Catching up

I'm sorry I've been away. It's been quite a week and a half.

Here then are the Cliff's Notes:

Thursday: Go to neurosurgeon consultation to see what's up with Baby's big head. Thankfully, the surgeon arrogantly dismisses us, which our pediatrician later shows me is a very good thing (you want specialists to be bored and uninterested), but which does result in me having a near meltdown when the front desk staff treats me as if I'm bothering them when I ask them to check their fax machine for Baby's charts.

Friday night: Just as we're about to jump into the car to head to Jerz to throw my dad a surprise birthday party, C. gets a call. Very sad news. His grandmother has taken a turn for the worse, and is nearing the end of her life. We need to go see her. Tonight.

Friday night, later: We detour to western Maryland, and thankfully have a chance to see Mom-Mom. She's not awake, but I think she knows we were there. And Baby was able to give Chris' mom some relief.

Friday night/Saturday morning: Arrive in New Jersey. Collapse.

Saturday: Spend all day acting like nothing's going on, while secretly prepping for Dad's party.

Saturday morning: Chris gets the sad call that his grandmother has passed away. She was 90, almost 91, and a very cool lady.

Saturday afternoon: We stay through, because there's nothing we can do back in Md., but also because the party is that night.

Saturday evening: Finally get Dad out of the house with Bro #2 and C. to play golf. Clean like madwomen with Mom and sisters-in-law.

Saturday night: Surprise! Thankfully, everything goes as smoothly as a crazy surprise party can. Dad is happily surprised.

Sunday, 2 a.m.: Good Lord, how are we all still awake? And who drank all that Ketel One?

Sunday: Drive to Maryland. See family. Be sad. Return to Va. to unpack, repack, and plan for the week.

Monday morning: Go to work, explain that I'm doing as much as I can in a few hours, then heading out.

Monday afternoon: Head back to Md., hopefully in time for the 3 p.m. viewing.

Monday evening: Go to viewing, then back to my mother-in-law's house for food. Marvel at the machine that is the church ladies feeding team. Unbelieveable. Head back to funeral home for evening viewing. Return. Collapse.

Tuesday: Get everybody up and out to funeral at the nursing home. Marvel at how life can be summed up in a few words, some flowers and thankfully the many, many people who cared deeply about you. May we all live so long with so many people who love us.

Tuesday afternoon: After trip to Pa. cemetery, and a sad final goodbye, return to mother-in-law's. Devour any food that dares get into our path.

Tuesday evening: Stay at in-law's. Amuse with baby whenever possible.

Wednesday morning: Get up. Get packed. Get dropped off at work.

Thursday-Friday: Work, including evening events.

Saturday: Thankfully, nothing. Lots of it.

Sunday: Cook (OK, C cooked), clean, grumble at one another about WHY WE DIDN'T DO THIS YESTERDAY, frantically dart around like waterbugs trying to get cleaned up, Baby dressed, us all out the door to church and back again to welcome in-laws for Easter dinner. Change plans midstream, to go with a divide and conquer strategy: I'd take Baby to church why C. finishes house. The reasoning was sound, and the dear Lord would understand, for good reason, as C. so eloquently stated: "I fear the wrath of God, and the wrath of my relatives. And one of them is much more forgiving." Have Easter dinner, to include an incredibly good meal of horseradish and garlic encrusted prime rib roast. Smile in amazement at Baby's ability to light up everyone's faces even in the saddest of times. Say a prayer of thanks.

So that's what's been up. More to come on my education on all things Baltimore, of what a cool grandmother my husband had, and the definition of a club basement.

Virtually bumping into one another

I've spent this morning, when BabywithaCold decided on a blissful (for both of us) hour-long nap, to kick around with some of the social bookmarking sites.

I write about this stuff all the time, but don't do a great job of using it. Translation: I have a facebook account, but unless I look a lot like a silohuette with a question mark in it, I don't think I've uploaded a photo.

But as some of the old new media gets upgraded to new new media, I'm starting to realize there are some new rules in this strange new frontier of etiquette and plain old human relations.

For example, I've used Yahoo! mail since the dark ages of the mid-nineties. They now offer an instant messaging feature, which includes anyone who's listed in your address book to pop up on an IM list. I use IM all the time, but it's mostly with people I work with, and those I still wish I worked with. I don't even use it with very close friends, who are still more the e-mail or cell phone types.

So when I look at my list of available IM people, and see high school friends I haven't spoken to since, well, high school, I'm tempted to say "Hi!" but then stop myself when I suddenly feel like the creepy stalker spammer schmoo.

I love reconnecting with old friends and colleagues, but it was so much simpler when the way to do that was it was at the bar at a conference, or at the local Safeway or ShopRite. It just seemed more natural, and you always had some sort of out like, "Oh, look, I need a refill on my drink!" graceful exit.

Somehow, once I get past the initial, "Hi, X! How are you?" I feel like I'm in creepy stalker, now-what? territory.

But then again, maybe the chance to reconnect and just say hi is enough after all.