Wednesday, December 31, 2008

Let us begin the new year with a crappy video

"Something is better than nothing?"

I personally disagree, but here is a dumb video for you all to see my family. Its me in all my splendor, my hot husband and my perfect little princess. We were testing the new webcam and chit chatting about nothing

Saturday, December 27, 2008

The weirdest accidents happen to me

Ok. Where are the camera's and who is taping this sick joke?! This is unreal. Its hard enough to have a child with the flu, but make that a PKU toddler child on a christmas holiday trip and you got the recipe for a migrane.

I had my hands full. We didnt need more crap. But, if it wasn't unexpected and random- it wouldn't be my life.

I have a history of stoopid car accidents, but last night put the cherry on top. Let us do a brief recap of my strange and random car accidents throughout the decade...

1. I tried to teach myself to drive a standard (stick shift), but had no idea what the clutch was for. I stuck my car into neutral and slowly backed into the street. Several cars were waiting for me to move, but I could not get the car into gear. Eventually, I just pushed my car back to its original spot. I felt like a fool.

2. When I had the hang of the stick shift, I grew so confident in backing up that I knocked over my own mailbox. With an audience present.

3. Thinking that a trailer truck was about to invade my lane, I drove onto the sidewalk to avoid the "accident." I stopped right before running into a pole.

4. I have blown out my tires TWICE (this year) by hitting the curb at a speed no higher than 20 miles per hour.

But last night... last night took the cake.

I was driving down the highway, headed from Mexico to USA. Isaac and I decided to head home early in order to avoid the border crowd returning home on sunday. We had driven for about two hours when I saw a tow truck on the side of the road. It was picking up a car that had wrecked. I could see that because the truck had those yellow hazzard lights flashing. What DIDNT have yellow lights or orange cones was the inmense debree left all over the pavement.

Apparently, a car had lost its suitcases in the middle of the road, and some huge truck ran over them- turning them into thousands of sharp pieces on the road. I hit a few.

We were all fine. The car never lost control or anything. I drove slowly to make sure that the tires were OK (since I now have a fobia of blow outs), but the tires were fine.

That's when I noticed the smell of poop. Katy had done her buisness and needed a diaper change. The timing was perfect, because the last rest stop was only five minutes away.

When we got there, I opened Katy's door to get her out and a toy fell out and rolled under the car. Annoyed at the clutter and chaos, I grumbled as I crouched down to pick up the toy. Then, I noticed a steady stream of green liquid pouring out of the car.

The gas tank had a gaping hole in it.

(and we had just filled the tank)

I ran over to the toll booths and asked for help. After giving them an explanation of what had happened, they told us that their insurance company would cover our repairs, but that we had to wait for the adjuster.

Two hours.

It was just about midnight, and we still had a good hour to drive. Isaac spent most of the time teaching Katy some cool drum beats. I tried my hardest to shoo away smokers on a highway break. A car explosion was the last thing we needed.

By the time the insurance guy got there, it was 1 am, and waaay past Katy's bed time. She was mad.

Finally, we signed the papers and got the bad news. The tow truck would be there in three MORE hours, and we would be without a car for an indefinate period of time.

Isaac's dad drove up to meet us and take us the rest of the way home. A friend of ours was kind enough to let us borrow her only car until we can get ours back.

Although Im taken aback by the randomness of the accident, I am touched by those who went out of their way to help us. I am grateful that the Mexican highway is going to pay for the damages. But most of all, I am grateful that we are alive and well.

Had it not been for a poopy diaper and a dropped toy, this could have turned out very differently.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Its been a HARD day. May I vent?

(my strength, time and energy feel disproportional to the demands of a flu suffering toddler on a very bad holiday timing)

Sunday, December 21, 2008

This wont make sense to anybody- HOTCAKES

I need a public access place to put this, and this is my best option. Sorry for my readers. Just ignore my post.

RAZA CCI de COLONIA RANGEL FRIAS. Nos vemos el miercoles 24 a las 9.30 am para desayunar un buffet de hotcakes y omeletes y crepas...etc. Estos son los ingredientes que nececito para el 23 en la tarde. No seas colgado, yo no me quiero quedar cocinando toda la noche, asi que llega tempranillo por la tarde.

Deja un commentario en "comment" diciendo para que te apuntas. O si no, mejor ponte de acuerdo con lucy. Sale? No me queden mal, si no va a ser una buena friega para mi solita.

Aqui esta la lista:

dos cajas de mantequilla (real)
Queso cheddar
Queso filadelfia
1 bote de yogurt natural
3 cajas de tocino
Salsa roja
Miel de maple
4 litros de leche
4 litros de jugo de naranja
24 huevos
crema batida (en bote tipo spray preferible)
2 pimientos morrones
1 cebolla
medio kilo tomate
cafe para cafetera
crema para cafe
3 ratas muertas

Friday, December 5, 2008

It appears Im "the Shizzle"

See? I wasnt talking out of my butt. It appears that I really am all that and a bag of chips.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Guess who won?

This entry is concerning my previous post.  It smells like trouble and defeat up in here...

Not to mention that she went and pushed the button to grind coffee. We may as well brew a pot.

This is new...

Those crocodile tears are breaking my heart.  

Ever since Isaac came back from his music tour, Katy has protested bedtime with all that is in her.  I dont get it. She used to love bed time.  She would cuddle with her blankie and sing herself to sleep.  Now she just shrieks and cries as soon as we put her down. 

This is really hard to do.  I just went in there to read her a story.  She hugged and kissed on me as if we hadnt seen each other in weeks.  We read the book three times.  I would have kept going.  I was really enjoying her loving on me.  But then, she got all wild with the wet wipes, so I decided to put her back in bed before she thought that it was party time.

Of course, she screamed and cried.  She's still screaming and crying right now.  Im locked in the bathroom- pretending I dont hear.  I wanna cave so bad, but I know that if I do I will only be reinforcing the habit.  On the other hand, one hour crying in bed seems so extreme.  What should I do?

See why I want to set up a streaming channel of my life?  Wouldnt this be fun to watch?  You could all watch and make bets on how long I could hold out.  

Oh, but I DO have a baby video monitor, and here is where it gets interesting:  My channel is interfering with someone else's.  Every now and then, their baby's nursery will appear on my screen.  Just an hour ago I finally saw the mom.  She looked about my age and she was blonde.   I have already checked with the people on my street, and nobody has a baby.  I have no clue who this family is.

I wonder if they can see Katy crying herself to sleep.  What if they think Im a bad mom? Ive never seen their baby crying.  Come to think of it, every time he pops into my screen, he's a giggly happy tike.  OMG.  The things they must be thinking of me...

Katy is crying a lot like the little guy in this video:

The problem is that the wig wont work with her.  Maybe I'll try a monkey suit.

Im gonna go get some asprin. 

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Late thoughts on gratefulness

Painful thoughts can enter your mind at any moment. For me, it was today, as I was getting Katy buckled into her car seat. Having just finished her supper, I was doing the usual mental math to recap the amount of protein she consumed for that meal. I calculated that she had about a gram and a half. I was proud of how much I was able to make her meal stretch. That's when the thought that has crossed every PKU parent's mind ran through mine-

"How Unfair"

I sulked inwardly, thinking of all the great stuff I wish I could feed my little girl. I imagined cheese cubes, and yoghurt cups. I thought of cookie jars and sandwiches. Is that too much to wish for? To hope that my daughter can one day eat the nutritious food and not have to worry about it damaging her brain?

