Randomonium

I should be embarrassed.  But I'm not.  Actually, I never get embarrassed.  Ever.  Here are some things you might be embarrassed about if you were me. 

• My dusty blog.  What's a blog?  Meh.
• Seriously, I don't even recognize Blogger right now.
• The Hello Kitty stickers my babes cluttered my car windows with.
• How messy that car is right now.  
• The fact that the barista taking my order at DD finished my sentence for me.
• That new Ke$ha song...I like it way more that any 29 year old mother of two should.
• You're not a real Hill girl unless you've managed to fall down a flight of stairs (without injury), and Buggy makes me proud. 
• All the cool kids have iPhones.  I use their autocorrect fails in everyday life.  "Read donkey lists" for example.
• Mean Girls... It needs it's own board on Pinterest.
• Pinterest.
• I know what "No shame, good integrity" means.  I'm pretty sure T. Thorpe does, too.
• Sometimes.... #Ijustwantothashtageverything.  Sometimes I resist that urge.
• I still use a thesaurus when composing papers.
• Annnd I've been writing 1-2 papers a week for the last...17ish months.
• I'm 99.999% sure I have ADD.  If I get into grad school I'll get tested.  If I fail that test, I will be scraping by in a heavily caffeinated state.
• My GPA is still top notch, so I know caffeine works wondrously.
• The fact that I typed wondrously, and didn't delete it.

Hey! It's okay!

I should be doing homework right now.  Obviously.

15 November 2008

Sophie was 10 days old.

It was probably 9:30 pm. I fed her, burped her, and put her in her crib.
Then I went and took a shower.

Twenty minutes later, Ben was holding her. She was screaming and unable to catch her breath. Something was wrong. My mom was visiting and told me that she had spit up, and was having problems breathing. It was her idea to call 911.

The operator that I spoke to was concerned and sent an ambulance. What took them maybe five minutes to get to us, felt like forever. The paramedics examined her.  She was wheezing so they wanted to take her to the hospital to make sure she was okay. I went with them. Adrenaline kicked in. Game face.

For maybe two hours I was totally calm and collected.  I answered all of the social worker's questions with ease.  I kept it together while the ditsy radiology tech tried to take x-rays.  I didn't flinch while I pinned her down so that the respiratory specialist could stick tubes down her nose.

I was just happy that she was okay.  Everything came back good.  I was relieved.

Then Ben walked in the room.  All of a sudden this huge rush of real relief came over me.   As soon as I saw him tears had rushed down my face.  I felt stupid for crying, after knowing everything was fine.  He hugged me anyway.  I felt normal again.



So here I am...almost 3 years after everything changed.  I can list dozens of blog-worthy reasons why I'm so okay now, why my new normal is good, how effing kick-A I am.

Then the last two weeks happen (or maybe it's just been a crazy month or two).  Things get a little heavy.  But I'm okay.  I've totally got this. 

But there's still this small part of me that knows if Ben walked through the door, I'd burst into tears.  That game face I haven't realized I'm wearing could come off for a minute.  He'd look so calm.  I'd for sure feel stupid for crying.  He'd hug me anyway, and I might feel normal again.


For now, this will have to do.

8 Years Ago

"Send me letters from above.

Send me strength, send me love, such a sweet love.

Sing me songs that echo in my head and in my heart,

that's where you are."

Vertical Horizon 

Sometimes

Ya know...

I still look at photos and love the way his cute ears stuck out when he smiled.

I still laugh at how silly we could be.

When I paint my toes, I still think of those perfect feet with the Teva tan lines.

I still get teary when I think of little things he did to take care of me.
And I just have to throw a "Thank you!!" out into the universe.


I'm grateful that I can still remember subtle things, and I'm grateful someone loved (loves) me that way.

So, March happened...

March was busy!

I took the girls on a three week trip with me.--Not the most well thought out plan ever. Traveling with kids is my absolute least favorite thing to do. Just ask T. Thorpe! But overall, it was good!

I got spotlighted on Mommy Models Blog! I felt so honored! It's such a cute blog, and I love what they do. I was pretty nervous at first, but Emily put me right at ease. Love her.

Oh, I got in my first car accident! I totally got rear-ended...at a stop light...on Main St...in Springville. And I actually felt bad for the frazzled mom that hit me (in her white minivan, of course).

I reluctantly went to that widow/widower conference again. Surprisingly, I was glad I did. It was a lot funner this year. The two year mark really is a good place to be. :)

Oh, and despite the craziness, I got a 99.4 in my Health Care Management class. Yay for that! My GPA looks more like this now...

And I graduate on Ben's birthday, 2013.
Maybe I'll pretend I have a blog again then.

Maybe.

