Anatomy of One Crazy Day

I am going to start in reverse order here. I just got a phone call. There was a burly, scratchy voice on the other end. I was in shock to hear his voice, because when I last left him, he was pretty much unconscious. My dad had open heart surgery yesterday at a hospital in Nashville. It was one of the most crazy days of my life thusfar. I told my mom---I may write my first childrens' book yet! It will be called Pappy's Big Day, dedicated to the big hunk of loving guy everyone knows as Pappy!

My day yesterday (Thursday) pretty much blended into the day before. I never got to bed Wednesday night. There was much to do, a sick 6-year old to be tended, and tons of emotions running through me. Sarah had gone to urgent care Wed. night with a bad infection in her ear which came from this croupy coughing virus going around. With the proper antibiotics and pain meds in hand, we prepared to leave in the middle of the night to meet my parents at a Nashville hospital by 5 a.m.

The morning was breathtakingly cold but clear. We found a parking spot and waited on the curb outside for the parents and my brother Doug who were to arrive in a few minutes. The rest of the morning was a crazy blur. They took my dad, prepped him for the surgery, and we got to sit with him about an hour before they took him at 8. He was in high spirits and very, very calm. Two doctors who would be operating came in and gave us the stunning news that they were not going to do the previously-planned bypasses because they just did not feel he was blocked enough in the arteries to require it. They also told us that they had decided to tag-team so that the operation could be done faster and more smoothly than with just the original surgeon. So now we had 3 surgeons instead of one. Dad was fine with that, but a little surprised that they decided so late in the game to bag the bypasses.

As we got back out to the humongous waiting area, someone noted that it was snowing for the first time this year! It was really coming down but it did not stick. Still, it was beautiful to watch and gave us some respite from the monotony of a room with little more than chairs and carpet.

At this particular hospital, it is a little bit like a factory. I would imagine there were 200 people in the huge, no-frills waiting area which also serves as one of the main lobbies to the hospital. There were approximately 20 others having surgeries in different operating rooms, and their progress was posted on a big screen not unlike the schedules in bus and plane terminals. As one surgery would end, the phone would ring or doctors would come out with news, and the family would move to the next waiting room in the inner bowels of the huge complex.

We expected that the surgery could take 4 to 6 hours. We settled in, trying not to fall asleep, because we were now quite sleep-deprived. The small, straight chairs did not lend themselves to comfortable sleep. Some friends stopped in to lend love and support. Several others called our cellphones. That was nice. You really learn who your true friends are (and aren't) in times like these.

Around 11:30, as we visited with our newly-arrived preacher, who has known my dad since they were boys in Columbia years ago, we got the happy news that he was out of surgery and stable. I have to admit that my heart jumped a little when they came out so much earlier than expected. Still, the intolerable time it took us to cross the room was tempered by the funny little French doctor who was grinning ear to ear and had both thumbs up!

It took until nearly 3 p.m., which was much longer than expected, to get the news that we could see him. We had now moved to the more intimate cardiac care waiting room, but I was still a little annoyed by the lack of personal space. All conversations are easily heard by all in the room, and there were quite a few of us in there. The recliner chairs were coveted by all of us who were apparently in the same sleep-deprived boat. Why they even bother to put regular straight chairs in that room, I do not know. Everyone in there is emotionally drained and physically exhausted. Finally, after a longer wait than we had during surgery, we got to see him.

I was prepared for a not-so-pretty sight, but I don't guess anything could have prepared me for the display of awesome technology that was there. Dad had at least 11 different bags of fluid, each containing its own healing powers and lined up in neat little rows on poles, going in through uncountable tubes. I could see at least 3 different ports delivering fluids, and he has wires coming out his chest connected directly to the heart in case he needs some electrical help in the coming days. He was strapped down and covered up, and they had a new kind of heating plastic sheet delivering warmth to his shivering body. It was kind of like a giant blowdryer sending warm air through a plastic pool float covering his entire torso. I managed to find one hand that was squeezable, and I set about to try and get a response out of him.

The nurses wanted us to stimulate him so that he could get his really-low blood pressure up. It was reading about 70/30 when we first got there. The numbers were constantly changing, but by sheer will, we drove the b.p. higher by talking about things that were near and dear to my dad. We told him that he had some work to do if he was going to view the 8 p.m. football game!