How unfair!

But then I thought about the Norwegian doctor- Folling, who insisted on finding the cause for mental retardation in two siblings. I thought about his pioneer research in the 1930's that led to the discovery of Phenylketunria. It was his enlightenment that led others to take up the torch and walk the next mile. From him came those who advocated and made blood screening at birth mandatory in the united states (that foot stick they do at birth). Then, there were others- like Virginia Shuett- who spent their entire lives finding ways to feed people like Katy. PKU is one of the few genetic diseases that can be controlled by a diet.

There are so many other metabolic conditions that have no cure. Many are even fatal. That is not the case with Katy. We have research, support, information, and many types of foods fabricated to make PKUers live a more normal life. We have a formula that supplements her nutrition, a geneticist who checks up on her development (and always gives us good news), a well informed nutritionist, a whole team of therapists, and best of all- we have what so many other families wish for-


So, even though this thanksgiving my daughter could not eat turkey, I am grateful that she could sit at the table and much on her special Cambrooke's food as we shared smiles, love and laughter.

PKU- what a cinch!

Friday, November 28, 2008

Im gonna regret this in the morning

So it wasnt enough that Katy woke me up at four in the morning today.   I find myself awake at one in the morning watching people sleep.   There is this website called in which regular people set up webcams in their house and you can watch them live their lives... as you waste yours behind a screen.

I am currently watching a french woman wake up to her cats.  She's just laying there, petting them, and I'm strangely addicted to her every move.  I feel like Im right there in france.  Whats funny is that there are nine other losers (like me) watching her too.  

Once again, I am overcome with the intense desire to set up webcams throughout my house so that people can watch me wake up too!  Wouldn't it be cool?  Just picture watching me putting  on my makeup, playing with katy, or simply running frantically through the house.  I soooo wanna do it.  Ive tried it before, but I'm having static IP address issues.  No, i dont know what that means.  I just know that its what the little message tells me.  I've given up so many times, but today, I find myself wanting to give it another go.

How pathetic am I?


No particular day seems like the "right" one to wake up at four in the morning, but this one feels especially cruel. It could be the combination  of sinus problems with a few days of sleep depravation that makes this morning feel a bit undoable.  But there is nothing that a cup of starbuck's chai latte can't make better (Im so glad I swiped it from my mother-in-law's house).

For no apparent reason, Katy decided to wake up at this ungodly hour.  When I say "decided"  I mean it.  There are times when she can just whine and complain and still stay in bed.  Not this morning.  Today, she was decidedly up.  If you're a parent, you should know what I'm talking about.  You know its way too early to wake up when "Nick at Night" is still playing.  How do you explain that to a toddler?  How about-

"Dora is still in her bed going night night- like daddy."

 In all fairness, I told my husband to stay in bed so he could swap sleep breaks with me later in the day.  I hope sleep and I can reconcile later on, since I tend to be too wired through the day.  But, this would be a good time to reminiscence the events that made my thanksgiving holiday memorable.

The Refried Beans Exploded

You know you're in Mexico when you can say that about your thanksgiving meal.  My mother in law decided to make our thanksgiving meal stretch by taking the refried beans and adding them to the buffet line.  

Did you know that you can't warm food up in the microwave with the topper lid still on?  The beans made it out of the microwave just fine, but decided to blow their top when the entire family was lined up for the buffet.  There was a loud popping sound, much like when you open a bottle of champagne. Suddenly, everyone was wearing beans.  Even the ceiling sported the new look.  Its hard not to make jokes, considering we're in Mexico, but I'll leave those to your imagination.

From The Mouth's of Babe's

It seems like I never really got moved on to the adult table.  I always end up sitting with the kiddo's feeling a little left out.  At least this time, I get to sit with my husband.  But we sat with our new little nieces.  Not too long ago, my brother in law married a young woman who had two little girls.  It was our first thanksgiving together, and I decided to break the ice with the "do you have a boyfriend" cliche.  They argued back and forth about it.  

"I have a boyfriend,"  I told them "Isaac is my boyfriend."

"He's not your boyfriend!  He's your husband!"  The little girls said

"He's my husband-boyfriend,"  I answered.

"We love each other so much,"  Isaac explained "that its like were boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Oh!  Like mommy and daddy!"  The little one exclaimed, speaking of her new daddy- my brother in law.   By now, everyone was in on the conversation. 

"Well... sort of... because they fight all the time."

There was an awkward moment of silence.  It was extremely uncomfortable, since this was the first time that all of our new family was together- including both sets of  in-laws.  In what seemed an eternity, the silence was finally broken by Isaac's chuckles.  These only inspired the little girl to go further into detail, but she was abruptly interrupted by her mom, who ordered her to get more food and stay quiet.

OK, Katy is fussing now, so I gotta go play.  The caffeine effects are kicking in and I think I can do this...

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

This means war...

I dont know if you recall my last video on killing mice, but looking back on it makes me laugh. I was so innocent. So naive. So, completely unaware of what was to come. I lived in a fairy tale castle and walked on pink clouds. I was such a child. But that was then.

This is now.

I've been away from home for almost two months. I was so eager to come to all my things. The first evening, I invited a friend over for coffee and tacos (yes. Tacos.) We sat merrily and enjoyed our conversation for about three and a half minutes. Until we felt a shadow run across the kitchen.

Were we seeing things?

Shrugging it off, we continued with our long overdue chat. But not two minutes later, the movement in the kitchen continued. It was a mouse. A creepy, disgusting freak of nature had come into my kitchen and was hiding under my fridge. I stood nearby with a broom and waited. Then, it popped out again.

But hadnt we seen a gray mouse?

Was this one brown?

Either way, it made a mad dash for the laundry door, and to my surprise- was able to fit under the door and "escape (to my laundry room)."  My friend and I sat back in the living room, only this time we kept our feet on the couch. Then, a shadow.  It was that mouse.  No- it was NOT that mouse.  It was a baby one.  

That evening I counted four live mice, and two dead ones (I killed them.  Cuz I have no fear).  All under my fridge.  Then, I looked over at my back yard.  One, two, three, four, five, six... all in plain sight and all at the same time!  My house had been invaded by a plague of mice while I was gone!!!

Looking through the house I found mice crap everywhere.  On the stairs,  the floor, the pantry, the stove, and even in Katy's toy box.

This means war.

I sent Isaac out for the craziest mice anhilation  weaponry that he could retrieve legally.  When he returned, we set up dozens of rat traps, a couple of sticky traps and four packages of rat poison.  They are all well hid under furniture and out of Katy's reach.  

Now we wait for the little monsters to take the bait and rot. Oh, wait- that would pose a problem now, wouldnt it?  Oh well, I'll deal with it later...

  When my house smells like a rotting meat factory.

Friday, November 14, 2008

I R a NuRd

Yet another Vlog from moi

Thursday, November 6, 2008

Thursday, October 30, 2008

Not to brag, but Im very gifted

You've all read my blogs and seen my videos, but did you know I could sing as well? I touched up a cool song and made it even cooler- cuz I rock. Listen for the vocals, my talent stands out pretty obviously.

