Holiday Travel 2013: The Shortest Story

This year's holiday travel was set to commence at 2:40. No early morning flight this year.

I slept in, took a shower, curled my hair, and finished packing.

My bestie brought me to SeaTac International Airport.

I had already checked in online, so I merely had to approach the kiosk and print the luggage tag for my checked luggage.

Done and Done.

 



After chowing down on a Southwest Chicken Salad from McDonald's, we were free to begin boarding. Then it was up, smooth sailing, and back down. All in 2 hours and 16 minutes.



And then....DENVER. Oh, Denver. How I've come to loath you. "Loathing, unadulterated loathing, for your planes, your waits, your boarding...let's just say, I loath it all!"

But there was nothing to loathe this year. For the angels were singing and planes were boarding. ON TIME. Well, the plane left the gate on time. Then it was time for de-icer. Lord, have mercy. Talk about being held hostage on an airplane.

***Fast Forward through 45 minutes during which I kept waiting for the wretched "Ladies and Gentleman, we apologize for the inconvenience, however, while being de-iced, it came to our attention that we are missing the left phalange. We'll be heading back to the gate to have this fictional problem fixed immediately. We hope to have you back up in the friendly skies by Tuesday."

But the announcement never came. And we were back up in the friendly skies by 9:30 p.m.

And then, there he was. In all his statue glory. Mr. Joe Foss himself.



 

Now, I feel that it's fair to share with you that I don't have any idea who Joe Foss actually was. But the Sioux Falls Regional Airport clearly holds him in high regard as they've named their airfield after him. I'm sure he's no Ron Burgundy, but he's still a big deal.

 

My apologies to everyone who placed high bets on my holiday travel this year. I'm sure that money will find it's way back to you again someday soon. Remember, I still have a return flight. Shudder.

 

Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!

 

xoxo

E

Insta-Catchup!

This blog post is coming to you courtesy of Instagram, my saving grace during this Christmas season. And fall season. And pretty much summer and spring, too. So, every season. A tip of the hat to you, Instagram, for documenting my life in 2013.

So, there were wine and cheese parties...

...and there was Christmas decorating in a new house.

There was a lighted parade in frigid temps...

 

...and there was a staff Christmas party on the same night as a Seahawks game. Another tip of the hat; this time to the iPhone and live streaming.

 

 There were wind storms...

...and more wine and cheese parties. This time was girls only.

 

There was a holiday baking exchange with girlfriends...

...and Christmas carols sung by little friends.

There was a white elephant gift exchange...

...and lots of anticipation for Baby V-Dub.



There was White Cape Wonder pregame...

...and there were snow days.

 

 

Incredibly inconvenient snow days.

 

At least my house looks cute in snow.

 

And now, I'm freezing my hookadooter off in Iowa. We had a high of -1 degree today, folks. According to my AccuWeather app, "Today is a poor day for outdoor fitness."

 

Thank you, AccuWeather. I got that when I walked outside and STOPPED BREATHING.

 

Tomorrow is supposed to warm up. A high of 19. Friday is going to feel like a heat wave when we hit 31 degrees.

 

Off to eat mom's roast and potatoes,

 

xoxo

E

I could actually SEE the HAWKS

This one time, a friend and I scored tickets to a Seahawks game.

IT. WAS. AWESOME.

Take a look at that field.

Let me tell you, sitting in the lower "bowl" sure beats the nosebleeds. We could read the numbers on the jerseys, AND, we were partially blinded by Pete Carroll's bright, white sideline shoes. I am also partially deaf in both ears due to the incredibly loud allegiance of the 12th Man. AND I AM NOT KIDDING. IT WAS SO LOUD IN THERE. PERHAPS I SHOULD SHOUT THE REST OF THIS POST. But I won't. You're welcome.