After a couple of hours, I was growing concerned, because he was not waking up, and his b.p. was rising very slowly and back peddling at times. He was breathing mostly on his own, but they could not pull the ventilator until he showed that he could sustain breathing well for a period of time without help. Finally, I just kept calling, "Dad, Dad...." until all of the sudden, his eyes shot open. It was a little like a scene from a horror movie, and I jumped about two feet backwards. Then, it hit me that this was good, and I tried to start having him focus and respond.

We had worked out a signal before hand. Knowing he would be strapped down, Dad said he would try to raise one finger for "yes" and two for "no." He was not quite coherent enough to do it. I finally said, "Dad, can you squeeze my hand?" and he gave me the most firm, strong squeeze! I knew then that his brain function was fine, and really, this was when I knew that he was going to come out of this.

He was so doped that he drifted back into sleep, and becoming quite weary from standing bedside for the better part of three hours, Tim and I decided we had better head on home and check on the kids, who were in the care of my 18-year-old son. As soon as we hit the cold outside (which had dipped into the teens at this point) Tim's nose started to bleed and bled pretty much all the way home.

We called and checked on Dad one more time, and satisfied, we went to bed. At three this morning, my eyes popped open, and I could not rest until I called the hospital. I got a great report that his ventilator was now out, he was resting well, and his vitals were excellent. Mom was sleeping in the room and also getting some much-needed rest.

I guess that I did not quite expect that we would be herded like cattle all day yesterday, though the staff was always very nice to all of us. I thought this surgery experience would be a little more personal. Still, I cannot put into words how awed I am by what they do these days. It is simply amazing.

Dad went 66 years without major surgery. He has been so blessed to get this far without the need for surgery. Some cow somewhere did a noble thing by donating a valve, and we are told it can last for around 15 years, usually. We told them my grandfather's pig valve has lasted him nearly 30 years so far! At 86, he well may be one of the oldest living survivors of that procedure with the same valve.

As they say, we are not totally out of the woods yet. But from where I stand today, the forrest looks beautiful, and the gently falling snowflakes over the past couple of days have soothed my soul and given me a much-needed boost of spirit. Getting that unexpected phonecall this morning was WAY COOL! Speaking of cool, it is 9 degrees right now. As my p.j's say, (and to quote a line from one of my favorite holiday movies, Elf, "Baby, it's cold outside." It's o.k. Daddy's girl is grateful to God and one happy camper.

One More Tribute and Prayer Request

My maternal grandmother, Mom, Dad, my paternal grandmother, 1961

Before we leave in the wee hours of the morning to attend the open heart surgery of my dad, I wanted to leave a brief tribute for two of the women who deeply shaped who I am today. My two grandmothers, pictured above with my parents on the eve of their wedding in 1961, were born on December 6 and December 7. My maternal grandmother, born on the 7th, died on December 6th in 1987. My paternal grandmother passed at Thanksgiving two years ago. They were both beautiful women with indomitable spirits, and their impact on my life was huge. I miss them both every day, but I strangely also feel them ever with me. When I am in a tight, I can hear them whispering advice. I know it is just the memories of times spent talking about everything under the sun, and soaking in their sage wisdom. Still, their voices are as clear as a bell when I need their motherly advice. They were such ladies, of the true Southern variety, incredible cooks, and they made us all laugh all the time!

Tomorrow, on the anniversary of "Nanny's" birth, I am sure both mothers will be with us, in our hearts if nothing else (no pun intended). Dad's surgery begins a little after 5:30, and it is expected to last 6 hours. Keep us in your prayers.

"Mammaw" (left) 12-06-21 to 11-22-04
"Nanny" (right) 12-07-04 to 12-06-1987

Twenty Years Ago Today....

"The only difference between the men and the boys is the size of their feet and the price of their toys!"

Happy 20th Birthday, Daniel Evin!!!!!!!!!!!

What does twenty years mean to you? It's two decades...a whole generation. In 1920, my grandfather was born. In 1940, my dad was born. I was a tad late in '62, and then in 1986, I had my firstborn son.

