of health and we would take her home from the hospital the following day.

Mr. Weasel and I left the NICU during the evening shift change to have a dinner at home with our other children for the first time in a week.  A week that had been filled with fear, anxiety and many more questions than answers.  Yet, we had emerged from that week victorious; I had 5 healthy children, a loving husband and father and a happy home that we would soon bring our newest addition, Claire, into for the first time. 

Anxious to be away from Claire's bedside, I headed back into the car, after a simple meal and a quick visit, for the 40 minute drive back to the hospital.  The sun was shining, the sky had been almost as beautiful as her blue eyes and a warm June breeze drifted through the air.

I was possibly the happiest that I have ever been.

I cranked up the radio in the minivan and sang along with a smile that you couldn't have smacked off my face as Steven Tyler belted out words that surely had been written for me and this exact moment in time. I couldn't wait to get back to Claire and I sure didn't want to miss a thing.   A song that unbeknownst to me, was foreshadowing what was soon to come, the theme song to Armageddon.


A mere 8 days later, it happened.  Death, like a thief in the night, had stolen our beautiful baby girl away from us.  Our world ended.

Armageddon.

However, 9 years later, I am here to say that we have survived.  We lived through the trauma, crawled through the rubble, hid in the trenches and sought refuge with fellow survivors.

Though not nearly as stoic, triumphant or glamorous as Hollywood blockbusters with end of the world themes,  We Have Survived.  

Starting from scratch, we began to rebuild our world amidst the fallout.  We slowly regained hope and kept our family huddled close.  There were countless dark days before we ever felt the warmth of the sun on our faces.

Yes, I still long for the world that once was; the innocence, simplicity and luxury of naivety that we once lived, but that world is gone forever.  We live in a new world now.  We've found a 'new normal', and for all of the negatives that we have come through, it's not without positives.  We love deeper, cherish stronger, prioritize better, and appreciate everyday together more sincerely than we ever have before.

Tomorrow, I will bake cupcakes and buy balloons.  All of the Weasels will pile into the minivan and we will head to the cemetery for a somber birthday celebration, as we hold tight the gifts that Claire left behind for us.  Gifts that were tools that carried us through the worst of times; Love, Hope and Joy.

You'll Go Blind

Every teenage boy throughout the ages has heard the old accolade of "You'll go blind!", most likely from his mother at some point in time.

However, there is not one documented incidence of man, nor boy, having ever permanently lost his vision for failure to heed his mother's repeated warnings.

You may ask yourself, "Why on earth would a mother make up such an atrocious lie to scare her offspring away from such behavior?".  After all, mother's are supposed to be nurturing, loving caretakers put in place to guide their children through the process of learning, growth and maturity.

As a mother, I am here to give you the honest to God, bottom line answer to that question and to eradicate any confusion on the topic of if this act of self can actually endanger your vision.

And that answer is

----------Drum Roll Please------------

Your Mother  wasn't trying to outright lie to you.  It's just that "You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!" was already taken.