NOT ME!! I DIDN'T DO IT!!

"I am everywhere and I am nowhere."

                  

                


                  Someone eats all of the M&M's I bought to go in a recipe. Someone spills something on the carpet. Someone leaves the yogurt carton out. Someone rips moms notebook pages. Someone opens a soda and sips it a little at a time from the garage refridgerator.  Someone turns the answering machine off. Someone leaves the front door open. Someone leaves the lights on in the bathroom, or the water running. The list could keep going. When you have 4 kids, there is no end to this list. With one child they can only get away with so much. They can't very well blame dad for leaving Legos all over the floor. But with 4 kids, it could be anyone. 
                   The other day my hubby says to Girlie, " Don't kick the back of my seat." We were in the car.
                   Her response? "Hers did it!" Pointing at her Princess doll.
 Leave it to Girlie to find a new twist on that one. (yes she said Hers with an S. Don't know why she does that. A 3 year old quirk.)

                   Boy number  2 was asked to throw away a box of doughnuts that we had for 2 days and Dad and I had decided the kids had enough sugar.  There was a chocolate doughnut left in the box.
                  "Boyo 2, don't eat the doughnuts in the box. Just take them out to the big trash. They are old and we don't want you to eat them. Do you understand?"
                 "Yes."
                  2 minutes later Boyo number 2 came in the door with chocolate all over his face.
                "Why did you eat that doughnut?
                 "I didn't eat anything."
                Yes, it was a fib. And yes there were consequesnces. But, really we set him up to a certain degree. We didn't think about it but, really... How could he not eat it? At least that is what many would say. I think we are supposed to own up to what we do and exercise self control when ever possible.
             Sometimes these moments are comical like the cartoon above. But, the character traits that need to be worked on are glaring. The self control monster is a difficult one to tame for all of us. A piece of cake here. Over indulgence there. And owning up to something that we did is hard as well. Not just for a kid afraid of punishment but, for the adult afraid of the world knowing our shame. Do I really want everyone to know that I go into the pantry each day and eat a couple squares of chocolate? O.K. how about that maybe it isn't chocolate. Maybe someone wants to sneak a cigarette? Or something else. (I don't ). What about my vegetarian friend? What if she has a terrible craving for a double double with lots of onions from In-N-Out? Oh what if those couples in your bible study group knew that when you stepped on a Lego in the night you yelled out a stream of cuss words?
              O.K. you get the picture. What I am saying is that if I am going to be working on my own children's character flaws, it stinks but, I got to work on mine as well.
            So, here's to deciding which flaws to start with because, if you are anything like me-you've got a few. If you are unsure of your flaws, just ask your spouse or children. They'll know.
      By the way is that your 4th cup of Starbucks this week? And by the way it's monday.... hee hee.

In The Name Of Ecology????

We've come a long way, Baby!

 





  In the name of Ecology we are advised to do many things that require a change in how we do things. We are asked to carry reusable bags to the grocery, take a shorter shower, drive less, drive a smaller more gas efficient car, use fluorescent light bulbs, separate your trash, save and recycle trash. Use less water when doing anything. Going green is supposed to be better for our world, our environment. You know, save the whales, save the polar bears, etc. What I am not getting is at what point is the Going Green less healthy for us and causing more issues in the end. I love the whales and polar bears are awesome. But, when are we at the point that we are actually not doing better but, making ourselves sick with all of the "Green" ideas?
     Reusable grocery bags are the first thing I will address. If you use a canvas bag and are washing it each week, I guess you are saving on grocery bags. Which transfers to gas and weight to transport them. Also, the plastic bags filling the landfill or chocking the dolphins. I'm just wondering how much more water and detergent we would need to wash the canvas bags. If you use the cute recycled bags that all of the stores sell with their logos on them, they can't be washed and if you buy meat, it can drip into the bags and rot. Then the next time you use them you could be giving your family E-Coli. So, you saved a dolphin or some gas but, my family is deathly ill with E-Coli. Hmmmm Good trade off? I also, want to point out how we had all recycled these "terrible" throwaway bags. The paper ones are used from everything from trash bags, to carrying items places, even covering textbooks (to save them from being abused too much). The plastic ones are used by all families that own a dog and take it for a walk. We would otherwise have to buy special bags for picking up poop. Really? Seems ridiculous to me.

