Let me tell you about a boy I know...

You may have been able to tell from my last few posts that my life has been a little busy and crazy the past week. I have been so stressed out that I'm sure I haven't been the most pleasant person to be around. But Doc, even though he's had his own stress to deal with too, has been so good to me in so many different ways that he's made it all bearable and easier to get through. I'm too tired to write coherent paragraphs so here, in semi-bullet form, are a few ways my wonderful husband has shown me he loves me. He...

...washed and dried multiple loads of laundry over the weekend.

...folded the clean laundry (his least favorite chore).

...drove to my parents' house when I ran out of time to pick up our house guest for the week.

...made me lunch and brought it upstairs to me while I got ready to attend a wedding shower.

...cooked dinner for me every night while I sat at the sewing machine or smocked or worked on diaper cakes.

...fixed the hot water in our shower.

...took both dogs out several times without me.

...sat through dvr'ed episodes of The Bachelorette with me so I could get caught up.

...unloaded the dishwasher.

...made the bed both Saturday and Sunday.

...washed the kids' sheets and remade the bunk beds when I mentioned that we might have company.

And then, as if he hadn't done enough already, today he...

...showed up at my office while I was working late with some of these:

...and some of these!

He knows how much colorful flowers make me happy and that I have another crazy week ahead of me. These flowers sitting on my desk are exactly what I need to make it all better. I have a feeling they'll make me smile every time I look at them.

So, question for you, dear readers: can I plant these when I finally bring them home? They're gerber daisies potted in a small planter. I've never tried to grow them before. Do they like sun? Shade? Heat? Or should I just keep them in a pot inside? Will they be dead in a couple of days?

Thanks for all you do for me, Doc.  It definitely does not go unnoticed. I love you tons. You're my favorite!

A Sad Goodbye

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to one of my best friends. We were just 23 days shy of working a complete five years together. I know a lot of people are friends with the people they work with, and I'm surely not the first person who has seen a coworker leave, but for some reason, I feel like this goodbye is extra hard. At least for me.

You see, Jovan and I didn't just work together, we sat next to each other - only separated by a small cube wall - every day of the work week. Five days a week, eight hours a day, 52 weeks a year. A lot of people put up walls as dividers or to block intruders out. But not us. Our wall was only there to help hold up our desks. Most of the time, the divider seemed not to even exist. We talked all day long through the wall. We passed reports and notes over it. We leaned on it during conversations or while watching YouTube videos. We shot rubber bands over it. We even used it as a volleyball net when we needed a work break.

Today, the desk on the other side of my cube wall is empty. My "work husband" is at home packing up his things, getting ready to move to the great state of Nebraska. It hasn't really set in that he's gone for good. Right now, it just feels like he's on vacation. It will probably feel that way next week too. But then I'm going to start having withdrawals.

I call him my "work husband" because that's a commonly used term around here. And in many ways, that's how our relationship was. I knew he always had my back and hopefully he knew I'd always have his. We were there for each other when we needed someone, whether it was a sticky work situation or advice on something. Sometimes our relationship was more of the brother-sister type.  We picked at each other constantly and could argue over anything. But we never held grudges. We could agree to disagree and move on. And occasionally our relationship was more of the mother-son variety, with me nagging him about not ironing his clothes or shaving his face or leaving folders out of their cabinets.  But all the time our relationship was that of very good friends. Always together. Partners in crime, as our bosses called us.  

I don't think I could work next to just anyone for as long as we worked together. Most people would probably start driving me crazy after a while. But Jovan and I are way too much alike. We have the same warped sense of humor. If we were in a meeting together, I always had to avoid making contact with him for fear of busting out laughing. After a while we got to where we could finish each other's sentences. We knew what the other was thinking before it even came out. We had nicknames for people whose names we really didn't know...things like Sir Coughs A Lot, Worst Day Ever, Potatoes, White Tiger, Laughs A Lot. Sometimes we were the only ones who understood the meanings behind them. We liked a lot of the same movie quotes, too. Some of our favorites were:

"And why is the floor all wet, Todd?" "I don't know, Margo!" "Big gulps, huh? Well, gotta go!" "Tina, you fat lard, come get some dinner. Eat the food!" "Whatever I feel like I wanna do. Gosh!" "I see you're drinking 1%. Is that cause you think you're fat? Cause you're not. You could be drinking whole if you wanted to."

