Maybe not the best idea...

We will start with a picture from a lifetime ago.

Maybe not a LIFETIME... but man does it sure feel that way sometimes.

For a few years after college, I didn't even ride my bike. I cried when I sold it before we moved to California, but I hadn't put any miles on it in years.
So, when my birthday present last year turned out to be that Pete and I found a DEAL on barely used mountain bikes at a local shop, I was PSYCHED!!! We had been talking about me getting back to riding for our entire marriage but I had always copped out... because if I wanted to spend my day doing something, I wanted it to be with Pete and Ursa, so we hiked, and climbed and camped, and geocached... but no biking. UNTIL! Last August when we got our new old bikes.
Every moment off the rest of the summer and into winter we were on them. We rode downtown. We rode in a nearby traily park. We rode to work.

Skip forward a bit and cue... dramatic complicated pregnancy, near death experience, death of a child.

I was SOOOO excited at my two week appointment when the doc said I could start SLOWLY doing LIGHT workouts. I really felt like I had to be moving to start feeling like a normal person again... especially after months of restricted activity, doctors, ER visits, etc. Then she clarified by asking my workout of choice. "I like to ride bikes..." I said casually.
She cringed. "Yeah, you could ride... a stationary bike in the gym... slowly. But you can't do hills yet and its going to be a while before bumps are comfortable."

AND THEN!! I got permission to return to normal activity at 61/2 weeks post deathbed. (I don't know that the doctor would have granted it had he any idea what MY definition of normal activity is) But he did. And I ran with it. Literally.... I think I was on the treadmill that very night.
I went back to work, we did light rides on the greenways. I would enjoy them but realize that... unfortunately, I still feel like I just had major surgery at times.

But, a month ago... I saw a sign near the elevators in the parking garage. It was a poster advertising the "ride for hope" benefiting CASA. Already intrigued as I am familiar with CASA and the amazing work they do, I read more thoroughly. And then I saw the route: Gold camp road.

Gold camp is Pete and I's go to for anything recreational. We've camped, climbed, geocached, photographed, dogwalked, biked, searched for water, grilled, had campfires, and dreamed of further adventures along many different parts of this historic road leading from Colorado Springs to the old gold mining area in Victor, CO.

So, I do what many wives do when they want to get an idea in their husband's head without truly... proposing it. I hinted... coyly... "So, last night in the elevators I saw a sign for a charity ride to benefit CASA. And guess what the route was: super cool idea... Gold camp. From bear creek park to victor."

I didn't expect such immediate, definitive response. "Let's do it. That will be awesome."

So, in a few short hours, we will be embarking on a 38.8 mile uphill journey via bicycle. I'm pretty sure its longer than I've ever gone before. And while not technical at all, I know its the least amount of downhill relaxing time I've every had.

And to think, just 5 months ago, I was nearly dead.
I don't think I'll be back at that point tomorrow.... but I do assure you... I am riding for completion, not speed. I have figured out just how many miles I HAVE to go per hour in order to finish before they clear the course (and its not fast, so I'm confident I can at least finish).

I was never the most impressive or competitive on the cycling team... but I was there. And I did finish every race I started (including Albuquerque, where I cracked three ribs on the course practicing the night before). But this... this will be a feat to brag about. Maybe not in the accomplished cyclists list, but most definitely in mine.

Wish us luck, and I'll let you know how it goes tomorrow!!!

...and for you... a footspa!

This line has been a long standing joke towards rewarding anyone who has done anything slightly awesome.

You see, the story goes, that while living in England, Pete and his mom used to listen to a radio programme (it was England afterall) on the way to school each morning. Each day, the hosts would ask a trivia question or hold some various contest.
Upon having a caller correctly answer the trivia, they would win a fabulous prize! A footspa!!!!

So... as I said, anytime someone has done anything awesome, we say to each other, and for you... a footspa!!

Skip forward to tonight. I was having an immature moment complaining about how we have to do everything the hard way... whine whine whine, etc.
So Peter tries his hardest to calm me down, aka shut me up. He first suggests that I sit down in my jammies and do Rosetta Stone. Great idea... except I just had an epic day at work. And I am not up for learning Spanish right this moment.
But then!!! He comes up with a most excellent idea.
He suggests I take a hot shower, paint my toenails and have a little pampering evening. Now there is a fabulous idea.
So I ran some hot water in the laundry sink with some bath salts, soaked my feet... used the manicure supplies Heidi bought me while I was in the hospital... put a mask on my face....
Ahhhhh.... it was delightful.