Last time I went to a Seahawks game, it was also a very memorable experience. And not just because it was my first NFL game. The night before, there was a massive snowstorm. In fact, the only reason that my friends and I still attended the game was because a Dodge Ram 4x4 was involved. Ain't no snow gonna slow us down! Who cares that we can't see the lines on the freeway. Pick a lane, any lane. Even if it's not a real lane. Also, I had to get my hookadooter down to Seattle as I was scheduled to fly to Iowa the next morning for Christmas break. Another flight that was cancelled, but that's another story for another post.

So, we made it to Seattle through the great white I5 corridor. We parked the truck and spent the next 23.5 minutes putting on layer after layer after layer. After walking block after block to the stadium, we began the great ascent. The great accent that never seemed to end. At one point, I think we all stopped to nurse my nosebleed due to the change in elevation. And then, we reached row Y. Y for "You can't go any further". For four quarters, we tried not to get hypothermia while being entertained by the Hawks Nest throwing snowballs at Jets quarterback, Brett Favre, and a rowdy group of drunk Santas seated in front of us. What a day it was.

This recent experience was just a bit different.

1. There was no snow. It was actually almost warm before the sun disappeared behind the stadium

2. I could differentiate between the Seahawks and the opposing team.

3. I had a comfortable, leather padded chair.

4. I didn't need to use my inhaler half way up the stairs.

5. I didn't get a single nose bleed.

Objects in picture below are closer than they appear.

 

I grew up rooting for the Vikings. It was a weird feeling to cheer against them. A big, "I'm sorry" to my beloved brothers. Especially for the first three and a half minutes of the fourth quarter. That was ugly. For the Vikes. It was a beautiful few minutes for the Hawks.

 

And then, it was all over, and we went home. Watching on T.V. will never be the same. Though, I do love myself a DVR. Taking an hour break during halftime to grab dinner is so nice. Standing in line for garlic fries for a third of the second quarter was not so nice. We didn't miss much, though. A tip of the hat to you, Seahawks, for keeping things low key while Thelma and Louise were drowning their garlic fries in ketchup.

 

Now I'm hungry.

 

xoxo

E



11-12-13

From my little corner of the world to yours....

Happy 11-12-13!!!

Life after the Crap Storm

The nice thing about back surgery, herniated disc surgery in particular, is that the excruciating pain occurs BEFORE surgery. The only pain post-surgery is incision related. I still need to be careful. No heavy lifting. No funny twisting or bending. NO RUNNING. That's a big one. No need to herniate what's left of the disc. And that ain't much, folks.

So, all I have to do is "take it easy". Sounds simply enough, right?

Wrong.

It's amazing how many things I do on a daily basis that do not fall under the category of "Taking it Easy." Especially, as a new home owner. Especially, as a new home owner during the fall.

Exhibit A:

Now, isn't that front porch just about the cutest darn thing you've ever seen in your life?! I was beyond psyched to finally have a front porch to decorate during my favorite season of the entire year. And then I had back surgery. And as a result, I cannot even lift a pumpkin. That's right - A pumpkin. Singular. The little white ones, yes. Any pumpkin larger than a dodge ball? No. Especially back in early October. Therefore, I enlisted a helper. And by "helper", I mean someone to do ALL the work. My job was to stand and point.

What a gal. Little did she know that when she told me post-surgery, "Let me know if you need ANYTHING!" that "anything" would mean heavy, manual labor.

And speaking of manual labor, check out -

Exhibit B:

Leaves. The bane of my existence during the fall season. So, why wouldn't I buy a house with four huge maple trees on the property. And because I have a moral compass and refuse to simply rake them onto the street, making them the city's problem, I enlisted some pretty helpers. They raked their little hearts out. A week later, I had two little boys come over on a half day of school, and while they did an excellent job raking, they did an even better job playing in the huge pile of leaves they had accumulated in the back yard. Boys will be boys, I guess.

But then there's the good things that come post-surgery.

Like going back to school. In the fog.

Fogtober was a beautiful month. Not a single drop of rain. Well, unless you count the clouds resting on the playground rain.

And then there was my first Halloween as a homeowner.

 

Ariel replaced Flounder with a cute little monster. They were the first trick-or-treaters at "Foffy's" house.

