We lost a dear member of the family yesterday. They say that cats have nine lives. We know that we only have one. The Man's car, Bodona (some Portuguese name he gave it. I don't know, so don't even bother asking), had about 13. It still amazes us how many accidents this car has been through. And it just kept on runnin'. The Man bought this Honda Civic after he got home from his mission, and yesterday we had to (finally) say goodbye. He was in a pretty serious accident yesterday, and there is absolutely no chance of recovery for the car. Luckily for us, The Man is doing pretty good. A couple bumps and bruises, pretty stiff all over, but basically okay. It definitely could have been much worse.
He was heading east and the other driver was heading west on the same road. He was in the far right lane, and there was another car in the left lane that had just moved over to turn left. The other driver was waiting to turn left, but apparently couldn't see because of the car next to The Man's. But he decided to go anyway, and turned directly in front of The Man. There wasn't time to swirve or avoid it at all, and he had just a split second to see it coming. He braced himself and thought, "I wonder how bad this is going to be?" It's strange how fast our brains think. He was able to have that thought in just a fraction of a second.
The police came to take a report, cited the other driver and told The Man it was completely the other guy's fault. The Man called me and told me not to worry, that he was fine, but it was pretty bad. Of course, I was terrified, but glad to be getting the phone call from him, rather than some stranger telling me that he was in the hospital or something. I found out where he was, and by the time I arrived, the policeman was just leaving, and the tow truck was hauling off both cars. On my way over I said a prayer to let Heavenly Father know how grateful I was that the accident wasn't any worse than it was. I was so thankful that he was still alive. And then I started to cry, thinking about how common it is for people to just be having a normal day, when tragedy strikes.
I just woke up that day, and fixed breakfast like every other day. I hadn't even seen in him that morning (as I never do) since he leaves so early. The girls and I got dressed, and I went to the gym. We got back and I hopped in the shower, got myself ready, and started to make lunch. I had carpool that day and dropped four little ones off at preschool. We came back and I put Devil Child down for a nap. Everything was normal. And then he could have been gone, and our whole lives would have changed. I thought about those kids on the school bus in Alabama, who were also having a "normal day," and thought they were just on their way to class. Their families had no idea their lives were about to change forever. It happens too often, and I'm not prepared for something like that. I guess you can't ever be prepared for something like that.
It's been said that we are only given challenges and trials that Heavenly Father knows we are strong enough to handle. He will never give us something more than we are able to overcome. I'm thankful He knows I am strong enough to lose a car, but that I am very weak, and could not be strong enough to lose my husband.
Again, sorry there's no pictures. If I find a way to get them from The Man's phone to the computer, I'll add them to this post another day.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Down for the Count
I've had a hectic week, and it's only Wednesday. Not complaining, just sayin'. I took a job yesterday for my sister's firm and ended up working ALL day. Something just isn't right when you have to get up at 6:30 in the morning to be on time for a 10:00 deposition. It's one thing to have to get yourself ready to go to work. It's another to have to get yourself ready, two uncooperative and tired girls ready, make breakfast, pack a bag with snacks, extra clothes (just in case), blankies for naps, and movies for something to do for the kids since you'll be gone all day, and get them to the babysitter's house in time for you to leave and travel downtown in traffic to go to work. Then the witness didn't show up for almost an hour and a half. I could have slept in. Or at least made my hair look fabulous instead of just decent.
The job was okay, except for the fact that at 1:00 when we broke for a half-hour lunch, I was informed we may be going until 6:00 that night. Great. I told the babysitter I'd be back to pick the girls up by 3:00 or 4:00. Now I won't be home until almost 7:00. Better make some phone calls. Oops, left my cell phone at home. I hate that. I called my sister to see if she would pick the girls up for me or work something out with The Man. Luckily he was able to leave work at 4:00 and have the girls picked up by 5:00. Only an hour later than we were supposed to be there. I came home tired and thankful for a sweet husband, who had to immediately head out the door for his appointment to get his hair cut. After he's gone I finally get a chance to sit and think. "Did the girls have dinner, or are they starving?" I can't get a definitive answer out of them, so I call The Man, only to find out he fixed them frozen waffles for dinner, which is fine with me, it just happened to be what I fixed them for breakfast that morning. Oh, well. I was just glad I didn't have to cook. Ah, the life of a working mom. I knew there was a reason I stopped doing this.
