not so good Friday

Most of Friday night was spent in the ER of Children’s Medical City in Dallas. Owen was wheezing again…..and the inhaler (yes he already has an inhaler) wasn’t doing the trick. A little before 3 am, almost 6 hours and 4 rounds of oxygen later, we finally got to go home. This wasn’t Owen’s first trip to get oxygen – but it was the first time in a full fledge emergency room. I watch lots of medical shows….House and Grey’s……and it didn’t feel anything like that. My resident wasn’t Meridith Grey, there was no McDreamy or grumpy man with a cane. Just a kid struggling to breathe. My kid. There were moments that I wanted to cry. I was scared. Owen was getting worse and I couldn’t fix it. I knew in the back of my mind that he would be ok. It was just asthma. A few breathing treatments and some steroids and we would eventually get to go home. Some kids don’t have that luxury. But I still wanted to cry. I kept having to tell myself not to think about it, to just keep going. The hours ticked by and we befriended the other patients around us. Any time there was a lull and my tired mind got to wander……I had to tell it not to think. He was hooked up to a monitor that gave his oxygen saturation ( which is actually what kept as at the hospital so long – it has to be over 92 to go home and O’s never stabilized above that but by 3 am we voted on going home rather than spending the night in that recliner.) and his heart rate. His oxygen was too low and his heart rate too high. At some points I couldn’t watch it. Those numbers not where they were supposed to be scared me. Owen was happy enough watching Happy Feet in Spanish, but I was secretly glad those monitors weren’t hooked up to me. My heart rate would have set off the alarms too. I felt bad having to turn away. Like some horrible mom who couldn’t face what my child was going through. But Owen seemed ok, it was just me who couldn’t handle it.
Iv’e never really understood that part on Calvary where God turned away. I’ve been taught it was seeing all that sin on His blameless son but… when Jesus had to ask, “my God my God why have you forsaken me”…..I still want to shake him and ask How could he disappear when He needed him the most? My early morning hours in Children’s Medical City isn’t much of a comparison to the cross……but I got a tiny glimpse of why such a loving Father couldn’t bear to watch.

haircut = little boy and bye bye sweet toddler


When i picked O up today he was a mess. I asked his teacher if he showed up with his hair brushed this morning, and she swore he did. Poor kid must have gotten the Wallis wave. All of Shaun's family has straight thick hair. Mine is wavy. Not good wavy. Old inconsistent perm wavy. One side will be perfect, while the other kicks out the complete opposite way. Also humidity is the enemy. So after Owen's nap he had one side marching to it's own drummer, something (hopefully lunch and not snot) matted into another portion and an unfortunate cowlick. I decided it was time for a hair cut. It really was pretty long. I could have put it in pig tails if I wanted. I asked the lady at Kool Kuts if she could do a faux hawk cut....thinking it would be kept long on top. Kind of inbetween skater and preppy and he wouldn't have to lose all that pretty blond hair. Turns out, O picked today to be an angel and he sat there perfectly in his little firetruck seat while she cut.........and cut..........and cut. there was more hair on the floor than when i get my hair cut. we could have donated it to locks of love there was that much hair. When she was done, O got a sucker and I barely recognized my own kid.

please forward to 10 of your closest friends or terrible horrible no good things will happen

email forwards. really. people still send those. lately i have gotten at least 2-3 silly forwards a day from someone new to my email address. some of them are cute and funny but, i hate forwards. i feel bad for posting this so publically. What if he/she reads it and gets his/her feelings hurt. email forwarders do seem to be the type to get hurt feelings easily. occasionally i will forward something on if it is particularly cute, clever or funny........but it has to be really good. i hate opening my inbox and seeing all these silly warm feel good powerpoints, or friendship or men bashing or cute little boys peeing on the toilet seat. i waste my time by reading most of them. what if there is a really good one in there......i do not want to miss out. no i do not believe that if i don't forward it to every person in my inbox that i will have bad luck for the next 77 years. I do not believe that if i do forward it that I will win the lottery. I do not believe that if i forward it to 50 people i will recieve a 50$ gift card from the Gap or from a foreign dignatary from another country.........but a little bit inside me wonders. I especially hate the forwards that you have to forward to 10 other people to see the answer. I do not want to subject my friends to this crap........but i really want to know the answer or see what happens. Religious ones are also especially haneous because i hate the 20 slide powerpoint of inspirational pictures and verses set to the soundtrack of some especially corny song written by twaila paris or micheal w. smith ( unless of course it is friends are friends forever and then i weep like a schoolgirl). What would Jesus do? I'll tell ya, he'd hit the delete button.

