August

August...where have you gone? I have so many posts to make and catch up on, but as long as I'm up to my eyeballs in Special Election it's not going to happen.

The kids started school August 24...I have pictures that'll be posted hopefully this year.

Ry has started physical therapy and is out of his sling...no pictures of him slingless, but I imagine I could probably follow him to therapy one day and snag some.

Chels' volleyball season has started...pictures are forthcoming...Spring 2012 probably.

Cam is in middle school...no pictures; me snapping away as she entered the middle school doors would've been enough to make her want to crawl in a hole. I'm just not cool anymore and it would've pushed her over the edge to have me follow her around like mommarazzi.

Dan and I...well, we're just Dan and I. Nothing different except maybe a few pounds here and there. I found some, he lost some, that kind of stuff.

Anyway, I WILL get back on the posting wagon once this election's over.

And Exhale...

We are crying gratitude tears. Ryan's surgery wasn't exactly what we'd hoped for. Actually, a far cry from what we expected. As they wheeled my beautiful baby boy away from me I was under the impression they would bring him back to me in about 45 minutes to an hour. Two hours later I hit panic and begged Danny to go find out where he was. He was still in surgery. The sweet nurse, Jaime, must've known I was incredibly upset because she tried to gloss everything over with "sometimes they have more than one OR going at a time and they'll bounce back and forth. That's most likely what's taking so long." Wrong. When Dr. Nakken got in there, he discovered much, much more than he could've ever anticipated.

Ryan tore his rotator cuff (which we expected), two tears in the labrum, tore the tendons in his bicep, and the joint was completely open. It defies logic that his arm wasn't hanging uselessly by his side, that he was able to function, and Doc said he's never seen so much trauma in a kid so young.

Dr. Nakken successfully put him back together, but delivered some excessively painful news. He has grave reservations about Ry ever taking the mound again. As a matter of fact, he's pretty sure it won't happen. Ever. He will not even be released to pick up a baseball for an entire year.

My son will miss the last baseball season of his high school career.

Who would've thought that the pictures I snapped at district playoffs this year would be the last of my graceful, hard working son on the mound? I certainly didn't, but that makes them all the more precious.

I hope I never have to listen to another one of my children mourn the loss of a dream. I thought my heart was going to break completely while I listened to my son sob and moan "no more baseball, mom? Mom? No more baseball? Oh no..." over and over.

Ryan will go through hell over the next year. He will be engaging in very intense physical therapy. Dr. Nakken said that they will rehab him as though he were going to play again, in the hopes that he will regain some of the ability. That being said, he was very emphatic about making sure we understand the reality of the situation: he will most likely never pitch again. Unless a miracle occurs. We've already received our miracle; our son is alive. Ryan survived an accident that clearly should've killed him.

I will take it. I will take our one miracle and be grateful every day for the rest of my life. As many tears as I have shed in the last several days, I cannot help but thank my Heavenly Father for sparing our son. I simply couldn't live without him.

So we will put the baseball dream to bed and wait to see what it is that he was spared for...STAY TUNED for greatness.

Holding Our Breath...cont...

Happy tears! Ry is scheduled for surgery next Wednesday. He has definitely torn his rotator cuff, but Doc said it looks like the labrum is intact (he won't know for sure until he gets in there). It's going to be a grueling and painful seven months for the kid, but he will see the baseball field from the top of the mound come spring! Miracles happen and Heavenly Father defintely answers prayers. Woohoo!

Time for the Walter Houston dance...it's ugly, but as far as celebratory movements go, it works. :)

Emergencies

I found out last night that I will never be of any use during an extreme situation. I was 17 questions into my exam and my laptop arbitrarily shut down. Yep. All of a sudden the screen came up and said "Windows is shutting down...". What did I do? I hollered "No! No, no, no, no, no!" and proceeded to start bawling like a little baby. I let it shut down, knowing full well that the little timer on my test was most likely ticking still and that the odds were very high that I'd already lost the answers to those 17 questions, including the two that were essays. While the computer was restarting, I was sitting on the bed, knees tucked up to my chin, rocking back and forth and crying like a lunatic chanting, "Holy sh**. Holy sh**. Holy sh**...". Then, I remembered that I thought I heard Dan Lloyd come home. I went tearing downstairs and scared the hell out of him (I must've looked nuts...wild eyed and really crazy) because he jumped up and said, "What's wrong?!". To which I answered hysterically, "The computer shut itself down in the middle of my test! Oh noooooooo! Oh, noooooooo. I will never -sob- be able to -sob- rewrite those essays. -sob, sob harder- The answers were really good, too. -sob-". Yeah, I think it's safe to say that should anything really ever happen, someone will have to reenact all those famous old movies scenes, pull back their hand and slap me. Hard.