PS- chill. Give it a second to load, yo.

xpress yourslef - Richard I Hays

Monday, October 27, 2008

the thing about choking in public...

It had been a long and grueling day and I was particularly crabby.  To think that it was only five o'clock and the worst hadn't even begun.  This afternoon Katy was especially kranky, and it was driving me bonkers.   By the late afternoon, I decided to calmly face the situation.

"Isaac!  Get your butt up!  We're taking her out!  I can't stand it!  I CAN'T STAND IT!"

In two minutes we were in the car, headed for the mall.  Inside the mall was a little toddler play center that Katy loved.  I was sure that taking her there would change her mood.  

We weren't even out of the car by the time I lost my temper.  Things didn't get better as I dropped the stroller and the diaperbag in the parking lot.  In fact, I nearly lost it right then and there.  That's when it hit me-

I was starving!

No wonder things seemed so frustrating.  I told Isaac to please take Katy to the play area while I grabbed something small to hold me down.  (We had guests that night and would be having a late dinner).

There's something about sitting alone in a public place that makes you feel like a bit of a loser.   Nevertheless, I grabbed my chicken stuffed "gordita (the real deal is actually tiny)"  and sat in the middle of the food court. At long last, I would take a bite. 

 It went down the wrong pipe.  I imediately started gagging, coughing and choking.  

And I forgot to buy a drink. 

The choking and coughing was so severe that tears began pouring down my face.  Now, black mascara covered my eyes and cheeks and I grabed a napkin to wipe it off.  The napkin had salsa on it, and now my eyes were burning as I started to lose my vision.  I was still choking.

I stood up and stumbled across the food court with the diaperbag still on my shoulder.  I'm not quite sure what I was thinking, but I was making my way towards the bathrooms.  I hadn't made it all the way to the door when I realized that Katy's sippy cup was in the diaper bag.

In plain view of the public, I took it and began to chug.  But the water merely dribbled.  I needed to flush things down, if you know what I mean.   So, I walked up to the nearest food stand and banged on the counter.  An attendant rushed up to me.

"Coke!"  Cough, cough.  "I'm choking!  Quick!"

The attendant rushed to the fridge and got me the first can of coke that she could find.  Dropping a bunch of change on the counter, I opened the coke and guzzled it down.  The attendant looked at me, bewildered.

"You gonna be OK?" she asked

"Yeahhhhhhh..."  I sighed with relief.

All eyes were on me as I walked back to my table.  All I needed now was for my food to be missing.  As I approached, I could see my half eaten gordita still on the table.  All was well, and I was alive.  

"The good thing about hitting rock bottom is that you dont get lower than that," I thought to myself as  I sunk my teeth into my food.

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Im on a Shaving Strike

My husband has been away on a music trip, which I hear is going excellently. He's given so many concerts already that I've actually lost count of them. He is in Cancun as we speak, and he has just opened a concert for a big head honcho in the latin christian music community.

Yeah, to some it may not sound like much, but to us missionaries- its the shindig.

The pace of the tour is too speedy for Katy, so we decided to stay behind. In fact, we're taking total advantage of this opportunity to do some therapies in Texas. It is our main focus to get Katy talking, and since her mother language is english it seems stupid to do spanish speech therapy in Mexico.

But enough about them, lets talk about me.

Im lonely. And bored. I dont have any friends or social life here in Texas and Im coming to full realization of what a true loser I can be. Here, in no particular order, are some key manifestations of my desperate loneliness.

1. I got in a cyber fight

Yes, me- the missionary. I got in a fight on a website called CAFEMOM. I got kicked out of one of the website's social groups. Apparently, I was not allowed to start a topic on abortion, but the rule was not writen anywhere. They kicked me out of a group and I made a big stink with my blog. Then, my blog got removed by the administration team and I got a warning about picking fights. Yes. Me. I felt like the straight "A" student getting punished for something she didn't deserve.

So, one of my cybermom friends sided with me and took up my cause, getting herself booted from the group as well. We now have our own group, which we administer. Now, nobody can kick us out for starting topics against the (unwriten) "rules."

Cuz were Bad Azzez.

2. Im on a shaving strike.

As my blog title suggests. Why should I shave when my husband is away for a month? All I gotta do is wear pants and "Voila!" Instant style. I think of it as an investment for my skin. By not shaving, Im not drying out my legs with the razor blades. can pretty much justify anything you stand for...

3. Saturday Mornings are not what I remember

As a kid, I used to LOVE saturday mornings. I would take out all of my toys and play while watching cartoons. I tried it again with Katy this morning, but I quickly realized that there has to be at least ONE grown up in the house. Somebody has to be responsible for the mess and the food. Katy and I drew straws and I lost. It would be my turn to make the pancakes this morning. But I know that someday, I'll have my day in the park...

The Berenstein Bears were on and I was really touched. Seriously, have you paid attention to their cartoons? The lessons on family unity are really inspiring. They really do respect each other and learn their lessons. And then, when the kids went off to bed, momma and poppa bear cuddled on the couch. You know they got it on later that evening. With their love afflame after so many years of marriage, you know those bears are sexually active. I mean, just look at the lust in their eyes:

4. Finally, this video deserves an honorable mention.

Thursday, October 2, 2008

Its me. The dork you all laugh about...

I got so many things to write about, but I have been HECTIC with schedule. For now, I will post a random picture of Yours truly- looking like a total dweeb head. In fact, all three of us do.

Im the one flying through the air. My husband is the one with the odd wardrobe and my friend fabie, is the girl glaring at the camera.

Yes. I surround myself with people who are like me. It keeps my feet grounded (as you can see).

Friday, September 12, 2008

Every family has one

A serenata (or serenade) is a very romantic Mexican tradition. Basically, when a man wants to profess his love to the girl of his dreams, he brings musicians to her window and they sing love songs outside of her house. If the girl reciprocates the feelings, she is supposed to turn on her light and perhaps peek out of the window. Its a very chivalrous and romantic expression that is sadly becoming less of a tradition and more of a history to our generation.

But forty years ago- it was all the rave. From what I hear, my aunt was a total heart breaker. She had many love struck boys lead packs of musicians to her window in attempt to win over her heart. They would turn up just around midnight, when the moon was full and bright, strumming melancholy tunes outside her window. The lover would wait patiently for her light to come on. Unfortunately, it never did.

My aunt had epilepsy- and in the excitement of it all, she would fall to the ground and shake with seizures- never having the time to turn on her light. I bet that time after time, the boys would return home feeling sad, rejected and broke (hiring these musicians is not cheap). If only they knew that fault was not with them, they might have given it another go.

But the worst serenata experience of them all was that night that my aunt's grandmother (my great grandmother) passed away. Completely unaware of this family tragedy- one more love-struck admirer decided to profess his devotion that evening. He gathered the musicians, ran through the song list and headed out to my aunts house.

I wasn't there, but I can imagine the grieving family's surprise as they heard the muffled sounds of guitars and trumpets outside their door. They were getting ready to take the body to the morgue, but now an enamored lover and his oblivious band stood right at the door.