     Fluorescent lights instead of incandescent light bulbs? The new ones use less energy. And.... O.K. so less energy. That's good right? Well, I'm wondering if that is such a good thing. First, the new bulbs need to warm up. That means that when I walk into a room and flick on the light, it is dull for several minutes until it warms up. Really, if I'm honest that means that I end up leaving lights on more often because I want to see when I go into the room. Not in 10 minutes from now. Also, they just aren't as bright. I feel like I'm turning more lamps on to see as well as I did with the old bulbs. So, is that really using less energy? And is it good for our eyes? The biggest problem is the poisoning factor. The are full of mercury. I have 4 kids. The two oldest were jousting with pillows upstairs one morning (instead of doing chores) and broke one of the lamps and the bulb in it. They cleaned it up without telling me. Have you looked online as to how you are supposed to clean those things up??  I am so careful as to what my kids are exposed to. I have heard arguments on both sides of how dangerous the new bulbs are. But, let's go to the point that as moms we do all we can to keep our families healthy and by making a choice to Go Green, I am now exposing my kids to mercury. Awesome. Feeling great now.

    Use less water. UGH! This one is huge. Ready? Here we go.
 Here in California, we are very green conscious. We have many rules and laws we must follow that the rest of the country would scratch there head and say huh?
     One of those laws is not being allowed to wash down our yards or driveway. We can use a blower (unless you live in L.A.) Gas fumes and the incredible amount of noise is apparently O.K. Not to mention, the amount of dust that is flying. If you have allergies at all, any day your neighbor has a gardener is a bad allergy day. Heaven forbid if you have anyone in your family with asthma. You can use a broom and a dustpan. That works for the big stuff but, what about the dust? And grim? It's getting tracked into my house in my carpet. Great! Lucky me. This law is so that the run off (a mixture of chemicals from the lawns and the oil from cars in the gutters don't go into the ocean. Because not just all drains drain to the ocean, so does every gutter in Southern California).

     They have tried to monitor how much you are allowed to water your lawn as well. Encouraging you to put in fake grass. Problems with that? It gets very hot and you can't walk across the "grass" in the summer without burning your feet. How do you wash dog "stuff" off without using a hose and letting it run into the gutter? And my favorite, when it gets hot (and it does), it lets off a smell that is atrocious. And no one is sure (since it smells like chemicals) what it could do to your body as you breath the fumes of the hot melting man made product.

     One more forbidden is washing your own car in your driveway. Again, the run off is the issue to the city. You are to go to the car washes that have special reclaiming drains (question? What do they do with the reclaimed water? Reuse it?) If you must wash your own car, you should park it on the lawn. Unless you live in an HOA and that is forbidden. Oh and if you break a sprinkler while doing said activity and your sprinkler spurts up water and you don't stop it, you got it, you are committing an offense. Warranting a fine.

    All water conscious people have these next issues even if you don't live in California.
First, the "fabulous low flow toilets". Did I mention that I have 4 kids? Do I really need to elaborate on this? I didn't think so.
     Low flow showers- I have very thick hair. Those silly shower heads won't wash out the shampoo or conditioner out of my hair.

     And the big one that really chaps me about all of the "use less water" push.
Washing machines. This one is my soap box, so get ready for an ear full.
Again, I have 4 children. O.K. established, right?
Any mom or anyone that does any cleaning knows the best way to clean anything is with water. Water is THE most important element in cleaning....anything. Whether it's hands, floors, or clothes. Water is important.
I bought a washing machine recently. Well, actually I bought 3. Not at once. But, one after the other. I was pregnant with baby number 4 and my washing machine died. So off we went to find a washer. My first and most important criteria was having a soak cycle. Most of the new washers don't have soak cycles. And odd when I would tell the salesmen that was what I was looking for, several said, "Why would you need that?"
     I'm serious.
They said that.
My answer, "I have 4 kids, 2 dogs and a husband in construction. That is why."
     Blank stare.

