MIA

It's been about six weeks since my last blog post. Essentially what happened was one month of working overnight shifts threw my system into a complete and utter tailspin. During the course of that month I also flew to California for staff training for the camp I was going to be a counselor at in early September. Going to be...as in...it didn't happen.

Instead, my son returned from his jaunt to camp excited, full of stories about his 5 days of adventures. We were overwhelmed during the time period that he was gone and relieved when he returned. I underestimated how emotional the whole process of sending my child off to a different state for camp would be. How difficult it would be to not talk to him or see his beautiful face everyday. That tears that would come from both he and I the moment we saw each other at the airport and I held him in my arms again.

I digress...what happened was Craig and Chris had been sick all week. I had been taking vitamins, airborne, anything I could to not get sick. Unfortunately, I also worked three overnights during that week. Lo and behold the day before I was to get on the plane to go, I got sick. As the mother of a heart child, I understand the far reaching consequences of your child getting anything upper respiratory. It can quickly turn into something far worse than a common cold. The gist of this was I contacted the medical director of the camp. After hearing my symptoms, she politely asked me to stay home. My bags were packed and I was devastated. While I understood and agreed with the determination, it did nothing to ease my disappointment.

This seemed to be the first in a series of challenges I would face in the weeks to come. It was a slow process regaining my footing and health. There was an er visit over the weekend I was supposed to be at camp due to some difficulty breathing, which ended with a prescription for an inhaler and instructions to get some rest. There were the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed to help ease my insomnia that left me drooling and semi comatose, needless to say I only took them twice. Then there was the determination that we needed to rent our house out and buy another one. I won't go into details as to the contributing factors. I will however say it was one of the hardest decisions Craig and I have ever had to make. We love our home, it is the only one our kids can remember, but it truly is the best move for our family right now. I need to focus on school, cut back on work, finish my degree, get a job in the nursing field. We need to move forward instead continuing to get pulled further and further underwater by our house.

The upside is I have recovered and am back to working days. My confidence has been restored and I am looking forward to a new chapter in our family's life. After a month of searching we made an offer on 4 houses yesterday, keeping our fingers crossed that one will be accepted. My packet should be coming with my school schedule any day now. While I did not win the Zoni for best director, the theater I am managing artistic director of won for Best Overall Children's production. It was an incredible night and I couldn't have been prouder accepting the award for the theater! The weather is turning bringing with it the promise of a new season and my favorite time of year. My 35th birthday is quickly approaching and we are planning a trip to Tucson with some friends to see Kartchner Caverns and go apple and pumpkin picking with the kids at an orchard in Willcox. All in all things are looking up. I can see the bright spots in my daily life again. Now, I am just keeping my finger's crossed that Cam's cardiology check up goes well on Wednesday and he gets another clean bill of health.

A New Chapter

Last week was one of the best weeks of my life. Following on the
heels of the Zoni nominations on Monday, Friday I was offered a spot in the Banner Fellows Nursing Program that starts in October. Which means 18 months from now I will graduate with my RN. It seems like just yesterday I was trying to fit my prereq's in between diaper changes, naps, and Cam's first year of school. Last week was the beginning of the end of that chapter of my life. This morning Craig and I took the girls to their first day of Kindergarten and Cameron to 3rd grade.

It was such a bittersweet moment to see my babies off. I thought

I would be ecstatic for them to finally be in school all day.

Happy to have my days free and finish school myself. Instead, I find myself wistful, nostalgic, a little sad even. Recalling last year and the four prior. Days spent just me and the girls, hanging out, playing, having adventures together, sharing secrets. Tears came in the car on the way home. No little chattering monkeys in the back seat. My house is still, quiet, untouched by the sounds of laughter and play. The hours drag by. My heart hurts today. I truly didn't think it would be this hard. The truth is those days were so precious and now they are gone.

Ten weeks. That is how long I have to adjust to this new chapter

of my life as it unfolds before me. Until school starts, sweeping me into a haze of studying, clinicals, the completion of my degree. For now, I am going to sit back and start planning...and counting the days until the kids' fall break.

