If your kid gets sick...go anyway, right?

This happened some time ago, but I thougth it was worth sharing...
One of the struggles of parenthood is deciding whether or not to cancel plans based on a child's potential illness. On the morning of our planned departure to Seaside, Oregon, Addison woke up with a fever. Do we cancel? No,we decide to pack her up and head south. After all, a sick baby at home is the same as a sick baby on the road, right? Not exactly! Poor baby fussed much of the way there, so my mom finally drove and I sat in the back seat with her. Once there - we thought we were in the clear, but I think she missed her bed because she was up constantly both nights... and frequently hot and miserable. On the second night, Zach fell out of the bed once and Raymond had an accident so they all eventually ended up in bed with me! No problem, I wasn't sleeping anyway! Are you laughing at me yet? Just wait! Our stay was actually quite nice, so when Addison woke up the morning we were to leave, we held our breath. No worries, she was in a pretty good mood, so we thought the drive home would be uneventful. Zachy thought otherwise! First of all, he was tired from the previous nights fall from grace, or I mean bed!... and the ensuing meltdown so he was crabby to say the least. So, when he started bawling just as we started over the bridge from Oregon to Washington, I got a little upset with him and threatened to pull the car over and spank him if he didn't stop. Well, he stopped - right after he threw up all over the back seat! For a minute, I thought there might be a chain reaction (did I mention I was already car sick from an attempt to retrieve a pacifier from the floor of the back seat, while on a very windy road). We finally got a cross the bridge and found a gas station to stop at and try and "clean up"... yes, that's in quotes because there really is no cleaning up after such an episode. It was a stinky drive, the rest of the way home. Just to be safe, we moved Zach up, next to Addison, so Raymond wouldn't have to smell him all the way in the back - yes we did change his clothes, but it just wasn't coming out of the hair so easily... and my little angel boy, that little Zach Attach waited until we were on 176th street, almost home, and he erupted again - so that makes two (or 2.5 actually) seats that are now in need of a serious cleaning. Maybe if I can get Kevin to drive my van, he'll agree that I need to get that interior detailed. I've been hoping to have it done for awhile, anyway. It really was a good trip - minus the going and the coming - and my dear mother was most helpful and cheerful through it all, bless her heart.

She walks!

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

OH, Baby girl!

I remember growing up being somewhat of a klutz. In fact, my dad always called me "Grace". I always thought my boys would be more accident prone, especially our little Zach Attack. But it seems that our sweet baby girl has inherited that particular trait. Coincidentally, we named her Addison Grace! - like mother, like daughter! Seriously, this girl is one tough cookie! I could go on and on about the many times she's gotten hurt and just sort of looked at us with that little distressed look -for about half a second -and went right on playing. Since she has been mobile, she has managed to hurt herself way more than either of my boys did at this age. Let me share 2 of the biggies. Well, one biggie and one somewhat smaller, but still significant to mommy.

THE BIGGIE

While on vacation several weeks ago, she brought a glass table top down on her chubby little hand. Now, before getting all worked up and calling CPS, unless I had been following her step by step, it couldn't have been stopped. She pulled herself up onto one of those unstable, round, patio tables and somehow managed to dislodge the glass on top and all but slice her right ring finger off just below the nail bed. Kevin thought I was over reacting until we took a close look at it and realized what we were seeing was the bottom of the nail... you know, the part normally under the skin... so off the the ER we go and several shots (guess who got to hold her down!) of anesthetic and several stitches later, she was bandaged practically to her elbow. Oh, did I mention she managed to break it and the nurse tried to tape a splint on, but she kept pulling it off - hence the overkill on the tape job. Poor kid - tough to crawl with a soft cast on your hand! She's a trooper though and managed nicely. 6 weeks later, it is looking relatively good - note: relatively. I'm still not convinced it is ever going to look normal, but Kevin seems to think it will.