     So I found one that had a soak cycle. It was the top of the line front load washer. Isn't that great?! The kids can help put laundry in. (See where I go?)
     Got home and tried the new washer. Put a cycle on soak. Well, soak meant there was a small amount of water that the sheets swished through every few minutes. A very small amount of water. Not nearly enough to soak out any dirt. And technically not soaking, swishing. That is not going to get chocolate milk out, I guarantee. I would go through more clothes that I would have to buy because I don't want to have my kids walking around looking like ragamuffins. Not to mention, it locked and wouldn't let me add detergent after it had "soaked" or swished. So, that would mean running it again through an entire cycle to wash after "soaking". Think about this- If I put bleach in and the detergent at the beginning it all drains out after the swishing (or at least that is what I thought. Stay tuned for that little surprising fact). The other thing we noticed was the distinct "not fresh" smell. I don't use smells in my clothes. No perfumes. No softeners. Nothing but, soap. Non-smell soap. When our clothes come out normally they don't smell. Not of perfume or deodorant, body odor or anything else. I was told later that I would have to run some special cleaner or bleach by itself through the machine periodically to get the stinking smell out. What? It's cleaning. I shouldn't have to get smells out, IF the machine was getting smells out. Right?

     I returned that washing machine for the top of the line top loader. It is made so people with back issues could do their laundry more painless. It also had 2 cool features; a see through top and no center post so you could do a HUGE load at a time. This was a fantastic feature. So in went the jeans. Got to check out the soak cycle. Again, not a soak at all. More of a spit and spin. Every few minutes it would spit some water at the jeans, and spin a bit. I started reading the book that came with it. I must be doing something wrong. This is NOT a soak cycle. While reading, I came across some disturbing information. First, it quoted the "wonderfully minimal amount of water", then the words that freaked me out! Using Recycled water! Yes, it really said that. Basically, a small amount of water was brought in to do the wash (whether you were soaking or not), then there is a holding pan under the machine and as the clothes went through the cycles and the water drained at the end of each cycle, the water was drained into the holding tank. Then, when the next cycle or rinse cycle began, the water from the holding tank was reused for this purpose. Are you feeling my horror yet? I read this over and over. There was a filter. It was a screen that the machine would filter the water through so no "debris" went through. Specifically mentioned small rocks or sand. I HAVE 4 KIDS AND 2 DOGS AND A HUSBAND IN CONSTRUCTION!! Are they kidding? How many things can you think of right now that wouldn't have been "filtered"? I thought of several. Urine. Vomit. Any number of construction chemicals or fuel. Shall I go on?
     I went to the store and discussed this with the salesman. He had no idea why it would be a problem until I mentioned that I had not only a new baby on the way but, a puppy that liked to eat the fruit growing in the yard. Poor little guy would then proceed to have the runs. New babies do many gross things such as pee, poop and spit up a lot! This completed disgusted this poor man and he asked no further questions and immediately found the machine I had been looking for from the beginning. And they had all avoided showing me because it used more water and was less expensive.  An old fashioned top loader, with a soak cycle and uses much water in each load and NOT recycle the water.
     Water is needed to clean. Using stronger cleaners isn't healthy. Using clean warm water is the best cleaner. Scrub with elbow grease and maybe add a bit of vinegar but, strong cleaners and no water isn't the solution to these issues. You will get sicker and sicker as you clog your liver full of strong cleaners. And then when we get sick we just use stronger medicines. Try using water and washing things thoroughly and maybe you wouldn't get sick as often.
     O.K. there is my soap box. I do love the earth and the animals in it. I believe that God intended for us to be good stewards of this beautiful planet. However, God created all of this for us to live in. So when you take things on faith that they are true and don't check for yourself you are not being a good steward of anything. Especially your own intelligence that God blessed you with. We are to check and research all that is presented before us. Even when someone says by using recycled bags we are saving umpteen amount of whales, check on that fact and all of the negatives as well. The negatives may not outweigh the positives. There may be other solutions yet thought of that would be much better. Instead of knee-jerk reaction to someone you think isn't being GREEN, stop and think why that person may not be doing things the same as everyone else. Yes, it could be laziness but, it could be any number of other reasons that they discovered in their own research.
     Our grandparents that lived through the great war are experts on real recycling. It isn't as fancy as turning in your yogurt cups to create new toothbrushes but it may actually take less energy and not have any other repercussions. Maybe your grandma would use the old yogurt cups for painting or carrying snacks in. But, since the yogurt company stopped making the lids to go with the cups now the cups could be used to separate nails and screws. There are many ways to Go GREEN. Use your head and research before you buy into the popular  belief on how to do it best.
     O.K. I'm done. Sorry if I offended but, hope I made you think. Gotta go the washing machine buzzed. I need to move my laundry.
   

What color are your eyes??

