The Gift of Pain - Chapter 4

For Chapters 1-3 of My Story - The Gift of Pain, click on the link at the right.


Finally, I had been seizure-free for six months and I headed to the DMV to renew my license. I was heady with excitement and talked for days about all the places I would go when I once again had my independence.

I filled out the forms, and handed them over with a smile. My joy was short-lived when I was denied my renewal because of forms that had been incorrectly submitted by my doctor. I felt so desperate that I literally stood at the counter of the DMV sobbing and begging. The lady apologized and said her hands were tied. I would have to return once my paperwork was in order.

Another four months passed. I filled out forms, received doctor’s clearances and jumped through hoops. Finally, on July 16, 2004, I took the written test for the State of California Department of Motor Vehicles and I passed! The huge smile on my driver’s license said it all. I had my freedom back.

When I drove the car home, my family was waiting at the curb for my arrival.  My children and family wept with me, thanking God for answered prayers.  That evening I got in the car by myself, cranked up the stereo and drove for hours along the California coast. It was truly one of the happiest days of my life.

I decided to have a celebration party. Steve said he would cook and asked how many people to expect. I told him around thirty and started calling everyone I knew. That Saturday, we threw a party. At the final count, eighty people showed up to celebrate with us.

I had them take the written test for the DMV to see how many of them would pass.  Trust me, it's harder than you think!  I studied hard to pass that sucker.  I wanted to take the time to thank God for his healing and thank my family and friends for their support and prayers. I would not have made it those years without them. Little did I know how much I would lean on their support and prayers in the years that followed.

(Yes!  These are all their children, with a few missing!  We miss you Pryer Family!)

At the time, my brother-in-law owned a vintage VW Beetle. I had my friends pose in the car as a memento of that incredible day. I know the pictures are grainy and everyone looks a bit creepy with red-eye, but these pictures make me smile.

Life returned to normal, with my seizures in check, and I began to enjoy life more than ever. I started up a small purse design business, named Jenny and Lucille (the precursor to Jenny and Pearl) with my dear friend Doneanne.

Doneanne is one of the most creative people I have ever met and it was such a joy working with her. (Congrats to you, dear friend and your handsome hubby as you look forward to baby #4!)

Every week we would load up the van with our pop-up tent, tables, and product and head to the Huntington Beach Pier for the weekly craft show.  We loved coming up with new designs and the feedback from our customers at home parties and boutiques was very rewarding.  That period of time was a wonderful reprieve and shored me up for the challenges ahead.

Steve had been suffering from pain and pressure in his left arm for a while. We weren’t too concerned but took him to the doctor to have it checked out. They did some blood work and had him run a stress test. Everything came back normal and they sent him home, saying it was a touch of the flu or a pulled muscle.

Thursday, January 12, 2006 was a beautiful sunny day. I was out shopping when my brother called, asking if he could pop by our house to pick oranges off the tree. I told him I would meet him there and in the early afternoon I pulled up to the house, surprised to see Steve’s car in the driveway.

I went in the house and found Steve lying in bed. He was sweating profusely. I was immediately concerned and told him we needed to get him to the doctor.   He argued with me, claiming they would just send him home again like they had previously. All he wanted to do was take a nap, certain he would feel better when he woke up.  My brother and I stepped out and talked about Steve's condition. Something just wasn’t ‘right’ and we agreed that, if Steve wouldn’t go to the doctor, we needed to call 9-1-1.

Back in our room, Steve was struggling to breathe. I grabbed the phone and dialed emergency. Thankfully, there is a fire station just a stone’s throw from our house and within seconds, I could hear the siren in the distance.

Aspies and Wookiees

This is me with my boy.

He is my #1 fan (he wanted you to know this).   He is also funny and smart - voted Most Likely to Become President, say what!?

Did I mention, he is sweet, handsome and has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome and ADHD?  Yes, if you are wondering, I did ask him if it was okay to share this with you.  He said, "Sure mom, thanks for asking!" (That's my boy!)

This is the definition of Asperger's, according to the world-renowned Mayo Clinic.

