True Story

Last week I was in LA for work. There are so many stories as to the weekend, this one will likely not be believed but it is a true story, true story.

Sunday after a ringer of a week, while Murphy's Law ran it's course through my life as it typically does I sought solace in a conversation with my beloved. Before I left for my phone pacing a friend passed me a chocolate bar and said, "While I can't give you a raise, I'll give you $100,000." And off she passed me a delicious candy bar, 100 Grand.

As I talked to my baby's daddy I unwrapped the deliciousness that was my chocolate bar and continued on with my laps around the hotel's front drive way and realized hunger was setting in. Luckily I had a candy bar to save the day. I dug out the 100 Grand and began to go to town as I recounted the last few days to C. As I chomped on the melting chocolate in the heat and flubbed around the fountain in the front of the hotel I looked over to my right only to see who? The person no one wants to see as you chomp down on big ol'candy bar.

Bob Harper

Clear as day. The Biggest Loser was taping in our hotel for a few days, and of course at that very moment I had to get caught out for my dirty little secret.

In his car, waiting for someone as I crunched on my chocolate bar with it melting and the wrapper peeled down over my hands, there sat Bob the trainer. Kicked while down, I saw Bob and I will never eat another chocolate bar again*

*in LA where I might run into a trainer from TV.

L: April 09

Not my daughter

FYI

I'm a crier. It turns out. I think I always got a cry out now and again. The tear tides have turned and now I cry at most things. The thought of my baby girl, good times and bad. When I came home from a long business trip Monday, I cried when I saw her. When I'm happy, sad, tired, stressed, frustrated, overwhelmed with joy, for just about any reason, I cry it out. I don't think it's a bad thing and I certainly won't apologize for it. My name is jCg and I cry. Just thought you should know.

Sticking My Toes In

I have a group of friends (chosen family) who, back in the day, when we went out to eat I'd be at the place that boasted the largest choice of beers on tap (but no bud light, go figure). We'd order the same thing and pregame before our meal. Or we wouldn't eat out at all and get grub delivered at places that we could see from our porch. Sad, but true. Bar crawls, a power hours, flip cups, oh my.

I still have that group but oh how the dynamics have changed. Today an E of E2 said, "Pretty soon we will be out numbered." Watching us grow and change is like watching a wonderful and fakcakaed movie. If we lived closer and could see each other more frequently I'm fairly certain my head with implode, mostly because it feels like the world's axis has been put on it's head.

Today, as we met for a quick lunch, at a chain restaurant with balloons on the ceiling, crayons given with the menus and so noisy the volume is at a screaming loud level. There were things that weren't different. We were loud enough to compete with the noise level and we ate like we were in an eating competition. This time we had to juggle kiddie menus and baby food with it all, but we handled it like champs. It's how we do.

Small Person Big Life

I'm consumed with so much about Maddie's story. There has been an out pouring of love, prayers, thoughts, efforts ... it's crashed websites, raised awareness and sparked participation in walks across the country. The original Maddie team has raised almost 40K (to date) while thousands more has been raised in her name with walks happening across the country. The whole Internet is purple. Purple hats & blankets are being knit for NICU babies across the country and some moms are delivering a Parent's Survival Kit for NICU parents. People are wearing purple, changed blogs purple and hundreds of avatars on twitter purple. It's a beautiful testament to the power of love and people. I know Maddie's Mom & Dad will hold her in their hearts forever. . and as much as all of the support, love and prayers are over whelming it will never be enough.

This kind of tragedy as awful as it is, every second of it, makes me appreciate time with my family, my friends and my beloved wee one; every second of it. I keep coming here to write about our Easter weekend or L's new found love for shoes. My pride in her love for flops and horror for her passion for heels. I have videos & pictures of her new passions as well as her new hobby of strip teasing upon waking up.

Right now though I can't get into all that, because I'm thinking of a mom who could have been me and Dad who could just as well be C who lost the love of their life. What can you do for someone you don't know but consumes you? I'm continuing to send love, peace & a little bit of awareness.

