Oh what a week it was

I didn’t mean to be gone for a week, but I was well, gone. We had a wonderful visit with my parents and a nice, relaxing Thanksgiving. They arrived Friday a week ago tired from a long drive south. Saturday we did the park hopping. Not as in Disney park hopping, but as in local park hopping while The Narrator took pictures for friends and the kids played and then on to a birthday party. Sunday after church we headed to Downtown Disney and played like tourists. If you’ve never been to D.D. you should go. It’s fun and free. Did I mention free? Well, admission is free that is. D.D. is shop after shop, many of which you won’t find anywhere else. You can gorge yourself on Disney paraphernalia (had to look that word up in the dictionary to spell it right!). Anyway, we had fun and Mom & Dad did a little bit of Christmas shopping.

Monday we hung around here, and Mom & I got our hairs cut. I’m still a little unsure about my cut. I’ve never had a cut like this before. I’ve also never had super curly hair before. I’ve been at a complete loss as to what to do with this mop on top, so I gave my stylist friend free reign. I can’t decide yet if I look like a rock star or a rooster. I was leaning toward rooster. After a few days of playing with it though, I’m leaning toward rock star. Or maybe it’s because I’ve been playing Guitar Hero on The Narrator’s new xbox 360 (that his boss bought for him). Yeah, it must be the Guitar Hero. My parents would be happy to know that all those years of piano lessons when they paid extra for 15 minutes of rhythm lessons paid off when I played Guitar Hero. Money well spent. Thanks, Mom & Dad! Anyway, I digress…

Tuesday was Busch Gardens, Wednesday was the beach in Sarasota and picking up Great Grandma. The kids got sand in every crack of their little bodies. We had our own little sandbox in the bathtub that night. Tuesday night Mom & I baked 7 pies. Wednesday night I delivered 3 of them to neighbors. One of them is still in the fridge. Thursday was a relaxing day with yummy turkey that was a breeze to cook (just a breast, overnight in the slowcooker with a couple cups of water…The Narrator told me today it was the best turkey ever. And he doesn’t like turkey that much). Friday we headed to Busch Gardens again and took Great Grandma. We got to see a hippo open his mouth really wide. That was the highlight. Along with the sky ride that Little Miss Sunshine keeps talking about and a Christmas show that was all about Jesus. Surprised me too.

Oh yes, and did I mention that I was at Joanns when they opened at 6 a.m on Friday and when they opened at 7 a.m. on Saturday? I’m not much of a Black Friday shopper. Mostly because I’m really not a morning person. And I don’t have money and I don’t like to buy much for Christmas. But they had flannel for $.99 a yard, so I went hoping to stock up enough to last me for baby gifts all year long. I get one really good sized blanket and a burp cloth out of one yard. For $.99 that makes a nice gift (along with a knitted hat a few of my favorite coverall bibs I also make). And then on Friday they had a bolt of interfacing for $2.99. I never have interfacing and I hate having to run out and get some for every project. Money well spent.

Anyway, I hear the guitar strumming…..here comes the Hero!!

Women of Faith

I enjoyed my first Women of Faith experience. It wasn’t quite what I expected, but I guess I’m not sure what I expected. So I’m not sure how to recap it for you. In fact, I started to and realized it was way too boring. I expected more Bible teaching ala Beth Moore or Kay Arthur style. All of the speakers were phenomenal and told fabulous stories. I didn’t have any “aha” moments or really perceive anything too deep into my life, but I guess that’s not where I’m at right now. Really, I just needed a breather and a good laugh, which Anita Renfroe so willingly provided. That lady is just way too funny. If you haven’t seen her Mom Sense video on You Tube, Go. Right now. Watch it. You can find it by searching her name on You Tube. She’s geniously funny. The surprise for me was how much I enjoyed hearing Sandi Patty sing and lead worship. That lady can sing. I want to sing like her in heaven. Wow. And I’d like jeans like Nicole C. Mullen had. But I’d like those down here, not in heaven. Although if we can wear jeans in heaven, I’d take a pair with fringe on the bottom and bedazzled up the leg. But I’m pretty sure I could make a pair of my own down here. Not sure I can manage to get her toned arms though. That lady is super woman if there ever was one. She can sing, play the keys and guitar, dance, mom to 4 kids and be amazingly tone. Yeah. And Max Lucado is probably one of the kindest most compassionate men you will ever meet. I didn’t meet him, but judging his demeanor on the big screen, he’s a pretty loving man.