Asperger's syndrome is a developmental disorder that affects a child's ability to socialize and communicate effectively with others. Children with Asperger's syndrome typically exhibit social awkwardness and an all-absorbing interest in specific topics. 

Doctors group Asperger's syndrome with other conditions that are called autistic spectrum disorders or pervasive developmental disorders. These disorders all involve problems with social skills and communication. Asperger's syndrome is generally thought to be at the milder end of this spectrum. 

Sam is definitely on the milder end of the spectrum.  He looks like every other 12-year-old boy (except he's cuter!)  But those who know him best, his teachers and family, are aware of his 'Aspies' tendencies that can often cause frustration, confusion and affect his relationships, as well as his performance in school.  This diagnosis will allow us to access all of the incredible resources and programs that are now available for kids just like him.

The 'all-absorbing interest in specific topics' for my boy at this time is Star Wars.  Here he is as the evil Darth Vader, with his friend Iron Man.

His hero is George Lucas.  He reads about Star Wars, talks about Star Wars, watches Star Wars and, I would guess, dreams about Wookiees and clone troopers. Thanks to Uncle Gary, he has an endless supply of Star Wars tshirts.

When he grows up, he wants to be a director, like George Lucas.  He also has another obsession - LEGO.  Star Wars + LEGO = perfection!  While these obsessions can, at times drive older sisters (and parents) crazy, it is this single-mindedness that can allow Aspies to become experts in their field of choice.  Now, we just have to figure out how to meet up with George Lucas!

Another common issue with Aspie's is extreme food selectivity.  Much of this is due to sensory issues.  This is certainly the case with our boy.  Because of this, we were referred to a nutritionist, to help us deal with his food sensitivity and broaden his food palate.

We just went this week and it was a very informative visit.  I know that many of you have children on the spectrum, dealing with these very same issues.  So, I thought I would pass along some of the advice the nutritionist gave us.

In a nutshell, these are the foods that research has shown, should be avoided
~ synthetic food additives ~ MSG, artifical sweeteners, flavors and coloring
~ pesticides (organic whenever possible)
~ refined sugar
~ trans fats
This is one that the nutritionist says is especially critical, something about EPA/DHA and brain synapse.  I'm still trying to understand it.

The following are critical for brain health
~ a well-rounded diet with sufficient protein, carbs and fat
~ proper nutritional supplements
~ water
~ Omega-3 fatty acid supplement

Amazing, isn't it, how fat has gotten such a bad rap.  It is vital, in the proper forms, for the maintenance of normal brain function.

The nutritionist also gave us some great mealtime strategies and steps to introduce new foods into his diet.  I won't share them here, but I would be happy to pass them along, if you are interested.  I feel a bit overwhelmed with all that I have learned and so I am taking a deep breath and focusing on one thing at a time.

Obviously, I am not a doctor, I don't even play one on tv.  If you have used some of these tips for yourself or your own child and can confirm or deny their effectiveness, I would love to hear from you.  Starting tomorrow, we will begin gradually implementing these strategies.  We'll let you know how well it works!  This is a new journey for us, the wonderful world of Asperger's - and I look forward to connecting with others that are on this journey.

The Gift of Pain - Chapter 2

It is amazing to me that, as soon as I decide to share my story and the lessons I have learned, I find myself again battling pain.  The past three days have been low.  I have even debated whether or not I should continue telling my story.  There isn't a neat and tidy bow to tie at the end.  After a few days of soul-searching I have decided to continue - so, here it is.  I am a work in progress.

Years of uncertainty about my health led to a crisis and made me determined to get to the bottom of my health issues. After a terrifying incident behind the wheel of our car, I vowed to find the answers I needed. I told Steve that I would not drive again, until a doctor could tell me what was wrong. Little did I know, when I uttered those words, that it would be over four years before I would get back behind the wheel of a car.

The day after the frightening episode in the car, I showed up at the doctor’s office without an appointment, and insisted that I needed to see someone immediately. After some time I finally got in to see the doctor. I related to him how I was feeling and the specifics of my incident the day before. He asked me, “Do you ever space out and lose track of time?” “No!” I said, annoyed at him for asking me. “Yes, she does” Steve responded. I looked at him in disbelief. “I do not!”

