OK, OK, but before you get all piqued at me about not posting, quick pop quiz. Which of the following things happened in the four months since my last substantial post?
1.) Random stray gunfire came in through our window one night
2.) I took the Anesthesia written boards
3.) Joe was hospitalized for three days in the cardiac ICU
4.) We found a new rental in a less bullet-y neighborhood and are moving in five weeks
All of the above, my friends. All of the above.
First thing: I reposted those two entries I redacted a few months ago, here and here. There, now everyone knows what I was cryptically referring to in my penultimate post before that video with Cal and the driving dogs. We got a bullet through our window. No one was hurt, but really, a bullet through our window? That is excessive drama by any standards, and I am a decidedly undramatic person. Despite the sweeps season-like air that the incident lent this blog, I took down my posts about the bullet shortly after posting it because Joe didn't want his parents (read: Mom) to know about what happened until we were out of our current living situation (lest she worry unduly), and I found that since I couldn't talk about the bullet and I couldn't really talk too much about work and since I couldn't talk about XYZ other topics for a wide variety of reasons (ranging from general discretion to topics just too boring to write about), I realized I couldn't think of anything to blog about. One week became two, became a month, etcetera etcetera. The more you stay away, the more you stay away. Anyway, barring any further upheaval to cap off the year (perhaps alien abduction would be a fitting coup de grace), I will resolve to do better. Perhaps I will do what I did last year after I fell off the wagon for an overlong period of time. 30 posts in 30 days, that kind of thing. Anyway, we'll see.
Oh yes, Joe in the ICU. That was about two weeks ago. Short answer: viral myocarditis. Long answer: I will try and get a blog entry up about it sometime soon, both about the general experience and about the dual advantage/terror of being a healthcare professional hospitalized for a potentially serious condition. He's out now and doing better of course, or I wouldn't be talking about it at all. Call me superstitious, but I'm a firm believer that talking about bad things makes them come true.
Cal and Mack are both doing well. Cal started school a few weeks ago. He is in Pre-K this year--after some stunning-to-the-teachers (though not stunning to us) gains in the social arena during the Spring semester, his teachers decided not to pursue the issue of retention, and though he still is the youngest kid in his class this year, he's basically normalized himself amongst his peers and is just acting like a regular kid--talking and playing and laughing and running around, as opposed to sitting on the sidelines with the teachers chatting about numbers and scowling evilly about this kid or that kid breaking the rules. (Among other things little-old-manly, Cal loves pointing out and imposing rules on others, sometimes in less than adorable ways. My little mid-level manager.)
And Mack?
Mack is delicious.
So let's jump back into it, shall we? Or hell, I'll do you one better. Forget 30 posts in 30 days. It's 60 posts in 60 days this time around, baby. This is called "penance." And lord knows we have enough to catch up on.
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