And that’s about all I have to say for the actual conference. I laughed. I cried. I wondered why in the world I’d need a Women of Faith manicure set or credit card, but that’s a different thought on commercialization. Like I said, I’ll go again next year, and I’ll be looking for a few books the speakers have written. Not that I’ll actually finish them. I don’t think I have read a complete book since I had kids. I keep trying. Maybe in 2008!!

People watching

My mini-weekend away was wonderful. I forgot how good it felt to sleep seven hours straight. I wanted to take the fluffy king-sized bed home with me, and when I saw a catalog on the desk I realized for a couple thousand dollars I could!

I had the best of both worlds at this conference. While I sat with a group of women I knew, I was traveling alone. I had a hotel room to myself, I traversed from the hotel room to the forum and back alone, and made my way through the mass of women at the forum alone. I felt like a free agent. I could come and go as I please, and rather than having to be constantly engaged in conversation with people I had the chance to watch. And oh did I watch. And sometimes I spoke up.

After the conference ended Friday night a mass of us headed back to the hotel where The Narrator had reserved a room for me. The line for the elevators reached the hotel entrance. As everyone around me chattered and complained and gossiped, I observed a family of four walk in the front door and realize they had made a mistake. I’m sure they wished they had known that a conference full of women was in town and had stayed farther away from the action. The Dad held a very asleep 6 or 7 year old daughter on his shoulder. I saw them look at each other and wonder how they and their 10 or 11 year old son could get to their rooms. I watched in amazement as none of these Christian women paid any attention to this family. It was obvious; they were the only ones waiting for the elevators who didn’t belong to “us.” Slowly they inched their way forward. By the time I was at the front of the line, they were close to getting on an elevator, and it bothered me that no one had offered to let this family get on an elevator ahead of all of us. Truly. All they had to do was ask one person and they’d find out that we were a group of cranky Christian women. Nice. When I go to conferences like this where I am very obviously (and sometimes unfortunately) representing the name of Christ, I go out of my way to leave a loving impression. I smile, I look service people in the eye, I let them know I appreciate them and I always say thank you, even if I’m in a rush. Really, it’s the way we should always be, but in a heightened situation like this, I heighten my attention to those details. So when the elevator doors opened, I held out my hand and called to the family and asked them to please get on the elevator. “I know what it’s like to have sleepy kids. Have a nice evening.” They gave a quick smile and thank you. As the doors closed I heard some grumbling behind me from some lady who was obviously up past her bed time. Five more minutes wasn’t going to kill her. I just hope that if this family finds out they were stuck in a line full of Women of Faith that they felt like we cared.

I like traveling alone. I feel a bit bolder.

Husband of the year award

I’m headed to the Women of Faith conference in town this weekend. I’ve never been to one and I was happy to finally not be 9 months pregnant or nursing a newborn so I could go. I’m looking forward to soaking in the speakers and worship and getting a recharge. I’m sure it will spark my brain and I’ll have more to chew on than I can process. It’s been a loooong time since I’ve been to a conference like this.

On instant messenger this afternoon, The Narrator asked me what the plan was for the weekend.

SG: The plan? I’ll be gone all weekend. Ends at 5 on Saturday.
TN: Gone as in spending the night downtown?
SG: HA! I wish. No.
TN: Where is the conference?
SG: The forum
TN: So such-and-such hotel is close by then.
SG: Yeah
TN: Here’s a confirmation number – XYZ – you’re spending the night. Have a great weekend and get the most you can out of it. You deserve a getaway.
SG: WHAT???

He SO is getting husband of the year award. SO getting it. I was already excited to get to dress up in “big girl” clothes for two days and not have someone else’s snot, slobber, and supper splashed all over me (no guarantees I still won’t get my own on me). NOW to also be able to sleep in a bed I don’t have to make, not worry if the coughing I hear is ok, not have to get up early and hunt for a parking spot, take an uninterrupted shower, be able to put makeup on and fix my hair without sticking an elbow over my makeup box to prevent little hands from grabbing a “crayon.” Mercy. I can’t even imagine. I’m giddy. Although I’m sure by the time I get home Saturday night they will have each grown two inches and added a dozen words to their vocabularies. I’ll miss them for sure. But right now,  I need to go pack a bag!!!

