garden envy

I am trying hard not to cover my neighbors.  For my kids? I want to get them a swingset.  For me?  I want dirt.  Yes, I covet my neighbor's dirt.

There is a house down the street with a 3 tier garden into the slope of their side yard.  And brick walkway up the center.  Framed by posts, not railroad ties but those other landscaping posts. 

We met the owners today.  And several of the neighbors who were just hanging out in the yard with them.  The dad/husband is the one who almost ran us off the nature trail when he gave his daughter a ride on his wife's Spree scooter.  Not really, but I had to give him a hard time about the "no motorized vehicles" sign that is posted.

Anyway, the problem with my garden envy is that I want the end result but I'm not sure that I'm ready to commit to the work that a garden requires.  Maybe I'll just go buy some large pots and grow cherry tomatoes in them.

"Let go of your need to have more. When you stop needing more of everything, more of what you desire seems to arrive in your life. Since you're detached from the need for it, you find it easier to pass it along to others, because you realize how little you need in order to be satisfied and at peace." - Dr. Wayne Dyer

One of my sister's best friends posted the above quote in her Facebook status today, and it really hit home with my thoughts lately.  I'm trying to gather my thoughts in greater detail, but I wanted to share somewhere where I can go back and reflect on it, not just in the passing of my ADHD status updates.

Think Spring

It got colder again today.  A front came through last night and took away our warm Spring-like weather.  Nonetheless, I can't help but be encouraged by the renewal and new growth in my yard.

Little Buddy stepped on tulip #3.  Maybe it will grow and bloom next year.  I planted these a few weeks ago.

Last weeks yard project: white flowers are "candytuft",  I can't wait for the purple pansies to take off.  The carpet of creeeping phlox on the left is compliments of the previous owners.

Anyone know what this could be? I am guessing daisies or black eyed susans or something, I don't know.

These mini pansies, aka johnny jump ups, were growing in our grass, so I dug them up and put them in the flower bed. 

mystery lillies... I hope they are pretty!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

brushing off the dust

Unpacking is a long process.  I want to find the "perfect" place for everything, but I only want to do it once.  So I took about a, oh, 2 week break, and did not unpack a single box.  (In my defeated perfectionist manner of not accomplishing much, of course... we actually have options for where to put things and it boggles my easily confused mind.)

Tonight, hubby decided to be my motivator.  We moved some boxes around, setting them in their target areas, and even unpacked some boxes... old boxes.

My boxes were books.  For now, the books have been added to the bookshelves at the bottom of our basement steps.  Some WILL be moved up to the guest room, because you cannot have empty book shelves in a guest room when guests will be coming for a night.  It's just fundamentally wrong.

Hubby unearthed a box of keepsakes from his childhood.  A broken toy car.  A train car.  A ceramic puppy with fabrics glued on.  His high school diploma, and a photo of him in his first work uniform. (He was such a cute kid.  No wonder our kids are so cute.) A crocheted blanket that his Mom will have to tell the story behind.  It has holes in it... I wonder if I can make a patch to sew over it on both sides, and salvage it for Bear?

In my boxes, along with some devotional books, Christian Fiction and Bibles, including my very first Childhood Bible, the duct-tape covered Bible from my teenage years, and THE Bible which held my engagement ring when Hubby proposed to me, were Laura Ingalls Wilder, Anne Shirley, Black Beauty, C.S. Lewis, Jo and the Little Women, The Scarlett Letter, and more.    One of my favorite finds was a hymn book that our friend Jodi gave me for Christmas in 2001.... no music, just the words, so it's really poetry.  It is going to be set on the piano. Tonight. I had wondered where it was, and I am thankful it was exactly where it should have been, in a box of treasured books.

I've wanted to be settled for, oh, 2 years now.  Plus some, but especially 2 years.  Being content amidst uncertain conditions of sorts is hard for me.  I am a worrier, and I wanted to know where we would settle down.