:)

I'm just so retweetable!!

I'm not a big tweeter. People will follow me, and then drop me days later from boredom. No biggie. Tweeting for followers would be exhausting. And I'm not much of a people pleaser.

So...last night I was catching up on DVR'ed Dr. Oz episodes.
I was so excited for today's show with Dr. Mercola. He's so legit, and his advice has really helped me. He's one of my favorite people to follow. I just had to tweet him.

So here it is...
My .0015 minutes of fame :)

So nice of him. :)

:)

Ben used to sing it to me when we were engaged. It was hard to tell if he was joking or not. His singing voice was as bad as mine, and I always thought the song was painfully cheesy.

But he was serious. And adorable.



Like an answer to a prayer, now I get to hear it right when I need it. I hear that tone-deaf voice in my head, too. And I can't help but smile.

I love Ben.
:)

Win

Pharmacist: "What was the weight?"
Ginny: "15 minutes."
Pharmacists: "Haha! I meant the weight of the child. Haha..."
Ginny: "Oh! 40 pounds! Ha..."


He called me, "Miss Hill." :)

What's my deal?

I hate crying. I hate puffy eyes and stuffy noses. And when there's real grief, I hate that no cry ever makes me feel better.

I do love to be busy. School has been perfect for me.
I adore people who make me laugh. Like these two little amazing people who think so highly of me.
I love not thinking too far ahead. I avoid thinking of my girls' future at all costs.


But when someone asks me questions, with genuine concern, and really wants to know the answers, I lose composure.


Q. How am I with missing Ben?
A. One hot mess who forgot to wear waterproof mascara.

Q. What is my biggest regret?
A. Being such an idealist. Life isn't meant to be perfect. I am not expected to be perfect.

Q. What is my biggest worry?
A. (After clearing the snot and waterworks...) I try to stay in the present moment. I can't control the future. My biggest worry is not for me.

Ginny Moments

Have you ever tried to blame your blondish hair on a legit personality quirk?

Have you ever smeared turmeric all over your face and then posted photos to your blog, just to later find out how much people Google "turmeric facials"??

Have you ever had a BFF just not get your kind of humor??


Have you ever questioned why your favorite Masshole keeps calling you a "Utahhhd" when it's clearly, UtaRd??



Have you ever been accused of being a little too much like a certain drag queen??


Have you ever thought you were in the wrong month? Like got MLK day mixed up with President's day? And then didn't send your kid to school for a few extra days?



Oh, you haven't??
Good. Neither have I.

This will never get old.

Thanks, Lesley!!

:)

Better-er

So, I was driving around doing mundane errands by myself...deep in thought (my usual MO), when I realized that I really am getting better...in legit, measurable ways.

And I so love it.

I'm laughing more like I used to.---More often, and at appropriate times. ;)

I donated my I-haven't-eaten-in-5 1/2-months jeans. That emaciated look wasn't good on me, and I don't anticipate it making a comeback.

I changed my play list! The original was getting bastardized with non-Ben-approved songs. (Like he would listen to Jessie J!) Those melancholy songs don't resemble me anymore! Yay!

At my 10 year high school reunion a lot of people didn't know about my widow status, and I didn't feel the need to tell them.

I don't feel the need to tell anyone, really. It's a life altering event, but it's not who I am.

And if it does come up in conversation, I will do my best to make the other person feel comfortable. No need for awkward moments.

I'm still soo glad I didn't brand my blog! (sadlittleblondewidow dot blogspot dot com... Hah!!)

I've considered leaving the widow forum I joined two years ago. I've never been a big contributor anyway. And that conference was mostly a drag. Introductions felt like prison. Instead of the, "Whatcha in for?" it was a somber, "So what happened? How long has it been?" Yikes.

I'm breathing easier. Literally.


There was a part of me that thought that letting go of some of the pain would be bittersweet. Necessary, but still kind of awful. Everyone told me, "Time heals" (blah, blah, blah, blah). But I was so afraid that would prove to mean that time would rob me of my love for him. Time would take away the sound of his voice or the way his hands felt when they held mine. Because it can't hurt if you forget it was there.

Instead it's more of a gift. I've sat with this grief, and acknowledged it in every way I know how. The weight of it can start to shift now. It will always be a part of me, but it doesn't need to be the biggest part. It shouldn't be. Allowing myself to be defined and kept back isn't good for anyone. Things that break are meant to either be thrown away or fixed.

I'm in the "To Be Fixed" pile.

I was made to be happy. There will be far more happy moments than sad.


I love Ben.
:)

No.

Does this look like "random pictures of people at walmart"??

.....

I know! Right?

People, Google something more worthwhile.
Walmart lowers your IQ 10 points.