Luck was on my side, though, because Dan Lloyd got it up and running. All of my answers were still there and I'd only lost ten minutes. TEN MINUTES! At any rate, I was completely rattled for the rest of the test. I'm so mad, I would've had a perfect score except that I second guessed myself on four questions and changed my answers. They were right the first time. What a night. Needless to say, I was completely exhausted by the time I was done and had that funny feeling in my chest you get when you've cried really hard for hours. Brother.

I was thinking about taking the fall semester off because I feel like I'm not being a very good mother. I don't cook dinner anymore, I don't clean house, my kids do ALL of the laundry, and half the time I don't even know where they are. I'm not sure I can be a decent mother and go to school at the same time. The flipside is, I think if I stop now the time may never come again. So, I'm only taking one measly class in the fall. At this rate it's going to take me ten years to get my AA, but my family is so much more important than my selfish drive for education.

BTW, if you ever have an emergency situation and you need someone to chant "Holy sh**" in a very special, super creepy way, I'm your girl...

(I apologize for the bad language in this post. As demonstrated in the above described situation it is clear that I come completely apart in certain situations,and my sailor's mouth unleashes. Hey, my dad WAS in the Navy, so you see? I come by it naturally. Of course, I'd NEVER tell you that I learned half of all the swear words I know from my mom. I would never rat her out like that.)

Holding our breath

It has been over a month now since Ry had his accident. He is still having incredible troubles with his shoulder and the range of mobility is extremely limited. I took Ry over to UT yesterday for an MRI. It doesn't look good. The dye was seen in parts of his shoulder that usually indicate a torn rotator cuff, the labrum to be exact. This is the kind of injury that, when sustained by college kids and major leaguers, ends careers and dreams. It usually results in surgery and painful physical rehabilitation and only 1% ever recover enough to see the pitching mound again.

We won't find out for certain until Friday.

Please keep Ry in your prayers...I believe in miracles and my baby boy sure needs one. He's not quite ready to give up his dream.

Issues...I got 'em

I am a social misfit. There are simply no two ways about it. I always say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, don't know how to be assertive, take a back seat to everyone's needs or wants. I get in groups and freeze. I withdraw. I'm scared and I just don't fit in. Period. And I'm lonely. I want to be good friends with people; great friends, but I just can't seem to let the walls come down. Through the course of the last 35 and a half years, every person I've ever let behind the walls has broken, no, obliterated my heart. Stomped on it like the love and loyalty I have to offer has no worth. Like I am only good enough if there aren't better things to do, and there are always better things to do. I have dealt with more heartache brought on by people I thought were my truest friends in the last three years and I just can't seem to recover. Forgive, forget, all that crap we've heard our entire lives. Walk away, let it go. It's all bologna, and my heart refuses to listen to my head. Regardless, I keep pushing myself to try and be more social, but it's no use. I just feel weird and really uncomfortable. There is no place in this world that I truly feel okay in my skin except home, work, and with my books. I like to think I'm eccentric, but the truth is, I'm simply a social retard with nothing to offer except a bunch of hooey I know from books.

I think that sometimes, when our hearts have been so completely damaged, there's just no going back. You move forward, do the best you can, but you are forever changed. Changed in ways that, no matter how hard you try or how badly you want something different, it just is what it is and you can't fix it. Those walls live on and they are more than fortified. They are now impenetrable from every side. And rather than run the risk of being chewed up and spit out again, measured and found wanting, you pull back. Keep everyone at arms length and always wonder what it would be like if you had a close friend. A best friend. What if people really cared about you? You'll never know, because you simply can't run the risk of letting them past the moat, let alone over the drawbridge to the inner sanctum. It is sad really, to know that you will never again fully trust someone with your entire self, knowing that even when you relax just enough to almost have fun, you will never let anyone know your full self. Knowing that if they did, if they really knew who you are, it would be the same outcome as always. So much trash to be kicked aside.

So while everyone is over at the park, I will crawl back into my books where it is safe. I will grow my mind and love the people I meet in text.

