We are alive, I swear!!

I know that most of you probably aren't THAT worried, but I just wanted to acknowledge that we are in fact alive over here and that I know I've been a bad blogger. The end.

Just kidding. ;) One of my bestest friends from high school, Andrea, arrived on Wednesday with her husband and son for their first visit to Hawaii. And as you can imagine, things have been busy around here, as we drag three toddlers all over the island in an attempt to cover as much ground as possible in a short amount of time. Good thing we are fairly young and have the energy to accomplish such a feat. :)

It's been the normal Palm Family Tour . . . beach cabins, beach lounging, Dole Plantation, shave ice and pineapple ice cream, coconut shrimp, and hundreds of miles logged on the good 'ol tour bus (a/k/a the minivan). We still have another week to go, so if I continue to be a blog slacker, please forgive me. But I can already assure you, the pics will be worth the wait.

Taking Inventory

As of late, Brian and I have begun to experience a new, and perhaps profound, sense of freedom . . . the kind of freedom that we have not even come close to feeling in say (how old is Charley now?), four and a half years . . . a freedom that was even more severely limited starting almost three years ago (that's how old Zander is, right?).

Over the course of the last few months, I've noticed myself being able to go to public functions of various types WITH the kids and actually able to still ENJOY myself for more than twenty minutes (generally the max amount of time between major catastrophes). This has allowed us to come to the realization that we are in a window, a very precious window from what I hear, one where the kids are somewhat self-sufficient AND they still like you and want to hang out with you. So here we are, Charley is four and a half, Zander is just shy of three, and I thought I would take inventory of all the reasons why I am loving where we are at:

1. no more diapers (this is a big one for me)
2. which also means no more diaper bag (I get to carry a PURSE . . . can you imagine???)
3. no more sippy cups
4. no more strollers
5. everyone sleeps through the night (hallelujah!!!)
6. no more bulky baby gadgets
7. everyone eats normal regular food with regular utensils
8. early kid bedtime
9. we can go to a movie theatre (even if it is only for cartoons)
10. the kids prefer playing with other kids at events rather than hanging on my legs whining
11. no worrying about naps
12. ability to verbally communicate
13. both kids will be in preschool starting in two weeks (which means 6 hours a week BY MYSELF)
14. their imaginations
15. constant humorous comments
16. everything is still new and exciting to them . . . even the small things
17. Santa and the Easter Bunny are highly appreciated
18. we still get lots of hugs and kisses
19. they are best buddies, despite the squabbles
20. they can finally help pick up dog poop

Of course with all the pros, comes the cons . . . .

1. full price plane tickets for everyone
2. the emotionally fragile state of this age bracket (i.e. whining, tantrums, crying, etc.)
3. inability to follow my instructions after only one request
4. not having mastered butt wiping (the kids that is)
5. pull-ups at night (yuk)
6. sibling rivalry
7. begging for "treats" at every check-out stand
8. the bribery required to get them to sit in a shopping car for any length of time
9. constant "negotiating" over simple tasks
10. the overuse of the word "why"

So here we are, a few years into this journey, finally able to take a step back and say we made it to the other side. I remember when I announced that I was pregnant with Zander, when Charley was barely a year old, and many people told us that those first few years were going to be pretty hard with babies only 20 months apart. As yes, they were right, they were hard, harder than I imagined . . . but now that those years have passed, I wouldn't trade them for the world.

And after taking inventory, I've definitely decided that I have a couple keepers.

Summer Fun

Despite being in the midst of a visitor lull, and not having any school obligations at the moment, we still seem to manage to fill almost every minute of every day with something . . . and I'd like to think we fill it mostly with fun.

But first we'll start with the minor traumas of late. It begins with a moth. The largest moth I've ever seen in my life. This thing magically appeared in my house one day, and I honestly thought for a few minutes that it was a bat. It wasn't until it stopped flapping around and paused to take a rest that I saw it wasn't a bat . . . and thank goodness, because I hate bats. Charley and I made several attempts to capture this thing and release it back into the wild, but it was a tricky fella. So we left it for Brian to tackle when he got home. I swear to you, it had an 8" wing span. Scary.

The next bit of trauma isn't actually trauma NOW, but my mom swears that down the road, the kids will be thoroughly traumatized by this . . . my recruitment of them as dog poop picker-uppers, at two and four years old. For now they think it's fun . . . but I'm sure they will be able to look back and pin-point this as the turning point in their lives.

From there the fun part kicks in. It started with the 4th of July, which we spent on Ford Island, overlooking Pearl Harbor. Brian had to work, but thankfully we got to share the holiday with lots of good friends, eating yummy food, playing with sparklers, and watching fireworks. Here is a picture of everyone hanging out at our spot, right at the tale-end of the USS Missouri.

And the Coastie kiddos . . .

It was my kids first time seeing a major fireworks show, and I think they enjoyed it . . . well, at least Charley did. Zander pulled one of his infamous pass-outs by falling asleep sitting upright in a chair, with his faced pressed against the back. Everyone was fairly entertained. And of course, he fell asleep five minutes before the show started. Oh well, there is always next year.