       I have brown eyes. Growing up I always felt like I didn't have as pretty of eyes as girls with blue eyes. My best friend had blue eyes. My mom told me she had hoped that when she married a man with blue eyes, her children would have blue eyes. Once in school while talking about discrimination, the teacher had told us about an experiment that another class had done where the brown eyed kids were treated different then the blue. Less important. I'm sure I remember that the class switched the preferred eye color to blue the next day. But, all I remember is that brown eyes must not be as special. I wasn't upset about it. Just hoped that I had a blue eyed child. It must be prettier. Right?
      I did have a blue eyed child. In fact, I had 4 of them. I am the only one in my family with brown eyes (well, the dog did. But, we had to give him away when we moved. So just me). Well, one of those beautiful blue eyed children was a girl. A precious, 4 year old, blue eyed, blond, curly haired darling. She is as beautiful inside as she is out. (O.K. I'm a bit biased). The other day she said to me, "Mommy, I love your chocolate eyes."
     WHAT?! 
     Chocolate?
     I had never heard them called that before?
     Chocolate is wonderful.
     I like chocolate. A LOT!
     A child's perspective is completely amazing and different then ours. I had never thought of my eyes as chocolate color. I love it. Aren't you jealous of my chocolate eyes? You only have blue. So sad for you!! HaHaHa. 
     So there you have it. 
     She sadly told me she wished she had my black straight hair too. Oh no little one. You are a dead ringer for Shirley Temple. You are one spectacular little girl. Love who God made you.
     

He's Proved Them Wrong

         So when my darling 2nd sons Birthday came in August, I sat down to write a sweet thing about him. It didn't exactly come out the way I thought it would. What came out was, His story. How he actually came into the world. So, I've had it sitting here on my computer for a month. I'm taking a big breath and pushing the post button. I wrote it for my family. For him and I and his daddy. Also, for the other kids for them to know how this all came about. I am also writing this to fulfill a promise I made to God 12 years ago. 
     So if this is too much information for you, I understand. Just step away and turn off my blog for today. If not here is a peek into our most difficult time in our lives as parents. (We actually had another very difficult time when baby number 3 came as well. Just different and maybe not as long suffering. But just as difficult. And quite painful physically and emotionally. Another story, another day.)



      My second boy. My marshmallow. My heartache. When my second son was born, it was much different then when my first was born. My first son was a big baby. 8 pounds 15 ounces. Almost 9 pounds. My second was huge. 9 pounds 10 ounces. And he was born completely natural. No drugs. No epidural. No nothing. Just womanly force.
     When he came out we were thrilled to have another boy. A big boy. But, from the first moments he was out there was a problem. They took him away. Quickly. I wasn't sure what was wrong. They started scurrying quickly around the room. Calling NICU Dr.'s and nurses. There was oxygen and much nervousness around him. In the meantime, I had just delivered a big baby and there was repair to do. And bleeding. Much bleeding. It was a scary and very unnerving time.
     I would see my baby for short periods of time and then they would come and whisk him away. I wasn't sure why. They kept giving us odd answers. Something to do with blood sugar. Then we had the visit from the doctor from the NICU. Not a regular pediatrician. Some kind of surgeon. No bedside manner. We were trying to understand what they were saying to us. Something wasn't right. His blood sugars... I must of had done something... You need to let us do things to take care... Go home... Without your baby.... Let us deal with this...
     " I don't understand. Dr. tell me what is the worst case scenario."-Me
     "He could die."-Dr.
     "No. That isn't the worst case. Then he would go to heaven to be with God. The worst would be if he had to live in pain and have no real life here. Is that possible?"-Me
     Dr. shook his head in disbelief and walked out.

     This was the first week of our babies life. I forgot the part where I almost bled to death. I passed out visiting my baby from the amount of blood and stuff coming out of me, and the overwhelming feeling of failure I had. So bad that I finally allowed them to give me a sleeping pill and I didn't tell them for the first time, how sensitive I am to drugs and took it. I heard nurses talking outside of my room about me and my baby and how bad it was. I was so low. So... I don't think there is a word for what I felt.

     He was wanted. He was loved. He was very ill. I went home without my baby. The thoughtless volunteer worker they had wheel me down to the car asked where my baby was. I wanted to kick her. I wanted to.... Die...I had to have broken him some how. I didn't know how. I just knew that he was in me and I did something to hurt him.

     The very long week after with me at home crept by. Hour by hour we would call to check on him. I woke up to a raging fever. 105. I was freezing. I couldn't stand up. I had a kidney infection. Terrible. I had allowed them to put a catheter in because I didn't have any fight in me at the hospital and I let them do it to shut them up. It had made me sick. Big surprise.

