Still On the Journey

We got Baby Butterbean and ourselves all ready to go yesterday morning, only to get a call from the doctor telling us we would need to reschedule the appointment. We were disappointed. We wanted to know what is wrong with him right now!!!! But we will have to wait until Aug. 28 to find out.

This week I haven't felt too well, but I felt better yesterday and I feel better today. I spent yesterday shopping for school stuff. Scott has been at school getting his new room all set up. He has had to move rooms because his previous classroom (that has been his classroom for the past two years!) has asbestos under the floor and must be renovated! Yikes! Moving rooms is a huge job for a teacher, especially if you've been in one room for awhile and have made a little nest for yourself. So Scott is working hard this week. I'll be going up to my school to organize my nest tomorrow.

Last week we were in Arkansas. We got in some good Grandma, Pappa, Uncle Matt, Aunt Lisa, cousin Trevor, Aunt Elizabeth, and cousin McNary time. I also got to see my beloved Courtney and Rachel, my BFF of course! (CBB, make sure Rachel sees this!) I got to have long talks with people that I love about things that matter, and even though we didn't come up with any concrete answers, we felt better knowing that our struggles were the same.

We did fun stuff last week, like having Elizabeth go with us and the kids to Wild River Country; going out for Chinese food with the family; having the McNary cousins over for dinner; taking the kids to MidAmerica Museum, the Promenade, and Bathhouse Row in Hot Springs; and celebrating Daddy's 76th birthday with homemade chocolate meringue pie. Again, as soon as we learn to upload videos, you will be able to see some of our adventures!

So, I'm still on this journey of uncertainty and wondering. I may not ever have the answers I am looking for, but at this point, assurance and peace would be welcome friends in the absence of answers. What a year it has been! I think about it every day, how one event really has changed every aspect of my thinking. That change in thinking has in turn changed my life, my outlook. I used to feel like I was on a mountain and could see everything beautiful and green and clear all around me. Everything was in its place and everything made sense, everything mattered. Now I feel like I am chopping my way through a dense forest, full of trees I can't climb and rivers I can't cross and predators in wait all around me. Nothing is certain, nothing makes sense, and I'm constantly being tripped up by debris on the path, trying to figure out what matters.

Much love to all of you -

How to Survive a Personal Crisis

1. Have a long talk with a great friend. (thanks. I love you.)

2. MGD. It's no longer just for your Beer Can Chicken recipe.

3. Don't be afraid of new thoughts or of new things happening; things will always change forever and ever.

4. Have a good laugh, thanks to Noodle. She said that when Uncle Matt, Aunt Lisa, and Trevor come to visit, she is going to throw her big coat at Uncle Matt's face "and he will laugh," and that she is not going to hug them because, "they're too crazy."

5. Brownies.

6. Ice Cream.

7. Reese's Cups.

8. Spoonfuls of straight sugar if you have to.

9. Hugs and sugars from four sweet little people who are always pulling on my pants legs.

10. Keeping a sense of humor.

11. Believing - if not feeling - that things will be OK later.

12. Feeling OK about letting things not be OK right now.

13. Blog.

14. Bubble baths.

15. More brownies.

Sometimes

Sometimes we go through hard stuff. All of us do.

Things at work are hard. Other stuff is hard right now, too.

My friend Lisa died. We will miss her very much. Her visitation was yesterday and her funeral is this morning. Please pray for her family. Sometimes things just do not make sense. Lisa has left a great legacy. I've been thinking a lot about my life since learning of her death on Wednesday. I want to leave a great legacy, too. But sometimes . . . I am afraid that I won't.

I just want to say how much I love my family and all of my friends. You are all so very dear to me, and if I have ever caused any of you hurt, then I am so sorry.

Sometimes you just wish you could take back all of your mistakes, but you can't. You just have to hope to be forgiven.

I know that later there will be good times. But we have to live through the hard stuff too. And we don't have a guarantee that things will make sense.

2AM

I went to bed at 8PM, completely exhausted. I woke up with the baby at 1AM and took some Excedrin for a headache. Now I can't go back to sleep.

