Jack is 3 Years Old (tomorrow)!

My sweet boy is turning 3 (tomorrow).

It's hard to believe...

Yesterday...

Today...

Dear Jack,
I don't know that I can put into words how much I love you - how much joy you've brought to Daddy, Hopey and me. You make me laugh all the time. You remind me that life is to be enjoyed - that I should should stop and we "wowed" by things more often. I'm so proud of you - I'm so excited to watch your life unfold. I can't wait to see you, hug you, talk to you and laugh with you every day. Thank you for all the joy you bring to my heart.

Happy Birthday my beautiful boy - Momma loves you...

She took Classy to a Whole New Level

Kurt was in line at the store.

There was an older woman in line in front of him.

She was purchasing 3 bottles of wine.

She looked a little - ummm.... weathered.

Tough.

Smokey.

Leathery.

Anyway.

The cashier asked her if she'd like a box for the wine.

"Whaddya wanna give me a box for?" was her raspy response.

"I just wanted to help you get the wine home easier" he replied.

She leaned over the counter and sneered, "If ya wanna help me with my wine, crack one of these bottle open and give me a straw."

So classy...

The Appetite Returneth...

We're in line at Costco.

Jack is sitting in the cart holding a container of apples.

He stares at one of the apples in the bunch and says with great aggression,

"I'm gonna eat you apple."

"You and your friends."

I don't have the words...

Jack got sick on Thursday.

I began sharing the story on Friday afternoon.

He was given a clean bill of health today!

Since this littly odyssey started I've had over 250 notes, comments on facebook/blogs, emails and phone calls from people letting me know that they're praying for Jack - and for us.

Some of the people who contacted me were very close friends. Some were family members. Some were people that I haven't seen in over 20 years... Some were from people that I've never met (they were friends of friends).... Some were from friends I've made in the blog world and have never met in person...

I am overwhelmed.

So many people praying...

I cannot begin to thank you all enough. The love that all of you showed to me and my family is something that I will always remember. Something that I will always treasure.

Thank you so very, very much...

Anxiety, Letting Go and Kawasaki's Disease

(If you don't know why I'm mentioning Kawasaki's Disease, read the prior entry to get up to speed on what's been going on with Jack).

Jack woke up this morning and the rash had subsided - there were only a few spots on him and you had to really look to find them.

His fever had dropped to around 99.5.

The swelling in his hands and feet seems to be slowly going away.

I should be happy. I should be thrilled.

But I'm terrified.

I'm terrified that I'm going to take him to the doctor tomorrow - that they're going to look at him and declare him healthy because he no longer shows any of the symptoms of Kawasaki's Disease.

And I'm terrified that they're going to be wrong.

Throughout this experience, I feel like I've stayed pretty even. Like I haven't freaked out or obsessed about anything.

So why am I freaking out now? When things seem to be getting better?

Don't get me wrong.

I don't WANT him to be sick.

I don't WANT him to be hospitalized.

I want the ugliness of the last few days to be over and done.

I want everything to be the way it was before this all started.

But what if they miss something and then he has damage to his heart? (that's the big thing with Kawasaki's Disease - if it goes untreated it will damage his heart. It's the leading cause of heart disease among children).

Maybe I'm just tired... I know that I don't have much perspective right now.

I get so frustrated with myself. Why can't I just be happy? Why do I have to make things so difficult?

I get so irritated with people who just can't be happy - you know - people who are only happy when they're miserable.

When did I become one of those people?

I need to let it go. I need to trust. I need to believe that the doctors know what they're doing. As Kurt told me, "I need to be okay with getting good news tomorrow."

But I don't know how to do any of those things.

I know that I'm not a trained scientist.

I know that I'm not a doctor who specializes in infectious disease or pediatric cardiology.

I'm just his mom.

And I'm terrified...

What's wrong with Jack...

A lot of you who follow Facebook know that Jack is sick.