     The decision was made for me to move into the hospital to care for my new baby. I hated the idea. I didn't want to leave my 3 year old. We hadn't been apart more then an hour or two ever. Now I'm leaving him. I didn't know what to do though. The things they were telling us on the phone and when we visited that was going on with our little darling was full of incompetence. I couldn't believe the incompetence. In the NICU. And he was already sick. They were going to kill him. Literally.

     I moved in. The Doctors weren't thrilled. The nurses weren't sure what I was going to do all day. Well, I won half of the doctors and nurses over to trust me. And the other hated that I was in their space. I learned all that I could about what my darling had. Hyper Insulinism was the name then. Not common. Not much known about it. My sweet friend researched the Internet and fed us as much info as she could find. She researched doctors and hospitals. All the while I learned many hospital procedures. I learned how to give my baby shots. I learned to dress his little incisions. I took his vitals. I changed his bed linens that I brought from home. I nursed him. and nursed him. Took his blood sugars every 20 minutes sometimes and nursed him. Fought with young doctors that were doing things by the books and wanted me to be out of the picture so they could do what ever they thought they would try next without running it by me first.

     I am grateful and horrified by all that went on there. Strange statement, I know. But, it is so true. We were there for Almost 2 months. Living like that. I hardly slept because I had to protect him from the nurses doing stuff that wasn't necessary or doing it roughly. Not all of the nurses were bad. but, I soon realized that doctors and nurses are people. Just like everyone else. They have husbands, and rowdy teens and problems that they deal with while trying to make life and death decisions everyday. I would hear all of this reality all too clear while I lived there. As one nurse was assigned to us for her 12 hour shift, I heard all about her teen that was totally out of control and had run away. Yes, run away. And here she was trying to get through her shift worried about where her child was. While all of this is going on and she is quite distraught, she trips on baby boys IV that had to be surgically put in and had been sewn in place. Really. I could have scratched her eyes out, as my child howled in pain. But, how could I. Her child was lost. I had mine. He was being tortured before my eyes, on a daily basis. But, I had him.

     I had read my bible much as a child. I knew my bible stories. I remember God talking to all of those people right out loud. But, I never heard him myself. I had been taught God could do anything. He just doesn't. Only at Pentecost did they have gifts. Only in the bible was there miracles like that. And God never talks out loud. And if he does, you are crazy. One night, I had a nurse I thought I could trust. She was convincing. My baby didn't get formula after the first week. It made him sick. And he had so much to endure, the least I could do was breast feed him. He had to be on a fast for so many hours for so many tests (and many more to come) that I believed the least I could do was breast feed him. He was my baby, I needed to breast feed him. See a pattern? Yea, they did too. This nurse was on her 12 hour shift and baby fell asleep. I told her I was going to go lay down and to call if he woke up. She assured me she would. Well, I poured into the bed in the tiny janitor closet of a room that was the sleep room. On the little twin bed. I didn't change my clothes or even put on the blanket.
     That is when I heard it. A voice very big tells me, "Get up right now. He needs you." I feel myself lifted off of the bed and I wake up the rest of the way as I open the NICU door. Just in time to see this nurse putting a bottle into my babies mouth. The other nurses were apparently discussing the situation and telling her to call me. She was determined not to. I needed sleep she said. The nurses parted like the Red Sea when they saw me. Backing slowly away from her and me. (They had obviously remembered the night I grabbed the male nurse by the scrubs and hollered in his face to get me a doctor now! Somehow he was taller then me, but I was lifting him. ) The nurses face went white. All of the blood drained very quickly from it. And she said, "How did you know?"
I said, " HE told me. " She must have known what I meant (although I wasn't sure yet about the whole thing) because she handed me my baby and apologized quickly. I snapped that now I couldn't trust her and that meant that I couldn't sleep for her whole shift. Yes, I had heard God. Loud. In my head. And he lifted me to my feet.

     The amount of trauma that baby boy and I endured was more then I could type in one place. It would fill a book and although many highs and moments God himself being present, it would be a very stressful book, I'm sure. Recounting this 13 years later is stressful. I still get sick to my stomach when I think about or talk about parts of the long ordeal. There were so many moments that refined me and made me a new woman. For good or bad, I came out of the situation completely changed.

