Similarities between my 4 year old daughter and my 88 year old Grandma

     As we have moved into my grandma's home with all my children, I am noticing how much my grandma 88 years old and my 4 year old daughter are alike. 

     I will begin to list these things as I can below. I know there are lessons to learn from these. Maybe they have the key to joyful living. 

1) Ice Cream is the best food group. 

2) anytime is a good time to swing. 

3) Shirley Temple movies are funny. 

4) Everyone should have a lay down in the afternoon. 

5) Sometimes you should skip dinner to eat ice cream. 

6) Dirt is just dirt. It doesn't hurt. 

7) Lightening bugs are awesome. 

8) Being barefoot feels good. 

9) Horses are beautiful. 

10) Dolls are fun. 

11) Birds, rabbits, squirrels and any other creature that run around the lawn are amazing and fun to chase (my daughter chases while Grandma cheers her on). 

12) They both need help out of the car. 

13) They both love sparkly things. 

14) Both Love flowers. 

15) Both get excited about baby birds and nests. 

16) Both like to count how many birds are on the lawn. 

17) Both laugh at my husbands silly jokes with the same enthusiasm. 

18) Both like baths. 

19) Both love hugs. 

20) Did I mention the commonality of their love for ice cream?

21) don't get in a hurry to go places. Take your time. Others will wait for you. 

This isn't an exhaustive list but, a good thing to pay attention to. I'm saying I think the oldest and the youngest generation are smarter then those that make up the rest of the countries age groups. We think we are so smart, working and being efficient. Look at Grandma and my girlie. Stop, look at the flowers and how the caterpillar is crawling on the leaf. Stop and watch the robin build its nest. There is no hurry. 

Life I too short not to enjoy each minute and eat as much ice cream as you can. 

     So there it is. Life's short. wake up and and have dessert. 

Don't make a wrong turn in Albuquerque!

     So, we are on the road. The trailer with all of our wordly possessions left a few days ago. The day that we got packed up was a big one. We knew some things wouldn't fit but we didn't know that much wouldn't go in. Whatever we couldn't pack in the trailer or car was given to one of Greg's employees that could use it. That made me feel better about leaving it behind. But, I was a little sad about some of it. My bookcases were left. That is big since I have many books. The big boys beds were left. I guess that's O.K. Since they probably need bigger beds anyway.  Various other items were left. But the one that choked me up a bit was the glider chair and foot stool that I had nursed all 4 of my children in. That was hard. Silly I know. It's just a chair. And a faded, showing its age one at that. I knew it had to he left but I did tear up a bit.
I remember sitting in that chair at 2:00 am nursing my oldest that is now almost 16, looking out the window. It was so calm and peaceful at that time of the morning. No one was out on the street. It felt like only I and my little guy were awake. I remember thinking that I would never forget that moment. And I haven't. My husband felt badly later when he realized how sad it made me. But, it was my contribution to the move. We all gave up things to do this.
     We shipped my husbands car. Then we have hooked the old 1972 electric blue, Jeep Commando behind my forest green Excursion. We are a sight to see going down the road. So far we have stayed in a hotel in town there where we grew up, for a few nights just to get the house cleaned up an do a couple of appointments before we left. Then we headed out. It was a Thursday morning. There were so many people to say good bye to that it just wasn't possible to see everyone. There were several that weren't happy with us for leaving without a personal good bye. But I hope they know we love them no less. We were really going through so much. Not only an upheaval of our families live but, a complete change of our lives. Where we live, what we do, how we do everything will be different.
Have you ever imagined what your life would look like, and feel like, if you picked up and moved to a totally different area of the country? Or world?? My cousin said something the other day that struck me hard. I had posted on FaceBook that I was bummed that it was the last night in my own bed for a long time and I couldn't sleep. She said it was perfectly understandable since it was the last night before we were about to completely change our lives. I hadn't thought about it that way. She was right. And I'm grateful she said it. It gave such a better perspective as to why I was feeling the way I was.
So here we are; on the I-40 going east. East towards our new lives. We've stopped in Kingman, AZ. It was nice. The first day wasn't so bad. I was worried a little. 2 adults and 4 kids crammed in the car with mounds of other various things for hours- for days on end, sounded awfully scary. But my kids are doing great. Here we are the end of day 3 and everyone is being wonderful. Minus the fragrance that is lingering every now and then from the backseat that has us all gagging today. Of course everyone blamed everyone else. That went on for hours. Windows up, windows down.
So a couple more days and we should be at Grandma's. This trip is one I don't think my family will forget soon.

I will write more later. But for tonight, I want a shower.

It's almost time to GO!!!!!

