Mo drama fo yo mama

Long time since my last post. Crazy days.

We had another scare with our sweet boys last Saturday: bad car accident. Our babysitter, Victoria (or Vik-tor-dya as Jensen says) who was with us for the last 2+ years decided to move to the city (that means Chicago around these here parts), and she had a big goodbye planned with the big boys. She took them to the zoo, to the park, to an apple orchard. On their way home from her farewell tour, she decided to do one last thing and stop by an aircraft museum. As she turned off the main road, she was hit by a fast-moving SUV.

I must have a crisis mode in my brain, and it has unfortunately received some excellent training and good practice. Just after my classes let out in the city, I glanced at my phone and saw that Liz had tried calling twice and sent an ominous text: "Call me!" I knew something was wrong, so I started walking quickly to the parking garage while I called her, thinking all the while about how to get home in the fastest way possible in the trust '02 Civic. Liz answered and said in her emergency voice, "They were in an accident, they're going by ambulance to the hospital, meet me there."

She got a good friend to watch the baby, then she rushed to the hospital about 45 minutes away. I raced there from downtown (I had been in school in the city) and I arrived five minutes after she got there. I was so relieved to see Cohen, scraped and dirty, but calm and resting in the ER bed. Jensen was playing with Victoria's phone, he was fine. We pray for her: her back and neck still hurt a week later, and we hope she will have a full and fast recovery.

Cohen's back was sore for 3 days, but he's 100% fine now. Jensen had no symptoms at all. We saw pictures of the car and the SUV after the fact. The car is totaled from being broadsided by the SUV, which is probably totaled as well. The side curtain airbag probably protected Jensen from any injuries. A big ol' public thanks to Victoria for making sure the boys always were in car seats. We are so grateful for their collective safety: it could have been so much worse.

I won't complain about how busy I am, since the Harvard Business Review told me not to:

"Yes, we all have some strange need to out-misery each other. Acknowledging that is a first step. But next time you speak to a friend and want to lament about how busy you are, ask yourself why. Try steering the conversation away from a complain-off. With some practice you might find yourself actually feeling less “buried” (or at least feeling less of a need to say it all the time)."

So no out-miserying anyone here. At least not today. Until I feel like it again. OK, I feel like it again.

Work is good, but very busy, and I am thankful for my department peeps that help carry the load. Schoolwork is overwhelming lately. Apparently we're near the "I think I'm going to die" part of the program, although we just passed the half-way point. Good thing I have great classmates who are always willing to lend a hand. I have a whole lot of favors to pay forward.

I need to also publicly thank Gym Guy. Not because of any particular favors he has done for me, but because he helped me realize that I shall never, no never, sit on the nice leather couch to watch TV in the fancy locker room. Let's just say that I hope it's a fake leather couch that easily cleans with Clorox wipes. Gym Guy really needs to put some clothes on.