     He almost died several times. I was told he would probably be severely brain damaged. Maybe not even be able to feed himself. I prayed at that moment. I prayed every moment. Sometimes my prayers were not for what you would think. Some of my prayers, I am ashamed of now. Grateful that the Lord knows best and does what He knows is best. I wanted to quite so many times.

     We went home finally. In October (he was born in the first week of August). I had to fight for it. I had to work hard but, they were finally going to release him to us. The nightmare just continued.

     We had to give him medicine to control his blood sugars every few hours. I had to feed him no further apart then every 2 hours and many times it was as often as every 20 minutes. I was living on 4 hours accumulated sleep a day. Not in one stretch mind you, in short increments. Small naps. snippets of time. Yet, I had to feed and care for my 3 year old and this little bundle that was starving all the time. I had to give him a shot every 4 hours. It was awful. One time as he got stronger, I had to ask my 3 year old to hold the babies arm so I can give him his shot. I cried for hours after that, I knew I was ruining my son. No 3 year old should have to do that.

     We went on like that for awhile. A week maybe 2. I'm not sure. It's all a blurr. but, then his sugar dropped. We had just gone and had an interview with a doctor that was way over booked but he said he'd take us. I was thrilled when the first thing he told me was to put that baby to the breast as often as he wanted. I breathed a sigh of relief right there. The other doctors fought me. They wanted me to formula feed and bottle feed. They even made me feed him a bottle full of sugar water before every feeding. Of course that would defeat breast feeding. I finally got pushed into a corner. I found a phone number of the local Le Leche league and called them. They told me to tell the NICU Doctors that I had talked to them and that they could have the 6 o'clock news there if they didn't back off. Funny. They backed off. Said bad things about me. But, backed off. I wasn't there to make friends. I was there to protect my child. I was fine with that. Like a mama bear. To the end!

     So we had just had the interview with the new doctor and the baby lost his sugars. The meds didn't work. We had to rush him back to the hospital. Really?? I didn't want to but, knew there was just cause. As I am having to squirt this stuff in his little mouth that can only be described as cake frosting. It was disgusting. That is when the seizures started. He had a 20 minute Grand Mal Seizure. It was terrible. He was looking at me the whole time. The doctor yelled at the nurses to get out of my way so maybe I could bring him back by talking to him. I had never seen a seizure before. Of course I had a lot of firsts that aren't wonderful or celebrated there in those hospitals. And definitely not something you would find in anyone's baby book.

     After a week or so at the PICU now we went home. It seemed like eternity. We were only home a matter of a day or so. We got an opportunity to go to Philadelphia to be put through a trial they were doing on what he had. We were on the next flight. This hospital was scary. It was huge. My husband and 3 year old stayed at an Embassy Suites about a mile or so away. We went through horrible trials and tests. We met others that had babies with the same thing. Many of them way worse. Seizures all the time. Severe damage done to their brains. And so much more. This was a teaching hospital so the different cases there were pretty extreme. Deformities. Illness. etc. My baby looked perfect. I was so blessed. The bizarre things that happened there and we had to endure again were shocking. You could not imagine and I couldn't make up the stuff it was so bad. I had a neurologist try to kiss me. yes really. I have a sick baby in the bed. He is supposed to be reading the tests and he goes in for one. I backed up and kept going. Then wanna bet, he did it again. He asked my husband if he could show me something, my husband left and this creep goes in for another try. Like I accidentally moved the first time?! CREEP!

     Then they surgically insert a special IV into his leg using an x-ray and that night he almost bled to death. There wasn't enough doctors on call so I literally had to hold strong, hard pressure on the bleeding wound for 8 hours before I could get help. He would have bled to death if I had slept somewhere else like the other moms did. Then my baby gets staff infection. The doctor on call doesn't think anything is wrong so that night he is so sick. I have to get a resident doctor to help me squeeze the stuff out of his poor little leg. Green, smelly, oozy stuff. The resident was gagging. He couldn't handle it. I told him I can do this. You can take a breath and step back. I'm a mama and this is my child. This is just a couple of the things that happened. And the others are just as bad. I'm not just picking the worst stories, just the more shocking ones that stick so vividly in my mind. They were all just as bad.

     They tell us to go home they can't help us. God steps in and we can't go home. It is Thanksgiving day. Well, good thing we didn't go home. His medicine stops working. Just like that. No warning. Just stopped responding to it.

