House Update #6-18!

Just as I'm feeling like life is literally standing still, I swing by the "big hole" and am shocked by how quickly things are actually flying by.

 

WHINE, CHEESE! & HOUSE UPDATE #5

It's 11:38pm. My son and husband are sound asleep in their warm, comfy beds. I'm sitting at the dining room table. Working. In a few minutes, I'll shut down, brush my teeth, and collapse under the sheets. Bright and early tomorrow morning, I'll be back at my desk to do it all over again. And I'll still be a month behind.

So I just keep telling myself it'll get better. Because while it seems like work is all there is, I remember there's this:

Horsie!

And this:

Peanut Butter!

And THIS:

The ICFs have arrived!

HOUSE UPDATE #4

OK, so I lied. (Clearly I don't know too much about home building.) The last photo did not, in fact, feature "footers" as indicated, but rather the framing for the footers. Tonight, I redeem myself by sharing an updated photo featuring the actual footers... fully poured and setting nicely!

If I hadn't said anything, would you really have known?

LOVE, LAUGHTER

Today, as on most days, I found myself running from one meeting to the next. I was shuffling along, trying not to bump into the man walking in front of me, when I noticed him look left down a short hallway. At first he looked confused, but as I watched him do a double-take, smile and keep walking, I knew exactly what he was doing. The man in question was a colleague. The object of interest down the hall, his wife Sara.

Our company was founded by a young couple, and through the years, many more have followed in their footsteps. Partners, lovers, husbands and wives, each bringing new meaning to the expression "my work is my life."

Several years ago, we were graced with the presence of yet another young couple: Rob and Kasey Bromee. I knew them as one of us. We shared a few meetings here and there, but what I remember most were the reputations that preceded them. As individuals, they were well known around the office as incredibly smart, charismatic, helpful, and dedicated. As a unit they became known as pilars of hope, faith, and courage. Nearly a year and half after being diagnosed with Anaplastic Oligoatrocytoma, Rob Bromee passed away this weekend surrounded by the people he loved.

It was when I circled back to Sara's desk to share with her the secret moment I'd witnessed between her husband and her back, that I understood a simple truth: where we work, family means more than significant others. "Thanks so much for sharing," Sara said. "I really needed that today." I asked if she was OK, but I knew that she wasn't. None of us were. We'd lost one of our own. 

Sara and I hugged without saying too much. She went back to her work, and I shuffled off to my next meeting where I sat and thought about the things that really matter.

Those moments when we think no one is watching. The all-too-brief encounter with someone so special that they inadvertently change our lives forever. The people we love. The people that make us laugh. What else is there?

May the force be with you, Rob.

HOUSE UPDATE #3

The footers are in!

BAD BOY!

Hudson has two older brothers: Baloo and Nigel. Nigel is the sweet, fat one who's always looking for love. If somethings is yours, he'll sit on it and keep it warm for you. In particular if its something you need or are trying to read. He'll jump in your lap, bake biscuits on your belly, and literally wrap his arms around your neck to give you a hug and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. Baloo on the other hand is the one that's bad news bears. He jumps, scratches, nips at your heals, escapes from the house every chance he gets, takes huge bites of your freshly baked cake when you're not looking... the list goes on and on. While I was pregnant, I would have nightmares about Baloo jumping into the baby's crib at night. 

Oh, did I mention they're cats?

Turns out, I had absolutely nothing to worry about. While Nigel was relatively indifferent to Hudson, Baloo took it upon himself to be his guardian angel.

For a while I think Hudson thought the cat's name was actually "NOBALOO!" since that's what we yell at him 90% of the time. As he got older, he'd mimic us shaking a finger at Baloo telling him to stop whatever bad thing he was doing at the time—most often, laying all over Hudson's Thomas the Train tracks just as he was trying to squeeze his engines around the bend. Nowadays, they're peas in a pod, and we're the ones getting dirty looks for scolding either of them.

Most of the time, it's hard to remember why we love him so much, especially since he's always getting into trouble. It's not infrequent that Logan's complaining about the wretched smell of Baloo's poop (he has the totally-not-endearing habit of leaving his twosies uncovered in the litter box... like he's trying to show the world who's boss) or I'm yelling things like, "Why is he so bad!?!? Why don't we just let him run away!?"

The answer is simple: Because just like our human kid, we love him unconditionally.

And so, as he headed to the emergency vet a few mornings ago with a hugely swollen face, and we were told there's a possibility it's a tumor, all of the bad thoughts we'd ever had about Baloo flew from our minds and we buckled down to take care of our sick boy. After undergoing surgery, he came home with a drainage tube sticking out of his face and a cone around his neck (which, evidently, is not used to help deaf animals hear.) 

Tomorrow, our oldest son will go back to the vet to have the tube removed and to undergo some additional tests. Despite everything, I just want him to be OK, to come back home, and to tear up the place just like old times. 

Huddy's been extra careful with him since this whole thing started. Petting him gently on the head, saying "Baloo sick. I love you, Baloo." 

Well, I love you, too, Baloo. Just like the Wooz does. (Maybe more.)

THUMB(S) UP

While the bulk of my thoughts normally tend toward the mysterious (what am I going to be when I grow up?), the worrisome (how are we going to pay for this thing?), the frustrating (why do people suck?), and the things that are out of my control (why did Sacramento have to be west of LA?), this weekend was different. I traded in my everyday worries, for 48 hours of fun.

LIKE... that I know where we'll be
every first Saturday of the month.

LIKE... that Hudson is obsessed with "Backet-Ball"

but LOVE ...that he's smartening up quickly.

LIKE... that these two guys know how to celebrate a birthday in style.

LIKE... that these two guys don't care who's watching.

LIKE... that doggies are models of unconditional love.

LIKE... that Hudson is the Assistant GC.

LOVE... that I know where my breakfast comes from.