A Heart Stops

There is tragedy everywhere. This past weekend while watching the news, I started to snooze but couldn't find a way to tune it out. I realized in that moment the reason why I don't watch the news and get my updates from People and PinkIsTheNewBlog. Life can be too depressing. Twitter, for example, is an outlet for entertainment. I follow those who while aren't always sunshine and roses, are real and seem to be my kind of people. A few friends and a few people whose blogs I read. There is something to be said to not feel so alone. To read the words of other moms, woman, and people who sometimes seem to be in my head. Yesterday, I took a look and started to see random updates I didn't understand. A girl named Maddie, in the hospital. I clicked through and saw some updates and posts about her time in the PICU. It brought me back to our time in a hospital and I thought I might email Maddie's mom & dad, send my prayers, thoughts, good juju her way when I got home. It's good to not feel so alone, even if it's a stranger standing with you.

I got home, looked in on homeslice, pausing for a minute.

I got ready to write the email, had to find where to send it. The updates seemed familiar, doctors doing rounds, monitors, nurses, abbreviations I've seen before, some I haven't - you train yourself to scroll down than up to read as if like a different language updates have a direction.

"They're going to intubate her, I'm freaking out"

Madeline Alice died that day, unexpectedly and sudden. I don't know these people, but unexplainable as it might seem, my heart stopped for them. I ached for this family I have "known" for less than five minutes. I read more about their journey and it all looked so familiar, the destination one I don't understand. How could their little girl be taken from them? It's all so strange to feel so much for a stranger, to ache for another.

This year they signed up for their second March of Dimes Walk, excited Maddie would join them this time. Their goal was $3000. Now as life changes and a viral community comes together it shows us what is really possible. The traffic on the site hosting the family's blog became so overwhelmed it crashed and those that can, did - and came to the rescue. Now, they are close to a milestone of 25K. As I continue to read about how the people have come together there is a fund for the family that has started, over 300 (and more coming) posts in her honor, people are wearing purple for her, sending out purple balloons in her honor, turning blogs and twitter pages purple, organizing food delivery to their home, and so much more. They are being there in a way whether they truly know the family or not will likely not soon be forgotten. Much like this little girl and her family hold a place in my thoughts and my heart, and will likely not be forgotten.

It's a wonderful thing to witness, even from a distance, but an unspeakable and indescribable event to catapult such an awe inspiring result.

Tell the ones you love, you love them. Always.

Dear L,

If I haven't told you lately, you're my favorite little girl. I am blessed to be able to hug you on the daily and love you always. I always know how lucky I am, but today I am reminded that it's all in someone elses hand. I haven't written you a letter in awhile and I just wanted you to know that we're lucky to have each other, even if you get mad when I don't let you dive bomb off the couch. It's for your own good. There I said it.

Love you much. Love you always,
Momma

Drunk Dialing

Remeber drunk dialing? Most commonly tied to booty calls but not linked exlusively to one another. The night before last I started to get increasingly frequent texts from Kim. She is making an appearance, north of the boardersnd visiting our ol'stomping grounds. All of a sudden it went radio silence, and off to sleep I went until the texting returned. This time, however, Kim had another friend, Matt do her bidding. It's midnight and I am a clear victim of drunk texting. Truth be told I was up anyway, and texting is one thing....

Then the phone rang. It was that time of the night we have likely all been at. I could hear the cars in the street, people piling out of the bar and Kim's words piggybacked into one another that most people wouldnt understand. I speak kim so I got the jest of what she was saying. Love was flowing to me and to her boys of yore, suggesting plans that were not realistic in hopes to secure my participation in the weekend ahead. I got drink dialed, and while it wasn't a booty call, it was equally as hilarious. Not do hilarious is the day that followed. I'm too old to be the phone until close to one and off to work in the morning. Way too old.

Mobile Blogging from here.

[Posted with iBlogger from my iPhone]