They had to do what they had to do. The procession walked out of the house with a gurney and the dead body-covered only by a white sheet. In a moment of confusion, the musicians parted in half, letting the corpse and its grieving family walk through. Slowly, each instrument fizzled out- leaving an awkward and uncomfortable silence.

That pretty much branded my aunt for life. Even though she is now seizure free- the romantic Serenata days are long gone for her. From that day on, her inamoratos stuck to flowers and chocolates.

Monday, September 1, 2008

Friday, August 29, 2008

"Mom, dad...I need a sex change"

If you've followed this blog for more than a month, you should now be familiar with the "this could only happen to Michelle " premise. I'm convinced that I am secretly cast in some kind of prank show and am long overdue on my royalty compensations.

A few days ago, I went to the official government registry office to pick up my birth certificate.  I was born in Mexico, so obviously, I went to the Mexican offices.  Its a simple process, really.  You show up, wait a minute in line, say your name and get your paper.  Of all the transactions in the country, this is the easiest one to do.  

As I exited the office with document in hand, I  noticed a small but very significant error.  Under the place where it identified the sex of the person, I was posted as a MALE.   I got back in the line, pointed out the obvious mistake and we both chuckled about it.  The clerk assured me that the document would be corrected by noon on the following day.  

When I returned to the offices, I was met by a very serious woman with a pile of papers. It was my file.  At the bottom of her stack was a form, hand written by some kind of judge.  She highlighted the following statement:

"Michelle Gomez (a.k.a,  me)  was presented to me on the year of 1978 by ________, mother and __________, father (names left out for their protection) and I certify that the child is a live boy."


The clerk explained to me that a mistake like that cannot be changed due to all the people having sex changes these days (was she suggesting I was one of them?!).  Now, in order to be considered as a female to my country I must appeal my sex change to a judicial system.

But it gets trickier than that, you see.

They are asking for a number of papers, all of which I have- save one.  Its a certificate of baptism.  A religious baptism.  Mexico is such a catholic country that they apparently use the baptism document as a legally binding one.  Without it, I cannot have my sex changed.  The problem is that I was never baptized as a baby because I AM NOT CATHOLIC!  

So, once I have gone through all the loops and what nots, once I have had an appointment with a judge, once I show that I have no baptism document- I will be sent to have a physical examination.  This of course, to determine that I do have a legitimate vagina.

go figure.

Sunday, August 24, 2008

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Why me? So I could blog about it...

Last week was a pretty rough one. Katy had developed EXOTROPIA, more commonly known as "lazy eye." She required surgery, and I wont go much into detail. Instead, I'll just let this picture explain what she went through:

A terrible week goes down the john

The surgery was done in San Antonio, and we stayed at my brother in law's house. Three days after the surgery we decided that we had been cooped up long enough. We went to the zoo.

San Antonio in August is not the breeziest of spots. It was scorching. Nevertheless, by the time we arrived home we were exhausted. We spent most of our time sweating and petting the animals at the petting zoo. Too tired to shower, I went to bed smelling like a zoo animal.

The next morning we were scheduled for an appointment with Katy's eye doctor. Once he OKayed her, we would be free to go home. I woke up with plenty of time, so I took the morning slow and easy. After drinking my morning coffee, nature began to call. Isaac had gone before me, and I would have to wait.

As I heard him flush, I picked up a book with useless facts and tidbits to keep me entertained while on the pot (c'mon, you know you do it too). I didnt hear fate chuckle when I read the chapter on "labatory deaths." It seemed interesting enough, and It kept me engaged. I finished up and flushed the toilet.

Oh no.

It was not going down, instead it began to bubble up. I saw my life flash in front of me as the water began to rise. Would it stop? I frantically picked up all my clothes off the floor.

Did I mention I was naked?

I had planned to shower after my morning dump. Now, I stood in the middle of my brother in law's bathroom wearing nothing but my birthday suit as I tried to apease the toilet demons with heartfelt implorations.

But the bubbles continued. Suddenly, the toilet began to erupt, like a volcano- spewing my feces all over a bathroom that did not belong to me. I wrapped myself in a towel and ran to the living room, where my husband chatted with his brother. I poked my head from behind the wall-

"Psst! Isaac!"


"Um. Run. There's an emergency!"

Knowing what a drama queen I can be, my husband paid little heed to my alarm and paced slowly in the direction of the bathroom. The look of horror flashed through his eyes as he peaked into the scene. The toilet had slowed by now, and the discharge was slowly seeping through the sides. I was soaking up as much gunk as I could with a mountain of paper towels. To this moment- I was still wearing nothing but a towel.

"Why now?" I wined "we have to go to the doctor in half an hour and I smell like a zoo!"

"Dont flush. Just get in the shower," Isaac grunted "I'll fix the toilet, " he said as he walked away in disgust.

My husband had just returned from a trip to Asia and Europe. I hadn't seen him for six weeks! This was not the sort of reunion I had dreamed about. Surely I could fix the toilet on my own. It was, after all, my own poop.

I braced myself as I looked into the comode. Eureeka!! The water had gone down. I flushed again, but apparently, this sort of sacrifice did not appeace the toilet demon. He raged much worse than the time before.








E X P L O O O O O D E E E !!!

This was unlike any plumbing violence I had ever witnessed. It surpased my wildest imagination and my worst fears. There was no stopping it. I shouted to Isaac, who came running this time. By the time I saw his face, it was completely devoid of color.

"Did you flush!?" He shouted "Why would you do that?!"

"I was just trying to fix it!" I protested as the toilet continued cascading.

"It was a simple order! You should have done what I said!" he accused

"Well, if you had'nt gone before me-" I stated defensively "your TURD wouldnt have blocked my turd!"

"Mine went down just fine!" he said indignantly as the toilet continued to pour putridness "its your turd that got jamed in there!"

It was a pathetic sight: Reunited husband and naked zoo smelling wife shouting about turds as the toilet exploded. The arguing continued until the toilet ceased spewing. This time, the waters had gone all the way out the bathroom and began to seep into the carpet.


Suddenly, my brother in law made an entrance. Out of nowhere, he had brought an industrial vaccum cleaner and a genius idea.

"Just vaccum up the S#!T and then mop up the floor," he suggested, half gagging as he darted away.

Stinky, sweaty and angry I got dressed, rolled up my pants and got down to buisness. It was teamwork like you've never seen. Wife moping up poop and husband unclogging toilet. It was the epitome of romance, and an outstanding ending to an already stressful week.

And wouldnt you know it, it happened to me.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

I won the lottery- well, sorta'

I have been battling with Katy since 5 AM. That's when she woke up. From that moment up until now, the little critter bug has been a naggy little thing. She caught a mild cold. Just a runny nose. Apparently, that was enough to steal the peace. I have tried and tried to get her back in bed all day. But-

Which in turn, changes all of my plans. Instead of spending my "free" nap time crossing things on the to do list, I find myself throwing the list away entirely. Ever had one of those days? Please, pleeeeeease tell me about it if you have. It would make me feel like so much less of a loser.

I mean, bed time has always been my home run hit. Ive struggled with everything but BED TIME. Tonight, I swore I would put an exhausted little toddler in her bed where she would lay peacefully with a smile.