It is easy to get all wound up into a horrible place about all that has happened. As Peter admitted mid "cheer up Lia" session... we have been "kicked in the balls a few times."
So now, as the hospital bills loom and the car approaches 200k miles... AND needs new tires. And I spend time with my husband one night every two weeks because of how our work schedules coincide... and....
oh it doesn't matter.
Maybe we really do live some life where we have to do everything the hard way. Maybe. BUT!!!! That is probably an exageration.
And even if its not, lying down in defeat will not help anything.
So we will get up again tomorrow and do some more. Easy, hard, medium... however it comes at us.

And when it starts to feel a little too hard, there is always the footspa.

Why I have nothing to say

"if you don't have anything nice to say... don't say anything at all."

What a nice little lesson from Bambi.

So while I feel compelled to write this evening, I'm shutting down blogger and turning to my good old fashioned journal. Because that is a safe place for the vile, bitter things I am thinking right now. Spew it all out without thinking about how it will make the web world feel.

So good night web world. I hope you are all safe and warm and cuddly on this beautiful evening.

And in the words of Garrison Keillor, "Be well, do good work, and keep in touch."

For my friend...

So I had this friend in college. She was my RA freshman year, we remained friends... since she was older she went off and got married, and while still in town, we grew apart. And then I ran off and got married... and moved away. And apparently she moved too. Our friendship was such a... fleeting moment in time that I can't find a picture of the two of us... I know they exist, but on a disc somewhere in a box somewhere... I found this one that I stole from Lindsey's facebook. Thanks Lindsey!!!

And then she had a baby. At 27 weeks... due to pre-eclampsia. And I saw the... mayhem via facebook. The NICU, the prayers, the struggles, the day that the little one went home from the hospital. 

So when my post... that fateful early march day to the facebook world included that I was in the in the hospital with pre-eclampsia, she was all over it. She called, she emailed, she facebooked... trying to get in touch with me. She did a darn good job... I just had constant visitors so I declined the call from an unknown number. Now I know better.

She blogged about how she needed everyone she knew to pray for me. She emailed me every day.

And when I sent that sad news email to the world... she kept praying. She kept in touch. She told me how much she admired my strength and assured me I was doing well... that she couldn't imagine my pain.

So... skip ahead a few weeks and she announces... they are expecting their second child!!! Very exciting!!!

And then, one month ago today, she nearly died due to severe complications... and her son, was born still. 

I've been thinking of her all today. Remembering what that first month marker was like. I looked back and noticed I didn't post much. I held back, kept it... short.

It was a hard one. It was the first afterall. And it was just near the point where I came out of the fog of "what just happened?"... that shock phase of grief. And in shaking off shock, the anger and fear and bitterness came rushing in. I remember throwing a tantrum about nothing. No seriously.... NOTHING. It started because I wanted a bagel sandwich, but could not properly direct Pete on where to go in order to get a bagel sandwich. And suddenly, I'm sobbing uncontrollably in the car.

He started to get frustrated with me. But... in a moment of the most pure form of grace, he pulled the car over and he just looked at me quietly for a moment. And then, as soon as he could fit it in between my tears, he asked ever so gently, "Is this really about the bagel sandwich?" And I pretty much yelled, "NO!" sob sob sob... "This is because its the sixth of the month, and what could possibly go right today????" 

He took me home, fixed me breakfast... and I went back to bed. At some point, I felt nice enough to post the blog you can look up from April 6th. I assure you. It says nothing. It was a pleasant mask to cover the most unpleasant of feelings.

I post this because.... well because I feel compelled to truly share that month marker. My friend's own trauma is what brings on the desire. I cannot be sure what her own experiences are... but this is what I know. It doesn't get better by the end of that first month. I will not even speak very highly of month two. In fact, (and I hate to bring this up, knowing my friend is probably reading).... month two... is probably the worst. Because there is no more shock. You can sorta get by on your own physically. And people... its perfectly human and acceptable... people who aren't experiencing what you have: they start to move on. And in the moment that happens, you want to scream at the world, "HEY!!! WAIT!!! My baby just died!!!" But you don't. Mostly out of fear that the world will scream back, "No she didn't... that was a whole month ago. Move on..." 