     They go in for a blind surgery to decide what to do. I have a vision. I can't explain it. As the doctor is telling me what they will do and showing me a picture of the pancreas, I stop him and tell him the problem is "there". I point at a spot on the picture. I beg him not to "chunk out the pancreas" and just go to that spot. They think I'm crazy. They offer me sleeping pills because I must be delusional. They tell me not to pray for a miracle cure. Pray for diabetes. That is probably the best they can do.

     I pace and pray and read my bible. Random passages. I walk some more and sit. 8 hours of surgery. It was so long.

     They found it. The one cell doing all of the damage. It was right where I had said. The surgeon said that he had gotten to the point in the pancreas where he was going to "chunk out the rest " of the pancreas and he said he heard my voice in his head. He said he couldn't have lived with himself if he didn't just look. And there it was. Baby boy had 85% of his pancreas removed. But, he is perfect now. They said it is possible that as he grows, it would rejuvenate.

     That was the most horrible time in my life. The worst thing I have had to endure. The hottest fire God has ever put me through. But, Even as awful as it was, I felt God like I had never felt him. He was close to me. He talked to me. He lifted me.

     So baby number 2 had come in with the much trauma. And he was nothing like the first baby. Still isn't like his brother. I had to fight for his life. I had to fight for my own life. I learned what the scripture means about praying without ceasing. I Thessalonians 5:17. I don't think I ever stopped praying to God. It was all one big prayer. So much crying out. So much just crying. I wanted to quit. I wanted to run away. But, I couldn't. He was my baby.

     That little baby, just had his 12th Birthday. He is perfect. He is whole. God blessed me with the miracle cure or healing that the doctors told me not to pray for. Well, I'm glad I didn't listen. I'm glad that by that point I had heard God enough and felt his presence that I had confidence that He could heal him. And guide the surgeons hand. Also, whisper my voice in his ear to do what his surgeons logical brain told him not to.

     I have been blessed immensely with this child. I love him with the awe that he was touched by God. And because of him, so was I. Happy Birthday big guy.

High School and Potty Training

     My biggest fears about parenting and homeschooling are potty training and high school transcripts.

Really.

     When my husband and I discussed having children, potty training was the biggest fear I had. I figured the rest would work itself out. I had been to school for teaching kids. I knew what to do (yea, right.). But, I also, had a healthy fear of what those little monsters precious children were capable of.
I had seen horror in bathrooms from power hungry children. I had seen parents normally so controlled and put together, crumble into begging, whining adults trying to coax their little darlings into the bathroom.  No, I didn't relish the idea of training my child to do that. Not to mention the disgust of the "not making it" moments. I had many of them through my preschool teaching time and even more on this side of the parenting spectrum. Now it seems a little funny all of those days and moments spent in the bathroom. But, it still sends chills up my back to see a little one welding the power of the toilet over his parents.
     You see, all of that schooling to get my Early Education-education taught me a few things. But one of the scariest is the two places that all toddlers have control, is in regards to food and the bathroom.
And many figure out just how powerless their parents are in these two areas pretty quick. And I dare say, it amuses them.
     I made it (mostly) through the potty training stage. (I do have one that has to sleep with a pair of rubber pants at night).
     So here is the next problem. High School transcripts. When we decided to homeschool I actually remember saying I wasn't excited about high school and that cutting up a piglet fetus on my dining room table was just gross. I have truly been worrying over this since my oldest was in about 4th grade. I know, with so much time, you would have thought that I would have it buttoned up what to do and how to do it. No. I actually went to many meetings of some of our veteran moms talking about how to do just that. Navigate through the high school curriculum and transcripts. I would get overwhelmed and shut down. It was like when my algebra teacher (he was SO cute) would try to teach me how to do a particular problem and I'd phase out. I'd focus on his cologne or the really nice hair he had (O.K. Cut me some slack. He had been some rad (80's word) model before he taught Algebra to high school kids). Or if it were really bad, I'd go to the Peanuts. You know. That moment in the Charlie Brown cartoons when the teacher would talk. Whaa Whaaa whaaa whaaa. That is it. All that went into my ears.




So here I am on the cusp of my oldest child's Freshman year and I all can hear is Wah wah wah.

O.K. I might have gotten away with it in high school (sorta). But, I'm not going to get away with it now. This is my son's future. I have to put on my big girl panties and just buckle down and do it!!

     Wish me luck. Or as my son #3 says, "Wish me blessings. God doesn't do luck." And I'll go dust off that book about high school courses of study and transcripts I bought about 5 years ago and couldn't bring myself to actually read, and study it intensely now.