I do like some of the 80s forwards, funny videos (like the kid who kept saying she was going to kick the monster's ass and my new favorite the mom song ), or some really good photos. There should be some email forwarding ettiquitte out there. I wish there was a way to tell somone to STOP flooding my inbox with their crap without worrying about sounding rude. There should be an online service to hook up forward addicts with each other. That way they can send each other silly stuff all day long and not bug anyone else. One year I had a parent of a student send my 5-6 "enlightening" emails a day. She almost gave me a crisis of faith. So next time you think about hitting forward.........make sure it is really good. If you didn't actually cry or laugh outloud for more than 30 seconds......think twice before unloading it on everyone in your address book.


Owen has about a dozen dots on his face. This time not from the __________ he grabbed off the counter and rubbed all over it ( fill in the blank w/ any of the following: lipstick, gluestick, marker, pen, chapstick). Earlier in the week, I picked him up and checked his cubby for old sippy cups, half colored artwork and the infamous daily report. Instead was a very official looking note stating someone at the school had been diagnosed with chickenpox. I ignored it. Owen has had the vaccine and I think even the booster. The school is big -- what is the liklihood that O has even been in contact w/ this germy kid. The sheet sat in his cubby for a few days until I finally transferred it to the floorboard of my car. Then Friday, I went to pick up O and noticed a few pink dots on his face. Suddenly that worksheet flashed in my head. I questioned the teacher ( his usual one had already gone home). She said she had already asked someone and they didn't think it was chicken pox. I told her they hadn't been there in the morning and suddenly we looked harder. We found a few more on his arms and legs. More seemed to keep appearing as I searched. I asked a few more questions ( maybe ones I should have asked on Tuesday) and learned that the culprit was actually in Owen's class and she too had had the vaccine. Then we found the director to ask what they looked like when the first showed up and no surprise...they looked just like Owen's. We called the dr on the way home -- she just said to give him tylonal and keep him away from other kids. Owen didn't seem phased. No fever. Big appitite and tons of energy. By the time Shaun got home I started questioning if it was even chicken pox. We took him first thing in the morning to Care Now ( the dots seemed lighter) and paid 35$ for her to confirm that it was indeed chicken pox. Apparently the vaccine is only about 82% effective -- and then it makes for a milder case. A mild case sadly does not mean shorter case. He is supposed to be quarentined for 7 days. So the pumpkin patch and boo bash were out. Me and Shaun divyed up who would stay home what days ( doesn't help that he will be in Colorodo most of the week!).
Day 5 of the pox and Owen is climbing the walls. Literally. I have pulled all my tricks. Bought a few new toys. Made a fort in the living room. Watched more than our share of cartoons. It is icky outstide, which makes playing out side not such a good option. When we do make it outside he can hear the neighbors playing and gets so sad that he can't join them. I am feeling a bit couped up myself but no that it is temporary and am enjoying my couch time. He is destroying each room faster than I can pick it up. He managed to knock over a dresser 3x the size of him, rewire the tv and learned a cool new trick. Move a kitchen chair to any place in the house with something he can't reach and tada...Owen with cookies, Owen with a sharpie.
I have an official letter from the doctor saying he can go back to school on Thursday.... and I can't wait. Don't get me wrong I love him. I loved my summer of playing with him. But the last 5 days have been miserable. He needs out. He needs other kids. And mommy needs a break. It is a screaming reminder that we were not meant to live in isolation. We can't thrive without community. Our body craves it.......even for a slightly introverted 2 year old. We get into trouble without. Owen needs people his size to watch and play with and race. Later he will need the same relationships to experience life with. It is no fun alone couped up behind walls. The walls of your house or even just the ones of your heart.

a nothing saturday.