Steve insisted that I did. I looked at the doctor, then back at Steve, hurt by what he was saying. “Why did you never mention this before?”  “I didn’t want to make you feel bad” was his response. I sat there, dumbfounded, as the doctor questioned Steve further. He asked him what my behavior was like when these incidents occurred, how often it happened and for how long. After speaking for a few more minutes, the doctor turned and looked at me. “Karen, I believe you are having seizures. You cannot drive anymore until you see a neurologist. I will make a referral right away.”

The impact of his words hit me like a punch to the face. I looked out the window and, watching the cars drive by, thought, “This can’t be happening to me. What is going on? What does this mean? How will I survive without driving?” The rest of his words were a blur. We walked out of his office and I wept the whole way home.

For the next several months, my life was an unending series of tests and doctor’s visits – EKGs, EEGs, CAT scans, SPECT scans and more. I was diagnosed with epilepsy and my license was suspended. They said I was experiencing partial complex seizures.  The neurons in my brain were misfiring.

The seizures increased in frequency and intensity. My health deteriorated rapidly and before long, I could no longer hold down a job, drive a car or care properly for my family. I was afraid to leave the house, for fear of having a seizure in public.

To the untrained eye, my seizures were not obvious. I could sense when they were coming as the left side of my face and body would grow numb and tingle. If I immediately lay down, the seizures were short and less intense, but the more stressed, hungry or tired I was, the more intense my seizures would become. I would lay my head down, or lean back in my chair and feel this sensation come over me. I could barely move, couldn’t speak and would wait for it to pass.

Shortly after my seizures began, I had another health scare.

One day, while visiting my sister, I was gripped so strongly with pain that I couldn’t stand and could hardly speak. I had suffered with this pain before but not with this intensity. My sister raced me to the emergency room. The ob/gyn doctor on call that day was one of the top doctors in his field. After examining me, he informed me that I needed a hysterectomy and I had to have it as soon as possible.

Because of my symptoms and the length of time I had them, he was concerned that the large tumor within me might be advanced ovarian cancer. Within 24 hours they had me scheduled for surgery. I lay there, prepped for surgery. A doctor I had never met before walked into the room and introduced himself to Steve and me. He smiled and said he was the oncologist and was on hand “just in case”.  Worst-case scenarios reeled through my mind.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from saving me,
so far from the words of my groaning?


O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer,
by night, and am not silent.


Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One;
you are the praise of Israel.
Psalm 22:12 (MSG)

What a flood of relief, when I woke up in the recovery room and saw a huge smile on Steve’s face. “You’re fine. The tumor was benign,” he said. They had also performed an appendectomy as my appendix appeared as though it was about to rupture.

I wept with relief.

In the meantime, my seizures continued. They didn’t last long, but the impact was incredible. Following a seizure I would feel exhausted, like I had run a marathon, and often felt very emotional. Because I was unable to drive, I had to ask for rides to the doctors or the store. Family and friends became my taxi service. The helplessness of my situation overwhelmed me. Looking back on it now, I realize how selflessly these loved ones cared for me – driving me, helping with the kids, cooking meals, praying and just being there. I am humbled when I think of their generosity and love.

There is one particular incident that sent me plummeting into despair. I was lying on the sofa when I felt a seizure coming on. My son (only four years old at the time) came in the room as I lay there. He called my name repeatedly and tugged at me to respond. I could hear him, but could not speak. My six-year-old daughter came behind him.

“Mommy’s not answering me", Sam told her. A few seconds passed. Rachel called my name. When I didn’t respond, I heard her turn to her brother and say, “I think she’s dead”. They both climbed on top of me and sat silently. Slowly, I recovered and reached up, pulling them close to me. I lay there and wept - utterly helpless to comfort them. I couldn’t bear to see the fear in my children’s eyes and wondered if God had abandoned me in my despair.

It would take some time for me to discover the truth. God was holding my hand through this journey, but the journey wasn’t over yet.  I would need to grip his hand firmly.

In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.
Psalm 18:6

The Gift of Pain - Chapter 1

We cannot escape pain. It is a fact of life as certain as death and taxes. We may avoid it for a while. We may deny it for a period. But we cannot escape it forever.