Baby Boy Driving.

     He was perfect. I had dreamed of him my whole life. And he was just the way I had dreamed. Soft skin, beautiful blue eyes, cute little nose, sweet little lips.
My first child. My son. My precious little darling. I loved him so much that it actually, physically hurt me. I didn't know that I could live that much. My heart swelled. It was huge with love for him.
     He grew. He loved me back. He would grab my hand. He'd cuddle up next to me to watch his favorite show. When we were apart, he'd squeal, and ran to me, so excited to see me
And the best part? Sometimes when I was really blessed, he'd look at me, and say, "Mommy, I love you."
     What more would any mom want? Yes I was smitten by my firstborn son.
Well, he's growing up. He has hit many milestones. One by one. I celebrated each one. His Birthday came yesterday. He turned 15. I thought that was a big deal. Then today happened.
Today my oldest son was learning to drive. He and my husband got in the 1972 Jeep Commando that my husband restored. The thing is super hard to drive. It's a stick shift. No power anything. Not brakes, steering. And certainly not windows. My husband says if he can drive that he can drive anything.
     So, there we go. My baby boy driving. He was so intense. Very focused. I was so proud. And misty all at once. He drove by our house about 5 times.
     Well, it's happening. He's growing up. I'm so happy he's growing up.   Also very proud. But, I'll tell you the truth. It is happening. Going quickly are the days when I am his favorite person in his life. That is good. But still pulls at a moms heart strings. Especially when it is the first born. First there will be driving, then college classes, his job and a woman. Not any woman. THE woman. The woman that will take my place. Is it weird that I see my son driving and I go to the woman that will hold my sons heart??
     I'm so excited for those days to come. I am nostalgic for the cuddle time on the couch and the little boy squealing that I'm home. So here I am. Quite aware that I am watching the end of my little boys mother worship. Have you been here? How am I supposed to feel?

Do You Want To Be Indy?

     Do you have a dream? A secret adventure that you wish you could do? That you wish you had the courage and the money to make happen? Maybe it isn't the money, maybe you don't think that you have the ability to actually do it. Maybe you think it wouldn't work out the way you have it pictured in your mind.
     What is it? A book you want to write? A place you want to go? A business you want to start? A place you want to live? I actually have a dream that is all of these.
      I am stuck in the wondering and dreaming of it. We have almost done it a couple of times. We are on the cusp of taking the plunge again. But, it is scary. I know, fear is from the devil. But, let's face it; my crystal ball doesn't work and I really don't know if I'd fall flat on my face. And it isn't just me. It is my whole family.
     So, do we sit here doing the same thing and keep spinning our wheels not getting anywhere? A virtual hamster wheel? Don't get me wrong. I live in a beautiful beach town with fantastic weather. But, I'm really starting to think we could do so much more.
     Embarrassed to say that I have started my book several times. Actually, more then one. The notes are all still here. I keep thinking, what if I write it and the only ones that read it are family. And they make fun. Silly, I know. I need to take that step. The first step.
     I've always wanted to live with a garden (big) and sell the extras. Maybe start a Christmas tree farm and Pumpkin patch with all of the excitement that goes with it for those months that you sell them. With  bounce houses and carnival type booths. I've always thought it would be fun to sell homemade items. Like soap, scrubs, teas (that you grow and dry yourself), candles, and other items.
     I have so many dreams and hopes. I just don't know if we have the ability to suck it up and jump.

     Have you ever seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade? The part where he steps onto the invisible bridge? It is incredible and such a parallel to life. Especially as Christians and having faith that God has it under control. When it looks impossible is when we are supposed to have the faith to step out there.

Indy arrives at a 

test of faith. To reach the chamber that houses the grail, he 

must first cross to the other side of a 30 - foot cavern. There is no 

bridge — at least no visible bridge. To step out is to literally take 

a leap of faith. And faith goes against everything he stands for 

as a rational, intellectual college professor. 

You can't see the bridge. You only know that you have to try it. Have faith that God will put out his hands and hold you up.
     These dreams of mine have been in my head since my husband and I got married. Including having a cow or some chickens. I know many will think that we are crazy. I really have some even bigger dreams that go with all of this. But, I have to keep some to myself.

Well, we will continue to pray for God's direction and see if we really have the faith to step out onto that empty space in front of us....



So the question is; if we step, will the bridge be there?

And, do we have the faith and the courage to step out there?