I was just reading The Second Summer of the Sisterhood in The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series. I'm halfway through the book and just discovered that each girl (except Bridget, whose Mother is not living) is in a fight with her mother. The theme of this book seems to be mother-daughter relationships. I've heard that a woman's realtionship with her mother is the most complicated one in her life. It's a good book so far.

I've been thinking about writing about my New Year's Resolutions. I have several, but I kind of don't want to share them out loud (so to speak). There are several changes that I want to make, but I don't know if I'm brave enough or consistent enough to follow through. What if I don't, then you all think that I'm a big failure?

I've been thinking about how different my life is now compared to before the Scott and the kids. I think about that a lot. There's not one place in this house that I can look that's not a reminder of my family. My bookmark is one that Eliza made me for Christmas. On the desk beside me is Eliza's report card and her reminder note for her academic after-school competetion. She's doing oral reading; a poem. In my pocket today, I carried a picture Molly had drawn of our family and insisted that I take with me today. Molly likes to draw things and tape them to the doors and walls. Right now, on our bedroom door is a picture of a not exactly round face with large, not-round eyes and a crooked smile. I can't remember if it's my face or Scott's. Sometimes Molly forgoes the paper altogether and just draws directly onto the wall or door. Aaron has taken to getting into bed with us these days and playing with my hair till he falls asleep. He needs to pick up his Thomas trains and his Lincoln Logs. I step on them when I'm changing Charlie's diaper. There's a trail of Charlie's spit-up-on clothing and blankets trailing through the house. There's a chubby finger wrapped around mine as I feed him in the middle of the night. I was really only joking when I asked Scott tonight if someone might take our kids, and then we could sleep at night. Sleepless nights are hard, but I really do like those kids a lot.

I like being a teacher. I have several students with tattoos. One of my students has a tattoo that reminds me of something I saw on TV about radiation patients getting tattoos so that they'll get the radiation in the right spot. I mentioned that to my student and said, "Does that tattoo mean something?" His gaze strayed to the spot on the knuckle of his thumb where the three dots were, looked at it briefly, and then said, "Yeah, Miss, it means something." He wouldn't tell me what it meant, but I didn't have to guess. Mostly the kids in gangs interact peacefully at school; I'm not worried. But I am hearsick for most of them, because I know that this is a replacement for family and real belonging. I have this quote from Helen Keller up on my wall: "I cannot do everything, but still, I can do something."
I hope that will be true.

As I've been on this journey with God these past 22 years, I've come to recognize His voice in my life and how it is that He speaks to me. I'm sure you understand. Sometimes it's a still, small voice, a gentle whisper that you recognize. Sometimes it's a voice so loud in your ear, it's like a bullhorn. I've been hearing the bullhorn lately.

Much love to all of you. I love to hear and read about all of your adventures. I just hope you're sleeping peacefully as I write about mine!

Very Worried

I'm very worried about my little man, Banana.

This is his sixth day with fever and no explanation. He sees the doctor in about an hour. I had thought for sure the antibiotics would have kicked in by now. Of course my kids have had fever before, but never as high as he's had, and never this many days. He is not sleeping well at night, and when the fever is extreme, he throws up. He's miserable.

Please say a little prayer for my sweetie pie Banana.

Just Lots of Stuff

So my long-term sub job came to an end two weeks ago. The first week after it ended was difficult. I missed my kids so much (boy, did they send me off in a grand way. One class even threw a party for me) and I found out that I did not get the 9th grade position for which I'd interviewed. But things are getting better, and I'm still subbing. Also, the manager at Palais Royal called me in to work again. This was my first week back, and I'm having a blast so far. The new manager is so great and we have the same fun crew, with a few new fun people. We really all do mix well as co-workers. It is a blessing.

Halloween was fun. It was a long time ago, and I didn't get any pictures, but it was fun. Noodle was a dalmation. Chicken Nugget was a bat, this being the third year running. Banana was Thomas the Tank Engine. He is WAY into Thomas these days. But he didn't really keep his costume on during the Halloween carnival. We always take the kids to the festival at the church up the street, rather than trick-or-treating. It's because they have free dinner (hot dogs and stuff), lots of games, tons of candy and cookies, bounce houses, etc. etc., and most of our neighbors go too. It's always lots of fun. Oh, and if you're wondering what Baby Butterbean was . . . well, he was a baby. And he stayed home with me while Dad took the big kids to the carnival.