The past two nights Devil Child has not slept much, which means none of us have slept much. Can't figure out the problem. She goes down just fine, but can't stay asleep. And when she wakes up, she's completely hysterical and it's near impossible to calm her down. She only seems to be okay when we sit right next to her and are touching her. She's obviously exhausted since she drifts off to sleep within seconds of us laying her back down and holding her hand or stroking her face. But just about 15-20 minutes after leaving the room, she's up again and screaming her head off. Is it nightmares? Is she afraid of the dark or being alone? Is she getting sick? No fever, but getting sick is my best guess. I tell The Man the flu has been going around like crazy, and she's probably going to get it. We try to get some sleep, but I was up two more times with my Devil Child crying, and two more times with Miss Priss crying. What is going on here?
Then this morning Miss Priss wakes up crying (again) and telling me she has a headache and doesn't feel well. After puking her guts up, I settle both girls down on the couch for some cartoons. Miss Priss is asleep again by 7:45. It's going to be a long day. I did fit in a shower, but that's about it. Luckily today was the day I had scheduled for the repairmen to come fix some things around the house, so I was going to have to wait around for them anyway.
Miss Priss took another nap this afternoon, but our Devil Child seems to be rejecting sleep altogether. Her nap was a mere 45 minutes (as compared to her usual blissful 3 hours), and she's been crying all day. Neither of them are eating, which is never a good sign. Then again, they don't really have reputations of being "good eaters" anyway. Now I just need to get some sleep so I can actually concentrate on the 200-page transcript I'm determined to have finished before we leave next week for Utah. I will NOT work while on vacation. But first, I'm off to finish the six loads of laundry that have been waiting since last week, make dinner, and get the girls in the tub. Ah, the life of a stay-at-home mom. Yes, we all know the good times far outweigh the pitfalls, but for cryin' out loud, the pitfalls suck.
On a happier note: The baby's been kicking. I love it. The Man often wonders what it feels like. Last night when he asked, I took two fingers and alternatingly tapped lightly and quickly on his leg.
"Like this, but on the inside."
"Cool."
The job was okay, except for the fact that at 1:00 when we broke for a half-hour lunch, I was informed we may be going until 6:00 that night. Great. I told the babysitter I'd be back to pick the girls up by 3:00 or 4:00. Now I won't be home until almost 7:00. Better make some phone calls. Oops, left my cell phone at home. I hate that. I called my sister to see if she would pick the girls up for me or work something out with The Man. Luckily he was able to leave work at 4:00 and have the girls picked up by 5:00. Only an hour later than we were supposed to be there. I came home tired and thankful for a sweet husband, who had to immediately head out the door for his appointment to get his hair cut. After he's gone I finally get a chance to sit and think. "Did the girls have dinner, or are they starving?" I can't get a definitive answer out of them, so I call The Man, only to find out he fixed them frozen waffles for dinner, which is fine with me, it just happened to be what I fixed them for breakfast that morning. Oh, well. I was just glad I didn't have to cook. Ah, the life of a working mom. I knew there was a reason I stopped doing this.
The past two nights Devil Child has not slept much, which means none of us have slept much. Can't figure out the problem. She goes down just fine, but can't stay asleep. And when she wakes up, she's completely hysterical and it's near impossible to calm her down. She only seems to be okay when we sit right next to her and are touching her. She's obviously exhausted since she drifts off to sleep within seconds of us laying her back down and holding her hand or stroking her face. But just about 15-20 minutes after leaving the room, she's up again and screaming her head off. Is it nightmares? Is she afraid of the dark or being alone? Is she getting sick? No fever, but getting sick is my best guess. I tell The Man the flu has been going around like crazy, and she's probably going to get it. We try to get some sleep, but I was up two more times with my Devil Child crying, and two more times with Miss Priss crying. What is going on here?