YEESH! I started this blog to bring truth to that month marker. And here I am blabbing on about how the month marker isn't even the worst. (So let me back track to remind you that the markers are never as bad as the day it all actually happened)

But here is where it goes... in not that long...

In some ways, not a lot has changed. I still have moments where the anger and bitterness rushes in. There are still times where sadness and tears threaten to suffocate me. I still have the occasional, "Tantrum"

BUT!!!! These moments are farther between. For the most part, I can save these moments for quiet time rather than breaking down unexpectedly in public. I can see people with babies. I can walk past baby stuff in the store. The callous is building up. Things still get to me but not as often or as sharply as before.

Hang in there friend. Don't focus on the fact that people seem to be getting back to life as before... remember that they still love you immensely, they think about you often and cannot imagine your pain... but continue praying for you all the same. 

It does get better. Its gets better in spurts and then there is a bad moment or day... but every day you get up is a day you are moving forward whether it feels like it or not.

This is not an experience where you can eventually go back to the way things were. But you can... embrace where you are in grief and let it mold you. You are strong... and faithful... and life will go on. And you will function at continually higher ability all the while knowing of the hole in your heart from your loved little boy. 

And I'm here when you are ready. But until then... I will just continue blogging about the few things I know to be true.

Quotes of the day week two and other random musings by Lia.

So, since the quotes of the day lat week, where I passive aggressively made fun of my customers and staff was such a hit... we will do it again!! Just kidding. But if there is one thing this blog needs, its a little humor. And there was a bit of it this past week of work.

Tuesday July 12. Day of the Rodeo parade in Colorado Springs which goes... RIGHT by our restaurant. Hence, we get slammed before the parade, we twiddle our thumbs during the parade, and we get slammed after the parade. This happens for every Colorado Springs parade and no matter how much we prepare, we always get killed. So I'm explaining the "plan" for the night with the servers, be busy, be slow, be busy, etc. And one of my servers says, "Ohh... so you are going to keep first off's until after the parade ENDS?" I say yes. He says, "See, we were just talking and we were thinking, you should start sidework during the parade because it will BE SO SLOW and then we can clock out.... and run from here before you get slammed after the parade."
I smile and reply back, "Well, that is a great idea.... however, this is not, as the saying goes, My first rodeo."

Wednesday and Thursday I was off, no quotes of day.

Friday, July 15. I tell one of the other managers about how our opening server always walks in a greets me with, "OH MY GOD! LIA! I AM SO PISSED OFF!!!!" He just laughs and says, "Oh... hmm, yeah, We don't have those girl talk moments when her and I open together." Server doesn't miss a beat before saying, "Well, I used to all the time with Tyler (former GM)..."  We all giggled very immaturely.

Saturday I don't have quotes for because everyone was grumpy... Seriously. Everyone. It was too hot or something because I had more negative feedback about NOTHING this week than I've had in a long time (skip ahead to tuesday)

Sumday, I think there was a quote... I forgot it. I sorta remember a little kid saying something to me that was so hilarious I didn't think I would ever forget... but I didn't write it down, hence... no longer remember.

Monday, one of our servers opted to hang out on our patio quite late with one of our regular customers (off the clock). This is not the first time, and she has been told MULTIPLE times how inconsiderate this is of her coworkers. So, the quote of the day is again from a server, but via pictures:

Tuesday... Lots of tourists and again wicked hot with some grouchy people. So... two quotes, one specifies the grouchy complex Coloradoans have when its over 95.
Written on a comment card: "Your milk is expensive and your pizza is too spicy" Uh.. what? I was kindof glad that there was no contact information left on it, because I have to respond to all comment cards and I don't even know where to begin with this one...
And from three guys that were new to our restaurant: "Do you guys have any questions about the menu?" two guys that are looking at the menu ask a couple questions and we have a pleasant conversation. The guy talking to the cashier (who I thought was already ordering), steps back and says, "What did you say? I'm their interpreter." I kind of stuttered a bit in reply to this, I had just had a conversation with them and they spoke perfect English. So the guy adds, "You see, they are from Kansas. I interpret, that way you don't have to speak so slow."