Now he is twenty, and I am feeling old.

I will not bore you with how much I love him and what a wonderful young man he is. You either know him or you don't; you care or you don't.

However, if any young man ever deserved a birthday tribute, Dan is the man!

Once upon a time, there was this mommy who gained 55 lb. in her first pregnancy. Her doctor had a heart attack. (Not literally.)

(Yes, that is my literal tummy.)

After 9 months of ingesting Breyers chocolate ice cream, (which is why the boy loves it so much, she is sure...)

...she endured 18 hours of horrible labor, during which the preacher's wife (bless her soul), who was standing in as her substitute mother for the day, did everything in her power to coerce the baby out. All attempts to urge baby to come naturally failed, and a c-section was performed. Daniel Evin was born at 10:22 p.m. He weighed 6 lbs. 14 oz. and was 20 inches long. His mother woke from her first major surgery and was informed that the girl she was expecting was actually a healthy baby boy! She was in shock, but recovered and took him home.

As all babies do, he grew...

and grew....

and grew...

and grew some more....

(He's the big Lurch-looking guy on the left!)

He did not really change much through the years.

He has always loved music

and football,

and basketball,

(He's the big Lurch-looking guy on the right!)

and wearing his hat the wrong way.

He has always been scholarly...

been a messy eater,

and loved his brother Sam dearly.

Now, her little man is all grown up! The boy who loved his Mama so much now has a new, lovely lady in his life.

He is happy! She is happy! All that makes Mama happy, too! He has made his mother proud, mainly because he is striving to live the life of a Christian.

Speaking of happy...

Have a very, very Happy Birthday, Daniel, and remember I always love you, and I hope you live happily ever after!

The End

Love, Mom

The End of an Era

Last Saturday, an era came to an end. One old car had been in the family since somewhere around 1978. It belonged to my grandmother--my short little spunky Mammaw.

Mammaw, who was only about 4' 9", could be seen putt-putting around her little town, sitting atop a thick phone book, so that her head could just barely be seen over the dashboard. Her hands, dutifully placed at "10 and 2 o'clock" gripped the steering wheel with attitude. Her posture said, "Look out, world, Mammaw's comin' to town!"

She drove that car to see us as kids, and it carried her all the way through my adult life until she gave up driving. It took her over Monteagle Mountain more times than I could count to go to her other home in Alabama, where she loved fishing on the Tennessee River. She really never gave up driving. Her body just gave out on her, and she had to move to the nursing home. The car remained sheltered in her garage.

Mammaw used to go sit in the car sometimes, down in her basement, especially when bad weather came. Every so often, she would have some sort of incident involving the car. One of the last ones was when she ran over a soda bottle backing out of the garage, and the next thing I knew, a police officer was taking a report about a "possible bomb placed in her driveway." Yes, those soda bottles do sound loud when you run over them. It was a good old car, and she somehow managed to keep it running all those years.

My Daniel was born one day before her birthday. It was he who ended up inheriting the car from my brother, who had taken it and kept it after Mammaw passed away. Daniel needed it as he launched out on his own, and it served him well during the time he possessed it. His friends will remember with a smile the boy from Tennessee who showed up in Lexington in that old car, and somehow made it through a winter there purely by the grace of God and the love of friends.

Last Saturday, after a few months of half-hearted attempts to sell the car, a couple with a brand new baby came by and wanted it. It was time for the car to pass to a new family.

It is a bittersweet thing to let this car go. It never has seemed right that Mammaw was not behind the wheel. Riding in the car brought memories of times together with her. It is all still too close.

When I signed the title over to the new owners, the actual mileage on the car was just over 75,000 miles. I would have thought that there were at least a million miles on that old odometer. Ironically (or not), the date of sale was the same day that we laid Mammaw to rest two years ago.

Maybe we will catch a passing glance of the new family tooling around town in a "classic." I hope they paint it and treat it well. I can tell you that, as much of a personality as that old car had, it had nothing on Mammaw. She would have been 85 next Wednesday. It's an understatement to say, "I miss her."

Time for a Wild Ride

I sit here in New Florida (previously known as Tennessee before the great climate change) feeling as though I am in the eye of a hurricane. It is definitely the calm before the storm.