2011 Dance Review

Cam's Dance Review was AWESOME! She does such a great job and can really "get down". It was wonderful to see how hard she's worked all year and how much she's progressed. My beautiful dancer-girl. Mindy, Cam's instructor, has some really amazing showmanship. You can really tell she's having a ball up there. She smiles, hoops and hollers, it's so fun to watch. I had to throw in the last picture of the little girl, they were chickens and it busted me up they were so cute and sweet.

End of Softball Season

Chels' season ended a lot happier than the boys'. Chels' played her guts out all year long and succeeded in learning to beat the mental game. It was impressive and quite something to behold. I am so proud of how strong she grew, both mentally and physically. The girls ended with a District Title and a tough battle at state. Games that were still 0-0 in the 6th inning or had extra innings. Nuts! The girls didn't win at state, but they had a fantastic season.

The end of the season...baseball, that is

The end of Ry's Junior year baseball season was extremely tragic. We got the screws put to us by the umps in the District Playoffs. Disgusting. We were ahead by two runs, when the home plate ump called a bock of Ry. Ryan wasn't even on the mound yet, so how in the world is that possible? It all went down hill from there. Right after that, our right fielder made an amazing catch and, due to his momentum, fell over the back fence and dropped the ball. The 1st base ump called it a homerun. Hasn't that fool ever heard of "catch and carry"? So, Danny went out to argue the call (he never lost his temper or raised his voice...I was so proud of him). The ump tells him he doesn't have the right to appeal the call and tosses him from the game. Danny goes to the head ump to appeal the call; during that time some things were said by our fans (mostly arguing that they shouldn't throw Dan out as he has the right to appeal). The comments by our fans resulted in the first base ump grabbing his junk multiple times at the crowd. Nasty little guy. There were several other things that culminated in our catcher, who is a Senior, getting ejected from the game. After Danny was booted, our kids did the best they could to keep playing, but you could see that they'd been taken out of the game mentally. Ry pitched several strikes, but shockingly enough, the home plate ump's strike zone had magically shrunk to the size of a playing card. There was nothing we could do. The boys fought hard, but knew they were done. Ry pitched the ball, Randon caught it and came up to pick the guy off on third. However, the batter hadn't stepped out of the box, so Randon threw the ball and it hit the kid right in the side of the helmet; knocked him goofy. And what happened? The ump ejected Randon from the game. No kidding. Technically the batter should've been out for interference. Disappointing and sad. Our catcher didn't even get to finish the last game he'll ever play. After the game, things got strange. The 1st base ump went to the bus and confronted my BIL Leland. During the discussion, the ump head butted Leland in the face, resulting in a fat lip. When the NIAA director was told about everything that happened his response was, "What? What happened? Who was involved? Oh, Lincoln. There's nothing I can do about it." Truth is, LCHS will never win a district title as long as we are playing at Needles, a school that shouldn't even be in our league because it's in CA. Sad, sad ending to the season. I haven't cried over the end of baseball season, well, ever. It was tragic and felt so unfinished. It is a terrible thing to see grown boys cry due to the frustration of not even being given a fair chance.

Bambi's Dad...watch out!

The power of positive thinking works. No kidding. Friday morning, before tags came out, I very confidently told Judge Papez I would be drawing a 22 tag. He laughed at me and said, "Now there's a great example of hopeful thinking." To which I replied, "No, really. You'll see that I'm a 22 tag holder in just a matter of hours." Yes I was being cocky and partly joking. Funny thing is, I really DID feel confident I would draw a tag. I'm certain you can guess what happened with the draw.

The best part about being a tag holder is that I get Dan Lloyd all to myself for three whole weeks. Indeed, I get to spend three whole weeks with my best friend, hiking in God's beautiful, yet treacherous, country, breathing in the clean air, watching the sun rise/set, and just "being". I LOVE being the tag holder. Unless it snows and it's cold. Then, I'm a disgruntled crybaby, well mentally anyway. I try to keep the griping to a minimum, but if anyone could ever hear my thoughts...

At any rate, Bambi's dad had better be on the lookout for me and the .243, or maybe even the cannon (Dan's 400 ultra). He's in trouble this year as I fully intend to be serving him up on the dinner table. ;)

Heart Attacks and the E.R.

I was enjoying a lovely evening at home, just sitting on the couch watching TV. All by myself. Just me and total control of the television. Danny had gotten called out to work. Cam was at a friend's house staying the night. Chels was with her friends roasting marshmallows at the Sand Dunes. And, Ryan, oh Ryan, heaven bless that child. Ryan went bunny bashing with two of his friends, Mitchell and Joey. They'd taken off for the circle field on their four wheelers to have a little fun.