So, it is my Sunday night. And today was productive. I finished a small sewing project, I tidied the laundry room which was beginning to look like a disorganized walk in closet again. I did some dishes, I planned a dinner (and executed it rather well if I do say so myself), did some laundry... AND!!! Started on the latest renovation project. I'll show off the before photos now. What I will be tackling next is my sewing table. It was a major score when we found it at the ARC in February for $20 but it has always been an eyesore. Its just not pretty.

 This is what it looks like open and all set up.

This is what is looks like all folded up. Notice the outdated dark laminate, the silly detailing on the front door

 And the less than attractive drawer pulls

And the not bad but not great, super simple million in a million furniture feet.
So, I got to work on that today, starting by pulling it all apart, painting the hardware and priming over all the laminate. I am hoping that the turn around on this project won't be too long, because its my sewing table... and I use it! A LOT!!!

Oh, and also Ursa got a new toy. I picked it specifically because it cracked me up.

Its a stuffed flyer saucer, complete with alien that says "take me to your master." Its always a tough choice picking a toy for her because she is very very intent on destroying them but also because there are so many options!! So far, the little ET isn't showing too much damage, though Ursa occasionally gets fixated on tearing off his antennae and I have to distract her with something else.

What gets me through.. lengthy... suck it up or don't read ;)

The other day I was driving home from work when "Jumper" by Third Eye Blind came on. It's a catchy tune...
I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend/ You could cut ties with all the lies, that you've been living in/ And if you do not want to see me again/ I would understand, I would understand/ The angry boy, a bit too insane/ Icing over a secret pain/ You know you don't belong
You're the first to fight/ You're way too loud/ You're the flash of light on a burial shroud/ I know something's wrong
Well, everyone I know has got a reason/ To say put the past away
Wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend/You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in/ And if you do not want to see me again/ I would understand, I would understand
And well, he's on the table/ And he's gone to code/ And I do not think anyone knows/ What they are doing here
And your friends have left you/ You've been dismissed/ I never thought it would come to this/ And I, I want you to know
Everyone's got to face down the demons/ Maybe today we can put the past away
I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend/ You could cut ties with all the lies/ That you've been living in and if you do not want to see me again/ I would understand, I would understand, I would understand
I would understand
I would understand
Understand
Can you put the past away?/ I wish you would step back from that ledge, my friend/ I would understand


I've always liked this song but in more recent past, I've enjoyed it because it reminds me of the movie, "Yes Man." I enjoy the premise of this simple Jim Carrey flick because I think it holds some truth, We move so fast through life that I do think we get busy saying no and miss out on things we would have really enjoyed. But thats another subject entirely. The scene where this song comes up in the movie involves Jim Carrey's character happening upon a complete stranger who is standing at a window ledge threatening to jump. A huge crowd watches from below. Cut to Jim Carrey suddenly in the room behind this man holding a guitar (earlier in the movie, Carrey says "yes" to guitar lessons.) He begins to sing and play along to this Third Eye Blind song. 
Slowly, the crowd joins in and by the end of the song, the man has "stepped back from that ledge my friend," and is safely away from suicide as the first responders start to show up.
Its totally silly. The idea that a complete stranger can end up a spectator in such a situation and do anything, let alone save the man's life seems ridiculous.
But I would suggest that it only seems ridiculous because most of us would not have the guts to attempt such a feat. 
So... this stream of consciousness during my commute compels me to share with you someone who has done just this for me.


Let me interrupt myself to say that, despite all that the last 11 months or so has involved... I have not been close to suicide. Having started with such a powerful song, I feel compelled to assure you that is not how close of a comparison we are making here. So anyway...