My first experiences with pain were mild. I stubbed my toes, scraped my knees and fell off my bike, like every other child, my own included.  But usually, a soothing word, a caress and a band-aid and the injury was quickly forgotten. Okay, I just lied there. The truth is, I would scream bloody murder for an hour and a half and then I would get over it!  (So that's where my kids get it from.)

I had occasional trips to the emergency room for stitches and the typical growing pains of youth. As an adult, I seemed to gain more grace but, on occasion, would twist an ankle or bruise a shin. I gave birth to three beautiful children and experienced all the sickness, pain and utter joy associated with childbirth.

All of these experiences with pain were eclipsed, however, in the past several years, as I discovered the unrelenting cruelty of sickness and suffering.

For some time now, I have been compelled to tell my story.  The facts are often ugly and grim. I questioned whether or not mine was a story that people would desire to read and if it was self-indulgent.

Recently, I had two specific incidents that prompted me to take the leap and bare a bit of my soul.  Two different friends, on separate occasions,  said, “You need to share what you have been through."  One friend knows a fair bit of my story, the other, very little. Their words have stuck in my mind like gum on the bottom of my shoe, and I can’t get them off.  So, I have decided to take a risk and let you into my private world of chronic pain, shattered dreams, renewed hope and joy. This story will take a while. It is still often hard to relive. There are tears in my eyes as I write this. But, as the Swedish Proverb says, “Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is half a sorrow”.

This journey began approximately ten years ago. At that time, I was working full-time as the secretary of the Christian school where my two youngest children attended. Our oldest daughter was at the end of her high school years, looking ahead to college.

I had a particularly difficult labor with our youngest child and never felt like I really bounced back. At work, I was not as sharp as I once was, often distracted and overwhelmed.   I was told it was just the stress of parenting three children, working full-time and dealing with life.  However, one day my husband’s cousin made a remark that made me think there may be more to the way I was feeling.

Jon and I had worked in the same office a few years previous to this time and he commented to Steve, “Remember how sharp Karen used to be. She was type A and could multi-task better than anyone I knew."  Turning to me he said, “You’re just not the same anymore."

Now, I know that this sounds like an unusual thing for somebody to say and it really annoyed my husband. He felt that it was unkind and told Jon in no uncertain terms.  I, on the other hand, felt like there was finally somebody who acknowledged how I had been feeling for some time – dull, slow and just generally out of whack.

For months I had questioned Steve, my mom, my sister and friends, “Do you notice how different I am? I’m just not the same. Something is wrong. Do you see it?” One by one they had reassured me that I seemed normal and that I was probably just tired - not to worry.

I told the doctor how I was feeling and they ran some blood work and ordered an EKG, but everything appeared fine - "probably just hormones" (a doctor's favorite go-to line).

All that changed on Thanksgiving Day, 2001.  We had a great time at Grandma and Poppa’s house, ate too much turkey and were driving home, just over a mile away.  Steve had gone ahead with our oldest in one car and I was a few minutes behind with the youngest two in their car seats.  As I was driving down the hill from my parent’s house I had this strange feeling come over me.  I wasn’t sure what to do with the car.  It took me a few seconds to orient myself to where I was and it scared me.

I pulled over to the side of the road, my mind in an uproar.  “Mom, what are you doing? Why did we stop?” the kids questioned.  At first I couldn’t speak, but eventually told them that I wasn’t feeling well and needed to rest before we could go on.  In my mind I was thinking, “What is wrong with me? I can’t drive any further. Maybe my sister will come along soon and see me here.”

Several more minutes passed and nobody drove by.  I got my bearings and continued on home.  When I walked in the door, Steve could tell something had happened.  I looked at him and said, “I am not getting back in that car again until somebody tells me what is wrong. I’m going to the doctor tomorrow and I am staying there until I get some answers!”   I was truly terrified.

This was the beginning of my journey through sickness, pain and strengthened faith.  It is a journey that I am still traveling.  I don't know how to share it briefly, so I will continue to share my story over the next several weeks.  I earnestly pray that somehow, when you read it, you will be encouraged to persevere through your own journey, however painful that may be. My purpose in this is not to glorify myself or garner your pity, but to bring glory to the One who was, “despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.” Isaiah 53:3 NIV

You will discover how I can truly say, I thank God for the "gift of pain".