I have no idea how big the "storm" is going to be. I hope it is just a slight sprinkle followed by copious amounts of sunshine. No, I am not worried about the "real" weather, though both rain and snow are in the forecast. The weatherman says we are going to fall hard from the glorious days of Indian Summer that we have been experiencing since the day before Thanksgiving. The poor birds are so conflicted. They don't know whether to stay and chirp or be on their way south. I don't blame them. I really don't know what to do with myself either.

In 9 days, my dad will go in for open heart surgery. They say the procedures are so simple that a 6 year old could do them if he or she was trained. I don't know that I would simplify it that much. They say it will take 6 hours. He is to arrive no later than 5:28 a.m.--no later. Everything is so precise.

Meanwhile, another drama plays out on another stage in another hospital about 1 hour south. It could begin in hours or weeks, but we fully expect that two life-changing events could be happening at the same time. My sister-in-law is 34 weeks pregnant, and as of today, she is 75% effaced. Having had 7 pregnancies, I have some knowledge of these things, and I imagine that, if she behaves herself and doesn't do too much more Christmas shopping, she will probably be having the baby pretty close to the time that Dad is getting a new lease on life.

That's pretty much how these things go, you know. We can't just have one crisis at a time. It gives us patience. We learn how to extreme-multi-task.

I pray that by Christmas Day, the storm is past, and cousins 1-8 are happily playing with their newest cousin, little Emma Elizabeth, as their Pappy looks at the mess of heirs at his feet and smiles. I hope he is strong enough to get up occasionally and wander into the kitchen and give his expert opinion on whether or not the turkey in the oven is done. I hope that Brooke, my sister-in-law, has bounced back quickly from giving birth to a child about 1/12th of her own weight! (She and Emma are both little things!) I pray our brother with a bad case of wanderlust, Don, has made it safely from Germany and is there to complete the gathering of our "little" clan.

Lots of things that generally are priorities this time of year are kind of falling by the wayside. It's times like these that make you realize how silly all of the materialism in the world is in the first place. You can't giftwrap lives.

I walked out in the night air tonight about 10:30, and the smell was different. I think a storm must be coming, but then again, the septic tank may just be acting up again. I feel my life's roller coaster edging to the top, and I have my fingernails dug in, and I am ready to ride. I've forgotten what this particular coaster is like, but I have a feeling I am about to remember very quickly.

Keeping the "Thanks" in Thanksgiving

Remember to keep the "Thanks" in Thanksgiving!
Have a great holiday, all!

I am Thankful For...
... the taxes I pay because it means that I'm employed.

... the clothes that fit a little too snugly because it means I have enough to eat.

... my shadow who watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine.

... a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home.

... the spot I find at the far end of the parking lot because it means I am capable of walking.

... my huge heating bill because it means I am warm.

... all the complaining I hear about our government because it means we have freedom of speech.

... the person behind me in church who sings off key because it means that I can hear.

... the piles of laundry and ironing because it means my loved ones are nearby.

... the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means that I'm alive.

... weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because it means I have been productive.

--author unknown

THE WORLD IS MINE

Today upon a bus I saw a lovely girl with golden hair.
I envied her; she seemed so happy - I wished I were as fair.
She had one leg, and wore a crutch - and as she passed- a smile.
Oh God, forgive me when I whine,
I have two legs, the World is Mine.

And then I stopped to buy some sweets, the lad who sold them had such charm,
I talked to him - he seemed so glad - if I were late 'twould do no harm,
And as I left he said to me: "I thank you, you have been so kind,
It's nice to talk with folks like you, you see," he said, "I'm blind."
Oh God, forgive me when I whine,
I have two eyes, the World is Mine.

Later, walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of blue,
He stood and watched the others play, it seemed he knew not what to do.
I stopped a moment, then I said, "Why don't you join the others, dear?"
He looked ahead without a word, and then I knew he could not hear.
Oh God, forgive me when I whine,
I have two ears, the World is Mine.