Do the next thing

Confession. I bought T-Rex’s birthday cake. Hmm…I thought confessing would make me feel better. Nope. I did at least have a coupon. And Publix makes really good cake. And the smash cake was free. Still don’t feel better. It sure did taste good though. And it was cute. Sigh. I give up.

On October 5, while driving to the grocery store by myself, I started my fall freak-out session. In that rare moment of solitary silence when I could actually think, I realized sometimes it’s better not to think. It was in that moment while approaching the train tracks that I realized  I had just hit the craziest part of my year. In addition to the normal Halloween costuming, Thanksgiving cooking, and Christmas giving of the next three months I also had 2 weeks of family guests, T-Rex’s first birthday, a two week trip to the Great North (which for us also means locating a full winter wardrobe for 2 weeks), two nieces first birthdays, my Dad’s birthday, a brother-in-law’s birthday, and days after we return home from the Great North, Little Miss Sunshine’s third birthday. I crossed the tracks (my thoughts happened that quickly – there was no train!) and started telling myself “breathe, just breathe, breathe, go to the grocery store, breathe.” My mind hasn’t stopped racing since then.

I make lists. Halfway through the list, I start a new list. Then I make lists of my lists. Then I crumple them up and start it all over the next day. Yesterday, I gave up on lists and just figured that if I didn’t do something, the only person who wouldn’t know was me, well and anyone who walks into our home and sees the BLACK grout that is gray in non-traffic areas and the spots on the carpet and the million projects strewn across my crafting desk.

In my dream world I’d love to have thoughtful, handmade gifts for everyone, a home made cake for all my kids birthdays, and a slew of happy warm memories. Happy warm memories survived the crumpling of the lists. Over the past month I’ve been telling myself to not just move through the motions of these crazy months but to soak them in and enjoy them. If that means shopping deals instead of sewing (which it absolutely does) then so be it. I tried so hard to gear up all year for this season, but with a newborn and a toddler, (now two toddlers) it just didn’t happen. And so I just keep doing the next thing. Costuming finished, fabulous and happy warm memories of the time. T-Rex’s birthday finished and an absolutely GORGEOUS day at the park filled with friends and a yummy (gulp) Publix cake. A fabulous week visit with the in-laws and a million warm happy memories. I just keep doing the next thing (and at times the next three things).  I’m really not willing to sacrifice those matching pajamas that I have cut out for the kids and their cousins for Christmas, so that is my next thing. One at a time. NEXT!!!

The difference between Mom & Dad

Little Miss Sunshine handed me a birthday balloon out of a package that came from my parents for T-Rex’s big day. I blew it up, tied it, and handed it to her. A few minutes later she brought me another one. Same scene. A few minutes later she brought a third one. Same scene. A few minutes later she brought a fourth one. “Daddy can blow that one up for you, honey.” My cheeks hurt.

She runs over to Daddy and hands him the balloon. He puts it in his mouth and blows and buzzes his lips pretending he can’t blow it up. She giggles her head off. “No Daddy, blow it up!!” He buzzes and spits all over again. More giggles. Both kids crowd around. He blows it up and stretches the neck so the balloon “sings” to T-Rex, “Happy Birthday.” “Me too! Me too!” He blows it up again and it “sings” to Little Miss Sunshine. He blows it up again and this time lets it go and it flies all over the room. Howls of laughter. T-Rex chases it down and brings it back to him. He blows it up and it flies and T-Rex chases it down again and brings it back and sticks the right part of the balloon in Daddy’s mouth so he’ll blow it up again. Over and over and over until the balloon was practically no good. Then he blew it up and tied it and rubbed it on Little Miss Sunshine’s head to get the static so it would stick to the wall. And then again so it would stick to the window. And then again so it stuck to her head. And then again so it stuck to T-Rex’s head.

An hour of pure entertainment for all of us. A balloon. Who knew? Apparently Daddy did.