You Tube Tuesday - Dads

This is dedicated to my favorite dads!  I know it's not Father's Day, but this is too good to wait.
See if you recognize your dad in this video.




Here are my three top dads.  I love you - khakis, socks with sandals (you know who you are) and all !

My dad - rockin' the 4th of July!  Nothing says party like a recliner on the front lawn.

My dad-in-law (just call him 'Buttons') with his favorite grandson.  (It's my blog, I can say what I want!)

My babies daddy - lord of the Grill, King of the Coals!

The Wedding - A Final Peek

Yes!  I have more pictures to share.

Following the ceremony, the bride and groom turned heads as they cruised through town in a cherry-red classic Thunderbird convertible.  I want this car! 

Natalie looked stunning in her sleeveless chiffon dress and Adrian was so handsome in his shades and gray suit with yellow socks to match Nat's flowers.

The mother-of-the-bride was also a bridesmaid.  My beautiful sister!

It was great to have friends and family gather from far and wide - Canada to Arizona and points between.

The reception was held in the backyard of the bride's parents.
They transformed their gorgeous yard with lanterns, candles and strings of lights.

 Kathy was determined to have candles floating in the pool, but the wind decided otherwise.

The coffee bar was a huge hit.  The father-of-the bride approves.

Julie and Cheng were kept busy all night, making delicious lattes.

The pastries and cake from The Blue Frog Bakery were killer!

For the kids, mountains of cupcakes were eaten

and a candy bar, with real movie theater popcorn was devoured.

Toasts were made and the father/daughter dance brought tears to my eyes (that always gets me).

The night ended with a screening of Princess Bride on the lawn, enjoying the beautiful California evening.

What a wonderful day!

"but the greatest of these is love" 
I Cor. 13:13

Mr & Mrs Contreras

Wow!  What a day we had yesterday.  The weather was beautiful, the bride was stunning, the groom was beaming and...

my camera broke!

Yes, on the one day of the year that I wanted to take pictures more than any other, my camera decided to slip peacefully over to the other side, where all good cameras go.  I can't tell you how ticked I was, but in the end I decided there was nothing to do but relax, enjoy the day and steal other people's pictures off the internet.

So, since I'm stealing, I decided to steal the best (maybe it's a good thing my camera broke!)

Actually, Natalie and Adrian's photographer, Hugh Forte gave me permission to post these incredible pictures from yesterday, a sneak peek for you.  He is a gifted artist with his camera and lenses, capturing Mr. and Mrs. Contreras' personalities and the beauty of the day perfectly! 
Here's the link to his site.  Check it out - hughforte.com/blog


I want to be just like Hugh when I grow up.

As more people download their pictures of the ceremony and festivities, I will grab them and share them with you.  Enjoy!

Love Is In The Air

I mentioned before that my beautiful niece Natalie is getting married soon.  Well, tomorrow is the big day!

Family has arrived from out of town, dresses have received the final nip and tuck, the church is being decorated and there is a sense of excitement in the air.

I love weddings and usually need to bring a tissue. I think this will definitely be a two tissue event for me.  I can't imagine how many I will need at my own child's wedding!  I remember the day our sweet Nat was born.  We have watched her grow up to be a lovely young lady. She picked a guy that fits her like a hand in a glove and in the short time we've know Adrian, we have grown to love him as well.

Since weddings are on my mind, I took a peek through my pictures and have a few to share.

These pictures of my parents are great- so young and happy.  They were driven around town on the chassis of an old car.  I love the red roses and dad's white socks!

Here are their going away outfits.  So stylish. Mom and dad married on September 13, 1958 and are still having fun and in love!

This was the first wedding I ever attended.  I was the flower girl and I only remember a few things.  I loved my gold satin dress.   I loved everyone looking at me and I got very tired at the reception.

Steve and I were married 29 (gasp!) years ago.  What a beautiful day.  Boy, we were young!  After all these years, I can't imagine being with anybody else, through thick and thin.