My dad recently had his bladder removed. About nine or so years ago, it was discovered that he had some small cancerous tumors in his bladder. They were recurring, every couple of years or so, but always very, very small and easily removed. His last surgery to remove some tumors was back in July. Daddy never really bounced back from that surgery, as he had always bounced back and recovered well from previous surgeries. The cancer had become too difficult to remove and the doctor said that the bladder needed to come out. So just after we left my parents' house to return to Somewhere Near Houston after Hurricane Ike, Daddy had the surgery. He also had some lymph nodes removed, and because microscopic cancer cells were found in the lymph nodes, Daddy is taking chemo once a week. He is only getting one chemical, and he's been handling everything like a champ. Before his bladder removal surgery, he had been feeling really sick and was losing weight. Now he's feeling much better, is recovering from his surgery well, doing great with the chemo, and is back to his old eating habits :o)! Yay, Daddy!

Mission trip stuff is going great. We'll be buying plane tickets to go to the Czech Republic very soon! I'll write some more detailed information about the mission trip soon. In the meantime, I am raising money for the trip. I'll be sending fundraising e-mails and letters soon, too. Look for yours in the mail!

I had a great birthday. My sweetie hubby got me some great gifts, including a beautiful new comforter set and roses that he sent me at school. He also let me get away to Conroe to spend the weekend with Kelly and her sister, Nikki. We had a great time with each other, Baby Butterbean, and Kelly's nephew, whom she was taking care of while her other sister was out of town. They baby boys are just about two weeks apart in age, and we were in baby heaven. And when they were sleeping, we were in girl-talk heaven. We also went shopping at Sam Moon (AWESOME!!!!) and ate at Macaroni Grill. It was so much fun.

Our Thanksgiving was nice and relaxing, just us. But it was sandwiched between ER visits! Crazy. Wednesday night, Baby Butterbean had such a hard time sleeping. He'd had a little cold, but it had turned into wheezing and coughing and he just couldn't sleep or eat. By midnight, I knew he needed to be seen. So I took him on in to the hospital in our town. He was seen pretty quickly and got some prescriptions, and even including the trip to the pharmacy, we were home within three hours.

Banana had been running a temp since Wednesday night, but it was nothing alarming, and he had no more symptoms. He ran a temp all day Thanksgiving, but was still eating and playing and had no other symptoms. By yesterday morning, his temp had risen to 105.8, and I was in a panic. Our PCP was in Dallas for the holiday, but after calling him, he told me to go to Texas Children's Hospital in Houston right away. I was hesitant, because I'd had Baby Butterbean there once before for suspected pneumonia and waited six hours to see a doctor. I told this to Dr. G, but he insisted I had to go there and that he would call the hospital for me if he had to. After waiting three hours and having Banana's temp checked twice and getting one dose of Motrin, we were finally taken to a room. Two doctors examined him and found nothing wrong (lungs clear, ears and throat looked fine . . .) and they were ready to send us home with the diagnosis of "virus." I told them that Dr. G wanted them to call, and I could tell that they weren't crazy about having to call him, but I'm so glad they did. Long story short, Dr. G ordered bloodwork, and the bloodwork indicated more than just a virus. The white count was really elevated, alarmingly so, so Banana got a chest x-ray (which showed no problems) and a shot of super-antibiotics and a prescription for more antibiotics. His fever was still 105 this morning at about 4AM. We follow up with Dr. G on Monday. By the way, I got to the ER in Houston at 11:15AM yesterday and left at 8:30PM. I felt sorry for those waiting after we left, because the nurse told me there were 85 patients waiting for to be seen.

Whew! I think that's everything for now! I'll get back to everyone after all my laundry is washed, folded, and put away . . . on second thought, no I won't. Ya'll might never hear from me again if I did that!

Getting Just a Little Tired of This . . .

I went back to the doctor today for spotting, contractions, pressure, and pain.