A couple days later we hit the water slides, and Zander finally started going down by himself. Ahhhhh, I slowly see the apron strings falling one by one . . .

We also hit up the library last week for a little story time. In the past we weren't too successful with this because Zander just wanted to run around, but he's finally old enough to sit still and appreciate a good story or two.

Next we have the Wienermobile. I mean, what's a fun week without the Wienermobile? My friend, Andre, had to sort of talk me into this one . . . but once I got there, it was way more fun than expected. They were passing out postcards, stickers, and hot dogs, and they even allowed us to check out the inside. How cool is that?

And last, but certainly not least, was our last major hoorah for our friend Marian, who is moving to D.C. at the end of the month. Much to her surprise, we kidnapped her yesterday morning, took her to a fabulous Sunday brunch at the Cheesecake Factory, followed by several hours sipping Mai Thais and lounging by the pool, and concluding with an amazing dinner at a rotating restaurant overlooking Waikiki (called "The Top of Waikiki"). We wrapped up the evening by walking along the shoreline of the beach, reminiscing and people watching. It was quite a fun day.

I've definitely had an amazing summer so far, and with lots of fun stuff coming up (oh, you know I'm talking to you, Andrea!!), I have a feeling the rest of the summer won't disappoint.

How has the summer been treating you?

Food for thought . . . .

I received an email with this paragraph in it today, and I think this is one of the best quotes I've ever heard . . .

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this happen?" (regarding Hurricane Katrina).. Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said, "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.. And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"

Charley-isms

In the movie theatre bathrooms . . .

Danielle: "Okay Charley, hop off, it's my turn."

Charley: (swatting my hand away) "Mom, why do you always pinch my buns?"

Danielle: "Because I love your buns, they are so cute, I can't help it."

Charley: "I love YOUR cute buns."

Danielle: "Well, your buns are a lot cuter than my buns."

Charley: "Yeah . . . your buns are pretty squishy."

(loud laughing breaks out from the stall next door . . . . . )

***********************************************************************************

Charley: "Okay Zander, guess what I'm thinking . . . it starts with an 'F' . . . . ffffffffffff."

Zander: "I don't know."

Charley: (getting louder) "Just GUESS Zander . . . fffffffffffff."

Zander: "Frog?"

Charley: (getting even louder) "Noooo Zander, fffffffffffffff!!!!!!!"

Zander: "I don't know."

Charley: (yelling) "ZANDER!!!!!!!!! JUST GUESS!!!!!!!!"

Danielle: "Charley, that's enough yelling, he doesn't know what you are trying to say."

Charley: (whining) "But Mommmmmm, I want him to guess what I'm thinking but I don't want to tell him what it is!!!!"

Brian: (mumbling under his breath) "Typical broad."

Scared

This week I was scared more than I ever have been before in my entire life.

This week I thought there was a chance that I might lose one of the most important people in my life, my best friend, my rock, my angel . . . my Mom.

I talk to my Mom almost every day, sometimes several times a day, and on a slow week every other day. Sometimes we talk for hours, sometimes we only talk for a minute. We try our best to make these thousands of miles between us seem a little less, as hard as that is.

On Monday, I called home and talked to my step-dad for awhile because it was his birthday, and then he passed the phone to my Mom and we did our usual catch-up since the previous phone call (which was probably the day before). She and dad were just enjoying a yummy cheesecake that she made for his birthday, and she told me about the radios that she bought him as a gift. Needless to say, all was well in Montana.

On Tuesday, I had no specific plans to call my Mom, but during the early afternoon I decided to try a new recipe and needed to call Mom for specific cooking advice. For the first few minutes,
all seemed well. I asked her what she was doing, she said she was taking five, I proceeded to ask her about the recipe, she answered my question, and then I half-heartedly mentioned that I was happy that I finally got to take a normal shower after two weeks of stitches in my hand. She didn't know why I had stitches. I reminded her of my surgery two weeks ago (which we've talked about in some capacity or another every day since). She's drawing a blank. I reminded her that it was for the cyst on my wrist that she saw last month when she was here. She's still drawing a blank. I asked her if she remembered being here last month. She didn't. Up until this point, I thought maybe she was just having a blonde/old lady moment . . . but when she couldn't remember her trip and she promised me she wasn't pulling my leg, I knew something was really wrong.

I then asked her where dad was. She couldn't remember. How long had he been gone? She couldn't remember. Are you there alone? Yes. Mom, I need to call someone. No Danielle, please don't. Yes Mom, I will call you right back. My parents don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call dad. I then tried to call my brother, Kurt, but his phone went right to voicemail. I then decided to call my Mom's sister, Barb, at work and told the man on the other end of the line that it was an emergency. When Barb got on the phone, I told her that something was really wrong with Mom because her memory was gone. She said she'd head right over and probably would be taking Mom to the ER in case it was a stroke. Uh oh, there was that word. I asked for her cell phone number, but she doesn't have one either. Uggggghhhhh!