My brother married two years later. His beautiful bride Shelley looked amazing in her aunt's vintage wedding gown but it was a very hot day and she almost melted.  They  just celebrated their 27th wedding anniversary.  Congrats!

My sister wore our mother's gown on her own wedding day.  The gown had been sold (my parent's needed the money) and we tracked it down to return it to my mother on her 25th wedding anniversary.  In the end, that dress was worn by four different brides!

Tomorrow, my sister will be the mother-of-the-bride.  She and her husband Norb will welcome one more son into their family.  Can't wait for the festivities to begin!  I have my camera ready!

Let love and faithfulness never leave you; 

bind them around your neck, 

write them on the tablet of your heart.

^{Proverbs 3:3} 

 

Couldn't resist one more picture.  My sweet sister and me with all that hair.  We were rockin' the 80's!  (Where did I put those hot rollers?)

Snapshots

I'm overwhelmed.

You may know the feeling.  No matter what I do, it's not enough.  If I'm working in my office, I'm picturing the mountain (I'm being literal here) of laundry piled by the washing machine.  When I'm doing the laundry, I am thinking about the housework that needs to be done (why does the dog still have hair on her body when there's soooo much everywhere else?).  When I'm doing housework, I'm thinking, I need to spend more time with the kid's this summer.  When I'm out with the kids, I am trying to focus, but keep being drawn back to all the other things I should be doing.  It is a vicious cycle.

There never seems to be enough time, money or energy for what I need to accomplish.  This is hard for me to admit.  I hemmed and hawed about whether or not I should write this.  I hate whiners and don't want to sound like one, but I have a feeling there are others of you out there who may relate to my predicament.

Yesterday, it all just became too much.  I was being pulled in so many directions that I just gave up, sat in my chair and cried.  I had myself a first-class pity party!  Now a pity party is not festive, and nobody wants to join you, so I had it all by myself, no cake no banners, no gifts, just a box of tissue.  After I was done (and my eyes were red and blotchy), I walked away from the computer, ignored the housework, the laundry and yes, even my kids and went to my room.

I sat on my bed and had a looong talk with the Lord.  I told him about my fears and my frustrations.  He is the one friend that I know for sure will listen.  Slowly, I felt a peace begin to settle over my spirit.  I recalled the words that Jesus spoke, "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." John 14:27.  Slowly and sweetly I let those words calm my spirit and my mind.

Not wanting to leave my room, I picked up a box filled with unsorted, disorganized pictures and started going through them.  My first thought was to try and get them in order (must be doing!) but before long I got lost in the pictures and the memories and started focusing on how good life has been.

One thing about photographs, they capture a moment in time, but we tend to be selective, taking pictures of the good times and ignoring the bad.  I have never (and won't do it even for this blog) taken a picture of my mountain of dirty laundry.  I don't snap pictures of the bills piled on the desk and I don't have a single photograph of the dog poop in the backyard waiting to be picked up. 

I do, however, have pictures of my wedding day.  I have shot pictures madly of my children, from the day they were born, through their first steps, vacations, athletic events, academic awards, and the fun of watching them grow every day.  Their sweet faces fill my photo boxes.

I also have pictures of my own childhood, my beautiful parents and in-laws, my husband and me, young and in love and old(er) and still in love.  There are pictures of family - nieces and nephews, cousins and siblings, friends present and past and loved ones that are no longer with us.

After some time, poring over pictures, laughing at hairstyles and chubby cheeks, sharing memories with my husband, my daughter and her fiance, I felt my burden easing a bit more.  Nothing had actually changed since my pity party.  A magical fairy didn't fly in the window and do my laundry.  I didn't get a visit from Publisher's Clearing House with a check for $10,000,000 (or even $10!), but I did allow myself a fresh perspective.

It is true that my troubles cannot and should not be ignored, but I can change my primary focus.  I can choose which mental snapshot to keep and which ones to throw away.  With God's help, I am
committing to dwelling on "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy"
Philippians 4:8.

I'll check back in and let you know how this new perspective works!