THE NOT SO BIGGIE

What prompted me to write is the more recent event, which has confirmed the fact that my girl is going to be less a girlie girl and more of a rough and tumbler. She's already getting in the middle of wrestle-day with the boys, but that's a story of it's own...As I mentioned, she is walking, albeit, somewhat precariously... well, in her little, jammy covered feet, she doesn't have great traction. In an apparent effort to come visit me in the kitchen, I can only imagine (I had my back turned until I heard a sickening thud) she slipped and whacked her head right on the corner of the island. Oh, baby girl!! I have never seen a "bump" grow so quickly or turn quite that shade of blue. She looked like Frankenstein! - so I panicked. I was sure she must have a concussion. Sure that her eyes were too dilated... but Kevin was right this time, I over reacted. In minutes, with some help from an animal ice pack that somebody gave us years ago and I never thought I'd use... the swelling came down, but that beautiful shade of blue stayed for a day and is currently the biggest, uglies bruise I ever hope to see on my sweet baby girl again.

You don't know how good you got it

This morning, I woke up extra tired... Addison is still not sleeping through the night and I must have slept wrong, because my back and neck hurt. It's Sunday, so I knew I had to get up and make the kids some breakfast before we got ready and headed off to church. The sky was overcast and my spirits were a bit low, I was grumpy. I listened to the sermon, but my heart wasn't really in it and so I came home, put the kids to bed and thought I'd be a bit indulgent and spend some time doing something I wanted for a change. I looked again at my newly minted blog site and thought perhaps I'd spend my afternoon working on it when it occurred to me there was someone else's site I had long meant to look at and never had.
So, I spent my afternoon reading somebody elses' blog. Not just anyone, but Pastor Paul Kwon's blog. He and I have only met on occasion, but his wife and I have become friends since our boys, Raymond and Jeremy became fast friends in kindergarten. I have talked frequently with his wife Sun Young over the past 6 months, since his sudden diagnosis with acute leukemia, but I had not, until today, read his story in his own words. It almost brought me to tears. Thank you so much Bro. Kwon for choosing to document your journey for the rest of us to read. It humbled me so completely and reminded me so intently of how fortunate we all are, how truly blessed I am. Even when times seem tough, there are surely others who suffer more. But by the grace of God, there go I...

We are who we love

We've lived in the house that my dad built for a year now and it has been just over 4 since he passed. Every day that I come "home" I can't help but think of him and miss him. A friend of mine told me once that it never gets easier, just different. There is a difference... now I can think about him, all the memories we've created and smile. I see him every where: in the perimeter fence that he and Kevin spent long, grueling hours putting up, the wild ducks that fly from his pond in the spring, the occasional glimpse of "his mountain" that I get from the kitchen window in the winter and especially the grapes growing down by the gate. In the year plus that my dad was sick, and in the time since, watching that grapevine grow has not failed to tug at my heart. I would often stop on my way in the gate for a visit and try to get them to grow where they were suppose to.
Yesterday, I climbed a tall ladder and finally wound those vines around the cables that my dad had years ago put in place for them to climb on. There was nothing magical about it and it only took a few moments, but in doing so, I did something my dad would have done, had he still been here. There are so many things that he would have done that I and my family are now doing. All are gentle, daily reminders of him. Maybe that's why I love this place.
As I stood in thoughtful contemplation, I wondered if that grape will ever make it over the cross bar, to the other side. I wondered if I had finally made it to the other side of my grief. Kevin has said, on occasion, that he would have done that crossbar differently...he would have used another railroad tie and match the supports. I never did get to ask my dad why he didn't... why he used the log that is still in place. Indeed, Kevin and I frequently look at each other and say, "Why on earth did he do that?" So many unanswered questions. Still, the only thing missing is a sign hanging from that crossbar. I've long been of the opinion that "The Funny Farm" would be a fitting name for this place. Here, where my folks and my brothers with all their crazy antics and all of our families have congregated since becoming adults. I have thought more than once of buying my folks such a sign to hang. After all, this has occasionally been a farm and always a place I would come to laugh.