Feel free to guess the movie if you'd like. Those are all pretty easy ones.

It was easy to like Jovan for other reasons too, not just because we were so much alike. He's a good, Christian man with great morals and values. He puts his family first in everything he does. I've never met someone as selfless as him. This move to Nebraska he's making is a great example of that, as he's leaving his mom here to move closer to his wife's family. He will do anything for anyone he cares about, whether he wants to or not.  He's a swell guy and I was lucky to get to work with him. 

After five years, it's safe to say we've been through a lot together. Some big things - I was there when his precious little girl was born and watched her grow from the pictures on his desk. He was the first at work to know I was engaged and was there to see me marry my husband. Some not so big things too - I was around when another man at work told him he had a nice body and I was there the day he ripped the seat of his pants. He covered everything in my cube with aluminum foil and then filled my cube with streamers and balloons while I was on my honeymoon. He sent me to the seventh floor on my first day of work (note: our office only has six floors) and had me foot a folder full of journal entries (note: journal entries always balance). I found his missing ID badge and convinced our bosses to call him down to Human Resources to scare him before giving it back to him.

Wednesday of this week we had our department going-away party for him. I made him a photo album of all the goofy pictures we've taken over the years. We also "retired" his safety vest. (He was on the safety committee here at work. He had to attend several meetings, learn how to use a fire extinguisher, pass out kleenex and hand sanitizer to our department during the swine flu outbreak, and if there was a fire drill, he had to wear his orange vest and make sure we were all accounted for out in the parking lot. Oh, yes, we made fun of our safety officer all the time.)  I really hope he takes his safety vest with him to his next job, or at least mentions being on the safety committee in an interview.

Last night our small group of six got together for The Last Supper. It started like a lot of our meals together, with me getting the first bite of his meal and him getting the second half of my sandwich. It ended, though, with a long hug goodbye and a tearful drive home. As sad as I am for myself, I am happy for him and this new adventure he's about to take. I know he'll find another job and make new coworker friends. A few years from now I'm sure I'll be a distant memory to him, but I still hope our paths will cross again at some point. Saying goodbye to people is the hard part of growing up.

So I'm just going to leave it with a "see you later, Jovan" instead of "goodbye." I'll miss you tons and hope to see you again soon!

Exhausted

This week has been one of the busiest weeks of my life. The next two weeks will probably give this week some stiff competition, though. I better brace myself. In addition to working 8+ hours everyday this week, I have...

...planned a going-away party for my "work husband."

...baked cupcakes, made puppy-chow and fruit dip for said party.

...ordered pictures and arranged them in photo album.

...sewn table runners.

...sliced my finger open with very sharp scissors.

...had dinner with a childhood friend to celebrate her pregnancy.

...driven two hours to my Aunt's house to deliver the headboard bench.

...fought back tears too many times to count.

...failed at holding back the tears once.

...gone to battle with my face that has reverted back to its 15-year-old self.

...watered my new zinnias diligently.

...ordered a bridesmaid dress for an upcoming wedding.

...shopped online for supplies for new projects.

...had a friend graciously cook me dinner on the worst day ever.

...brainstormed ideas for showers/parties I'm hosting.

I have NOT...

...finished the smocking I started on our beach trip.

...purchased a gift for the wedding shower I'll be attending this weekend.

...finished the rest of the table runners.

...watched a lick of TV.

...read any of the three books on my nightstand.

...returned the new swimsuit that doesn't fit.

...made a dentist appointment.

...uploaded or blogged cute 4th of July pictures.

...folded the clean laundry.

...seen my husband nearly enough.

I really hope your week has been less stressful than mine.