We hang up and I call Mom back with the plan of keeping her on the phone until Barb arrives, thinking it would be about 20 minutes or so. Although she knew who I was, she was still very confused and could not even remember that the day before was dad's birthday and that she had baked him a cake. She thought I was nuts for even suggesting the cake until she saw the cheesecake pan sitting in the sink. She couldn't remember my visit to Montana this past winter, and she couldn't remember visiting Hawaii with dad the previous winter. She didn't know who the President of the U.S. was, and she didn't know the date or the day of the week. She had no numbness, tingling, pain, headache, or unexplained scratches or bruises. She had not fallen recently and she was feeling no discomfort. She just couldn't remember.

Ironically, ten minutes into our conversation, my brother happened to stop by to pick something up. I insisted that she give him the phone, and she tried arguing with me about it, but I got a little snippy with her and demanded that she give him the phone. Thankfully, she relented. I quickly explained to my brother what was going on and to wait there with Mom until Barb showed up to take her to the hospital. I was so relieved that someone was actually there with her for the moment, especially since I couldn't be.

I waited about 15 minutes before calling the house back to see if Barb had arrived, but there was no answer. I tried again, again, and again, but still no luck. And nobody had a working cell phone. Seriously people, no cell phones? Finally after a hundred tries, my dad picked up and said he had no idea what was going on, other than he had just gotten home and found a note that they took Mom to the ER. I gave him a quick run-down and told him to call me when he got to the ER and figured out what was going on. He said he couldn't call me because he didn't have a cell phone. I insisted that he take my numbers anyway since it's a hospital and they DO HAVE PHONES.

Then I lost it. I sobbed, I prayed, I called Brian at work, I tried to call Heather, I paced, I cried some more, I prayed some more, I looked at plane tickets to Montana, and I just waited . . . nervous . . . scared. I couldn't quit thinking about the fact that the last thing I had said to my Mom was a rather bitchy demand to put my brother on the phone. Not the way I would have liked to end our conversation.

About an hour or so later, my phone finally rang and it was my sister-in-law (Kurt's wife), Kelly. She told me that Mom had made it to the ER, they were running tests on her as we were speaking, and she would be in touch WITH HER CELL PHONE. Thank God someone finally had a cell phone! I know it's Montana, but come on . . .

Awhile later my dad called and said they were still running more tests, but they didn't think she had had a stroke. THANK YOU GOD. A couple hours after that they were back at home, Mom was safe, and everyone was there with her. She was still very confused, and even though she knew who everyone was, she still had no memories dating back at least a couple years. She was not hungry (even though she hadn't eaten anything), she was not tired (even though it was very late), and she was obsessed with finding a pinky ring that she had misplaced. Apparently she asked my dad every two minutes where the ring was because she had no recollection of having just asked him two minutes before.

By the next morning things were still very fuzzy for her, but small pieces of her memory were starting to come back. She could remember Barb and Kurt being over the night before, although she could not remember anything about the hospital. When I called she said that she was feeling better but "could still hide her own Easter eggs." Obviously her sense of humor hadn't gone anywhere.

I checked in with her throughout the day, and each time I talked to her memory had improved a little bit more. By the end of the day, there was only about six hours that she could not recall at all, and of course it was the six hours starting with my original phone call to her, and ending with her trip to the hospital. Even today, she still doesn't remember talking to me or going to the hospital . . . although she is still bothered by the missing ring. Even though the ring is completely replaceable, something in her subconscious will not allow her to let go of the ring, even though her rational side knows it's silly. Very strange.

At this point, the consensus is that my Mom experienced something that is referred to as Transient Global Amnesia (TGA). TGA is a sudden episode of memory loss that cannot be explained by any neurological condition or specific situation. Like my Mom, you remember who you are and who those are around you, but you cannot remember where you are, how you got there, or any recent events. It is a somewhat rare condition, and although there are a lot of theories as to why it occurs (stress, hormones, etc.), there is no general consensus. The amnesia usually starts to resolved itself within 24 hours, at which time most people regain all memories except for the time period during the amnesia. This was the diagnosis of the ER doctor, but Mom has a follow-up appointment with her general practitioner and a neurologist next week . . . so we'll see what they say.

Dissecting that entire experience on an emotional level would take a whole other blog entry, and I'm not sure if I even want to. At this point I feel like it might be something that will be shared between my Mom and I, at some future time, when we have a chance to get past all the questions and concerns. But I can tell you that this was perhaps one of the most frightening experiences I've ever endured. It reminded me how precious life is and how quickly things can change. It reminded me to appreciate every minute I have with those that I love, even if it is just a minute on the phone. For a brief time I allowed myself to imagine my life without my Mom, and it is just something I cannot fathom having to do. My Mom has been my constant since the day I took my first breath in this world, and I cannot imagine having to breathe without her. I just thank God that He gave me more time with her and for reminding me to enjoy EVERY MINUTE.