To Do List

I have really been trying to take my own advice and make Sundays a day of rest, no blogging, no housework, no listing.  I am enjoying that one day of the week to focus on my Creator, relax with my family and recharge for the coming week.  All of this means, of course, that I have to get things in order on Saturday.

Today my list of to dos is long.  I'll check things off one at a time and what doesn't get done...well, tough!

~ Work on Natalie's wedding veil (I'm making it - here's a tiny peek)

~ Get my office and my merchandise in order - what a mess! (will not post a picture - don't want to make you cry)

~ Clean my bathroom and vacuum (recruiting family volunteers for this one)

~ Spend some time taming back my jungle of a yard

~ Finish my blog (almost done!)

~ Take more product pictures

~ Post said pictures on my site

~ Buy Rachel basketball shoes (pleeeeze, mom?!)

~ Drop off packages at the post office (Steve just left with packages in hand - thanks!)

~ Get some groceries

~ Make an attendance chart for my Sunday School class

... okay, I just looked at this list and realized, it ain't gonna happen!  I'm sure you all have a list as long, or longer.  I could keep adding to it, but I've got to focus on what's important and let the rest wait.

It's so easy to get overwhelmed with the 'to dos' of my life.  I need to make sure that somewhere in that list is what is really important

~ spend time in the Word and talking to the Lord (if not, I won't make it through the day)

~ sit down and share a coffee and a chat with a friend (motivation to complete my tasks)

~ snuggle with the kids and talk about their day

~ contact a friend who is struggling, to listen and tell her she's loved

~ finish my blog (done!)

I feel better already.  See you Monday!

Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:34 (NIV)

Baby Talk

I was never a baby person.  You know the type.  They can smell a baby from the other room.  They make a beeline to any new mom or stroller that they see, begging to hold the little bundle of joy and generally making a fuss.  You know who you are (Amie, Jodi and Donna!) and I know you can't help it.  There is that strong maternal instinct that just goes out of control whenever an infant is near.

I was never like that.  In fact, as a young person I didn't babysit or hardly look at babies.  I would make the required complimentary remarks about people's progeny but you wouldn't ask me to teach or help in the nursery!  I began to wonder if I had that maternal instinct at all.

A single event changed all that over 27 years ago.  I had a baby.  All of a sudden, my world was turned upside down.  I was not prepared in any way.  I hadn't even changed a diaper and had to have the nurse teach me before I left the hospital.  I was overwhelmed, at first.  The lack of sleep, lack of training and constant neediness of my little girl left me exhausted and wondering, "what have I gotten myself into?".  But gradually, she slept through the night, sat up, crawled, walked, and continued to grow into a little person and I realized something one day.  I was smitten.

I never imagined the ways motherhood would change my life - for the better.  I wouldn't trade being a mom for anything.  But there were times, when I was younger that I would ponder, "Is this it?  Is this the only contribution I will make with my life?  Feeding kids, doing laundry, juggling work and school and sports and..."  Now, I realize there is no better contribution I can make to the world than having the opportunity to pour myself into the lives that have been entrusted in my care.

As the years wore on, I prayed for God to remove the desire from heart for more children, but it remained and, if anything, grew stronger as my friends had more babies and I was surrounded by a boatload of nieces and nephews (who I adore).  Thirteen years passed before we were blessed with another baby girl.  Two years after that, our son was born.  What joy!

As a mother of three, I have applauded loudly at their accomplishments, fallen to my knees through their struggles and been amazed every step of the way, to seem them grow, rise to the challenges and blossom into their own unique persons.  Our oldest is now an adult and next year will marry and start a family of her own, but she will always be my baby girl, the one that broke me in!

As I continue daily, to pray for my children, for their safety, their future, their many needs, I am confident that whether or not I do everything 'right' (and let me tell you, I certainly don't), that their Heavenly Father is watching out for them and cares for them more than I could possibly imagine.  What a comfort.

So, I'm a convert.  I am now a baby person.  I marvel every time I see a sweet little cherub with all their incredible potential, and thank God for the three he sent to our family.




   God's love, though, is ever and always, eternally present to all who fear him, 
   Making everything right for them and their children as they follow his Covenant ways and remember to do whatever he said.
Psalm 103:17,18 (MSG)