Then this morning Miss Priss wakes up crying (again) and telling me she has a headache and doesn't feel well. After puking her guts up, I settle both girls down on the couch for some cartoons. Miss Priss is asleep again by 7:45. It's going to be a long day. I did fit in a shower, but that's about it. Luckily today was the day I had scheduled for the repairmen to come fix some things around the house, so I was going to have to wait around for them anyway.
Miss Priss took another nap this afternoon, but our Devil Child seems to be rejecting sleep altogether. Her nap was a mere 45 minutes (as compared to her usual blissful 3 hours), and she's been crying all day. Neither of them are eating, which is never a good sign. Then again, they don't really have reputations of being "good eaters" anyway. Now I just need to get some sleep so I can actually concentrate on the 200-page transcript I'm determined to have finished before we leave next week for Utah. I will NOT work while on vacation. But first, I'm off to finish the six loads of laundry that have been waiting since last week, make dinner, and get the girls in the tub. Ah, the life of a stay-at-home mom. Yes, we all know the good times far outweigh the pitfalls, but for cryin' out loud, the pitfalls suck.
On a happier note: The baby's been kicking. I love it. The Man often wonders what it feels like. Last night when he asked, I took two fingers and alternatingly tapped lightly and quickly on his leg.
"Like this, but on the inside."
"Cool."
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Breakfast, Anyone?
So we've been doing some rearranging in bedrooms since the news of our baby boy. Miss Priss is now in a twin bed, and Devil Child is out of the crib and into the toddler bed. (I know, way overdue.) Still in separate rooms for now. We figure they need a month or two getting used to their new beds before we dare put in them in a room together. Devil Child has surprised us each night by actually staying in her bedroom. And for the first week or so, she actually wouldn't even come out in the morning until I went in to get her. It was really cute. I could hear her talking in the early morning hours, but I wouldn't go in until about 7:30 or 8:00, and there she would be, still lying in her bed.
We've got a lot of changing to do in the baby's room to get it ready for a boy. We'll take down the pink flower ceiling fan and replace it with a white one; we need to get new bedding for the crib and new drapes now since pink and purple butterflies and flowers won't really work anymore. I'd like to paint the baby's room and the girls' room. It's going to be a lot of fun and SO different getting ready for a boy.
Miss Priss has been growing up so fast lately. I am so exhausted in the mornings, it's hard for me to get out of bed when she does, and she's been doing a great job of not bugging me. She'll ask if she can watch cartoons or have an apple or a yogurt, and then head downstairs and help herself. I just love that she asks. But about a week ago, there was no asking for anything, and no sounds of her even being up and about. I dragged myself out of bed and checked the bedrooms first. Miss Priss was gone, and Devil Child was still in her bed. I picked her up, changed her diaper, and we headed downstairs. Miss Priss was waiting for us as she eagerly announced, "I made waffles!"
I looked over into the kitchen to find she had somehow gotten the frozen waffles off the top shelf in the freezer (not too hard), popped them into the toaster (didn't know she knew how to work that), and had climbed up on the counter to get three little plates down (off of the highest shelf in the cupboard!). There were our waffles, one on each plate, sitting on the counter and getting cold. Should I have been upset that she got into things she shouldn't have, or glad that she's now capable of actually making breakfast for her and her sister while I can get more sleep? Honestly my first thought was, "Thank goodness she didn't go for the syrup."
My little baby has come a long way since the days of me waking up to find craft paint all over the living room ottoman, makeup covering her face, a head drenched in lotion, or the time I found her sitting in her room licking peanut butter off of a five-inch CutCo butcher knife. Or so I thought.
This morning she came into my room to ask if she could have a yogurt. Now, I knew Devil Child was up, too, and would have to have whatever her big sister was going to have. I also knew that she would make a huge mess eating a yogurt all by herself, which I don't mind, but I knew I wasn't awake enough to be there to clean her up, which meant she would get down from the table with yogurt all over her hands and face (and probably all in her hair, too), and touch who-knows-what in my nice, clean house. On the other hand, I went to bed last night at 8:00 due to a raging migrane, which still wasn't gone. I was NOT getting out of bed yet. So who cares that I was going to have to clean up a little yogurt off the walls and the carpet?