I wanted to write about it on my blog because, quite frankly, I need to get it out somehow. The stress of the last two days is wearing on me, and writing it all down will hopefully help a little.

On Thursday Jack developed a rash on his stomach and back. I didn't think much of it - I thought it was a reaction from wearing too much sunscreen or something.

By Thursday night he had a low grade fever - nothing too serious.

On Friday morning the rash had faded quite a bit and his fever was gone. So Kurt and I both went to work and sent Jack to daycare.

At about 11 on Friday morning I got a call that Jack needed to be picked up. His fever had returned.

I was shocked when I saw him.

His cheeks, ears and the palms of his hands were dark red - almost purple.

The rash had returned. It was darker and had spread.

His ears looked as though they were starting to blister.

His cheeks were peeling.

His hands were very swollen.

His fever was 102.

We took him straight to the doctor.

The doctor examined him for several minutes and kept asking us if he'd eaten anything new, if we'd starting a new detergent, etc. All No.

She asked to look at his feet and I was suprised to see that they were as swollen as his hands. The bottoms of his feet were as red as the palms of his hands.

She said his throat was "fiery red."

She looked concerned - so of course I was concerned.

I could tell she was not telling us everything. It's very frustrating when you know someone's not telling you the whole story. Your imagination immediately goes to all the dark places. She mentioned that it looks like Kawasaki's Disease - but will have to wait for the test results.

She ordered a bunch of blood work, a throat culture and a chest x-ray.

The doctor told us to take him to urgent care on Saturday if the rash/fever/swelling are still there.

So Friday was a very rough day.

The blood draw was the worst. It took both of us to hold him down. They missed the vein the first time - but were able to find it without sticking him again. But not before Jack vomitted all over himself. It was bad. And they took so much blood! 4 vials and a bottle that looked like a miniature Coke bottle.

Throat culture was negative for strep. Chest x-ray was negative for pneumonia. The doctor called us at about 8:30 last night to let us know that his blood culture was negative for bacterial infections and that his white count was good. The news on his white count was especially good because cancer was a concern.

On Saturday morning, the fever/rash/swelling were all present and accounted for. So off to urgent care we went. The swelling had begun to spread up his legs and there was swelling in his groin as well.

The doctor at the urgent care center told us that everything points to Kawasaki's Disease - but they don't know for sure. Kawasaki's is still very new - they don't know what causes is and the only way they can diagnose it is by ruling everything else out.

She did say that if he still has a fever on Monday - we should plan for a hospital trip.

Kawasaki's is treated with IV antibiotics and asprin therapy.

I don't know much about it - I'm trying to search to much on the internet because my experiences have told me that googling symptoms is NEVER a good idea...

It seems like every couple hours or so something new pops up. Like this afternoon Jack all of sudden fell down and said he couldn't walk anymore. He said his feet hurt. At first I thought he just wanted to be held - but when he wouldn't even walk to the coffee table to get gummi-savers, I knew he really couldn't walk.

Several hours later, his feet broke out in a fresh rash - this one was like blisters - and they hurt to the touch. They were big too - one was about the size of a nickel.

I'm tired.

I'm scared.

I'm frustrated.

I'm not coping well.

I ate almost all of the Easter Candy left in both kids' Easter Baskets.

I keep snapping at Hope.

I keep thinking the worst.

If you have a chance, please say a prayer for Jack.

I'm hoping that Monday holds the answers - but Monday seems so far away...

I think it's Perfectly Normal; Part XXII

I LOVE office supplies.

I can't get enough of them.

You can never have too many office supplies.

So....

My birthday is in November.

I'm just sayin'...

Water Resistant doesn't mean Washer Resistant

I always forget to check pockets when I do laundry.

I pay for it every single time and vow to check them the next time.

And then I forget.

Again.

Tubes of Pink lipstick are the worst.

Except for your husband's flashdrive that has like his entire life's work stored on it.