BIG Scare: Hindsight

OR "What's Funny Now But Wasn't At The Time"

1 - Doc's butt has been hurting for days. We have decided this can only be from the hour and half he spent riding on Anna's bike looking for Minnie. Anna is nine and rides a small pink, white, and green bike. Doc is 36 and has a big bottom and even bigger legs. While Minnie was lost, it did not even phase me that he was on her bike. Of course he should be on her bike. But now, four days later while he's still walking funny, I wish I could go back and get a picture of him, headlamp and all, perched on top of Anna's little bike.

2 - When Anna and I pulled back into the garage after scouring the neighborhood in my car, Wyatt ran out wearing an inside out pair of way-too-big socks with his flip-flops. I know they were too big because the grey heel was up around his ankle. Anna took one look at him and said, "why are you wearing socks with flip-flops?"  I remember her saying that because that's what made me look down and see them for myself. His answer was that he didn't want to get anything on his feet. At the end of the night, as Doc and I were getting ready to go to bed, I asked him if he noticed Wyatt's socks. "Yeah," he replied. "He asked me for a pair of socks so I just threw him a pair of mine and ran back out the door. I have no idea why he wanted them." "Oh, I do," I told him. "Why?" he asked. "Because of the frogs." And then we laughed.

Here's the thing - we have realized lately that Wyatt is terrified of frogs. Now, I know everyone has their own little irrational fears, but for some reason this fear is completely hilarious to me. Maybe it's because I played with them all the time as a little girl and thought they were so cool. Maybe it's because my five-year-old nephew, being the boy that he is, goes on hunts in the backyard specifically to find frogs. I don't know what it is - I just think it's funny that our ten-year-old boy is completely scared of them. And so, during our panic-stricken, two and a half hour hunt for Minnie, he took the time out to run inside and put on a pair of his dad's socks with his flip-flops so that "nothing could get on his feet."

When we finally found Minnie and were walking back to our back garage, Wyatt was standing in the garage pointing to the driveway and warning us about the frog sitting there. "Oh, I'll get rid of it," I said as I gently nudged it to move with my flip-flopped foot. That's when he lost it and ran inside.

3 - "Breed: Black Wiener Dog" ....still makes me laugh every time I see the flyer on the kitchen counter.

BIG Scare

It's 10:15 on a Friday night and I'm sitting on my bed, feeling like I just barely survived the longest 3 hours of my life. It all started after dinner. We all (Doc, me, both kids, Minnie) went outside to our back alley to draw with sidewalk chalk and kill some time before dark.  Wyatt was busy working on a drawing of "Wyattville," I was watching Anna draw a picture of a cat, and Doc was swinging his golf clubs. Minnie was doing what she does best: just laying there.

Doc put down his golf clubs, grabbed my glass and headed inside to refill our sangritas. He wasn't gone long, just three or four minutes maybe. He came back, handed me my glass, and casually asked, "Where's Minnie?"

"Huh?" I looked over to where she had been laying in the grass. "I don't know. She was just right there. She couldn't have gone far."

As if on cue, everyone put down their chalk/glass/whatever they were holding and looked around for our dog. She has gotten much better in her old age about not running after random people or pets as they stroll by (or maybe she's just gotten lazier) so we've been giving her a little more freedom by not keeping her on a leash when we're all outside playing. So, this wasn't the first time she'd wandered off. If you've ever seen Minnie you know that not only does she have really short legs, but she's also a bit of a waddler, so we knew she couldn't have gotten far.

We looked in all her usual places. Nothing.

We called her name inside the house just in case she snuck in behind someone. Nothing.

We looked through our side yard in the off chance that our gate had been opened and she got locked back there. Nothing.

Doc and I decided we should split up. Anna and I headed in one direction and he and Wyatt went the other. We circled our block in no time at all, but still, there was no sign of Minnie.

We split up again and expanded our search to the neighboring blocks. We checked out the parking lot of the apartments nearby. We walked to any spot we've ever taken her to for a potty break. Still nothing.

Doc gave a new set of directions. "You and Anna get in your car. Wyatt and I will get on the bikes and look around here."

