Is there such a thing as too much Type A?

My father would say no but I used to have a friend who would say, "Making all these plans gives me anxiety."  Well ya know what, NOT making plans gives me anxiety.

I just say no to flying by the seat of my pants.



It's all about the details!  So where do you fall on the Type A Spectrum?

Funtinerary 

I'm headed to Florida.  Every time I go on vacation, I make a "Funtinerary."  I wrote this out and sent it to my family.  Tom calls, "Absolutely not.  Katie, take the dates off.  We need a list of ideas."  I reluctantly removed the dates dictating what we would do each day.  "Also, no food ideas."  I did not remove the food ideas.  "Don't get crazy Tom."



Housesitting Rules 

As I talked to my friend on the phone and told her I wrote a page and a half of directions for the girl who is watching my dog, she surprised.  Not surprised, per se , because she's "used to me" but she made innuendos that what I was doing what abnormal.

"What did you put on the directions besides feed the dog?" she actually wondered aloud, "Please read them to me right now," and as I read them to her, she was just laughing at me.

Too much?


God help me if I ever leave my child with anyone.

The world takes all kinds.  Currently looking for the Type B to my Type A...not too Type B.

When I was 17 years old I wrote a paper for a psychology class I took in high school about Euthanasia.  At that time I presented both sides of the topic but, ultimately, supported Dr. Kevorkian.

It's a hot topic.  Brittany Maynard.  It's a controversial topic but hey, we (I'm not sure who "we" is other than me) never shy away from controversy here.  So, let's talk about it.

Today, I feel the same...multiplied by a thousand.  I fully support Brittany Maynard.  I hope this legislation is passed in more states for the following reasons...

1.  It's Not Suicide
Suicide is someone who is making the choice to end his or her life.  People whose death is imminent are not CHOOSING to die.  Don't tell me that people at the end stages of brain cancer should "wait for a miracle."  That's ridiculous.  I mean, really, how many doctors and nurses would tell you that those people on their deathbeds got up and went home and lived full lives by some miracle.  I'm pretty sure the cases are almost zero.


2.  For the Loved Ones 
Have you ever watched someone die?  No?  It's the worst thing you can imagine.

As the Hospice Nurse sat us down and said, "If she starts to bleed out at any point, just start pumping her full of morphine," I replied to the very Catholic woman, "Are you fucking kidding?  Could that happen?"  She told us it was unlikely and thank God it didn't happen.

In fact, in the grand scheme of things, her death process was "easy."  I, obviously, say that dripping with sarcasm because it was a version of Hell I hope I never experience again but I know people who had it worse.  The loved ones of people with brain cancer, for instance.  That's an ugly one.

But ours was no walk in the park, that's for sure. Watching someone who was once the most vibrant person in your world lose all her muscle tone, have to be carried, and have moments where she would not remember the name of her own daughter is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.

There is nothing was worse than the sound of death knocking at the door and I mean the actual sound.  Death rattle is what they call it.  You can Google that one.  It would be chilling to watch on television but when it's your own kin, it's worse-if there is a worse.  It took me a lot of years to get that sound out of my head and I'd put money on the fact that there are members of my immediate family who can still hear it.

So, for the people who watch death, I support euthanasia.
For my father, whose final memories of his wife are not peaceful, but ugly.
For myself and my brother, who, even in our twenties were way too young to have to remember their mom is such an awful state.
For the constant memories that took years to go out of our heads, I support Euthanasia.


3.  For God
"God will decide the right time to die." To me, this argument holds no water.  If people truly believed that, then they would not accept emergency medical attention to save lives.  God is not medically intervening there, doctors are.

God gives us lots of decision making power, in all things.  This is one of them.
God has a plan.  I believe that.  However, how do you know THIS is not God's Plan for that person?


4.  For Life
Something I can't stand is trying to chemo the fuck out of people who are dying.  They are dying.  Let them live life to the absolute fullest, feeling great, and then let them die...gracefully, in whatever way they choose.


5.  For the Patients
When should they get a say?  My mother was a good Catholic woman who may not have chosen that option, given the choice, but SHE should get to choose.  Her body.  Her imminent death.  Her decision.

And as with most things...politics and such, I live somewhere in the middle.
I can see the other side.  I have read your thoughts and I understand your words but I disagree.

Where do you stand?  Don't worry, we can still be friends...if you're cool with it ;)

My nephew is smart.
Not a little bit smart, freakin brilliant.


I wouldn't be surprised if he made it into MENSA.  Do you "make it" into MENSA?  Is it even called MENSA?  Those super smart people?
Obviously, he doesn't take after his aunt in intelligence ;) 

His parents would never mention it because they would sound like they were bragging but I don't give a !@#$.  I'll mention it.
Real mature Katie. 

I said it when he was so small..."This kid is WAY beyond his years with his knowledge."  Tom and I argue over how he got that smart.  He thinks he was born that way.  I think it's because he was read to every single day since the day he was born.  Who's right?
Obviously you are Katie.  You're always right.  
Thanks Blog Crew, I agree!

Discussing which planets we could go to and not got to based on their temperature when he was two years old.
Reading that same year
Chapter books starting in Kindergarten
Flying through at least a book a day today...the boy is a literary genius.


Last week we decided to have a Skype Book Club.

I said, "What book should we read?"
"Um, how bout Captain Underpants Number 11?"
"Um, how bout no?  Can we think of a different book?
"Why," he says obviously annoyed that I don't value his favorite books.
"Well, Philip, I just am not sure I'll understand #11 if I haven't read 1-10.  Besides, perhaps we can push your reading a bit since you read Captain Underpants in a day.  I heard of a book called How to Ear Fried Worms.  What about that?"

Dad (Tom) pipes in, "What?! That sounds like a great book!  I wanna read that!"
(Silent high five to Dad for giving his stamp of approval)

So, it was settled.  We were reading How to Eat Fried Worms.

Amazon Prime = My best friend.
Book is there in 2 days, 1st Book Club Meeting 2 days later.

I wish I could have taken a picture of him when he Skyped me.
There he is, laying on the ground with his face in his hands, and a giant smile full of those 6 year old teeth that are still a bit too big for his mouth-the cutest thing ever.


"Aunt Katie, I CAN'T BELIEVE HE ATE A NIGHT CRAWLER!  That's disgusting and WHY was he dancing around all crazy like he really liked them?!"

We continue with our "meeting," with my mouth agape because I can't even process the fact that this first grader is comprehending and responding to this book and his excitement level is contagious...and 3 minutes later we finish up.

Lessons from Book Club Meeting #1:
That boy is so smart.

Our next push is the nuances of language (ie: Billy coaxed his dogs into the igloo. <---- "What do you think this sentences means Philip?"  He says, "I have no idea."  "Do you really think they live in a real igloo?"  "Yes, I do."  So...we will work on that part.

He's still only 6 so our "meetings" only last 3 minutes max.

Forever and ever I will have a very special bond with this boy.  I don't know what it is but just thinking about him brings tears to my eyes.


Hashtag: A love like that
Hashtag: Be still my swollen heart