Many people have done much to "make me feel better." Everything from pedicures, to new outfits, to chocolate, to cards, to emails, to phone calls.... from every part of the spectrum: family I live with to people I haven't seen in 5+years. 
But there have been a few specific things that have helped the most.
A) Kati. There have been many mentions of Kati in the past and someday there will have to be an Ode to this amazing woman because she is purely amazing...
B) A couple of our regulars at the restaurant who have offered insight far beyond their full knowledge of the situation. But one in particular. I have (er, had, she is currently not employed with us, though the chance of her returning is high) an employee who has a family. Haha, they all have a family, but this particular young lady has a particular family who visits us regularly. They come in after they run the Jack Quin's 5k most Tuesday nights with a whole case of characters. We refer to the whole table as ______'s family, though only a few of them are actually related to her. They celebrated with me when they found out I was having a girl. They encouraged the busser to feed me all sorts of treats because I was too small for how far along I was. And they offered a sympathetic ear when I admitted that I had kept my pregnancy a secret from the staff for much longer than I expected because things were not looking up. 
So it wasn't a huge surprise when one of the cards we received at the funeral was signed, "Much love, the X family, (especially _____ [my server]) 
But returning to work was made just as much a treat by this particular family's hugs and encouraging words. And then my server's aunt pulled me aside.
She said, with tears in her eyes, "My heart just broke when I heard what happened. I know things were never looking great, but you always hope for the best... and this is just... horrible. I really... I really had a hard time because... well, I had two losses. Much earlier on, but its never easy. And I have to tell you... after the second, I considered suicide. I never knew what was harder: to feel so alone with such intense pain... or to open your eyes and realize you are not the only one. I'm so sorry for your loss." 
I have to say, through all the... words and cards and hugs and tears... much has been said about what I should be feeling... or what I could be feeling, or what was okay to feel. The grief counselor told me that I should give myself grace. Because whatever I was feeling, it was okay. This was great.
But nothing legitimized my grief like talking with this woman who merely comes in weekly for a glass of wine and sometimes a salad. Something about a woman you hardly know saying, "I sort of get it and I can imagine your pain and I did much worse with it..." That really brings out the desire to step back from that ledge. To continue celebrating on the good days but accept the bad days. 
C) My friend Kasia is fabulous. On Mother's Day, she posted this blog (I've cut some of it down):

Lia bo bia

from the start, we hit it off as co workers in the fabulous world of Banquet Serving.
she met this cute boy named Peter, and they got hitched, and I got to wear a pretty dress and dance and drink at their wedding.
and one day, she was just living her life and then BAM her body was like "oh yea, that being healthy thing? we're over it." so she endured painful test after painful test to find out *thankfully* that everything was fine. But, it really sucked. AND because she was still in Ft Collins at the time, so I didn't even get to bring her soup.
so she pushes on and becomes this amazing cook, moves like a hundred million times
then she moves into the Briarhood with exciting news. But hopes were dashed, dreams were crushed
She is the most amazing, strong woman I know that has been given so many obstacles and has leaped over them,
In the midst of her pain and suffering, she is still celebrating with us.
 And even after some major medical hurdles, she could probably still kick my butt on a bicycle. she has serious skills.
She makes amazing delicious healthy food and has a marriage stronger than most are after 10 years.
She also planned a wedding in like, no time flat, and it was BEAUTIFUL and PERFECT.
She also was the reason that I have had the best chocolate martini ever.
This is for Lia, a true champion woman, who is an inspiration to all-especially me. Her strength, faith, and humor through continual downfalls is uplifting. And I hope she sees how wonderful she is!

 I'm not posting this so you can all comment, "Ohhh, its so true!" because a lot of days, I read this post and think, "What Lia Bo Bia does she know, because she cannot be talking about me!" (Seriously, all blog comments trying to convince me of truth to these statements will not be published) 
But I read this and I think besides all that "Lia is fantastic" crap, its a pretty good summary of the last 6 years or so. And all that other stuff about me... well, I just call it a goal. I don't feel I am all of those things, but I sure would like to be. But sometimes, when I am having a day when I feel like I am being a horrible person for feeling the way I do, I open up this post... And I think... someone already thinks that about me... I can do that. So I keep striving for that.