It looks like we are there.  When boxes from childhood have been "unearthed", I think it might be safe to say we've found our earthly home.

lesson learned... (TMI ALERT)

Never let your 3 year old watch you pump breast milk for her baby brother.  2 1/2 years later, it will suddenly and randomly come back to haunt you.  She will think it was hilarious, and make gestures like a milking machine around that part of her body, complete with the sound effects she remembers from the pump.

But really, having her bang at the door was not exactly helpful to the production process, I didn't think I had a choice at the time.

Lord, have mercy.

my other addiction is returning


The last 2 days have been gorgeous here in the South.  Yesterday was slightly chilly, but turned out to be really pretty.  Today was awesome.  So, after lunch, the kids and I ventured about 4 miles away to a local nursery.  I had a $5 off coupon from the paper, a gift in mind to purchase for someone, and simple ideas to spruce up our flowerbeds.  I ended up leaving with a flowering bush, a flat of deep purple pansies, and 2 candytuft plants.  I just realized they are a ground cover, I hope it doesn't spread TOO quickly, I have other things I want to plant.  Though I bet they will look pretty next to the already present pink creeping phlox.

Bear came up to me with her hands behind her back while I was checking out.  "I have a surprise for you mama."  They were a seed packet of some other flowers, statice.  I know it's early, but I planted them too.  They were $1, I could not resist.

While I planted, the kiddos wasted a lot of water.  I mean, they tried to help me water.  And they played with their chalk, and water.  Why is it that a 5 year old girl will slime up her arms (halfway to her elbows) with pinkish red chalk paint stuff but will not touch a worm because it is slimy?

4 of the 6 packs were planted in the mailbox garden, the other two along the front of the flowerbeds on either side of our front door.

We obviously need fresh mulch, and there aren't a lot of blooms on the pansies yet.  The tag for the candytuft said it attracts butterflies.  (It is the lonely little one above the top row of pansies. The other side of the bed is kind of a mirror image.)  I hope so, for the kids' sake!

I bought and planted some tulips and hyacinths last week, or the week before.... I know Buddy has already crushed one of them so it won't be blooming, but perhaps the leaves will soak up enough sun to make a new bulb for next year.  Could he please not walk on the flowers he is trying to help water?  Especially the ones that are in limited quantity?

I also planted some acidanthera bulbs about 2 weeks ago, which I loved at my old house and vowed to plant again.  Prophecy fulfilled, I hope they grow.

We're definitely enjoying the new place, inside and out.

a visit to the past... and looking ahead

We drove by our old house this weekend.  It wasn't like I expected.... or maybe it was.  It looked like someone else's home.  Which it is.  They had chairs on the front porch, patio furniture out back.  The flowerbeds hadn't changed much, I think they must have pulled out the yellow rose bush, but they certainly had not added any bushes or shrubs.  The butterfly bush has quadrupled in size, and the yellow spring-blooming shrub whose name eludes me even though they are out in full force was also taller. Forsythia.  It looked lived in, cared for enough.  Perhaps because we've finally moved on, moved into OUR new home, perhaps because 6 years is a relatively short time to live somewhere, I did not want it back. Did I want to see my friends from the neighborhood more often?  You bet.  In fact, we had a miscommunication, our dear friends thought we were staying with them when we had not planned to, so we cancelled our reservation and DID stay with them.  Except for the onset of my allergies, the visit was wonderful.  Dinner at one of the nearby restaurants (I think the food at Las Palmas on Nolensville Rd. has improved, it was more flavorful than I remember), the girls dressed up, the boy chased the girls, played with tinker toys, and squealed at the cats in the backyard.  This time followed a birthday party for another sweet friend, so the whole day was just that... sweet.  Driving back home on Sunday, in between my hacking and sniffling that prevented us from visiting our old church and seeing more friends, we loved that it took less than 3 hours, more like 2 1/2 from our old house to new house.  So maybe our friends can come visit us here more often, too.