With legs to take me where I go,
With eyes to see the sunset's glow,
With ears to hear what I should know...
Oh God, forgive me when I whine,
I'm blessed indeed. The World is Mine.
-- Author Unknown

Baby Huey's Return

Well, all-in-all, it was a very pleasant weekend! My baby (Baby Huey, that is) came home for a brief respite and to help us clean out some junk from storage. We managed to have a few leisurely meals together--the best of which was at Applebee's. Yummmmm! Each of us picked his favorite entre' and then we were sharing bites, appreciating each other's steaks, seafood and pasta. It's a great way to get a little of everything. The girls were beside themselves with glee over big brother being home, but they were equally sad when he announced he had to get back for a couple more days of class before the Thanksgiving break.

My toe is coming along fairly well, I think. It changed from black and blue to red today, so I stepped up the Epson salt soaks and the antibiotic drops a bit. If it is not better by tomorrow, I will surely consult the doctor, because I don't want to have problems over the long weekend. Thanks to those of you who always are so sweet to pray for the boo-boos of our lives.

Sam and Micah are about to finish up a public speaking class they have been doing at church. The last class is next Sunday, and the whole congregation will turn out to hear their final lessons. Sam did not much want to do the class, but he has done just fine with it. He told me that he's the song leader and Dan and Micah are the preachers! :) I told him that every young man can give a short talk and needs to learn how. Churches are in dire straits in a lot of places because there are not enough men to take part in the services.

Anyway, Micah has no fear, which would not come as a surprise to anyone who knows him. Brother Mack, who teaches the class, just shakes his head, laughs and says "That Micah...." That just about says it all. Micah did a great job with his talk on Sunday, using visual aids in addition to shuffling a Bible and notes on a podium that was covered with a lot of other things people were using. He handled it like a pro, and it will be neat to see him give the (hopefully more-polished) talk before the whole congregation next Sunday!

Sunday night, we did our usual "hanging out at Wendy's thing" after the services. This is the first congregation I have seen in a long time where the members move as a unit. (I guess that is called "unity!") Being the clique-hating person I am, I love it that any and all are welcome to come, and most do! When the table gets full, we just shove another table in there! Many of us are a little sick of Wendy's food, but the ability to squeeze all of the congregation who want to come in there without any whining from the management is a big draw. They are always very nice and accomodating to us, and I love the fact that we can share that time together and let our kids be with their peers for a while, too. The men get a few tables together, the women claim another part of the restaurant floor, and the kids take over the back side by the windows. It is a nice way to end the day, and I think it is pretty neat that people who worshipped together all day still want to spend more time together after the services!

I can't believe that Thanksgiving is a couple of days away. I will blink, and it will be Christmas. I am looking forward to a couple of days of downtime with Tim and the family, and I hope that wherever you are that you have a wonderful Turkey Day and some restful time off, too!

Teeth and Toes

(Disclaimer: The right foot on the right is not my own. The image displayed is for illustrative purposes only. If this had been my actual foot, it would have been the left one, and there would be much more blood on the bandage, which bears a very close resemblance to the actual one.)

The week is flying by again, and I guess next week this time, Lord willing, we will be celebrating Thanksgiving. 52 weeks have flown by again, and it really just seems like a short time ago that I was putting away my Christmas decorations. I did buy a big artificial tree last year, because it seemed like I barely got all the pine needles vacuumed up before we were dragging in the next one. Now, I don't have to wait until the weather is right before we put the tree up. It's more like I have to get the boxes of kids clothes out of the den to make room for the tree. I never seem to find an end to finding clothes that need to be donated, taken to consignment, passed down to kids at church, or just mended for our use.

Yesterday and today have been filled with rain, doctors' appointments and, of course, mid-week Bible study last night. Yesterday, I carted all 4 kids off to the pediatric dentist. We looked like a line of ducks parading through the waiting room when they called "Sam, Hannah, Sarah, and Micah...."


