Wasted Talent

It's December 13th, and, in Texas, that means the winter is starting, which means that it is cool enough to wear jeans and sweaters and fleece jackets (sometimes). Generally, I only miss the snow for about two weeks in December. The missing snow phase starts now and ends on December 26th. After that, I am over it. I mean, I used to say ridiculous things like, "I can't imagine Christmas without snow!" (Um, yes I can. It's really not that different, actually.) As I watched Chicago get nailed with snow during the Bears game on Sunday night, I would be lying (and I sort of hate that I even did this to the city I love) if I didn't tell you that Andy and I watched the game, the snow beating down, and, in the midst of discussing how badly it would have sucked to shovel out our cars the next day, thought, "Suckas!" (It is, I am sure, the same way I would feel if I moved back North and saw news clips of Houston during the hellish summer heat and hurricane season--almost. I mean, really, I have lived in both, and, while the heat of the Houston summer is nothing to be laughed at, it's manageable. When people from here see clips of Erie's lake effect snow, however, they do not think it is at all "manageable." Snow=disaster for winter virgins trying to drive--not at all the same with heat, in my opinion.)

Anyway, but the point of this post is more about Christmas and winter and Eddie Bauer, Lands' End, and L.L. Bean catalogs. I am really, really good at buying winter gear. Really good. I walked a dog in Chicago for 4 years, after all. And I had a kick-ass down coat (that I still own) that goes down to my toes. I did love buying hats and gloves and boots. And so, when I look at these catalogs, I want just a tiny excuse to pick up something new in that department (which would be totally ridiculous, as I have two boxes filled with said gear upstairs in my spare room closet). But anyway, in Texas, my winter talent is wasted. No need to remember my winter driving rules: Beware of black ice! (10 dollars to any of my Texas or Louisiana friends who knows what that is!), Don't pump the brakes if you have anti-lock! etc, etc., Likewise is my talent wasted for picking out cute coordinating winter accessories. Cute hats and scarves be damned. And no, it doesn't get cold enough to wear that swag here, and I personally think you look ridiculous if you do. I saw a woman walking her dog on Sunday with her hat, scarves and gloves on. It was 56, and I had my sunroof open, singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" at the top of my lungs. Maybe my winter talent isn't wasted after all.

Kirby dressed in his balaclava--a winter must-have.
Andy, ready to take Kirby on a walk. He did this every morning at 5:30 before work. Again, rockin' the balaclava and ski goggles.

What a Difference a Year Makes...

A year ago tonight, I was preparing our things to head to Texas Children's early the following morning on December 9, when Mitchell had his "big surgery" (Nephrectomy=icky ruined kidney removed). I can hardly believe it has been a year, and, when I think back to that time, filled with worry and uncertainty, all that anxiety and fear comes flooding back. In the year since he got his bum kidney out, Mitch has thrived. Really, his is the best possible outcome. I belong to a few PUV (Posterior Urethral Valves) information/parent groups, and many of the boys who survive are on hemodialysis awaiting transplants. Sadly, many boys with PUV do not survive 40 weeks gestation. We are so, so lucky. Mitch goes to see his Nephrologist right after the first of the year, and we are optimistic that she will continue to be pleased with his results. In February, we go for our biannual visit to Dr. G and the Urology clinic, compete with renal ultrasound (waaaaaay better than a VCUG!), and we hope and pray that his remaining kidney continues to be the rock star that it is.

Here's a look back at some of Mitch's journey:

Here he is at 10 days old, right before his first VCUG. Little did we know how our world would be rocked that day. The Radiologist came out after she looked at the images and said, "We have paged your Pediatrician, and you are going to go straight up to the 8th floor to meet with Dr. Gonzales in Urology. Your son has a rare condition called Posterior Urethral Valves, and he needs to be seen right now." I will never forget sitting outside of the Urology Clinic, seeing Dr. G come up from surgery in scrubs, and walk past us as we waited. Knowing now what a big shot he is, how busy the clinic is, and how crazy the surgery schedule is, I realize how serious Mitch's condition was.

Here we are in our quarters at Texas Children's prior to Mitch's first surgery. We were admitted the same day as the previous picture, right after we met with Dr. G.

Here we are last year at this time, December 9, 2009, in pre-op with our smiley little man. Even though it was his third surgery, it never gets easier to hand off your baby to the OR nurse.

Mitch, doped up on Morphine. It was a rough 48 hours, and then he was so much better. Kids heal so fast and are so resilient.

It was fitting that today I learned that the National Kidney Foundation has finally rescheduled the Houston Kidney Walk for April 30, 2011. You'll be hearing from me to join our team as a walker (Texas friends!) or to join us as a supporter.

Giving Thanks

In the "fort" with Henry and my Veuve. Yum!

Big boys eating dinner
Say "TURKEY!"
Lowering the bird into the hot oil, complete with high tech kitchen town arm protector.
And...prepping the forearm.

We boycotted traveling for Thanksgiving pretty much one year into being married. At the time, we were in Chicago, and, after fighting holiday traffic to get to Erie, only to head back a few weeks later, we decided we'd break out all the lovely china people got us for our nuptials and host our own Thanksgiving. This year were were solo, which, while sort of sad, was actually nice and relaxing. We decided to forgo the traditional oven-roasted bird for one injected with cajun butter and deep fried in our outdoor kitchen. I also made the expected trimmings, with a new addition of a sinful brussels sprouts recipe from my friend, Michelle.