As I write this, I am watching "Hope Floats" on TV. Its a silly romance about a woman who finds out her husband is having an affair with her best friend via being on a "Jerry Springer" like talk show. She then moves home to small town Texas where all sorts of things happen. (read again, it is a romance.)
Early on though, her mother asks what she was thinking going on that trashy talk show (she had been told she was going in order to get a makeover). 
So she tells her mama, "I don't know! I just wanted a free makeover!!!!" And her mama replies, "Well you got a free makeover all right. Just a different kind." 
Isn't this what significant incidents in life always are? Everything that happens to us just shapes us, makes us over. I'm a different person than I was a year ago... even just 6 months ago. But I don't think its just recent baby loss mama's who can say that. Everyone goes through life... good and bad and nobody can go through it and remain the same. I like that, "Oh you got a free makeover all right."
Yes, I did. But I expected my free makeover to involve breastfeeding and diapers and midnight cries and so on and so forth. But it didn't. It involved painkillers, and tears, and kleenex and meetings at a funeral home, and so on so forth. Its been a different type of makeover. But one none the less. I am not the same. 


So... there are many things, small and large that get me through. 
Not everyone is so poetic and perfect with their timing. Things have been said to me in an effort to comfort that have instead upset. Again bringing up the silly movie I am watching... 
So the main character is back in this tiny little town... and everyone knows she just found out about her husband's affair on national television. And everyone has their various strategies to comfort... One former classmate says, "Oh... and to do that to you on national television... we have satelite so we saw it twice, once mountain time and once central... OH YOU POOR THING!!!" Sometimes people say DUMB THINGS. In this case, I do not think anyone has meant to upset or be anything less than wonderful... but it comes across as... less that that.  
One of my servers told me not to worry because she felt that people had babies when they were meant to have babies. Forgive my imperfections for not reacting well to my 22 year old server with two perfect children after two perfect pregnancies who constantly complains about her husband and makes minimum wage telling me that people have children when they are "meant to".      
So... here is a link to a pretty complete do's and don't's website... Because I'll be honest while I may be doing "better" my grief is not less. I am not less sensitive. I do not miss my baby less. I've survived 4+ months, but the majority of the time, it only feels like that, surviving. Certainly not thriving. http://www.miscarriagesupport.org.nz/helping.html   
So there you have it... getting by 101 with Lia. 
I love that song, "Make you feel my Love." Most recently, it was re-sung by Adele and I LOVE LOVE LOVE IT.

Forget the lost love aspect this song is "supposed" to have. If you've ever been anything close to be a parent, you can imagine what I mean. I don't see it about lost love at all. "I'd go hungry, I'd go black and Blue...." yes, this is what that parent child bond (and tons of hormones at first) does to us. "I know you haven't made your mind up yet... But I would never do you wrong..." That is more what is was like with Carter. For every joyful moment (or almost every), there was a scary one. From the ultrasound technician who almost sounded angry when he said, "How did you get pregnant?" to the multiple ER visits to the amniocentesis... for every hope we had for our precious little girl's life, there was a doctor's prognosis to dash it. And I went hungry and sick and tired and black and blue and near dead... and there was never any doubt in my mind where she did belong. But that is where she is not.
So, lastly, after blabbing on for hours (and you are still reading faithful few!), I will just leave you with this. The lyrics from "Smile" by Lyle Lovett
Smile, though your heart is aching.
Smile, even though it's breaking.
Though there are clouds in the sky,
you get by...

If you smile through your fears and sorrows.
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll see the sun come shining through.

If you just light up your face with gladness,
Hide every trace of sadness.
Although a tear may be ever, ever so near.

That's the time you must keep on trying.
Smile, what's the use of crying?
You'll find life is worthwhile
If you'll just smile, come on and smile.

If you just smile.


Cheers! LiA

Because Friday is my Monday

Another interesting little insight into the restaurant world...

I am not a nine to fiver. Monday doesn't give me a case of the Mondays and Fridays don't have me saying TGIF. I never have been though. From my first job, I've always worked places that are open seven days a week. And therefore need people seven days a week. And therefore... I've only ever had weekends off when I have requested them... at least two weeks in advance.

Personally, having recently made a quick stop into a grocery on a Saturday morning and having tried to go down to the lake on a Sunday, I am happy to not be off work on the same days as EVERY other Joe Schmoe that is off trying to get things done. Being off in the middle of the week means the store lines are short, I can schedule appointments on a whim because I can say, "oh I'm available anytime these two days," the trails and parks are quiet... and probably some other benefits I can't think of now.

These benefits are less realized during the summer when people vacation, and kids are out of school. But still, movie theaters are less likely to be sold out, and the dog park is a little more sane.