My cervix has not changed, but the baby has moved. He's no longer breech . . . he's transverse! Well, it's a little bit of progress, but his position seems to be what is causing the increase in symptoms. He's moving like crazy, and this includes kicks, punches, and somersaults. The movement and position of the baby is putting pressure on certain . . . *ahem* . . . key areas of my body, which is increasing the intensity of my contractions, as well as causing pain in between.

I'm so confused! I've never been one to go into labor on my own. The closest I came was with Noodle; I went to the hospital with mild contractions, had my water broken, and got to 4cm on my own . . . that was after about 6 or 8 hours or so. Then, it was the pitocin. Always the pitocin. So any pain, bleeding, or other symptoms I've had when it's come to having my babies has taken place in the hospital. In light of that, it's been hard to discern what symptoms do or do not require a call to the doctor. But especially because all of the symptoms with this pregnancy are happening pre-term.

I want Baby Boy to be ok, and I'm so worried about him being in the NICU if he is born now. Though I've been assured that he'll be fine, all I can think about is delivering a premature baby. My babies have always been big and healthy, with no problems. They come home from the hospital the same time I do. This may not happen this time.

I really do try not to worry. I try to take all my symptoms and trips to the doctor and uncertainty with a good attitude. But I have my days and my moments when it becomes overwhelming. I know that God really is in control, and I know how many, many prayers are going up on our behalf. But I'm human, and my humanity sometimes wins out.

Thanks for reading and for praying. Please keep praying! God is bigger than this.
Much love to all of you -

Oy Vey!

I haven't been much with the updates lately, and here's a couple of reasons why:

Last week, I noticed that something was leaking from the bottom of our fridge. I brought it to the attention of my hubby, and upon inspection, we noticed that it was a leak from the freezer that had dripped its way down through the door of the fridge and onto the floor. The source of the leak was the thawing of all the food in our freezer. Our fridge had broken. Thankfully, we have outstanding landlords (the fridge belongs to the house, not to us), so they replaced it as soon as they could. Unfortunately, it wasn't before we had to throw out just about everything in our fridge and freezer. Talk about feeling ill, and I don't mean nausea due to the smell of the ruined food. I felt ill because we didn't catch it sooner, and because that was at least a week or more worth of suppers gone totally to waste. And any of you on a budget knows that's nothing to sneeze at. And anyone else can understand that food going to waste is just a sad thing to see. So, that was the end of last week.

Also last week, we got a call from our mortgage broker. Things aren't going along as well as we'd hoped with the home-buying. However, she is very nice, very honest, and very helpful. She gave us several tips to help increase our price range. She also advised us to wait about six months before we start looking again. That's disappointing, but . . . in the grand scheme of things, it's just a house. We've had to look on the bright side, put aside the frustration of getting our hopes up (really wanting to put in a bid, etc.), and trust the timing and the right house, neighborhood, etc. to God.

Saturday night, I went to bed with a headache. I woke up with a full-blown migraine that put me down for the whole day. I've been having headaches lately, about one a week or so, and I think it's due to some medication I've been on to help alleviate some other symptoms I've been having. No more headaches since Sunday, though, so that's good. But . . .

Tuesday night, Noodle woke up in the night screaming. She had a fever of about 101, so we gave her Motrin and put her back to bed. She was up a couple more times in the night. Being the mommy and all, I fretted all night and couldn't sleep, apart from being up with her anyway.

The next day, she was fine, but we stayed inside just to be sure.

Wednesday night, while I was at work, BW called me to tell me that Banana had a fever and had thrown up. So guess who didn't sleep Wednesday night? Yep, Banana and I didn't sleep! Poor Banana - his fever got up to just over 103, and he had the fever most all of the day yesterday. But thankfully, he has had no fever or symptoms all day today, and we even got to go out in the lovely weather to play.

I'm still working retail. I really, really like my co-workers, but I really, really don't like the world of retail. And that job I interviewed for, two weeks ago now, has still not contacted me. I have the advantage of BW knowing those in charge, and he said they've made a decision, but have to process it through the "powers that be" before they can make an offer. I'm anxious to know, anxious to get out of retail.