Its been two hours of screeming. Screeming like never before. I never lost my cool. I stayed calm as I tried technique after technique ad naseum (however you spell that, like I care). I finally decided that it was me who needed a time out, and after two intense hours, I closed the door, got on YOUTUBE and watched videos as I tried to tune out the screeming. Half way through my favorite vbloggers videos I stopped to have a dialogue with myself.

Inner me #1: Did you hear that?

Inner me #2: Hear what?

Inner me #1: Exactly...

Inner me #2: Is it.... Is it silence?

Inner me #1 & Inner me #2: SHE'S ASLEEP!!!!

(inner me's hold hands and begin to river dance in rupturous celebration)

Basically, I could have won the lottery. But this feels oh-so-much-better!

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

I never got to tell her...

Usually when you see a friend's picture in the paper, your heart swells up with pride and happiness. It's as if you were friends with a local celebrity, and to a certain point- you are.

Today, I saw an old friend's picture on the paper and my heart sunk. She looked just like I remembered her. Her radiant smile and shining eyes reflected all the infectious happiness she had inside. It wasnt the picture that struck the sad note, but the story to which it was attatched.

"the wreck claimed the life of a well-known and respected Christian school leader whose life inspired many children."

Cheri Sarver was my first boss in the professional field. I became a part time school teacher just a few weeks after graduating from college. It didnt make sense to me, I had studied communication, but I had always wanted to teach. I was hired as a kinder garden teacher aide.

In just a few weeks, a wealth of knowlede and experience poured out from Cheri and unto me. I felt like I was living that scene from "The Matrix," in which Neo learns difficult skills in mere instants by simply plugging in and loading up.

Cheri's imput and ideas extended far beyond the academic realm. She was more than just a school principal. She was a mother, a counselor, a teacher, a friend, an entertainer, an engenier, and at times- a firm disciplinarian. Cheris unique teaching style affected the whole school with a possitive and playful attitude. It was not uncommon to see her skipping from classroom to classroom dressed as a princess or even a weight lifting champion. She inspired the children (and the teachers) to learn through play. For her, history was not a lesson- it was a discovery- and we were the voyagers.

Through Cheri, I learned that there was no such thing as a stupid student, just bad teachers. I learned that in each chair sat a unique and individual person. A child who could grow up to change the world if only his teacher got to know him and meet his specific needs. I learned the value of not giving up. I discovered that the world is not flat, but full of angles. If an entrance to a child's mind is not granted through one method, there were still a million other ways to try. Cheri taught me to discipline in love, never losing the firmness that a child so desperately needs.

In the two years that I worked with her, Cheri saw me change and evolve. I may have never told her how much I learned from her, but Im sure that she could tell. What I never got to tell her was the following...

That I had a daughter. Her name is Kathryn. She looks just like me and she changed my life. I didnt know it, but my little Katy was born sick. Very sick. Deep down, on a chromosomal level, Katy was suffering constant attacks. Her brain was bombarded day and night. Her doctor didnt think there was anything wrong with her- until it was "too late."

By the time Katy was a year old, her brain had suffered serious traumas. There was very little hope for her recovery. But then the Genetecist told me about neuroplasticity. The brain's ability to rewire itself and learn through undamaged brain sections. A child's brain is very resilient up to about two years of age. Basically, I had one year to teach my daughter all that she had missed. I thought of Cheri and the lessons she left imprinted on my heart. I knew it was possible, if I gave it my best shot.

So I gave it my best shot.

I have cried, I have screamed and I have even bled- but I have not given up.

As a result, my two year old Katy is making a beautiful recovery. About a year ago, I was told she might not learn to walk. Today she walks, runs, spins and is even learning to jump. Her little mouth has started to blurt its first words and her way of play is just like any other child- save a minor delay. Katy is taking in the beauty of this world and discovering it bit by bit, because of what Cheri taught me.

I never got to tell her that, but when I meet her in heaven I will thank her for giving my child a second chance at life.

Cheri, I will miss your sweet precesnce here on earth.

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Nope. I did not fall off a cliff

Contrary to the popular belief, I have not fallen off a cliff and dissapeared from the face of this planet. Though I kind of feel like I did. Things are going kind of fast now, and its hard to take it all in. Because I'm pressed for time, Im going to give you the roundup update version.

1. Isaac has finished his first solo CD! A year ago, I never imagined that he would turn into a musician. Now, he is scheduled to tour all of Mexico giving concerts non stop for two months. Here is the link to his webpage. At the top, click on "CD" and then click on the little "e-snip" bird to hear a portion of his song. (if you're unfamiliar with the story of Isaac turned musician, this is the link to the blog I wrote about it).

2. Who switched out the bassinets? Katy is a whole new child! This is where I just blurt out the major changes, paying absolutely no attention to detail-
  • She has almost dominated going up the stairs by herself.
  • She's learning to play "pretend." (her favorite game is taking her teddy bear for a stroll, but now we walk to the corner store with her shopping cart to buy milk and eggs.)
  • She understands me when I speak
  • She says "again" all the time to get what she wants- and it works
  • She is engaging in meaningful play. Today, for instance- she found a can and carried it all the way to the kitchen. Then, she opened up the silverware drawer, grabbed a spoon and banged away. All without help!
  • She can tolerate a few minutes (just a few) playing with other children. I've touched her chest and noticed that her heart beats really loud when there are other kids around. She's really nervous, but gives it a shot anyway. My brave little trooper!
  • She learned to use the Ipod. She likes to wear it on her hip and listen to the "Numa Numa" song over and over and over....

3. Building up a strange library- I started buying books on Sensory Intergration Dissorder (of which Katy suffers). I've also been adding Occupational, Physical, Moral Otor and other kinds of therapy books to my library. I've learned so much and I have seen amazing results. So much, that I am now adding "regular" books to my shelf such as- "Gymboree Toddler Games" and "The Everything Guide to Potty training." I wish I could describe the joy of this developmental transition.

4. Isaac is going to Malaysia. And Spain. And Germany. Just a few days from now I will be sad and lonely.

5. Again, Isaac is giving a concert on Saturday evening. 7 pm central time. The cool part is that you can watch it online. go to our church media page and then click on the little television icon. Woohoo!

6. All my cameras are broken. Yes. even the webcam. I feel so useless.

7. Katy is having surgery. It will be an in and out eye surgery for her right eye. I suppose that her low muscle tone affected her eye muscle as well, because one is drifting. Its pretty minor, and the doctor is amazed that she has perfect vision considering her seizure history (which has been wiped off the map).

8. My coffee break is over and I gotta get back to my piled up laundry and dishes.

Monday, June 23, 2008

That's one sick little monkey

Look at this monkey:

Does he look well to you?

Well, he wasn't. One of his beady eyes was swollen shut. I don't know why, it just was. Plus, he wasn't in the best of moods. Look again:

You see? The little critter was miserable.

Nevertheless, he was on the job and he had to muster up a good attitude. After all, if it weren't for him, who would bring home the bacon? Or, bananas...


His job was to be the local celebrity in the beautiful beaches of Cancun. Not too shabby for an occupation. He would go from person to person (guided by his "boss") as he offered the tourists a chance to snap a picture with him.