It is something to adjust to though. And I could see how some people wouldn't enjoy it. Afterall, I need two weeks advance notice to make it to any family event since they are all on the weekends. I have to ask favors in order to do cool charity events like the bike ride we are doing at the end of the month.

And many people can't follow. I post on facebook on Tuesday, "Finally my Friday!!!" and all the comments are related to how I cannot follow the week, because its only just begun, certainly not ending! And when I go to the bank to do the deposit for work Friday morning, they say, "Have a great weekend!!!" and I say, "Oh, its my Monday." They give me a funny look. Atleast they finally stopped rubbing in the three day weekends they get so regularly since it seems like there is a "bank holiday" ever other week.

But... I like this way of life. And to make it even better, Peter's schedule is completely backwards too. He even sometimes has a "late night after work beer" at 8am. His Friday nights (end of shift, last day of work week) are tuesday mornings. His monday mornings, are thursday nights.

As funky as this all sounds, we describe it this way, because it is the only way people seem to be able to follow. My schedule isn't so confusing because I still work during... somewhat normal working hours. But with Pete working overnight, it totally throws people for a loop. When you explain that... tuesday morning is friday night for him, suddenly people are like, "ohhhh! two days off, how nice!"

Since we enjoy our mid week weekends, I don't suspect it will change anytime soon, so... pardon us if we are bragging about a having had a great weekend on thursday afternoon. And just remember, while you are celebrating TGIF, I have a case of the mondays.

A beautiful day off bike ride September 17, 2010. (a Friday... or "Sunday", depending on who's schedule you are working from)

Quotes of the Day

So, first off, I should say that I should be sleeping... right now. I need to pick Pete up from work in t minus FOUR hours. But I'm not. I wanted to write first.

So, one of the things I think you have to do to stay sane in hospitality is find humor in the people around you. For years my mother in law has asked me, "How was work? Any funny customer stories?" So, I try to sum up the moments of my shift I find most enjoyable with a quote of the day. I have been working a little bit harder more recently to really remember catch phrases and things though... because it gives you a little one liner to giggle about the rest of the shift. So here are some from recently that still stick out in my head.

July 4th. My Honduran busser, "I don't know, Lia... maybe slow tonight. It's holiday? and you... you gringos like to barbecue today right?"

July 10. Getting KILLED on a Sunday night. Everyone getting stressed and tired. Me: "But Wilbert (one of the other managers), remember... we hit budgeted sales Thursday. Every cutomer that walks in tonight is just extra bonus money." Wilbert: "Oh... and there are many many customers... cha ching cha ching cha ching..."

July 11. Slow night. Two customers sitting on patio near closing time. I'm eavesdropping while attempting to fix an uneven table. Woman to man: "Well, yeah, but remember, we aren't in the South anymore. People aren't slow here."

I had been meaning to write these down since that first one on July 4, but I didn't so I have obviously forgotten most of them. I will work harder to remember for you this next week. Tomorrow is the rodeo parade downtown. There will be ATLEAST one fantastic quote of the day.

Four months I never thought I would survive.

Four months ago today, we held our precious Carter Marie for the last time. For the first time. For the only time. It was the one time we were complete as a family (and if you want to get technical, we weren't because our dog is very much a part of our family and dogs are not allowed in the hospital). And from now on, there is no way to illustrate the incompleteness that is felt by a family grieving their child. Someone told me about how some families who have suffered baby loss always include a stuffed animal or some related symbol in family photos and such. It is a nice thought. Its one I have considered. One I have not completely decided on one way or another. I see how it is an acknowledgment of the lost member of our family. However... there is no stuffed animal that will fill the hole in our hearts. There is no symbol strategically placed in a picture that will remind people, "Oh they still suffer from grief."

And so, from there, all that is left is moving on as best we can. So, despite the dark sounding title, this post is mostly an update on all things of the Hall family. We've been camping, crafting, working, hiking, biking, etc etc etc.

We did something with $7??? It must have been something cool or unique because I felt we needed to take a picture... though I did not take a picture of what the $7 was spent on. But, this brings me to a significant portion of my update. In our grief, we spent too much money just to try and feel better... and then we tried to spend none at all because I was away from work and $$ got tight. We are still trying to find the balance I would say.

