Welcome to Hotel Gallagher

i bought the scariest, most horrid and offensive halloween decoration today:

 

<img src="http://usera.ImageCave.com/jilly1217/oct4%20003.jpg">

 

here's the best part of the story:  our puppy, Ginger, never EVER growls and hardly ever barks.  ginger had hear ears down and was growling and barking at palin today

 

 

 

 

jakey was getting a tux fitted - he's in a wedding in a few weeks.  anyways, the guy who was doing the measuring put his arms out by his sides, trying to get jakey to do the same thing so he could measure jake's armspan.

 

jake put his own arms straight out, and then leaned in and hugged the guy.

i was a field trip driver for jake's class today and had 3 kids in the car.  on the way home we were discussing music and the little 5-year old girl in the back said "i know a song!  my mommy doesn't like me to sing it.  it's called Big Butts"  and she launched into "i like big butts and i can't deny, you other brothers can't deny".

 

there was a teacher in the car with me who had the wherewithal to say "if your mom doesn't like you singing that then maybe you shouldn't sing it".  good thing - i almost drove off the road i was laughing so hard.

"chocolate milk is kids' coffee"

so we are sitting at the storm game last nite (they kicked ass, btw!) and i check my phone and see that our sitter called me.  annie is pretty non-flappable and i don't think she's ever called me while we were out, so i grabbed the phone and called her back.  turns out that my precious little duncan had locked himself in the bathroom and she could not get him out! 

 

our main floor b-room has a slide bolt, which when working properly slides into the locked position and then the slide rotates down and locks into position.  it worked properly.  so duncan was able to play with the lock enough to engage it but his little 3-year old mind could not disengage said lock.  and of course the windows were locked so there was no outside acces. 

 

bill saved the day - he left the game near the end of the first quarter, went home, took the door off the hinges, and was back by the middle of the 2nd quarter.  yay bill! 

 

and yes, before he left the house he ripped the lock off the bathroom door. 

conversation with billy first thing this morning:

 

me: i had a dream last night that you wanted to divorce me

bill:  aww

me:  i also had a dream that we moved to redmond

bill:  AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!

i never got to meet emma, but this tiny little creature has touched my life in so many ways.  many people have been writing about her and i know i'm not as prolific as some, but if you read my blog you know that what i lack in writing skills i make up for in my intent. 

 

emma is emma joan kowalcyk, a tiny preemie born to my friends matt and ellen, and one half of a set of beautiful identical twin girls.  the short story is that emma passed away on sunday, april 6 after a long battle with just about everything that could be thrown at a newborn.  matty's blog is http://offramp.exit83.com/blogs/mattk/default.aspx and gives the whole story.

 

so the story has been told, friends and family have commented and blogged.  why am i too feeling the need to write?  that's a question i've asked myself many times but don't have a good answer.  nor do i have a good answer to why i was following along with matt's blog entries (and twitter updates) like it was my own child whose life was being discussed.  maybe that's why i'm writing now - to figure out why i'm writing.  conundrum?  yes.  cathartic?  i hope so.

 

for a few weeks my life became about 'the story of emma'.  i checked the blog and twitter feeds obsessively, and my mood was often determined by how emma was doing.  when matt blogged that the docs told them to come say good-bye, that she'd developed an infection that was only giving her a few more hours to live, i was heartbroken.  when matt didn't blog for a few hours, i was anxious.  when i found out she was still holding on, i was cautiously elated.  and when i found out she was still holding on days, and then weeks later, i was overjoyed.  this little girl who was born 1 lb. 10 oz had kicked the ass of a killer infection!  her fight changed me, changed how i thought.  helped put everything in my life into perspective.  showed me what it meant to be strong.  and not just every-day strong, but she showed me that a small child can have the strength of a million evander holyfields. 

 

i spent the next few weeks checking the blog and twitter feeds about 100 times a day.  knowing her condition wasn't something i just wanted, there was a sense of urgency.  she was fast becoming my hero and when your hero is sick, well, that's just what you do.  but matt and ellen were also becoming my heroes - giving non-stop love and devotion and hope and energy and time and caring and more to this little girl, and all the while still taking the time to share their thoughts, feelings and news with everyone on a regular basis.  AND still taking the time to be a great parent to ella, emma's sister.  AND still taking some time for themselves, and still having senses of humor.  no wonder emma was so strong.  with those parents how could she be anything but? 

 

in the end, the infection won out.  i received this news immediately following a dinner out with bill.  it wasn't a surprise - emma was gravely ill that morning and in septic shock by the afternoon.  but when i checked the blog and read matt's line that said 'good-bye emma' i had to leave the restaurant immediately.  i felt lost, and just overcome with sadness.  sadness for matt & ellen.  sadness for the giant reality of what this little girl really was fighting.  and sadness that the world would not get to know emma.  that was to be our loss.

 

so i miss emma.  i miss the hope she gave, the stories of her recovery, the elation people were experiencing with every drop of good news regarding her condition.  i think the best way to honor her is to try and fight like she did, to try and live life like she did, to try and give off as much love as she did.  emma, we will all miss you but we are all better people for having known you, even if that was just through the words of your parents.  rest well on that yellow submarine, sweet one.