I drift back to sleep, sort of, and when I again open my eyes, I hear ... nothing. No cartoons on, no fighting or screaming, no laughing or playing. Crap. What are they doing? So I head downstairs to check out the damage, hoping against all hope that my "responsible" four-year-old has been making breakfast and taking care of her baby sister. Too much to ask? Of course. I find them huddled together on the kitchen floor. There are tiny red balls everywhere. What in the world? When they hear me, they startle as they turn around. SOOOOO guilty. They've found the Halloween candy, and helped themselves for breakfast.
Miss Priss has a chocolate ring around her mouth. And my sweet little Devil Child has yogurt (now dried) all over her face and hands that has helped the Nerds (those little red balls I saw all over the floor) stick to her cheeks, chin and fingers. Oh, and a sucker hanging out of her mouth. Should I have taken a picture? Of course I should have. But remember that I have a headache and morning sickness (which has suddenly come back this week). So I pick her up and put her straight into the sink where I remove her pajamas and begin to wipe her up while ordering Miss Priss to clean up the rest of the candy.
As I retell the story, I think of the slight disappointment I felt in Miss Priss. Here I thought she was "growing up," and becoming more able to make better decisions. And then I think of the sadness I'll have when she really does grow up. And I'm grateful, once again, that she's just a toddler, and still my little girl.
***Sorry for the lack of pictures, but I'm sure you can all imagine the scene.***
We've got a lot of changing to do in the baby's room to get it ready for a boy. We'll take down the pink flower ceiling fan and replace it with a white one; we need to get new bedding for the crib and new drapes now since pink and purple butterflies and flowers won't really work anymore. I'd like to paint the baby's room and the girls' room. It's going to be a lot of fun and SO different getting ready for a boy.
Miss Priss has been growing up so fast lately. I am so exhausted in the mornings, it's hard for me to get out of bed when she does, and she's been doing a great job of not bugging me. She'll ask if she can watch cartoons or have an apple or a yogurt, and then head downstairs and help herself. I just love that she asks. But about a week ago, there was no asking for anything, and no sounds of her even being up and about. I dragged myself out of bed and checked the bedrooms first. Miss Priss was gone, and Devil Child was still in her bed. I picked her up, changed her diaper, and we headed downstairs. Miss Priss was waiting for us as she eagerly announced, "I made waffles!"
I looked over into the kitchen to find she had somehow gotten the frozen waffles off the top shelf in the freezer (not too hard), popped them into the toaster (didn't know she knew how to work that), and had climbed up on the counter to get three little plates down (off of the highest shelf in the cupboard!). There were our waffles, one on each plate, sitting on the counter and getting cold. Should I have been upset that she got into things she shouldn't have, or glad that she's now capable of actually making breakfast for her and her sister while I can get more sleep? Honestly my first thought was, "Thank goodness she didn't go for the syrup."
My little baby has come a long way since the days of me waking up to find craft paint all over the living room ottoman, makeup covering her face, a head drenched in lotion, or the time I found her sitting in her room licking peanut butter off of a five-inch CutCo butcher knife. Or so I thought.
This morning she came into my room to ask if she could have a yogurt. Now, I knew Devil Child was up, too, and would have to have whatever her big sister was going to have. I also knew that she would make a huge mess eating a yogurt all by herself, which I don't mind, but I knew I wasn't awake enough to be there to clean her up, which meant she would get down from the table with yogurt all over her hands and face (and probably all in her hair, too), and touch who-knows-what in my nice, clean house. On the other hand, I went to bed last night at 8:00 due to a raging migrane, which still wasn't gone. I was NOT getting out of bed yet. So who cares that I was going to have to clean up a little yogurt off the walls and the carpet?
I drift back to sleep, sort of, and when I again open my eyes, I hear ... nothing. No cartoons on, no fighting or screaming, no laughing or playing. Crap. What are they doing? So I head downstairs to check out the damage, hoping against all hope that my "responsible" four-year-old has been making breakfast and taking care of her baby sister. Too much to ask? Of course. I find them huddled together on the kitchen floor. There are tiny red balls everywhere. What in the world? When they hear me, they startle as they turn around. SOOOOO guilty. They've found the Halloween candy, and helped themselves for breakfast.