A Full Month

Just returned last Friday from our long awaited two week vacation to Chicago, Michigan, and Indiana. There is a long post to come with pictures and tales of our various adventures. For now, I will just say that it was incredible, relaxing, a time for reconnecting with old friends and meeting new ones. The weather was beautiful, Chicago amazing - can't wait to go back. A few things happened during the past month I want to mention. First, the children's production I directed back in May was nominated for 4 Zoni's including Best Production and a Best Director's nod for myself. I was stunned and thrilled and owe it all to the amazing cast, all 22 of them and their supportive parents, not to mention an fantastic, talented Asst Director! Also, the week before we left I had my long awaited interview for Banner Fellows. Friday I will find out of I have been chosen as one of 30 for their fall cohort, it would be an honor and privilege to finish nursing school as a Fellow! More to come tomorrow, off to work this morning.

Fourth of July

Thirteen years ago Craig and I were married on the 4th of July. This man was and still is my best friend, lover, travel companion, conspirator, sparring partner, father of my children, the only man I have ever truly loved. These past 13 years have been filled with laughter, struggles, adventure, pain, challenges that pushed us to the brink. There were moments I would not have survived without his strength, moments of grief that tore us apart and then brought us back to each other. The birth of our first son together, followed by the shared tears and heartbreak when learning of his heart condition at 3 days old. The fear and anticipation over Cam's three surgeries, followed by relief over his recoveries. The celebration and joy over the birth of our healthy twin girls. Small snippets of days, fights, moments that are only ours - moments that over the years have shaped our marriage, our relationship in countless ways. There is no one else I can imagine sharing my life, my heart, my family with than Craig. He knows me in a way no one else ever has and to my sheer amazement and great joy he loves me even more than I ever could have anticipated. Finding and sharing my life with him has made me want to be a better person for him, for us, for our family, for our life together now and in the future.

This year was obviously very different than the one we shared together 13 years ago. I surprised our family with an overnight stay at a local resort that has a water park. The kids were thrilled, Craig and I tolerated the people, the lines, the crowds. After a while, we relaxed and focused on our kids. Splashing and playing in the pools, laughing and screaming on our way down the water slide, dinner at a local spot. This day was about all of us, the family we have made together and the many years to come as we raise our children. As the evening neared the end, we hopped on the light rail headed for Indian Steele Park to enjoy the fireworks or at least that was the plan. The light rail train in front of us broke down. After assessing the situation, we decided to walk the rest of the way through the warm summer evening. We didn't quite make it to the park, instead staking out a spot on the front lawn of Brophy Prep, away from the crowds we oohed and aahed over the fireworks display. As we adjusted our plans, there was no argument, no frustrations, we adapted, changed, moved forward together as we always have. It seems we have learned over the past 13 years that the most important thing in this life is that we are together no matter what direction life takes us in. Though I don't know what lies ahead of us, I know one thing. I want this man, my husband by my side, no matter what comes next.

A Time to Dance

When I was 4 years old my mother took me to Miss Genevieve's School of Dance near our home in Long Island. The pictures from those first few years of recitals reflect a happy, smiling little girl. Dressed in the requisite layers of tulle and frills, tap or ballet shoes on her feet enjoying every moment. Once we moved to Arizona, those dance classes became for me endless hours of torture. The giggles and innocence of little girls turned into cattiness accompanied by a level of competitiveness I dreaded. Truth be told, I was not much of a dancer. I was a dreamer, searching for every opportunity to lose myself in a book, or write in my journal. So, after much begging and pleading on my part followed by downright refusal to go on any longer, I quit dance for good.


Last week, I sat in an auditorium surrounded by vivid memories of those dance classes and recitals. For the past six months, my girls have been taking tap/ballet classes once a week. Their first recital was for them one of the highlights of their summer. For me, I had to take deep breaths, reminding myself this is one of the many things I have and will continue to do for my children. Given the choice, I would have been anywhere, but in that auditorium surrounded by pageantry and stage moms. They were lovely, in that sweet effervescent way only little girls can be. They smiled, giggled, tapped their way through their routine in their own layers of frills and tulle. There were my daughters, enjoying their first moment on stage, while I with tears in my eyes sat watching, cheering them on. Despite my hesitations, not to mention the two painful hours of performance I was subjected to during the course of the recital. I wouldn't have missed their five minutes for the world.