Poor Sam's mouth is in trouble again. The child has had endless problems in his mouth every since his enamel went bad as a child. Then, when he was about 11, he fell off his bike and onto his mouth, knocking out one front tooth and breaking off the other. The endodontist put the one back that came out, and he advised us to disturb the teeth as little as possible until he was about 18. Well, he is 18 now. Sam has a lot of restorative work to have done in the coming months. In addition to Sam's work, the dentist dropped the bombshell on us that he thinks Micah needs braces. Micah's teeth are as straight as can be, but he is telling us that he has bite trouble. I plan to check this out thoroughly and see if this is a ploy for more money! Even Sarah, despite the fact that she has had 8 teeth worked on this year, needs two more of the white coatings on her molars. I thought we were done with all the sealants, and then they spring two more on me. Hannah was the only one with no problems at all----yet! I walked out of there with "estimates" for over $5,000 worth of work! Ouch!

Speaking of "ouch," I have been fighting an ingrown toenail for months now. Sometimes, it would seem like I was winning, and then, the pain would start anew. So today, I let the podiatrist have at it! I had my left big toe done some 2 1/2 years after I did the other one. I let the podiatrist numb it and then dig out the edges for ever and ever, hopefully. Acid applied to the nail bed nearly guarantees there will be no more ingrown nails ever, ever again. That is a very good thing, seeing as it is harder and harder to reach my feet each year. I wish I had done them both at the same time now. It is really not so bad (she says while the numbness is still in effect.) Oh well, live and learn!

We had a bit of excitement last night as we went to church. We stopped for some cokes at a local market on the way, and a kid was outside talking to a sheriff's deputy, telling him he had just escaped his kidnapper. We thought the poor guy was looney tunes. Turns out, he wasn't. The story is here if you want to read it. The most ironic part was that the kidnapper made it to within a mile of our house before being captured by police at a little restaurant. I guess the fellow did not think he would stand out with wads of money hanging out his pants and socks from a robbery earlier in the day. Any other night of the week, Sam might have been down there, because we sometimes order take-out from there. I was glad it was church night!

So that's my pretty yucky and "exciting" week in a nutshell. I am really looking forward to some down time next week, vegging out, pigging out, and spending time with family! Be safe if you travel, and please remember to keep my dad in your prayers as he anticipates open heart surgery on Dec. 7th!

The Almost-Forgotten Day

Our recent visit to a battlefield of the Civil War, including a tour of the home that served as a field hospital for that bloody campaign. It is a little hard to ignore the bloodstains on the floor that soaked through the wood over a century ago. The surgeons' tools, that once operated feverishly through the night on hundreds of injured men, now lie sanitized in a glass case. Neatly planted rows of bodies go on and on and on in the acreage outside.

It is so easy to forget, but it is especially easy to forget the things that are not pleasant to remember. War is like that. We haste to forget the horror of it as soon as we can. Yet, there are those who live with the memories every single day. We call them Veterans.

Our Veterans are one of the most forgotten groups on earth. Some lie on beds of affliction for the rest of their lives after "coming home." They faithfully turn out in all kinds of weather to march in yearly parades that are sparsely attended by those they gladly defended. Now that is gratitude!

My paternal grandfather, my father, my father-in-law, two of my brothers, my ex-husband and father of my sons, my husband and father of my daughters, and two of his brothers served in the military. Fortunately, all made it home from their tours of duty. The most recent arrival was Tim's brother Kevin, who made it in from Iraq a night or two ago. We have been fortunate. Not all mothers get their sons home alive.

One of my favorite contemporary sayings is, "If you can read this, thank a teacher. If you read this in English, thank a soldier!" Few of this younger generation even know the extreme sacrifices from the earliest Patriots of our country to those who served in the World Wars, Korea, and Vietnam. We have failed to teach the lessons of history to our children. That is sad.

If it is possible, take your children to a Veteran's Day Parade tomorrow. Find a Veteran or several and thank them for what they have done and are continuing to do for us. The fact that we have not had another attack on American soil since 9-11 is mostly a credit to our military and the preemptive things they have done to thwart the terrorists. Regardless of your opinion on politics and the current controversies, the military men and women have quietly been there, following the orders they are given so that we can all pillow our heads without fear each night. They, over all, are deserving of our gratitude and support! Let us not forget them---ever!

And now, please go here, and give a "Pittance of Time" to our Vets:
Click here to watch "Nov11"

Wednesday's Notes

A Very Necessary Element...Fe = Iron!


