Sunny's Birth Day Cartoon by Pat

The day Sunny was born Pat didn't get to see it happen. He was waiting to find out if one or both of us was going to live in a waiting room until they brought out a little glow worm with black hair. She was already smiling and had very big eyes. I was in the recovery room from the C-section. The anesthesiologist said I talked about the Beach Boys and the Indiana Pacers at length. I only kind of remember that and it's weird. I don't usually talk bball since moving to Cali. But I've also learned that my memory has these rich pockets of detail.

I want to share this cartoon with you. It's what Pat did biding his time during and after the birth because he was alone or I was shaking my head silently saying, "Forget what the birth coach said. Now get away and turn off the Enya stat!"

Enjoy but make sure you click to see his detail and writing.

Love you blogfriends. Thank you so much for the kind wishes. I'm doing better off facebook. Phew. But I'm still here because...well, I like it.

And Adriana, I feel like a putz because I didn't know it was your bday when we met last week. Good thing I showered you with xmas gifts instead huh? You are a treasure to me. Happy happy happy birth day to you. Thank your Mom for me.

R.I.P. Inga and Patches and Welcome Back College Candi

1993 Spain sun in my hair.

photo Karyn Hlad Miller

Fall on me Facebook...

No poet dogwasher/massager likes to double-up on their memorial posts. Especially me.

I haven't been having the best mental health lately if you haven't noticed by my Internet silence. I'm saying for the record right here that I'm sorry: Fern, All That Trouble, Christy, Emily and all others I love and treasure. I haven't been commenting but I'll be back when the serotonin swings my way again. But honestly, life ain't nice right now and I'm working on it. Remember waaaaaaay back in the summer when I started my Life Stoke project? I golfed. I bowled. I went places and took pictures. I smiled. I laughed.

Lately, like since I joined Facebook, I cried. I obsessed. I cried. I flashedback. I cried. I panicked. I obsessed. I flashedback. I felt shame. I felt remorse. I felt my heart being hooked and pulled by every memory ever. As a survivor of some past childhood crap I've already dealt with some Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was not prepared for the movie reel of college memories that would come with Facebook. And I didn't know how much I disapproved of that Candi and thought she was separate from this Candi. The one blogging. Like, right now.

Turns out we are the same Candi. Fancy that. And this one is not sleeping or eating and is having non-stop fast-forward total recall and frankly it blows. Chunks.

But an old friend posted an album of pictures she took on the art appreciation trip we took to Spain over xmas and new years 1993-94. This was where Christy and I really fell for each other as best friends. I mean we were best friends since 7th (or 8th??) grade but all that jet lagged hyperactivity and boy-crazy hormones made this the cement of our friendship.
This picture shows Christy after a cold shower because we couldn't figure out how to turn on the hot water and we didn't know what that bidet thingy was. I believe Christy's best guess was it was to wash our clothes in. Ummmm. How about our butts? Didn't try it myself but I know some of the other people on our trip did and liked it. Maybe they are members of the Bidet Lovers group on Facebook? So that's me singing into a water bottle wearing a cute but itchy new Spain hat. Christy would soon put on a red handkerchief and do her Axel Rose dance for me and I would laugh until the neighbors banged on the wall.photo Karyn Hlad Miller

Ohhhhhhhh. I love love love this one because we are glowing. And I'm wearing a lot of flannel. photo Karyn Hlad Miller

Spain! I wanna live forever! I wanna learn how to fly. High!

photo Karyn Hlad Miller

But, I cannot stay away. I cannot not write my blog. I love my blog like I love my dogs...

Segue:

Patches was a miracle dog for a while. And I guess you never stop being a miracle dog if you once were. So, her owner's elderly mom passed away about last year at this time and then Patches got very ill. Her owner had all but given up. I could barely bathe the poor thing for her body pain. Then her owner pulled her off her medicine and Patches rallied and got puppyish for a few months. We were all dancing and happy for her. Even though she was still walking into the sliding glass door when she needed to pee. But hey I do that too.

I'm going to miss you my freckled friend.

Then Inga's owner called and let me know that she passed "as a happy camper" on Saturday. Two days after I saw her and kissed her smelly head. She has been hanging on despite serious kidney problems. I washed/massaged her every other week. She was a major player in my life because her owners counted on me to be an integral part of her health regimen. Did I mention the smelly head? Yes. Well, it was her whole smelly body actually. When the kidneys don't function properly the skin is the first to show it.
No more pain darling. I love you.

And now Sunny wants to say: "I just want to do something today. I went to the libary [sic] and I met my friend Jermy [sic] and we went to the park. We had a great day. It's really true. Come with us someday whoever you are. I have a bunch of toys at my house for you."

p.s. Just because Sunny asked you to come over please call first so I'm not currently crying or obsessing.

Funny Face Competition from Sunny to All Your Kids

Ok kids: Bring It...









Werd. Now you.