I was minding my own business doing a little yard work.

I'll start at the beginning, but I won't promise to go in order. Sorry.

Randy hates yard work. And we all cry, "Poor Randy." Unfortunately for him, when we moved to Naperville, I was pretty far along in my pregnancy and it was a pretty hot summer.  That meant very little yard work for this Momma.  Not because he didn't want me to do it, I think it was more along the lines of he didn't want anyone to see that he'd let me do it!  But anyway not the point...the point is that we agreed that I would eventually do the lion's share of the yard work.  This was absolutely fine by me! I came from a family where we fought over each other to cut the grass (I'm not really sure how my dad pulled this one off.)



My dad taught us kids how to make the diagonal lines and edge and sweep and trim and oh, it looked just like the mental picture we took when he showed us what the perfect yard looked like.  I lusted over a yard like that. I wanted a yard like that one day.  And moving from the city, I couldn't wait to own my own home, get into my own back yard, take off my shoes and walk around in my very own grass. I could just feel it between my toes.



Heaven.

Flash forward.

July 2014.  Not as easy as it looked.  Maybe after I had a couple of kids to brainwash into thinking it was a treat to maintain my yard for me or something, I just don't know how he did it, but I didn't give up.  This past summer as an Executive Director of a large Y and a new mom, I was going to garden and I was going to try and keep up the yard even if I had to beg and plead with Randy to help me do it.  I felt like I failure I just couldn't keep it up.  Could I pay someone? Where is that neighbor kid? Crap, he went back to school. Well, I guess this is why there are lawn services, I wonder how much they charge and then out of nowhere a little dad angel and dad devil sat on my shoulders taunting me about the upkeep and maintenance of my yard.  I knew that I couldn't do everything. But I knew that I could do somethings, so I went back to the basics.  Let's get the grass cut, let's edge and sweep and we can worry about the rest next year.  Problem was, we didn't even have an edger.  Off to Home Depot we ran...


We bought the very tool that led to the discovery of my illness and had absolutely no idea what we were doing.  I try to run that moment over and over and over through my mind.  Maybe everything would have been different if we hadn't bought it.  Maybe nothing would have ever happened.  I guess I'll never know.

We took our preferred edger home after getting edgy with each other  (sorry I just couldn't resist) over which one was better because neither of us had any idea at all.  I'm pretty sure it sat in the box for a month.  Randy took the first one we bought back because it wouldn't charge and then I think he used it once.  And then I used it once without any problems.

And then in late July my mom was visiting us to spend time with the baby. I decided to take her up on some babysitting and went outside to do work on the yard.  I cut the grass and then feeling proud grabbed the edger and made my way around the yard. I was stressed from work, tired and hadn't eaten much that day.  I was pretty exhausted.  I finished up and showered up.  I sat downstairs with my mom, Randy and the baby and my left arm began to shake. It wouldn't stop.

I said, "That's funny, the edger made my muscle spasm."  But it wouldn't stop.  It kept shaking and even holding it wouldn't make it stop.  My mom said, "Wouldn't the other arm shake too?"

That was the beginning for me, I went to bed that night not knowing that it would get worse. That my whole life was going to change.  That the shaking was a tremor of things to come.

I've decided it makes the most sense to blame my dad for his love of yards.