So I had been really tired lately, and since I am insulin-resistant, I figured that my blood sugar was acting up again. However, every time I take a reading, it is pretty normal. Next, I tried going to the doctor and seeing if I had some kidney issues, because my back has been hurting. All they manage to find is some ovarian cysts, and of course, they want to do the ovarian cancer test to rule everything out. That does not make you feel too secure, especially, when a dear friend has been diagnosed with it in the last little bit. I was obviously relieved when that came back normal, too. Then [she|littlelamb] announces that she is pregnant again, and I have a momentary shudder, because I think about how tired I was when I was pregnant, especially in my 40's.

Finally, a simple blood test reveals that I am "just" anemic! Isn't it wonderful to get news like that? While I am a lover of babies and kids in general, I think my child-bearing years are hopefully over and I will leave having babies to [his|phoenixsong] generation! Grandkids will be a whole new thrill! :)

So I went to the drugstore and loaded up on some new and interesting vitamin supplements that are supposed to give me tons of energy. I will gratefully accept any change for the better. A home schooling mom---well, really any mom---does not have time to be tired.

One time, I took some stuff with chromium in it, and I felt the best I have in years. After a while, it seemed to stop working, but I am going to try it again.

I have to get pumped for Dad's heart surgery in December. Lord-willing, he is going to have a couple of bypasses and a valve put in on the 7th--Pearl Harbor Day. I am really excited that his heart is going to work right (hopefully) for the first time in his entire life. His dad had the same valve operation in 1976, and he is still going on that pig valve! It was supposed to be replaced again in 10 years, but there has been no need. Dad is going to get one of the bovine variety. Please keep him in your prayers as he mentally prepares for this challenge and goes thru the surgery.

Off to do the never-ending laundry around here.... Have a great day!

Happy Halloween!

My Favorite Halloween Pics of Years Past:

Sarah the Princess on her first Halloween

The Sleeping Princess waiting for her Prince's awakening kiss....

Sarah the Bee 2002

Hannah the Bee, in the recycled costume 2004

Every Dark Knight needs some love.... (Sarah and Micah 2002)

Sam the cool...always cool!

Daniel's head on a platter...disgusting!

And finally, proof that Halloween has gone to the dogs.....

The Measure of a Year

Happy 3rd Birthday, Hannah Faith!

(1. birth 2. first Halloween 3. first Christmas 4. stubborn on the 4th of July 5. Hannah's birth photo, wrapped in my baby blanket 6. first birthday 7. second birthday 8. those eyes! 9. those dimples!

It was reaffirmed to me recently that on this side of heaven, we have a little something called "time." Someday, there will be no more measuring of seconds, minutes, days, years, etc. When we get to that point, it is called "Eternity" from there on out!

On this side of heaven, we are told, one day is with the Lord as a thousand years and a thousand years as one day. Now some people have interpreted that to mean that one day is exactly the same thing as one thousand years with God. I don't buy that. God didn't take six thousand years or 6 million years to create the earth. He took six days.

I think that the point is that, with God, there is no need to count seconds and minutes and days, because God operates out of time and space. He has no beginning and no end. Our little minds cannot even begin to comprehend it, though we try. I will say that I have lived through some days that seemed like they were a thousand years long, and some of them came around the time that my little Hannah, child number five, was born.

I say all of this to lead into my post today in honor of Hannah's third birthday. I simply cannot believe it has been 3 years since she came into the world! The week following her birth was the most turbulent week I have experienced in my life so far, and that is saying a lot! What a week it was! Actually, that week turned into six months, and now, in another blink of the eye, we are at the three-year mark!

Hannah's coming into this world changed my life in so many ways that I can hardly begin to list them. Her birth caused great trauma to my body (which was no fault of hers,) and I have spent the last 1095 days trying to gain some semblance of normalcy physically. It was 6 months before I was even able to take care of Hannah by myself. I was not mentally prepared for a "near-death" experience, and I think I still have some sort of post-traumatic stress deal that occasionally rears its ugly head. (Just ask Tim, who will tell you I cannot stay in hotel rooms that look like my dreadful hospital room that I had for two weeks!)