His swollen eye, visible even from far away made my husband cringe. The noxious smell from his reeking fur filled our nostrills. Isaac swore that we would not be touching that disease ridden monkey. We were having a terrible week as it was. Katy had a misserable cold and the entire Hotel's air conditioner had broken down for two and a half days. The last thing we needed was to catch some crazy monkey illness.

But I had always wanted a picture with a monkey.

"Hi there!" The photographer greeted us "would you like a photo with the monkey?"

Katy begun to cry. Isaac shook his head vigorously. No was NO regardless of how much I insisted. Didn't I know that when Isaac put his foot down it was always final?

It ain't over till the wife nags, that's what I say.

So after much insistance we ended up snapping one of the very worst pictures in our family history. Look again. We're all sleep deprived, Katy is just wretched, Isaac is staying as far away from that monkey as is photographically possible and I'm just there. Smiling, like an idiot.

But what was really funny was what happened to the man next to us. He was just sitting in his lounge chair, keeping to himself.

"Hey there, fella! How'bout a picture with the monkey?"

The crabby man just shook his head "no"and turned away.

"C'mon! Its just a picture. No obligation."

"No. Thanks."

"Ah. It ain't so bad. Just take the picture!"


"Listen, if you dont like it its free. No obligation"

"No. I'm telling you- NO!"

"Whatcha gotta loose? No commitments. Just a picture."

"Fine! Gimmie the damn monkey," he burst.

The monkey exchange was made and just a second before the photo was taken I could hear the angry man give a loud groan followed by a curse. It turned out that the monkey had peed all over him. The photographer snapped the picture, snatched the monkey and darted off.

"Have a nice day!"

I could hear him yell as he ran.

Friday, June 13, 2008

The "invisible" exercise (what-a-crok!)

Do you do weird things when you're alone? I mean really, really weird things?

I was noticing how fat I was getting and remembering how hawt I was when I was a teenager (not that I realized it then), when I had a flashback. I remembered all the things that I would do to be in shape. I counted fat grams every day (always had less than 60), I counted my calories, and I took little opportunities through the day to tone up my muscles.

One of my excercises of choice was the "invisible" butt toning workout. Sitting through a sunday preaching can sometimes be boring to a teenager, so I often worked my gluts during church. I clenched my butt cheeks together and relaxed them.




It became my own little ritual. My sunday ritual. At the end of every sermon the pastor would make us all stand for the final words and then concluded with prayer. My glut workout continued. Did I mention that my parents liked to sit in the front row?

Yes. I was with them.

Just today, I was bored and found myself standing in the front of the mirror. Like I said, noticing how much weight I've gained. That's when I remembered about the "invisible Glut Excercise." I wondered how apparent it was and checked it out for myself.


omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg! omg!

I looked like a horney dog air humping!!!

Oh man, I don't know if I can live that one down!

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Only me. But why?!

My husband will be producing his first solo CD this summer.  It's scheduled to be out on the fourth of July.  Today was his photo shoot.  I was so excited because he actually got a make over! 'Im not kidding- even down to the highlights.  

We had a professional fashion stylist (and a dear friend) guide him through every step of the way.  She helped Isaac shop, giving him tips according to his body type, personality and skin complexion.  Then, she took him to a hair stylist and had a whole new look set up for him.

I met them outside the salon and -I just gotta say- hubbalicious!  I thanked my friend for all her fashion expertise  as we walked towards the studio, which happened to be down the block.  Talking about highlights and celebrities, I began to critizise the stars (as if Im some source of professional oppinion).  Walking through the studio I turned my star bashing towards Paulina Rubio.

"She's so trashy"

"Why is she in the buissnes when she can't even sing?"

"Paulina Rubio- ugh."

On and on I went, like a total snob.  The photo shoot began, and Katy and I got to be in the first few photos (Isaac wrote a song for each of us and wants us to be in the CD as well).  Since it was Katy's nap time, I drove home early while Isaac finished snapping his shots.  

Back at home I decided to Google his photographer.  It turned out that he was a celebrity photographer and that his number one client was none other than- that's right, you guessed it-


It seems that I am perpetually condemned to make a total and complete fool of myself.  I must have an automatic "stick my foot in my mouth" reflex.  I guess I should just shut up and never speak again.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

Katy's first word!

Its funny how these things creep up on you.  I thought that the first step or the first word would have me shaking and bawling, but it all happens so slowly and so smoothly.  What sounded like babble suddenly took meaning. 

Im so proud of my little girl, and Im so proud to be her momma.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Not Just Milestones- Historical Markers

Life is full of ups and downs. We move from day to day in familiar rythms, with a rough idea of what to expect. Once in a while, a day will pleasently surprise us and another will grieve us. Ocassionaly- and very seldomly- there are days that mark the history of our lives. These are days that are more than just special. They are epic.

Today was one of those days for me. Only those who know me and know my story will truly understand the significance of the story that I am to tell. If you dont know anything about me, dont worry- I've made sure to write it. Just backtrack through my blog.

I've just returned from Carls Jr.- a fast food restaurant. Inside, they have a little play center for children. Time after time, I have taken Katy there with the hope that she would catch on and play. At first, she would just stand there in a fright. She didn't get it. Children zipped past her, shouting and screaming in glee. She didnt even bother to look at them. All she ever did was stand still- waiting to be rescued from this strange place. After much coaching and insisting, she finally sat on the little floor and banged on it. I would get inside the toy and try to teach her to go up and down the slide. I guided her arms and legs through the toy, and she almost enjoyed it. As long as I moved her body through it. This went on for months and moths.

Today we revisited the place.

Katy took to the game almost immediately. She fluttered up the little steps and scooted all the way down the slide. Once, twice, three times- who knows- she kept going and going for half an hour. The children were no longer zipping by, she was keeping right up with them. Every now and then, she would stop a child and turn him to her face. It was almost as if she was saying

"wait a second... how come you're short like me?"

And to think that not even a month ago I was told by a psychologist that Katy could not engage in social play. This day marks a new era in Katy's life. It says to the world:


Thursday, May 29, 2008

HMPH! In Yo' face!

When I was eighteen, I got my first job in the United States.  I worked as a waitress in a major chain restaurant.  I really didn't like the pressure or the pace of the job, but I needed to make money so that I could go to college.  I remember being incredibly nervous every time I clocked in. Not only was I insecure,  my boss was a total jerk.

"Are you stupid, Michelle?!"  he would shout "If I have to cancel ONE MORE ITEM, it's coming right out of your check!"

His constant sneers and insults sent me home crying more times than I care to count.  It was not the best way to establish my work ethic.  As a matter of fact, his hurtful words and painful mockery made me more insecure than I had ever been.  

If that was even possible.

But a long time has passed since then.  Twelve years, to be precise. In that time, I have managed to push myself through college, get married,  move to a different country, be a news writer, radio producer, television director, theatre director, teacher, counselor, marriage therapist and more.  I had every dream job that I ever wanted, I traveled the world with my husband, and eventually settled down and had a beautiful little girl.   

I went from being an insecure girl to a confident woman.   

Just the other day I had to come back to Texas to and do standard maintenance on my car. I was led to the customer service desk where a representative was waiting to service my car. Little did I know, that sitting behind that desk would be none other than- yes, you guessed it- my cruel EX-boss!