I think Bear remembered the neighborhood once she saw it.  I am not sure if the walk home from the restaurant with her friends and the Daddies jogged her memory further.  But she was so glad to play with her friends again.  And I was so glad to sit on the couch with a crochet project while my friend knitted. (We must be getting old.)   Buddy loved our friends' cats and their Bradford Pear tree in full bloom (hence my allergies).  Both kids loved their carpet, and Bear proclaimed that we only have hard floors in our new house. (Which is true, except for an area rug in the family room and occasional throw rugs.)

I remember how excited and anxious we were to buy our first home.  It was newly built, we got to pick out the fixtures from the builder's spec model, choose upgrades as we desired or could afford. (There were not too many, thankfully they included more than other builders at the time, like a fireplace which we rarely used and 4 ft wide shower in the master bath).    The yard... tiny. Steep.  Remember the posts about the cliff where the developer cut away?  Well, it hasn't gotten any flatter.
The mortgage... ah... we paid extra on it while I worked, before we had kids.  In spite of the dropping market, we had an offer within 4 weeks of putting it on the market in '09.  An offer that did not fall through.

I look back at the hand of Providence, how God has provided for us since we were married, and I am just thankful.  We did not do anything to earn or deserve such favor... before the house, there was the 2 bedroom apartment on a pretty hill.  Before THAT, we lived with Hubby's parents, and they became my friends and mentors in a way that few get blessed with.

And now.  Here we are.  The kids call it the "big, big house."  Which it is.  Bigger than I ever dreamed or expected.  With some amenities I would trade in a heartbeat.  Well just one.  I prefer to walk barefoot on carpet, now I have to wear my socks all the time.  But the bright side is the hardwood is better on allergies and easier to clean when your 2 year old pees on it.  We have new neighbors to get to know, though they will not replace our old friends, they will be added to the list of people God has placed in our lives "for such a time as this" (whatever "this" entails).  This home has a history, it was someone else's, it has some quirks, but also a lot of character.  We did not get to choose every detail, but someone, 18 years ago chose a lot of special touches for themselves, and then they did their best to get it ready for us when it was time to say goodbye.

Little Man probably won't remember the first house he lived in, or the apartment, and his Big Sis might not, either.  However, I am pretty sure they will make some memories in our new home.

This family's story has touched my heart... pray for Lucy.   She turned 5 yesterday, spent her birthday at St. Jude's.

Wow, time flies!

We have been in our home for 2 weeks plus a couple of days.  Two weeks in which hubby has not had to travel, his commute has been relatively painless, we have unpacked a lot but still have a way to go, and hubby has turned into Mark Stuart, a male counterpart of Martha Stewart.  Ok, not really.  But he decided that before perfecting the TV/stereo set-up, we should paint the family room.  I did not disagree... there were severe fading spots, shadows of picture frames past, all the way down the main downstairs hallway.  Rectangular ghosts, if you will.  We also decided the kitchen has too much going on in it and are painting it one color instead of the two mismatched colors.  The tile and granite have very distinct patterns, and the walls fight them for attention.  It's not working for us.  We're slowly finding fixtures that suit our style/taste, as the early 90's brass does not....  but also trying to be frugal and strategic in using coupons, etc... 

The neighbors seem friendly.  One of them is building safety gates for the top and bottom of the stairs on the deck.  The deck, as great as it is, is a safety hazard when you have a 2 year old who thinks himself to be Buzz Lightyear.  We almost didn't look at the house a 2nd time because of it, after little Lightyear's episode at the park in November.

We had a tornado warning last week.  The kids and I simply went to the basement, cranked up the radio, and played.  I opened the blinds to be able to watch the clouds and listen for sirens.  We have also discovered that earthworms seek shelter from the rain by creeping between the doors and onto the blue and white floor.  And if they aren't cleaned up prior to the wild stampede and little tikes basketball fun, they get smashed.  It took us a couple of days to figure out what that red mush was on the floor.