So, we threw away food, I've been sick, the kids have been sick, I've been a walking zombie, my house is a wreck, I still work nights (yuck!), we can't buy a house (yet), I'm exhausted, my kids have been watching way too much tv this week . . . how's all this for a fun family update!

But, (except for the lack of sleep), I think we've been amazingly at peace. Even so, there are still those days that I shed some tears and throw my hands up into the air and say, "Oy vey!"

This Is What A Third-Grader Looks Like:

At least, this is what our third-grader looks like. Only to me, she still doesn't look like a third-grader. For some reason, I'm really feeling like crying this morning! When did she get so big and third-grader-y? I tell her quite often that she used to be a tiny baby. And I'll tell you, it really wasn't that long ago. Eight years may seem like a long time in some respects, but when I look at my little third-grader, it seems like the blink of an eye.

Chicken Nugget appeared in my bedroom doorway this morning and announced: "Get up! It's time to get ready for school!" (Now, I do not expect these early-morning announcements to continue.) She dressed herself and popped out of her room, asking, "Well, how do I look?" with that sweet smile of hers.

I told her that she looked great! But inside my heart was breaking. Just like it is now.

She told me she'd feel a lot better if I walked her over to school and helped her get to her place in the gym. Before third grade, she just went to her classroom. But waiting in the gym is a whole new situation. I was happy to help her out, so we walked over to the school and found her teacher. We scouted out the line in which she was to wait until the bell rang. Chicken Nugget sat down quietly, cross-legged, all third-grader-looking, and she put on that same sweet smile. I could tell she was excited, anxious, a bit uncertain, but also ready. I waved to her, and she waved back, and there wasn't much fanfare; she just sat there, waiting to begin her first day as a third-grader, ready for mom to depart the building.

So I left, and now I'm here at home, working on chores, taking care of the little ones, trying to choke down the fact that the little girl who came into the world, all of 6 pounds and 11 and 3/4 ounces, is now a big ol' third-grader. And I'm afraid time's not going to slow down much from here on out.

In Anticipation of Arkansas

No, I'm not going to see an Arkansas game! But I am going to Arkansas. I leave Friday.

It was several weeks ago that ESF told me her father had cancer. It was so sudden and unexpected. I wanted to be with her then. Then another friend, MHW, lost her father. He was in his yard cutting limbs when one fell on him, and he died. I was in total shock. I didn't get to go to the funeral, but Buffalo Wings was nice enough to search around and get me a cheap flight over the long weekend. The decision was made pretty quickly and we bought the flight. BW and the girls will stay here; Banana and I will go for an extended weekend to Arkansas.

Banana and I will be spending most of our time with ESF; Saturday will be spent with MHW and other friends. I will get to see ESF's mom and will go see her dad probably Saturday morning. I'm excited about this trip. I really think that my friends and I will be able to be a healing balm to one another. This has been a difficult, confusing time for everyone, and being away from everyone has left me aching. I'm glad I get to bring Banana (he flies at no cost!), because he is a funny little guy and cheers everyone up.

Of course I'll spend Easter with Mamma and Daddy, my brother Crab Cakes and my nephew, French Fries. Crab Cakes also has a new girlfriend, Sugar Cookie! I can't wait to meet her. I'll miss seeing the girls in their new Easter outfits on Easter morning, dying Easter eggs and all those things, but we saved a couple hundred bucks and I got two extra days flying this weekend, so . . . I'll look forward to the many more Easter mornings in the future.

CBB - - - BBQ @ MHW's house Saturday! Can't wait to see you!!!!!

And while I'm in Arkansas, I plan on picking up some Razorback souveniers to bring back! Ahhh, to be back among friends and family in the land of milk and honey . . .

And the Oscar goes to . . .

Maybe I'm just becoming too cynical, but the Oscars don't excite me like they used to. I remember one year, I even took pictures of the TV screen as it showed certain movie stars and winners! I was crazy! But now, I think I see the value of awards and accolades in a different light. Not that it is bad to award someone for some great achievement, and not that I wasn't thrilled for Jennifer Hudson when I heard that she won (talk about a Cinderella story), but I just . . . think about it in a different way now.