I also was not prepared for the extraordinary spirit that God would entrust with Tim and me, housed in the child we named "Hannah Faith." I have often quipped that the Lord knew that just anyone could not have handled the 5 spirits he sent me in my children, because other people would have choked them by now! They all possess extremely rare and precious spirits that challenge every moment of my existence in some way. The Lord knew I was up for the test. (You know He never gives us more than we can bear, though at times I have thought I was pushing the limits of my abilities!) For these children, I prayed. And I have made it my purpose to so embrace them, physically, spiritually, and emotionally, that they would have the best shot possible at making it successfully to the other side of the Gulf, where time no longer defines us.

I lay, in the dark hours of the morning, thinking about how much change has come about in this house in the space of one little year. We've lost everything from baby teeth to grandmothers. Daniel, who was present in Hannah's last birthday photo, moved out to begin his own life, got his first "real" job, and moved back to start college--all in the space of this time we call a year. I have gone from shedding tears daily over the dwindling headcount around here to calm acceptance that one child, at least, has come into his own as a man. Somewhere in all of this, it seems like a few lifetimes have passed, but it was really just a sliver of one lifetime.

In this 365-day span, I have probably done another 730 loads of dishes, 1200 or so loads of clothes, and kissed a few hundred boo-boos of all shapes, sizes, and degrees of seriousness. I've gained and lost friends, brethren, family members and pets. I've sadly left one place of worship and happily joined myself to another group of believers. I have achieved some of my goals for 2006, while miserably failing at others. I have thanked the Lord that, at the end of the day, I can still pick up the phone and call my parents and my in-laws, all my brothers and all my sisters, and the ever-expanding pool of nieces and nephews who tickle my soul. I can kiss 4 of my children goodnight and instant message the other one and spend yet a few more minutes listening to the collective hopes, dreams, and prayers of my wards. And when I fall into bed, in whatever hour of the night I finally find sleep, I rest beside my soulmate, the one who gives me huge doses of moral support, laughs and cries with me, and urges me heavenward most enthusiastically of all--just like he promised he would, 8 of those lifetimes ago!

Yes, today, Hannah is 3! One has only to look at her pictures to see the depth of her soul. If the eyes are windows to the soul....then, WOW! Look out! Hannah is in the building! Her daddy calls her 'a destroyer of worlds.' He is just going by what the den looks like at the end of the day with her. I see her future more as a builder-- but of what, I am not sure. Madam President? Nobel Peace Prize winner? Another in a long line of strong women? Just as surely as her female ancestor brazenly took on the Indians at Fort Nashborough, which later became Nashville, with little more than dogs and boiling water, I trust that Hannah will show her challengers the same level of determination, courage, and resourcefulness. What a privilege to be her Mommy and get to watch from a front-row seat as she moves towards the marvelous things the Lord has in store for her!

Birthday Wishes for One Niece, Prayers For the Other!

Happy 2nd Birthday "Baby" Lauren!!!!!

Lauren at just a few months old

Lauren in July 2005

Lauren at the fair this year with brother Ben and sister Kelsey

It is hard to believe that my little niece Lauren is two today! Lauren is a lot like her cousin, Hannah--very active, very bright, and very inquisitive! They are also very serious a lot of the time, but we do occasionally get a smile out of them! Lauren's mommy, Steph, and I compare notes all the time about our October babies! Usually, while we are comparing notes, Hannah and Lauren are climbing to the top of something or coloring our walls in new Crayola colors or disassembling something! If they weren't so sweet, we would probably lose our minds trying to keep up with them!

So, on this, her second birthday, we send happy birthday wishes your way, Lauren, and we look forward to celebrating with you soon!

We would also ask that you keep my other little niece, who is still in her mommy's tummy, in your prayers. Little Emma, baby of Drew and Brooke, is trying to make an early escape. At 28 weeks, it is just not time yet. Hopefully, Emma will be content to keep "baking" and Brooke will be able to keep her in there until an arrival is safe. I saw this picture a while back, and I laughed, because for some reason, when I heard Brooke was pregnant, I had an image of a little girl with red hair! And I don't know how long she is right now, but she only weighs about 2 1/2 pounds, so I know she is still tiny. So please keep baby Emma and her parents in your prayers.