Yeah....

I'm still paying for that one.

I Think it's Perfectly Normal; Part XXI

I hate the smell of Cheerios.

Well, only Cheerios with milk on them.

Dry Cheerios don't bother me.

But Cheerios with milk?

Seriously.

It makes me gag every time.

Mom's wearin' her kick-butt face...

I get really angry when someone is mean to one of my children.

Seriously. Really angry.

It happened today. A little boy was mean to Jack.

The kid threw a fist full of oatmeal in Jack's face (they were only standing about a foot from each other so it got in his eyes, up his nose, everywhere...)

Jack cried.

I was raging inside and it took every shred of self-control in me to not tear that other little boy's arms and legs off.

Sigh...

Here's the thing.

I know that two things are true:
1. Other peoples' kids are going to be mean to my kids.
2. My kids are going to be mean to someone else's kids (I don't like admitting this but I know it's true).

That's just how things go.

But it still sucks.

I'm still sad that Jack got his feelings hurt.

And I still want to throw a barrel of oatmeal in that little punk's face so he can see how it feels.

Oh to be that carefree...

Hope going after giant bubbles

Jack kickin' it in the swing

Hope going after more bubbles

My kids remind me that life is to be enjoyed.

You wanna be a what?!

(WARNING: This blog post contains images that may be disturbing for younger audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.)

Jack was sitting on our bed looking at books. Out of nowhere he looks up at me and says,

"Momma I wanna be a clown when I grow up."

(for those of you who don't know, I'm unbelievably horrified by clowns)

"Ummm..... no, honey. No clowns - okay?"

"Okay Momma - I'm gonna be a great big clown!"

Oh dear.

Will I have to resort to showing him my clown pictures?

Here is a sample.

(and in case you're wondering, the answer is NO. I'm not really going to show him this picture... I won't lie, I considered it for a second or two - but I'm not really going to do it. So please don't send me hate mail. Thank you.)

I Hate April Fool's Day

Apparently our IT people enjoy April Fool's Day.

Nice...

Inside the Non-Actor's Studio

I have finally accepted the sad fact that James Lipton is never going to invite me to be a guest on his show (Hey, it's HIS loss, right?)...

But, just in case he DOES come to his senses and invite me to be a guest, this is how I would answer his questions. I provided several answers for each question because I'm far to complex to be encapsulated in just a few words.

What is your favorite word?
Momma, Mommy, Mom (you get the idea)
Pontificate
Encapsulate
Profundity
Freakin'
Facebook

What is your least favorite word?
Stool
Moist
Panties
Bowel-Movement
Literally

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
Everything about my husband.
Being accepted.
Being told that I've made a difference.
Comments on my blog (not that I'm dropping hints or anything).

What turns you off creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
Apathy.
Someone rolling their eyes at me.
Smelly smells.
Being sweaty.

What sound or noise do you love?
My kids laughing.
My husband playing his guitar.
Hope playing the piano.
Jack (my two year old) eating a banana.
The words "Previously, on Lost..."

What sound or noise do you hate?
Whining (adult or child).
The sound wet noodles make when being stirred.
Loud chewing.
Someone gulping water.

What is your favorite curse word?
I could list a few but I'm striving for a family-friendly blog.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Writer.
Astronaut.
The person who counts the Oscar ballots (I love the idea knowing who the winners are before anyone else).

What profession would you not like to do?
The person who drives the shuttle from the airport to the offsite airport parking lot.
An employee at Starbucks (just the idea of having to remember the names of high maintenance and neurotic coffee drinkers tires me out).
Cole Miner
Anything that makes you famous (life is hard enough without people hiding in the bushes waiting to get an unflattering picture of you, writing mean stories about you and going through your trash)

What would like you to hear God say when you reach the Pearly Gates?
I'm proud to call you My child.
I love you.
I'm happy to see you.
Your Mom is here and she can't wait to see you. She just baked a white cake with white frosting and is all ready for a chat.
I'm sorry for creating Dora the Explorer and The Backyardigans. Thomas doubted that I could create something that would be completely irritating; Peter was in denial too - so I had to prove them wrong.