 

*** Quick Lesson ***

 

Foffy originates from FOF, which is an acronym for Friend Of Family. Therefore, I am "Foffy" to a particular group of Littles in my life. I look forward to the day when they're all yelling at Foffy on the playground and their friends look at them strangely, because "Foffy" sounds nothing like "Miss K".

 

*** End of Lesson ***

 

So, life post-surgery has been great. And incredibly busy. Apparently, when a teacher misses essentially 3 weeks of school there is A LOT of catching up to do. Regardless of how fantastic the substitute was.

 

I feel like I'm finally back in the groove of things. The first quarter has come to a close, report cards were sent home, and parent-teacher conferences were enjoyed by all. My goal now is to be present during all nine weeks of the next three quarters. No more of this "I missed a third of the quarter!" crap.

 

xoxo

E

The Crap Storm: A Shorter Story

Let's review where we've been, shall we?

I had back surgery.

It went swimmingly.

Moving on...

My mommy came to be my nurse. She spoiled me. Well, as much as a Nazi nurse can spoil someone. She's been around the bases of surgery a few times with my beloved father, so this was like preschool for her.

Her rules:
1. Stay ahead of the game on pain meds. I just got rid of chronic back pain. No need to become a chronic whiner of pain, because I'm two hours behind on popping the Vicodin.
2. Nap regularly.
3. Nap regularly IN your bed.
4. Leave your phone IN the living room while you nap IN your bed.
5. Walk around the block regularly. And by "regularly", she meant at least four times a day.

And while I slept in my phone-free bedroom, momma stayed busy doing laundry, cleaning my kitchen, dusting and vacuuming, and catching up on her reading.

In between taking naps and walking around the block, I stayed busy chatting it up with friends who stopped by to visit.

Let me tell you, folks. If you ever really want to feel loved, have back surgery.

There were flower deliveries from Lynden and Rock Valley...

 

Homemade cards from concerned pseudo nieces...

A basket of my favorite things from my Littles at school...
Meals on wheels from friends at church...
Grocery store runs made by dear friends...
Gatorade and cracker deliveries during the early stages of recovery/pre-mom's visit...
Coffee deliveries...
Lunch deliveries...
A basket of things to keep me occupied from my beloved colleagues...wait, that came out wrong. It was a basket FROM my colleagues. And the basket was filled with things to keep me occupied. That's better.

I was feelin' the love. And then I started to feel the squeeze of recovery. Having surgery was one thing. I was ready to be pain-free. It was the two and a half weeks AFTER surgery that rocked my world. I did not handle the absence from my Littles very well. AT. ALL.

One week after surgery, I snapped out of my Vicodin induced funk, and momma took me to school to visit my favorite little people in the whole wide world.

 

Look at those little faces. Be still my heart. And yes, that's an inter tube around my waist. And yes, that sign says, "No Hugging". I needed to protect myself from little hands and knuckles attached to arms that, when wrapped around my waist, come to rest on the epicenter of pain - my incision.

 

It's been three and a half weeks since the storm ensued, and every day I feel stronger. I can tell when I've been on my feet too long, or when I am too active. The recess duty teacher in me is going crazy. The youth leader in me is going crazy. The early morning workout girl in me is walking the fine line between crazy and psycho.

 

But, I'm back at school with my Littles, so I am happy, happy, happy. Let's add one more 'happy'. That's how happy I am. So, so happy.

 

xoxo

 

E



The Crap Storm: A Short Story

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a beautiful....

Oh, forget it. I'm not about to foo foo this crap storm.

I had back surgery. Yep. Surgery. I was cut open, and something was taken out of me, and now I feel like I can run a marathon. Well, maybe not a marathon, I'm still regaining strength that was lost in my left leg and foot. Maybe I'll just start with running around the block. In, like, 3 months.

Let's go back in time with the Ghost of Back Pain Past, shall we?