Days like yesterday only come around 3-4 times a year. It was a nothing Saturday. No weddings, no birthday parties, no traveling, no anything. The Tech game wasn't even on tv. I slept until almost 8 am, went and got donuts at Owen's cute pleading. Picked up a bit, but only a bit and eventually put on a bra. No shower. No makeup. It was a definately an old pair of jeans and tshirt kind of day. We spent most of the morning playing in the cul-de-sac with neighbors while Shaun painted the trim on our house. I heated up lunch and then headed over to B&N for some coffee and to let Owen chase Maddy up and down the aisles. Apparently a nothing Saturday also include NO NAP for Owen. More playing outside, an attempted nap for me and I ignored the laundry that needed to be hung. Leftovers for dinner and lots of college football. I did get a bit ancy at 8 and insisted on getting out for icecream. Owen crashed the second we got in the car and I crashed soon after getting home. Next Saturday is already filling up: 2 parties, a pumpkin patch and the Tech A&M game. But for one day -- I tried to soak in the boring and uneventfulness.

wedding season

I thought my wedding days were over for a while, but I have been to 2 weddings in the last 3 weeks and 2 more invitations just came in the mail. There have been lots and lots of baby showers in the last few years, but only a few weddings. I miss them and not just the free wine and cake. I like getting dressed up. I like an event where most people are actually on time. I like hors d'oeuvres and chocolate covered strawberries. I like watching my son dance with the flowergirls. But I love, the moment when the bride enters the room. I love when someone's voice quakes a bit as they make promises to each other. I love the lines "for better for worse, in sickness and in health". I love it when the preacher says, "what God has joined together - let no man put assunder". I love that I can't go to a wedding without comparing each moment to my own. I never understood why people cried at weddings until I got married. Now, there is always at least a moment ( if not most of) the ceremony where I am tyring desperately not to let my mascara run. I love dancing with my husband at the reception. I love that marriage is sometimes incredibly hard, but today 2 people promised to endure. In an age where so many poeple break those promises I love that 6 and a half years later I still mean mine. I love that I would still marry Shaun again tomorrow.

room to breathe

My front flowerbeds are the worst on the street. They are full of weeds. Occasionally I get motivated and take a crack at them. I pull and tug and itch and scratch and promise to keep up with them better. Before I know it, and much to my neighbors-who-like-to-spend-hours-and-hours-on-exterior-home-maintenance chagrin, they are overgrown again. This is a metaphor for my life. My calendar gets overwhelmed and I cut here and there ( usually by getting sick or burned out) and swear to weed a few things out. Just like my flowerbeds I usually fail. I like busy. Well not the busy, tired, driving from one place to another part, the leaving one thing early and getting to another late, getting home after owen goes to bed, picking up something to eat in the drive through bit. I like the people and the coffee and the fellowship and getting to hear everyone's stories part.

Lately I have gotten good at weeding things out (with the exception of my flowerbeds). Early in the summer, I had 2 soccer teams, 2 mom's groups, a weekly small group, a book club, a writer's group and a women's bible study. I was busy and tired and missed my family. I have a new job with less titles and more pay. I have cut over half of the other stuff out too. Some of that was my decision, but to be honest most of it wasn't. I am now down to 1 soccer team, a book club and a writers group. That's it. I am home more often than not. Notice the lack of churchy things. Those cleared themselves out. I didn't chose them. There is a little bit of guilt attached to it, but I am finding just as much growth in my respite. Maybe God has given me this season to breathe and find him in my living room rather than everyone elses.