Friday, February 21, 2014

It's Not Watergate; But It's My Gate

I've been bombarded. We just received word that our patent is through the first hurdle and it has now been published. I now feel completely under the gun to get the website running, and our SBIR grant application submitted before the April 5 deadline. I ran away yesterday in an effort to solely focus on the task at hand. I left the kids, the dog, and Doc H for a week. Thank God for my mother who is shuttling the younger kids around for me. I left the kids with enough money to order pizza every night for dinner in case Doc H can't leave the hospital in time to get dinner for them.

I drove to our vacation home, where I was greeted at the gate by the painter. He explained the painting process to me and I learned the gate was to be finished in a patina I was not made privy to. So I call Doc H. He's in surgery. Wonderful. Finally talk to him at 10pm (he was still in the hospital), and we get into a raging argument over the stupid gate. I know (despite the fact that I'm going to try to love it) I'm going to hate the gate. I swear if Doc H reaches the pearly gates before me, the first thing I'm doing is pulling that gate off the hinges! {Sorry, Honey, but that's a truth.}

So, to I did my best to relax, by taking a soak in the hot tub and drinking an awfully pretty martini with my dinner. 

Now, the painters are back. Do I go out and stir the pot with the painter and tell him how I would like things done? Or should I just let it be? Is a gate simply worth the trouble and upheaval? It's just a gate, right? So why does it matter so much to me?

Last night before I went to bed, Doc H told me I need to get over it. I know what he was referring to... I need to get used to these changes in our life brought about by the acquisition of the first start up. We are no longer the kids who grew up in modest, middle class homes. We are adults who have experienced some great success. I need to learn how to embrace our success and not be embarrassed by it. 

It's just a gate. It's just a gate. It's just a gate.


  1. Perhaps one day you won't even notice the gate it will just blend in to the landscape. I am so happy for you Emma! I know what your husband does every day is important but his impact can now reach even more people. It is inspiring to think we can all identify a need and create a way to fill it.

    1. It is amazing to think that his little idea is now in hospitals all over the nation. :) Hopefully, our current start-up will enjoy the same sort of success.

  2. The gate can never be as bad as the carpet in my family's first rental when we moved overseas. We got to the top of the stairs and stood dumbfounded. The hall had an olive green pattern (sort of like tiles, but carpet). The door on the left, a bedroom had a similar sort of tile pattern to its carpet but it was turquoise. The bathroom to the right had olive green fixtures, which went beautifully with the hall carpet. However... The carpet in the bathroom was the same as the bedroom with the door right in front of us. It was a swirling shag excresence of pink and orange, which Austin Powers would have loved.

    By the time my grandmother visited us a year later, we had stopped seeing it, and only remembered how awful it was when she shrieked.

    Seriously, you may not care for the gate, but it can't possibly make passing strangers turn pale and shriek or burst into gales of laughter.

  3. I love reading your gate saga! In the end it is just a gate, but I think it symbolizes a lot more for you - good you are working through it! Keep going! Thanks for stopping by Ray Doc Wife - means a lot to me!


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