Okay - your turn. How would you answer these questions?

My Vice. Well, one of them...

PEEPS!

My love for them is limitless.

I love them fresh.

I love them stale.

I really love them microwaved (no more than 5-8 seconds or you'll have a wicked nasty mess on your hands).

I love them with hot chocolate.

Truth be told, I love almost every kind of Easter candy out there.

But I love Peeps the best.

I'm even an member of the official Peeps Fan Club. I don't hold an Officer's position yet - but it's only a matter of time.

Sigh...

I just love them.

Don't know what ya got till it's gone...

My remote has gone missing.

I appreciate your support during this stressful time.

Beauty from Pain

Yesterday was my mom’s birthday. She would have been 63. For those of you who don't know, she passed away in 2002 from ovarian cancer.

Whenever I talk about her - I always talk about what a close relationship we had. And we did - we really did... But it wasn't always like that.

We struggled for a long time.

We spent a lot of years not understanding each other.
...not appreciating each other.
...fighting with each other.
...hurting each other.

I had many wonderful years with her too...

Years that were spent really getting to know each other.
...learning how to understand each other.
...laughing (and sometimes crying) together.
...loving and forgiving each other.

In the years since her death, I have spent many sleepless nights regretting our earlier years together.

Asking myself why I couldn't see that our time together was a gift.

Why did I choose to be so selfish with my choices? If I had chosen differently, those years would now provide me with good memories instead of bad ones.

But I've learned something...

I’ve learned that I wouldn't trade those earlier years for anything.

I’ve learned that I’m thankful for all of the years we spent together. The good and the bad.

Those years, and the experiences they provided, made me the person I am today.

They serve as a constant reminder that the time we have is fleeting and once it's gone we can't get it back; so we shouldn't waste any of it.

They remind me that the love I have for my family isn't always obvious to them. It has to be demonstrated - constantly - especially where my kids are concerned.

They remind me that whenever I choose to do one thing - I'm choosing not to do something else.

They remind me of what’s important – and what’s not.

They’ve shown me that I have foolishly labeled a lot of things as “important” while neglecting what’s truly important.

They've brought me to a place where I'm actually thankful for the pain we experienced because I can finally see the beauty that came from it.

51 Seconds of Brilliance

Overheard

Jack (who is 2 years old) was playing in his room and I overheard him say,

"I'm sorry, officer."

Hmmm...

I won't lie - I'm a little concerned.

This is inspirational. No.... It's Poetic.

My friend Brandi sent this to me on Facebook and I felt compelled to share it.

I found it to be incredibly awesome.

ShamWow Song (lyrics from Vince Offer) @ Yahoo! Video

Put on Your Big Girl Panties and Deal with it.

(Many of you know this story, but I have been asked to blog about it anyway - so here goes. Also - if you're uncomfortable with the word "panties," you should just skip this post...)

First - let me set the stage for you.

I was just over 8 months pregnant with my daughter Hope.

So just for the record, I didn't look like this pretty, little thing when I was pregnant.



No-no.

I looked more like this "pretty, little" thing when I was pregnant.



And I just need to say something here.

Now I'm sorry if I offend anyone with this statement (and - it has NOTHING to do with how I feel about my children), but I hated being pregnant.

That's right, I said it. I hated it.

Nothing about me was glowing.

There was no cuteness to my waddle.

Nothing looked good on me.

And I couldn't roll over in bed w/o my husband thinking there was a freakin' earthquake.

I was just big, sweaty, smelly and gross.

One thing that amazed me about being pregnant was the number of stupid things people would say to you.

The comment I heard the most (beginning when I was a whopping NINE WEEKS along) was - "WOW, you sure you only got one in there?"