So off we went in the car. Now I know my dog and know she couldn't have gotten very far, but why hadn't we found her yet? As Anna and I were driving, I let my sometimes-too-imaginative mind take over. I remembered that I had caught Minnie eating a piece of a rotten peach outside. I didn't think she had swallowed any of it before I took it away. And I also remembered that while I drew with sidewalk chalk, she stuck her nose into my fruity cocktail drink. Could those things have made her sick?

I started getting nervous. Was I looking for my very sick - or worse - dog?

Anna and I drove all over the neighborhood with no luck. When we made it back to the house we searched everywhere inside again, just in case. By this time, it was getting really dark. The boys made it back on their bikes and grabbed the head lamps. I had a flashlight and we split up again, this time leaving Anna back at the house. Where could she possibly be??

Realizing how dark and late it was getting, I finally called my parents. We needed help. As soon as the phone started ringing, I finally lost it. The tears wouldn't stop coming and it was getting really hard to breathe.

"We lost Minnie," was all I could get out to my mom.

"We'll be right there."

My parents were on their way. They always make everything better. They would definitely find my sweet Minnie.

Doc caught up with me on the corner of our block. He had sent Wyatt back to the house with Anna. The two of us, equipped with our flashlights, walked back through the alley to our house, stopping to look under and behind every bush, tree, and rock on the way.

Finally, as we were almost to our garage door, my genius husband said, "Hey, didn't [Neighbor 2 Doors Down] have his garage open earlier?"

"I don't know. I don't remember seeing it open, but I guess it could've been."

We walked up to the garage door and listened. Nothing. I knocked on the door.

"Minnie?"

"Miiiiinnnniiiieeee!"

Nothing.

"Do you think we should ask them to look in there, just to make sure?" I asked Doc.

"Sure. I'll go around to the front and knock."

So we quickly started walking around the block to the front of their house. Even though I was feeling a renewed sense of hope, I still stopped and looked behind every shrub on the way. I fell behind Doc a few feet.

I could see our neighbor open the door, but before I made it to their porch, Doc was already heading inside and closing the door behind him. I took off running back around the block to their garage.

My tears started again as I ran. What if she wasn't there? Then what? I was losing my breath.

And then, as I rounded the corner just in time to see their garage door opening and the motion detector light pop on, out stepped Doc with a wiggling ball of black fur in his arms.

Minnie!!!

I took off in a dead sprint.  As I got close I could hear [Neighbor 2 Doors Down] saying something to me, but all I could focus on was getting my sweet girl in my arms!

I can't even tell you how happy I was. I was sweating and crying and kissing my baby girl and trying not to make too much of a fool out of myself in front of my neighbors. What a happy ending!

As soon as we walked in our house Doc asked if we should call my parents back.

"Oh crap. They're probably already almost here."

Sure enough, as soon as Minnie and I made it out onto the front porch, they pulled up. My dad tried to give me a hard time about it but truthfully, I think we were all just relieved Minnie was safe and sound and back where she belongs.

And then, as if the ending of the night couldn't have gotten much better, I saw this:

Wyatt had come inside and made flyers for us to post around the neighborhood. The picture is from my Christmas card a few years back, and I didn't even realize it was still on the computer that we let the kids use. And I definitely didn't know that he knew about to paste it into a document. In case the picture above is too small for you to read, the small print below "REWARD!!!" says:

Name: Mini Breed: Black Wiener Dog Address: --------------------- (smudged out by me)

How sweet is that??? Wyatt acts like he's not too fond of Minnie most days, but he still spent all evening running all over the neighborhood looking for her and then created this flyer so we could get the word out. That's when I melted.

I still have not figured out why Minnie never once barked, growled, or whimpered while she was trapped in our neighbor's garage. Even when she could hear us knocking on the door and calling her name, she never made a sound. And yet, two seconds after my parents arrive, she's back to normal barking her head off and begging for some food. Weird, huh?

I have to say, I'm really glad this night is over. I'm exhausted! Minnie is back in her bed sleeping soundly. The kids are tucked into their bunk beds. Doc is starting to snore right beside me. I think I'll be able to rest easy tonight knowing everyone in my family is exactly where they're supposed to be.