***Time Warp***

After dealing with recurring lower back pain for a couple of years, in January the poop hit the fan. The pain became so severe, an MRI was ordered, and results showed a bulging disc between my L4 and L5 vertebrae. Super duper. Fantastic. Wonderful. I already knew I was my father's daughter. My dark hair. My spell bounding green eyes. My quit wit. By all means, let's add chronic back pain to the list, as well. The temporary fix? A cortisone shot directly into the epicenter of pain. This was to be followed by lighter exercise, more specifically, NO RUNNING, and some simple physical therapy techniques to help what has now become my inspiration behind writing and performing a top single on the Billboard charts titled, "Back That Disc Up". I'm shooting for a Spring 2014 release date.

***Time Warp***

We are now back with the Ghost of Back Pain Present. Sort of. Because we do have to go back into the past again. But not far. So I'm not sure if this tour should be guided by the Ghost of Back Pain Past or the Ghost of Back Pain Present. Or perhaps, the Ghost of Back Pain Sort Of Past and Sort of Present.

Hmmmmmm.......

Anesthesia brain. Still in effect.

Anywaaaaaaaay, in September, it became very clear, very quickly, that my inspirational single would never make the charts, because the disc that was supposed to back up did not, indeed, back up. How did this occur to me so clearly and so quickly, you ask? Well, I got a wild hair and decided to pick up the hobby I was strictly told not to participate in - running. Hey, how am I going to know whether or not I'm ready for a hit single if I don't give it a shot. Well, then I got hit with my best shot and promptly thrown flat on my back. Lesson learned. I'm not better. Crap bag.

***Fast forward through a few minor "Crap, I threw out my back!" episodes, a lower back massage, a prescription for muscle relaxers, and 15 bottles of wine over the next two weeks....kidding. Sort of....***

It it now Monday, September 30. A day that will live in infamy. Not only because it was the day that marked the beginning of the end of pain, but also, because it marked the last day of coverage for the 2012-2013 year of medical insurance. A year in which my deductible had been met. Are you picking up what I'm throwing down here, folks??? If not, give it time. You'll get there.

After experiencing yet another set back at school and coming home early, I spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening flat on the floor. Later in the evening, I went to get something out of the backseat of my car, and when I stood up, I collapsed. Shooting pain. Everywhere. How I managed to get myself back into the house is still a mystery to me. I spent the night sleeping on the floor, because my bed was too soft. When I woke up Tuesday morning, the pain was still as strong as ever, and my left leg had gone numb. What's that? You want me to move my toes? Sorry. I can't.

***Fast forward through an urgent phone call to an orthopedic surgeon, a rushed MRI, and a sit down with the surgeon post-MRI, all within a 2 hour time frame...***

I am told that my bulging disc is no longer bulging. It's no longer bulging, because it has now herniated, and has wreaked havoc on my sciatic nerve. The solution? Going under the knife. That was not a surprise to me. I knew when the stabbing pain and numbness started that I had a problem. It was being told that I needed to take a required two weeks off and away from my little people at school that rocked my entire existence.

So Wednesday arrived, and with it, a time for surgery set to commence at 4:30. Given 24 hours to process this entire fiasco was not exactly a lot of time. In fact, I held it together really well until I was taken back for prep. I wasn't nervous. I wasn't anxious. I was so ready to be done with the pain. I knew I was in the best and most capable of hands, so I went in with a BRING IT ON attitude. But then, once behind the curtain, things suddenly became very real. Over the next 2 1/2 hours, I saw and heard patients come and go. And then it was quiet. My gal-pal, Melinda, came and sat with me for an hour to help me pass the time, and then she passed the baton to my beloved Auntie who was the last person to wish me well before I was wheeled into the OR. And then, nothing. Until........helloooooooooo, recovery after anesthesia! And hellooooooooooooo feeling in my leg and moving toes!

Two and a half hours later, Uncle and Auntie had driven me home, and I was spending the night in my own bed.

The end.

OK, not really, but I'm tired, and I need to walk around the block one more time before bed.

On the next episode of "The Crap Storm: A Short Story" - mommy comes to visit, I become one with my bed, and Vicodin is my new BFF.

xoxo
E