"Good morning, maa'm-"  he started to say.

Then, the look. 

"I used to work with you,"  I said.  

"Yeah, I remember... So, how's life?"

I gave him a brief recap of the whirlwind of events that have shaped and molded me.  Life had done a lot of turning since I last saw him, and I know he could tell.  I was no longer the insecure little teenager who feared his every word.  I was the grown woman handing him the keys to service my car.

"Please make sure that the oil is changed and that all the fuses are working properly, "  I ordered   "I don't want any warning lights turning up.  Call me when it's done."

And just like that- in an unexpected turn of fate-  I found myself walking away with a spring in my step.  The world had changed, and I could hold my head up high.

Monday, May 26, 2008

Things you wish you never knew

Carolyn has tagged me.  Im sure you've all heard of the game.  Basically, the tagged person has to list seven strange and random personal things about themselves.  Then, you have to choose seven more bloggers to tag.  I wont tag, cuz most of the people I know on here have already been tagged.  That, plus I dont have very many readers to my blog.

So here is everything you wish you didnt know about me.

1.  I have an unhealthy fear of static electricity.  During the winter, I shut the car door with my foot to avoid getting shocked.  I even hesitate catching my daughter from the slide in order to avoid the static.

2.  As I child, I broke my front tooth in half and had to live with it like that for a couple years.  I never smiled in pictures.  As if that wasn't enough, my half-tooth turned gray.

3.  I have to shave every time I shower.  Otherwise, I feel dirty.

4.  Im considering pursuing a masters degree in psychology soon.

5.  I HATE thrills.  Save the rollercoasters and scary movies for those who enjoy triple bypass surgeries.  I like to keep my heart safe from suffering an attack.

6.  I turned down a huge job opportunity after college to become a missionary.

7.  Ive been trying to concieve again for a year and a half. 

And now you know it all...

Sunday, May 25, 2008

After three long years- summer is HERE!

Katy's finest day YET

Today was probably the best day in Katy's life. She had her first visit to a water park and she went NUTS! If any little kid deserved to have "their day," it was Katy. She is such an overcomer. She has fought and battled against every medical prognosis and has come out a winner time after time. Epilepsy, Hipotomia, extreme poor coordination, hypersensitivity- let me stop right there.

HYPERSENSITIVITY- every texture used to feel overwhelming for her. A little less than a year ago, even the touch of water was too much for her. She would bathe with her arms raised up in order not to touch the bath water. Naturally, beach and sand was out of the question.

But not anymore. After hours and hours and hours of play, we literally had to pry an over-exhausted but ecstatic little girl from the waterpark. To think that a year ago we feared that she might never walk or play!

Cheers to you, little honey! There are many more days like these up ahead.

(Ive tried and tried to upload a video, but the connection SUX and it wont let me. Ill be home next week and will do the upload.)


My husband can be so cute. I sent him out on an errand as I did my household chores. I went to the back yard for a bucket of water. It was when I opened the faucet that I noticed the strange movement. Just a few feet away from me was a four foot long snake, slithering past me. It only took a second, but it moved very far.

I froze.

The snake froze.

There we stood, staring at each other- getting better aquatinted. I noticed it was thin and black. It noticed I was having a bad hair day. Slowly, I backed away and went into the house to await my hero to come and rescue me.

An hour later, the sun had set and it was dark. Isaac came home and I told him the story. His eyes shone. There is something about catching snakes that always dazzles him. Before I had finished my recount of the events, he was up and around looking for a flash light.

He darted out into the yard, in search of danger. Its funny how eager he is when it comes to snakes. It had been an hour since the encounter, and the snake had probably gone very far. Nevertheless, Isaac persisted in the search. He ducked, he climbed, he stomped and stooped. After what seemed an eternity, he finally gave up- looking disappointed and let down. He can be so cute.

Monday, May 12, 2008

The (Low Protein) Soup- with MICHELLE

Quick updates on your favorite person. Me, of course!

Whats keepin ya?

It turns out that Katy hates it when Im at the computer. She JUST WONT LET ME TYPE. The moment I sit down, she comes to me, yanks at my arms and covers me with kisses. I guess its her way of saying

"I think youve had enough mom."

An Audience with the Big KAHOONA (sp?)

It turns out that some people in federal government are going to look into Katy's story. The director of Human Services in Mexico, and some Senators as well as some represantatives of the United Nations are going to give me a hearing.

They are interested in learning more about PKU and how to help change the way Mexico has handled this treatable condition. In other words- my daughter's story may change the course of the future for thousands of PKU babies in Mexico. They can have a hope and a future!

That is, if these people are touched and motivated to change...

The Hunt for the Perfect School

Isaac and I have been looking for a school for Katy for various months. We had an appointment today with one that I LOVED. Nothing is final, but this particular school is on the top of my list so far. Lets see what happens, shall we?

Meanwhile, I leave you with this song. It inspires me to strive when Im running on fumes.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

and the feel good moment of the day is...

Lets give it up for the eighties. What a movement! I wish we could see this effort more often

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

The Ox breaks the Yolk

Maybe Ive spent too much time alone lately.

Monday, May 5, 2008

Katy has a new website!

You simply MUST go and see Katy's new site. Its 'da bomb. Oh, yeah baby.

Thursday, May 1, 2008

My Evil Twin is Actually Me

I hang my head in shame as I type this.

Most people imagine that I am some kind of sweet, sensitive mom who loves company and is eager to take on the worlds challenges. The truth is that I have a college degree in theater and that I have been concealing the evil twin deep within me. Well, here's a newsflash for you-

My evil twin emerged.

This time, it was during a family trip that I made with my inlaws. If i had ever wanted to lose face and dignity, I finally got my big chance. I bet that the inlaws stay up late at night, worried for their son who married the Premenstrual Monster from Hell ...

Ive never liked to travel. For starters, I get motion sickness pretty easy. Then, Im almost sure that I have a moderate case of claustrophobia. In addition, I happen to be a paranoid, overprotective mother who must have meal plans and sleep schedule completely intact. Stuff me in a car full of family, suitcases and messy snacks for an extended period of time, and you get this:

Which is exactly the person I became for the period of ten days. I was short tempered, snappy, sarcastic and mean. For instance, one morning the whole family was sitting outside sipping coffee. Katy was running around pushing her new "grocery cart" (which she adores), when Isaac decided to water the grass.

But there was a leak in the water hose

In a matter of minutes, the entire front porch was covered in mud. It was then that my curious little tot decided to explore the nature of this muddy texture with HER ENTIRE BODY. At this point, everybody in the family decided to have an oppinion about what I should do. They sat eating toast and drinking coffee, calling out their suggestions in the chaotic nature of the a trading floor.

"Everybody has a different oppinon on what I should do!
Just let me do what I want!"

Silence fell so quickly that I wondered if time had frozen. One quick glace proved that the only thing I froze was a good morning cheer and a couple good intentions. I felt like a total jerk. One more time.