My all-time favorite occurred when I was 5 months along. It came from a gentleman who said

"Hey, that baby's gonna come any minute now, huh?"

To which I quickly retorted, "no - but it looks like yours is!"

I'm not proud of that.

Well, actually I AM proud of that, but I probably shouldn't be.

And of course, there's the time that I wore a new dress to church and one of my non-pregnant friends said to me, "Oh you got a new dress. It's too bad you couldn't find anything flattering."

That one still makes my ears smoke a little...

Oh and let's not forget the whole strangers groping your belly thing - which for me is a BIG problem what with my personal space issues and all.

But I digress.

Getting back to the point of my story...

So I was nearing the end of my pregnancy and my maternity underwear was stretched to its breaking point.

I had to face facts.

I had to deal with the harsh reality.

I needed...... bigger panties.

So I heaved myself into the car and headed to a store that shall remain nameless...

... and began looking for the queen-sized maternity section.

I searched and searched for underwear in my size and finally found a boxed set of them on the bottom shelf. I assyned it was on the bottom shelf because they were concerned that shelves might buckle under the weight of these enormous panties. That - and the fact that the other shelves weren't big enough to hold a box of this size.

I plopped them into the cart and quickly scattered my other purchases on top so that no one would notice that I was buying panties that were big enough to pass as parachutes.

I gathered my courage and headed to the check out line.

I quickly surveyed the scene, and prayed that I would spot a female checker.

At that point, I needed to use the restroom - and given the fact that I was 500 pounds, it took me a little time to get from point A to point B - so I had to hurry and get this done otherwise I wouldn't make it.

There weren't any female checkers who had less than 5 people in their lines.

The only checker that was open was a teenage boy.

Perfect.

Trying to act natural, I put all my items on the belt - with my enormous underpants being last.

Beavis the checker scanned every item without saying a word.

He reached for the box of large-marge panties. He lifted them up toward the ceiling with both hands as though he was trying to guess how much they weighed.

Without making eye contact he said in his squeaky, pimply-faced voice,

"Dude. Those are some big panties."

Thank you, Beavis.

I tried to think of something to say - but came up with nothing.

I left the store without even using the restroom (which proved slightly catastrophic on the way home).

I never saw him again - which was good because I probably would have strangled him with a pair of my big panties.

But I learned something that day.

Pregnancy is not for the faint of heart...

Or the thin skinned...

So if you're pregnant, or planning to become pregnant - keep that in mind.

Now go out there and...

Saturday night - we lose an hour of sleep. Is there no justice in this world?

Don't they know that I get precious little sleep as it is? Do they really have to take one of my hours?

Sigh...

So anyway... Don't forget to move your clocks forward on Saturday night.

If you hear weeping and gnashing of teeth off in the distance, don't be alarmed. It's just me shaking my fist at the heavens in a futile attempt to win back my precious hour.

Prayers for a family...

I generally keep my blog pretty silly. I enjoy laughing – and I want to share that with other people.

But today I want to share something that has been heavy on my heart for several weeks.

Blogs are funny things because they can pull you into someone’s life – without you ever knowing that person. That happened to me with Joel and Jess McClenahan. I’ve never met them – but I came across their blog several weeks ago – and they have been on my mind and in my heart ever since.

They lost their 10 month old daughter to cancer. Her name was Cora. Her battle was fierce – and very fast. She passed away three weeks after the doctors discovered the disease.

She died in early February.

Today is her birthday.

Please pray for this couple. They have an unimaginable faith in unimaginable circumstances.

I’ve been so touched by this family’s journey – in so many ways. Here is the link to their blog.

http://themcclenahans.blogspot.com/

Please keep them in your prayers.

Valentine's Greeting Gone Terribly, Terribly Wrong...

I Think it's Perfectly Normal; Part XX

Ever time I walk through a toy department I walk up and down every aisle pushing the buttons on every single toy that makes noise.