Alex, I'll take Potpourri for $400, please

Part one:

Blog topics have been running through my head for weeks, no, months. At first, I was protesting blog month by NOT posting. I read all my regular blogs (and loved that they had the commitment to post every. single. day.), but I knew I couldn’t compete with the daily postings, so I didn’t even try. Then the holidays and multiple family get togethers, work commitments, blah, blah, blah.

I’d craft witty blog entries in my head while driving home from work, grocery shopping, getting a hair cut, and Christmas shopping. Trust me, those entries were good – award winning even.

Like the one about Ethan telling Elmo to “bite me.”

Or how he wouldn’t open his gifts on Christmas morning until I opened the gift he made for me in school.

Or how for the first time EVER, I got along with the in-laws. (And scored decent Christmas presents – gone are the days of used toothbrushes and candles without wicks. Seriously.)

Fun times.

But this week? Man, it’s only Tuesday and I can’t wait for this week to end. I’m on a plane now and close to tears.

(OK, actually when this posts, I’ll be in Dallas, alone, in my hotel – for work. Please, dear God, do not let my client want to meet for drinks or Dairy Queen ice cream or a briefing meeting or any other nonsense. I just want to check into the hotel and crawl into bed. Hell, my meetings tomorrow start at 7 a.m.)

On Sunday, I learned that my cousin’s three week old baby died – of mysterious causes which are being investigated. An autopsy was performed today, and the little baby girl will be buried on Thursday. I want to be there for my family, but I fear I couldn’t handle the funeral of a tiny, innocent baby. Especially with the cloud of suspicion hanging over the baby daddy. It’s sad to pray for there to have been an undiagnosed birth defect (quite possible consider the parents were using drugs before, during, and immediately following conception). However, given the circumstances, I fear the worst, and that makes me really sad.

Today, my mom had her left knee replaced. She had the right one done last summer, and the recovery is brutal. She was particularly close to the baby's family and had the pleasure of “meeting” the baby two week ago. It’s tearing her up that she can’t be there for her family, but she’ll be in the hospital all week then rehab several times a week for months.

Then, I learned that my dad broke his ankle – a clean break effectively separating his foot from his leg. Since his second stroke a few years ago, he’s had difficulty maintaining his blood pressure when he stands, causing him to black out and pass out. That’s what happened last night. He’ll need surgery to pin his bones into place while it heals. Of course, he discharged himself from the hospital and rejected any pain meds until he drove home to take care of his dogs (since my mom’s in the hospital and there’s no one around to take care of them – they live in the boonies). He’s on his way back to the hospital now, where he’ll be admitted and a decision about surgery will be made tomorrow.

My sister, who lives in the city where my parents will both be in hospitals this week, is “too busy” to help. Julie is a selfish, immature, self-centered bitch. To find out why I feel so strongly about Julie, tune in later...