Just finished up a fascinating documentary on HBO when the phone rang. It was Ry. I knew something was wrong immediately. He told me he'd wrecked, tore up the four wheeler pretty badly, and that he was in bad shape himself. I confess, I panicked a little. I didn't know where the circle field was nor did I have a clue how I was going to load a broken six foot boy & his 800 lb. four wheeler into the truck.

Thank heavens for Donnie, who didn't bat an eyelash when I called him in something of a panic. I picked him up and we went and got Ry. The four wheeler, thank heavens, in is much worse shape than my son.

We met Danny at the house and headed to the ER for what I believe to be Ryan's 9th trip since he was a small boy.

Who should be on call? Why, the same staff as always. Bart, the P.A., and Nurse Jim. There were quite a few jokes made, at Ry's expense, after they'd ascertained that this is one lucky kid and he'd live to see another day. Riding that fast without a helmet, and rolling this machine goodness knows how many times, is beyond dangerous, and all he did was dislocate his shoulder; that qualifies him as lucky. I'm so grateful that Heavenly Father was watching over Ryan. We've officially been offered frequent flyer miles at Grover C. Dils ER.

I'm excessively grateful that Ry is okay. Dang kids.

The Sands of Time

The Sands of Time are unstoppable. The days we spend wishing our lives away are precious moments we will never get back.

My baby boy is a Senior in high school as of two minutes ago. I am happy/sad. I plan on spending the next 12 months hugging him more than ever and savoring every moment.

Ryan, being blessed to be your mom is one of the greatest joys of my life. You are a wonderful human being, and I am lucky beyond belief to know you. I have enjoyed every day thus far in the journey of watching you become who I always knew you would be. You are the son every mother in this world hopes for, the kind that believes in helping old ladies across the street. You are my heart. I love you. No mother could be more proud of the person her child has become and will continue to become.

Oh the sweet strains!

This world would be horrible without music. I love how music, and smells too, can take you back in time. Music is a time machine in and of itself. It brings back the good and bad times. And they're all great.

I've been editing photos from my most recent shoot with my fabulous friend Emilia and her lovely family. As always, you know I've got some jams on. Tonight, the jams are making me melancholy. Elton John was right when he sang "the kick inside is in the line that finally gets to you and it feels so good to hurt so bad...and suffer just enough to sing the blues". Yep, I'm singing the blues while being happy at the same time. Listening to some seriously old school country jams, and I feel so close to my dad right now. He would be really proud of me today. His baby girl got a perfect score on her English test.

I might be old as crap, Daddy, but I can still write!

Easter Egg Hunt

Saturday was such a fun day. We slept in late (loved it!) and made a mad dash to get ready and go watch Cam in what will probably be her last Pioche Easter egg hunt. She was all smiles until the numbers were drawn. Cam didn't win and when I was snapping her picture and said, "Show me what winners look like" this is the happy face I received as a reply. Yep, she's a competitive Lloyd through and through.

The last picture displays all the beauty of Cam's absolutely, not-sure-you-can-see-'em, favorite shoes. Bold and bright, just like their owner.

Got my gear!

In spite of the fact that Dan Lloyd continues to tell us we're going to get jumped by wearing Yankees goods to Angels Stadium, we're wearing it anyway. Hey, I watched "The Fighter" (Christian Bale and Marky Mark were amazing); I feel more than qualified to kick some tush, AND I have stayed at a Holiday Inn Express. We'll be just fine.

Besides, how can you show your team spirit if you're not decked out in their gear? That's right; you can't.

Our Last Science Fair

Cam decided to test window cleaners for the science fair. Can vinegar clean better than Windex? You bet! Cam's vinegar concoction cleans just about anything you can imagine and it does a fantastic job, even if it's super stinky. It's an earth friendly way to kill the cooties in your house. I was incredibly proud to see Cam's display. She worked really hard and proved her theory to be correct.

Wooooooooohooooooooo, Jeter!!!

I can hardly wait! June 3 will see the Dan Lloyd clan sitting in Angel Stadium rooting for our favorite Yankee, Derek Jeter. We've got great seats and, with Jeter on the roster, a fantastic view. I don't care if the critics say he's not as good as he used to be; truth is, he's not. None of us are as good as we used to be. That's called getting older. But who cares?! He's still easy on the eyes and a total class act.

Go, Yankees!!!!!!