     Well, we are doing it! It's almost time! It's almost here!
We are moving to the farm! To the south! South Tennessee that is. We are leaving behind out beach and trading it in for a pasture. Yes, we are a little crazy.

For so long we have been in a waiting pattern. (I used to be a flight attendant. Forgive the illustration.) We have been circling and waiting for the Control Tower to tell us what to do. Well, we have gotten the call and we're going in for a landing.

     I am anxious to put in a garden. I can't wait to pick my own tomatoes, green beans, squash, and melons. I'm sure we will have so much more. What a blessing to grow and cook and even can my own food for my family. God is amazing how we can do that. Eventually we would love to have cattle to have our own meat and maybe even (sorry Aunt Freda) chickens. To have fresh eggs each day is an amazing idea. It would be great to be able to find someone that has a milk cow to actually get some fresh milk. Can you tell I'm excited?


   

     We will be moving in with my grandma. Her place will be such a change from where we are now. There is plenty of room for the kids to be able to spread out. Have some space. The kids can actually do their school work and not interrupt each other all day. Also, they can go outside and RUN! That is a blessing all by itself. They big boys are looking forward to being able to shoot their BB guns, build forts or catapults, and having a big room to spread out in. (Sensing a pattern?)

     We spend so much of our time trying to keep things mellow. Slow and intentional. It is hard to keep that pace where we live. We are definitely a bit strange by the standards of where we live now. The town we are moving to is small and quaint. The town square looks a bit like Mayberry. The closest Trader Joe's or Target is 90 miles away. At first that scared me that everything was so far away. Now, I'm thinking of all of the wonderful ways to slow down and not need so much from stores like these.  With Amazon Prime I can order just about anything we really need and save time, money, gas, etc. Also, we won't be making so many last minute items that get thrown in the cart.

     We have so many things we will miss. Family, friends, conveniences, our homeschool group, and so much more (In N' Out, Wahoo's!!). But, the ability to do other things on our own. Hopefully, start our own business. That, I will keep under wraps as we develop some more ideas about that.

     We are also hoping that we will be able to bless Grandma as well as be blessed by her. To hear her stories about the times when she grew up will be invaluable. Better then a text book any day. Also, there is other family that I am hoping we will be able to spend time with and grow new bonds with. What a cool thing for my kids to have cousins their own age to hang out with. It won't be all the time as they live a bit away. But, so much more then while we live on the other side of the country.

     So, I ask for prayers for God to be very obvious in His directions for this move and with our lives. We have truly been trying to live our lives as a living sacrifice. (Romans 12:1) Funny, those statements scare me. I am not a missionary or have any degree in bible. There are many reasons I don't feel qualified to think that God would want to use me. But, the bible says otherwise. It says he uses everyone of us. He uses common people. Even though Paul was a learned man he had to reteach him. But, He used many common people. Moses, Joseph, Gideon, Jephtah, David, Esther (my personal favorite story), Mary, Matthew, Luke, Peter, and others. He is a God of the people and and to the people.

     Esther, was a nobody. She was chosen to be queen. "For such a time as this." The exact quote is amazing in that she is told that God can do this with out you. He will raise someone else up but, He is calling on you. Will you stand up? 
Here is the quote: "For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father's family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to such a time as this?" Esther 4:14
Did you see that? He is able to do anything without our input but, He wants to use us and have a relationship with us. How much more do you think Esther learned about herself and God by doing what was set before her? Her confidence level about what she was capable of doing must have increased tremendously. Which is an even bigger deal for a young orphan woman during that time. Also, just a side note; another reason I love this story is that God doesn't talk out loud in this story. No burning bushes, no writing on the wall, not even a prophet coming and telling dreams or messages. Esther has to take her job on faith. Just like us. Faith is a terrifying thing. It is freeing on so many levels but, if you are anything like me you want to know what is coming and how it's going to pan out. That takes so much for me to break that fear of the unknown.

     So, God does use ordinary people. Just like you and me. I have been praying for a long time and singing for God to use my family for His glory. To lead my children in His ways. Dear husband has been praying for God to use us and to leave a legacy for our children. What better legacy then God's legacy? He has big plans for us. For all of  us. We just have to be open to hear and follow. So, while we jump into this big adventure, know that I am feeling like Esther stepping into the throne room that she wasn't invited to. I am no Esther but, she didn't think she was anything special either. 


     So, what will you do today to give yourself to God and His plans for your life? Who will you touch and lead to the Lord? These questions are more for me then anyone else.

     Thank you Lord, for leading us to a new adventure. For calling us to do something that will glorify Him and help us to bless others though.

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.