We've made some amazing dinners. Stuffed portabellos and a fondue night to name a few. (Sorry, I cannot turn the photos correctly, I'm technically lame) For a while, food was an overwhelming task for me. Picking it, preparing it, enjoying it... it was all too much. And when your taste buds go from hypersensitive from pregnancy to non exisitent from grief, its all you can do to convince yourself you are not eating cardboard every meal. Its slowly coming back. I still get overwhelmed at meal planning sometimes. But Peter is happy to help. :)

We went camping. It snowed. Ursa hid in the tent. The boys climbed trees and shot targets. I cooked over a fire and read. It was deserted with the storm and wonderful. 

Peter works a lot. Overnight. He's tired a lot... as seen in this photo... (I think the shade of yellow of our walls that comes out in photos makes people look more deathly too though) The company he works for is thriving and there is an upcoming meeting to discuss his future and what that looks like with them... (His boss already told him to find his replacement for the job he is currently doing because his talent is being wasted with his current job duties) Despite his crazy schedule, mine is crazy too and we still see each other fairly regularly...

Ursa continues to seek out her greatest interests... balls, someone to play fetch with, and soft cuddly things. If there is stuff going on, she is happy to participate. But she is also quite content sleeping all night with me, and all day with Peter.

This is the turtle stuffed animal that has been watching over us since day one in the hospital when he was brought to us by Kasia. If ever we go the stuffed animal in place of baby in pictures route, it will probably be this guy you see. Something about him reminds me that its going to be all right. Maybe its his kinda dopey, contented for no reason expression, or the heart stamped on his butt... but its just something. 

Some people we know had birthdays and I made them stuff. This is one of the set of six placemats I made for Heidi. And This is the messenger style bike bag I made for my brother Ben:

Its totally lined with nylon to protect against those rides in a sudden and unexpected downpour

and tons of pockets. And these super sweet toggle buckles along with velcro closure too.

I will soon be picking out another bit of canvas to make myself my own... that is how sweet it turned out.

And I have been working on some projects for myself too.

I fixed the bedskirt I made back in January that had turned out just a little too short

But this was the doosy of a project...

We transformed what was supposed to be Carter's closet

into a functional piece that we could use without the sentimental burden. We started (and at this point in the project, by we, I mean John, Pete's stepdad / my carpenter) by chopping it in half.

This made the bottom the perfect height for a countertop. So we gave it a top and then had to decide how to finish it off.

I painted it red. Bright red. Fire engine red. With a glossy finish.

Spray painted the hardware a hammered finish black

And then!!!! We laminated the top with Anne Taintor artwork. You'd probably recognize the art if you saw it. It looks like this:

 and the finish product turned out quite nice if I do say so myself

And I got a new tattoo. After quite some time of talking about it, I got Carter's footprints tattooed on my foot. Now, she is walking with me wherever I go...

It hurt. It really hurt. But relatively speaking, I've been through worse. And I really like how it turned out.

So then there is me...

Not ready for pictures yet. Actually, my camera battery died while I was trying to get a decent one. I am always behind the camera!

I'm working a lot too. But it comes with a reward... hopefully. I've already been given a raise. And someone (I'm not being coy here, there is really no official word yet) is getting promoted to GM soon. Who has two thumbs and would love to be GM? THIS GIRL! 

Also, Pete and I have both gotten time off in order to participate in the "first annual bike ride for hope." Its a ride to benefit CASA, an amazing organization in this area. They provide court appointed advocates for children in those tricky court cases of abuse, neglect, drug use, etc. 

Here's the thing. Its 40 miles. Uphill. And at the end of the month. So I may be picked up by the SAG wagon as they clear the course. BUT! I will give it my best until then. And up until then, I need to build up a tad bit more strength. So, if I am not doing something to benefit my overall physical health, and therefore chance of living through aforementioned event, scold me!!!!

So that is us, where we are now. We are just as imperfect and broken as we always have been, only more recently, we added the grief of our child to that mix. Its a hard road... one I would never wish on others. But, it is unfortunately, a road some have to travel. And we are... traveling. Some days slower than others. Some days with more tears. Some days with more joy. Some days with frozen yogurt to make up for the lack of joy. But overall, we are still here and loving each other. And that is enough for any day.