A year ago today

A year ago today around 10 a.m. The Narrator and I walked into the hospital, signed in, and sat in the waiting room watching the television. We chit chatted. Not the normal conversation you’d expect from someone about to have a baby in a couple hours. I leaned back and rested my arms on my gigantic belly still wondering boy or girl? We both nodded. Boy. Somehow we just intuitively knew boy from the beginning. The Narrator looked at me and asked how in the world I could be so calm. My response was probably too matter of fact. If my choice is to either keep the baby inside me or be cut open to get him or her out, then please, cut me open. I was a re-peat c-section. After the drama and trauma of Little Miss Sunshine’s birth, I was just fine to be a scheduled c-section.

They called my name and the fun began. Nurses and aides laughed and joked with me as they started my IVs.  One anesthesiologist aide cracked food jokes since I had made a comment about being hungry. If I hadn’t known he’d be wielding a very large needle in a matter of minutes, I probably would have clocked him and blamed it on the pregnancy hormones.

Finally I was laying on the table under the bright lights, numb as could be, waiting for The Narrator to show. Before his arrival I had my first wave of nausea. The nurse by my head was so helpful. At the first mention of the nausea she gave me something via IV to stop it, and I felt gooood. It was the last time I’d feel gooood all day.

Everyone was so calm compared to my first c-section which was an emergency. The staff had all taken their guess and agreed with us on a boy. Just as they were ready to pull the baby out the nurse urged The Narrator to stand up and peek. He said all he had to see was the head and shoulders and knew he had a boy. Our square little man entered the world and yelled to let us know he was here. “Made it, Mom! Breathing just fine!!”

I held him while they stitched me back up and he was just perfect. Just perfect. All boy, all snuggles and I couldn’t have been happier. It only went downhill from there. It was four hours before I saw him again. This hospital was set up at the time so that c-section moms went to general recovery. Babies went to the nursery and I didn’t see him again until I got into my room. I mentally willed my legs to move, even the slightest motion to let the nurses know everything was working and I’d be ok. Didn’t matter. They had to wait for a room to open. Then they needed my spot and I laid in a hallway for a good 30 minutes waiting for a transport. If I hadn’t been so drugged I definitely would have been mad.

Finally, they moved me. Then I wished they hadn’t. I was fine until the elevator ride and I just KNEW I was going to throw up. I mustered all the will power in the world to hold it in, hold it in. The doors flung open and there we were right at the nursery, and a crowd of people staring at us, including my family, and all I could think was “don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up.” My last c-section had been epidural. This one was a spinal anesthesia. Whole new ball game. I tried to tell my family that I didn’t feel good, but I couldn’t even speak. I just threw the sheet over my head and willed it all to go away, go away. I heard the transport lady nicely tell my family that I didn’t feel good. Then I was in the safety of my room. If only they would have stopped moving me I would have been ok!

Finally in my room, in my new bed, hooked up to God knows what, I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I reached the point where I figured I’d just feel better if I let it all out. Good thing I hadn’t eaten in 24 hours. My sweet sister-in-law held the bucket and washcloth. What a gem. Every time I moved for the next however many hours, same scene, until one sweet firm nurse told me I had to get all the way up and out of bed for it to stop. Tough love. But she was right.

He was worth it. My little T-Rex. Truck. Tank. Tooth. All boy. He went all too quickly from cuddly infant needing me for everything to a running, jumping, dancing, climbing, babbling, self-feeding, adorable BOY. He seems so much older than one, which I am sure has everything to do with the two haircuts and walking at nine months. He’s been more cuddly than normal the past couple days. I pretend it’s because he knew he was hitting a milestone marking the end of his babyhood. In reality it was probably just because he had the sniffles. He’s my boy. I love him so much.

Coming soon

It’s taken me longer than I expected to get everything set up here. I know some of you ran into trouble getting set up. It’s a hassle having user names and passwords, I know. I’m holding off getting back into the swing of things until I make sure I’ve helped everyone get set up (in addition to a board meeting and a 1st birthday party to plan and execute and an overnight guest and…you understand!). Also as I’ve taken a little break I’ve been doing lots and lots of thinking and writing in my head and praying, and when I come back (in the next week) it will be in full force with a refined direction. Thanks for hanging in there with me!