Miss Priss has a chocolate ring around her mouth. And my sweet little Devil Child has yogurt (now dried) all over her face and hands that has helped the Nerds (those little red balls I saw all over the floor) stick to her cheeks, chin and fingers. Oh, and a sucker hanging out of her mouth. Should I have taken a picture? Of course I should have. But remember that I have a headache and morning sickness (which has suddenly come back this week). So I pick her up and put her straight into the sink where I remove her pajamas and begin to wipe her up while ordering Miss Priss to clean up the rest of the candy.
As I retell the story, I think of the slight disappointment I felt in Miss Priss. Here I thought she was "growing up," and becoming more able to make better decisions. And then I think of the sadness I'll have when she really does grow up. And I'm grateful, once again, that she's just a toddler, and still my little girl.
***Sorry for the lack of pictures, but I'm sure you can all imagine the scene.***
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Can I Get a Drum Roll, Please
It was the sterotypical trip to the doctor's office. Miss Priss was in school and I found a friend at home to watch Devil Child so there would be no distractions. The Man left work and met me at the doctor's office at quarter after noon, so we would be there a few minutes early because, you never know, there could be a slight chance they might be taking people in early. Early? What was I thinking? We signed in and sat down. Half an hour goes by. We'll be in any time now. Everyone who was in the room before us has been taken back. We're next. Nope. People who started coming in AFTER us are being taken back. What the? We hear an overhead page for my doctor letting him know that the hospital is on the phone for him. Wonderful. What does that mean? Is he going to have to leave NOW to deliver a baby or something? An hour and a half later I told them I couldn't hold it anymore, and if they needed a "sample," I was going to have to give it now. They allowed me back to use the restroom, and then I took my seat again.
A few minutes later they called my name, and we went in the back. First stop, the dreaded scale, of course. Halleluyah, not even one extra pound for all the junk and Halloween candy I've been living on for the last four weeks. Whew!!! I guess the gym is doing some good. Blood pressure, normal, and back to the ultrasound room. The nurse came in first to get started checking things out before the doctor could get in. I immediately looked at the nurse and asked, "Are you going to be able to tell what it is today?" She said she'd try. Then I turned to The Man and said, "Honey, please don't cry if it's a girl, okay?" He assured me he wouldn't.
After some poking and prodding, we got a nice view of our little baby's "goods." And we could see right away. I was in shock, and The Man was up out of his seat. "Are you serious? Oh, my gosh! I can't believe it! Finally! Whoo Hoo!!!"
The nurse said someone would be in to confirm, but she was pretty sure it was a boy. There was no denying there was "something" there. Isn't it grand how we publicly display the most private parts of our fetus? The Man took the pictures to work to show EVERYONE, and it now hangs up on our refrigerator for all to see. Poor little guy. I guess your privacy only matters once you're here.
So we're having a boy, and we're ecstatic. In the words of The Man, "It's like being pregnant again for the first time!" I'll admit, I'm not AS excited as he is, but it is going to be so great to have a son. I'm excited for all the new things I've never gotten to experience, having two girls. I can't wait for the times when our little boy and his daddy get to go camping on Father & Son outings, or to see the two of them outside playing baseball or football. I've always said there's a special bond between a daddy and his little girl, but there's also just something about a father and his son. How grateful I am that we are going to get to experience both.
Miss Priss was a little disappointed when we gave her the news that we could NOT name this baby Butterfly Flower. I didn't realize how much she had her heart set on that one. So after breaking it to her that we had to pick a name for a BOY, she thought for a minute and then said, "I know! Dash! Dash is a boy's name. Just like on The Incredibles!" Okay. Definitely a name to think about. Any other suggestions?
The sickness is gone, the belly is here, the feet are already swelling off and on, and it's all totally worth it. I'd do it all a million times over if I had to, just for the chance for these tiny, sweet spirits to come bless our home. What an amazing gift we have been given. We are so blessed.
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