If only I could stop spewing verbal diarreah every time I fume. I wish that I could stop, count to ten, and deal with chaos in a calm and collected way. I have considered carrying a pack of starbursts in my purse and popping one in my mouth the moment I open it to speak. Heck- maybe a spoonful of peanut butter might do the trick. Something- anything that will tie my mouth down for a couple of seconds. That way, I can gather my thoughts before I lay them out to the entire world to see.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

Hole Mole! Its Flyiing POO- 2

The Huston to San Antonio flight is probably the shortest flight in the airline buisness. The plane basically goes up to the required altitude, holds its position for a minute and begins its decend. All in all, the trip takes half an hour. Its almost glorious.


The "fasten seatbelt" sign never goes off. Passengers are required to remain seated for the duration of the flight. As the plane began to desend, Katy scrunched up her face. It was the all-too-familiar- face of poop. It would be a good twenty or thirty minutes until I could reach an airport bathroom. I was embarrased, but I would have to change her on the seat.

I felt the squishy lump on the side of her pant leg. I bit my lip and braced myself . As I removed her pants, a turd the size of Alaska slid down her leg. Her diaper had overloaded. In an instant, the fowl odor filled the plane. Katy stuck her hand in and grabbed a piece of poop. Before I could do anything about it, she turned it into finger pait as she smooshed it in her hands and patted on the seats. It took four hands (Isaac and mine) to control the situation. Isaac held her down and I wiped her entire body.

I glanced up at the passengers. Some were holding their noses. Others, had a fist in front of their mouth (as if to hold back an urge to puke). I had to hurry. Meanwhile, Katy's soiled pants rested on the floor. They were my favorite, but there was no way that I could take them home like this. I would have to walk around with a bag of poop for the next hour in order to salvage them. Instead, I found a plastic bag and pitched them.

At long last, all was "clean" and Katy sat merrily on her seat. Wearing only a t-shirt and a diaper, she tapped cheerfully on her belt buckle, completely unaware of how inappropriate the entire ordeal had been. For the rest of the flight, I sat facing forward and avoided any eye contact with the passengers.

Good thing it was a short flight.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Michelle is temporatily out of service

Michelle has had a long week. It appears that her engine is in need of some maintenance. Reparation is underway and she will kick back into gear in no time. We apologize for the inconvenience.

In the meantime, here is a list of whats coming soon-

  • "Holy Mole! Its flying poo- II" (in which a poopy diaper explodes during an airplane landing)

  • "My Evil Twin is Actually Me" (In which michelle throws numerous fits during a week long trip, shaming herself with the inlaws)

  • "My Very Own Meteor shower-3" (in which a rain of developmental milestones land in Katy's path to recovery)

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

My very own meteor shower- part 2

Even though I would never admit it in public, I spent a great deal of my teenage years dreaming of my “prince charming.” I was always trying to be the funny one, or the tough one, but deep inside me was a princess waiting for a knight in shining armor. I remember sitting in the middle of the evergreen forest that surrounded my Washington home as I fabricated romantic plots in my head.

The man of my dreams would be tall, and have brown hair. He would be both, a strong leader and a capable comedian. As a lover of nature, he would enjoy camping, fishing and swimming in the ocean. He would be a musician, and above all- he would be a head over heels, love struck follower of God, devoted to serve Him for life.

The first time I saw Isaac I thought my blood would drain straight down to my feet. I became dizzy and weak. My heart pounded loudly in my chest, and my pupils dilated. I tried as hard as I could hide my emotions. I thought that I was doing OK, until the moment his eyes made contact with mine. Then, I was sure that my stare betrayed my secret. It was the strongest emotion I have ever felt. I was sick with love, and yes, it happened at first sight.

As we got to know each other, I screened him through and trough. With each new detail that unraveled about him, I discovered that the prince charming I had dreamed of was not imaginary. He was real, and he was with me. It was overwhelming to find that he felt the same way about me. Only one thing was missing from my “check list.” He was not musically inclined. It was not a big deal. I was crazy in love with him, and a little element like that made no difference whatsoever.

Two years later, I walked down the isle in my white gown. Isaac was standing at the altar, surrounded by candles. He looked breathtakingly handsome in his three piece silver suit. I was actually living the very same fairy tale that I had written in my head years before.

After five years of marriage, we were given the greatest blessing that a man and a woman can receive. A child of their own. Only one year later, we found ourselves in the geneticist’s office, listening to the toughest news of our lives.

“Your daughter is severely retarded”

“We can’t control her seizures”

“We hope she can walk by age five”

“Her damaged cerebellum will challenge her sense of balance for life.”

In prayer and desperation, Isaac wrote a song for our little girl. It was a song about God’s faithfulness to his people- and a reminder of the promise we have in Him. At first he could not sing the entire song. Isaac’s voice cracked as he broke into tears, time and time again. Nevertheless, he continued believing in the midst of a storm. If we came back from a doctor’s office with more bad news- he sang. If Katy had one more seizure or hallucination- he sang. If our little baby would lie there unresponsive- he sang. The song became our anthem and our cry of faith.

One song led to another and another, and another. Pretty soon, Isaac had a collection of songs to inspire our faith and remind us of God’s goodness. Not even a year later, we found ourselves surrounded by blessing after blessing. Katy’s seizures inexplicably disappeared. She began to respond to us. To make eye contact and to smile. She learned her name and turned our way when we called. She began to use her hands, she learned to sit, crawl, stand and against all odds- walk.

Soon, our church was singing the same songs that we first sang in the privacy of our living room. The very songs that kept us alive at three in the morning when we thought we would die. It was these very songs that began to inspire the faith of hundreds of people. Then, the unexpected happened.

Isaac was offered to give a concert at a conference with three thousand people. In what seemed like a second, a band was formed and his songs were published and copywriten. Just like that, Isaac found himself standing on a stage, in the middle of a crowd with every single eye glued on him. He told the story. The one of Katy and of our cry of faith. The people began to weep as Isaac’s voice broke once again. But this time it was not out of heartbreak. It was out of gratitude and relief. The guitar began to strum. The message of the song echoed through the auditorium.

“You’ve given me the heritage of those who fear your name…”

Tear covered faces were scattered through the auditorium as the blue lighting intensified on the stage. The chorus of the song repeated, each time more impassioned and determined. And then, out of the corner of the stage- a two year old little girl, walking as she made her way to the center. With each little step, she became a living testimony of God’s love and faithfulness. She made her way further in, walking towards the man who had clung to hope against hope for her recovery. Her dad.

In just one second, Katy’s story became a miracle on public display. Every person stood motionless, as they watched my little girl walking perfectly towards her daddy. Everywhere I looked, someone was crying. Isaac picked her up and held her tight, as he finished his song. Suddenly- a standing ovation. It was a thunderous sound of victory. Then I knew-

It was all worth it.

Isaac had not even gotten off the stage before people were crowding him. He received numerous invitations to other cities and several recording opportunities. In less than a month, he has already started a tour and production for his first solo album is already underway.

It’s amazing what can happen when you cling to faith. Some trials are over quick, and others are a long journey. Even though we can’t always choose our circumstances, we have the power to choose our response to them. It’s not the event itself that will determine the outcome; it’s what you choose to make of it that will shape the future. Isaac and I decided to believe against all odds, and openly share our story for the world to see. As a result, hundreds of hurting people have begun to respond in faith as they too- cling for hope against hope.

Believe me when I tell you- this is only the beginning. There is more, much more to come…