BW and I talk about things like this, about how people that work very hard aren't often compensated in the same way as those who have seemingly easier jobs. Not that I know what goes into making a movie, and I hear it takes hours and hours and working late into the night, but . . . seeing as anyone I've ever heard interviewed can usually take as much time off as they want, rest, always go on a vacation . . . veiwing it from a worldly perspective, compared to how little BW gets for a lot of hard work . . . well, it just doesn't seem fair.

But as I said, the older I've gotten, the more life I've lived, the more I've started to view these things much differently. I understand more and more how gaining the applause of Heaven (so to speak) matters much more than gaining the applause of men. I used to get such a thrill when I was in plays in college, to go out and take my bows and hear all that clapping. Or to say a line and hear a great reaction from the audience. There's something thrilling about that. But there's something just as thrilling these days about having Noodle run into my arms, all grins, and say, "Mamma, you're my best friend."

Or to hear BW laugh out loud when I tell a good joke, or to feel special because he has gone out of his way to do somethin just for me, to let me know that in his world, I am the most important person on the planet.

Or to have Banana give me big, big sugars, all the while saying, "MMMM-mmmm-whah!" and then see him grin a big, big grin.

Or to have Chicken Nugget give me something that she made me at school, as she waits for me to smile and show how happy I am that I got it - that moment means the world to her, I know, because I mean the world to her. And no amount of audiences applauding for me or handing me an award can take the place of that.

What I'd like to do is have my own Oscars, or something like it, and give awards to those people who have really been there for me and have loved me. I'd have to give thousands of them. They'd go something like:

"And the award for the part of the best friend in a dramatic trauma goes to . . . "

"And the award for being a real friend when all others dropped away after I did something really stupid . . ."

"And the award for laughing with me till we were breathless and rolling on the floor . . ."

"And the award for the best husband and kids in the entire world . . . "

"And the award for those who prayed for me every single day . . . "

But those are the things that will never get awards. And they don't have to. They don't need to. It doesn't even matter about awards and applause.

Here's the award that I'm waiting for:

"Well done, thy good and faithful servant . . ."

A Little Update

I had my root canal on Tuesday. It was (or is so far) a great success. I got a cleaning just before my root canal, and the hygenist didn't know that I had a huge gaping hole in my tooth and an infected, exposed nerve. So when water and instruments hit that nerve, tears involuntarily sprouted and I was so embarrassed. But she stopped and assured me that she was easy to get along with, and the cleaning went smoothly after that. The sweet hygenist even checked on me just before my root canal.

I got my preliminary shot and sat around for a few minutes, talking with the dental assistant about how scared I was to have this procedure, and then the dentist came in to begin. Seconds into it, I could feel pain as he drilled into the bad tooth and hit my nerve. The dentist was kind and apologetic and made haste to give me another shot, which did the trick, but I needed still another one toward the end of the root canal, as the dental assistant was poking and prodding around my tooth. Right now it is still sore and tender around the tooth, but that face-on-fire, agonizing pain is gone. I don't think I'll miss that nerve. Not one bit.

Noodle said something funny to me yesterday (nothing related to my tooth). We were just talking and she said, "And we were in there and I was screaming at Boo-Boo (what she calls Banana) and Daddy come in there and got me in trouble."
I said, "Why did he get you in trouble?"
Noodle answered, "I don't know."
I asked, "Do you think you should be nice to Boo-Boo?"
Noodle replied, "No, I was mean to Boo-Boo!"
I said, "Well, be nice to Boo-Boo."
She said, "OK."
It is true that Noodle yells at Banana a lot, and this makes Banana cry. Anyone reading ever have this problem with your children, or witnessed it with others? If so, any pointers? Or do we just wait out the screaming?

Banana just this morning learned to crawl onto the kitchen chairs and from there, onto the top of the kitchen table and stand up. We are so proud of him.

I hope all of your lives are just as exciting!

Mommy Musings . . .

I got home from work tonight and was unwinding, watching some TV. During a commercial, I turned my head to look at the pictures we keep on the shelf. There's one of Chicken Nugget, the Easter before BW and I got married. She had just turned four, had long hair, was wearing her pink and white Easter dress, had her chubby-cheeked face cocked to one side . . . and I thought how big she is now.
I looked around the house. Toys scattered everywhere. Laundry undone. Lots of work to be done in the morning . . . I stumbled into the living room to lower the blinds, and there were more toys. And I thought, one day our house won't be full of toys to stumble over. But instead of that being a hopeful thought, it made me sad.
I worry a lot about a lot of things that don't really matter. I worry about not keeping the house clean enough. No matter how hard I try, it's never clean enough. The laundry's never done and the toys are never all picked up and there's always a spot I missed while dusting or mopping. But at the end of my life . . . is it going to matter if I missed those spots?
When Banana's such a ready cuddler, happy to be nestled in my lap, should I really hasten to put him down again and begin all my cleaning? How much longer will he want to cuddle and give sugars and tell me what the dinosaur says? When will he stop sticking his feet out for me to do "this little piggy?" As fast as I have seen time go with my oldest child, I know that there's really not that much longer for me to enjoy those things.
I worry about dirt getting tracked through the house or paint getting smudged on the walls, when I should view these things as signs of life and joy and cheerfulness. When I should see Noodle's smiles instead of her messes . . . when I should be getting messy with her, instead of always picking up behind her. Right now it is her joy in life to share with me. It's foolish not to participate in that.
This day, after all, is fleeting.
I should laugh more, relax more. Not worry so much if Banana wants to sleep in the bed with us from time to time. Not try to be a textbook mom who flips if the schedule doesn't go just right . . . one day these people who are now my precious little ones will be in college, and they won't even remember sleeping in bed with us or getting two snacks before lunchtime.
I'll be the one with all the memories, of the toys on the floor and the mud in the house and the running in the rain and the toilet paper trails and the paint on the belly and the morning hair and the being crowded out of bed by snuggly toddlers who needed mom and dad in the night . . .

This day is fleeting, after all. In a few more months, the girl who used to be my first little baby will turn eight years old. What a fast eight years. So for this fleeting moment, I'll cherish and savor and revel in the fact that there are toys on the floor. This day's just about fled, anyhow. Might as well just let tomorrow worry about itself . . .

A Job and A Tooth

I am not going to take the supervisor's position (see post entitled, "Decision Required!").

I would be away from home a lot more, and the pay wouldn't compensate for the amount of $ BW and I would have to spend on childcare. And I'm not looking at making retail my career, after all.

This weekend at the ladies' retreat for church, two of Eliza's Sunday School teachers came up to me at seperately and said, "Chicken Nugget really doesn't like you working. She's worried about you taking this new job and has been asking us to pray for you in class."

That was enough for me to more than question my uneasiness at taking the promotion; I knew for sure my uneasiness had manifested itself for a reason. My decision was made, and I feel a real peace about it. Thanks for your prayers as I was struggling with the decision.

On to other news:
One day a month or so ago, while brushing and flossing, I noticed that I had dislodged something a bit larger than usual. It also seemed like something a bit harder than your typical strawberry seed or miniscule piece of lettuce. Upon closer examination, I realized that it was, in fact, a part of my tooth! And that I now had a big hole right up the middle of my tooth. It wasn't hurting, but I knew this couldn't be a good thing to happen to my tooth. I also knew there was no way I could afford a trip to the dentist until income tax refunds came in. (The last time, the kindly dentist wanted $300 right then and there, and we HAVE insurance! So we're changing dentists . . . )

Over the weekend, my tooth started to hurt. On Saturday, it was just a dull ache. Yesterday, it became a throbbing pain. Now it is as if someone is shoving a white-hot poker up into my tooth socket, and I'm desperate. BW and I have spent all morning trying to get our "main provider" switched form Mr. $300 Dentist to the new office we've chosen, and we've been waiting for a fax to arrive from our insurance to the new dentist. I may be able to get in in the morning; if not, it will probably be Wed. I'm having a rare moment now, as the three ibuprofuen I've taken have just kicked in, as well as the Anbesol I've been slathering all over my tooth and gums.

So I'll leave you with that, before that invisible poker returns again. Please pray for a clear mind as I care for poor Noodle and Banana as I walk around in mind-numbing pain!

Much love to all of you.