I have cleared some brush out of the flower beds and planted some bulbs... white hyacinths, purple tulips, and my beloved acidanthera.  I could go crazy with this yard.  The neighborhood is well established, but our yard has almost no trees, except for a birch that is so close to the house it will threaten the foundation if we don't remove it in the next couple of years.  I don't mind not having so many leaves to rake, the trees in the surrounding yard are very pretty, but a little vegetation would be nice.  I want a veggie patch, as veggies are expensive and not impressive at the grocery stores.  That may or may not happen this year. I have garden envy of a house down the street that has a 3 or 4 tier vegetable garden built into their hill.

The extreme amount of space we have been blessed with means that taking our time to unpack is easy... out of sight, out of mind, until you want something and have to dig to find the box and then open it up.  We tripped over everything and each other in the apartment for the past 18 months.

The previous owners took their fridge and washer and dryer, so not only did I get a new house for Valentine's Day, I got new appliances.  Unfortunately, Lowe's did not live up to their next day delivery advertising... we ordered them on closing day (Valentine's Day), asked for them to be delivered the following Saturday, and they did not arrive until Monday morning.  Thank God for hubby's parents good cooler!!!! They are working great so far.

Perhaps eventually I'll get back into the blogging groove.  I am thankful for those of you who stick around, or drop by every once in a while to see if I am still here. But for now, we're getting settled into our new place and loving it.

getting closer

And what am I doing instead of packing?  The usual, of course.  Either playing online or crocheting.
I am happy to report that the house should be ours in 2 weeks.  If all goes well, we should be moving in less than 3.
\
Part of me is ecstatic.  And part of me is anxious.  Because that's how I roll.  The house... is huge.  Plenty of room for guests.  Lots of wood flowers that are pretty and I am scared of ruining. (Most of them are brand new).  Two staircases inside, one out, a deck, a basement for those tornado watches, plus a tile-floored room that will be great for the kiddos toys and art and craft projects.  So much potential, being almost 2 decades old it does still need some maintenance. 
HAve I mentioned the kitchen?  Thank you God, for a granite Island, stainless sink and brand new dishwasher.   It has a backyard that slopes down then levels out.... prefect for sledding, next winter, I hope.  (Winters are short down here.  I suppose we could get some snow after we move in.)


I've felt in limbo for so long that I don't know if it's possible for me to ever feel settled.

I am going to miss the friends I've begun to make here, Bear will miss her friends at PreK and the others we've gotten to know.  Please come visit.

The good news?  We have friends in East TN who we will get to reconnect with, including my Aunt and Uncle. We'll be closer to friends we left in middle TN, and conveniently  located not far off the interstate on the way East to Gatlinburg.  Who needs a rest area when you can stop at our house? 

Hope I am not speaking too soon

It's not ours yet.  But I had to share some things that hit me about this particular home.  One thing.
We have been looking for a home with a level lot.  This one is sloped and levels out.  As we approached the city where we'll be moving, we noticed an increase of snow on the ground.  Roads were clear, but there was a definite dusting.  When we got into neighborhoods, snowmen were standing tall.  Even though most of the snow had melted by early afternoon, proof remained.


We walked through this particular home.  The layout is practical.  Not overly open, butWe had seen it 2 weeks before, liked it ok, but questioned if the sellers would negotiate.  We'd been through making an offer and walking away once so far.

This time I began to see myself and my family there.  Holding our hands as we walked down the steps from the deck to the back yard.  The kiddos ran down the hill to the level part of the backyard with sheer glee.  Freedom.  As though they hadn't run like that in years. (They have, don't worry, but usually it's tormenting the neighbors below.)

And I had flashbacks.  Memories of being close to my daughter's age, rolling down a similar hill in the first neighborhood that I remember.  Sledding down that hill in the snow. Building a muscular snowman in the front yard and snow forts in the bank in the backyard.  And igloos.

So, the snow is rather infrequent and will probably never hit the amounts I saw during those early years of my life.  But when the occasional winter storm hits, I'll be ready.  Ready to take pictures of my children playing in the snow and tumbling down that hill.  I may even buy a sled on clearance at the end of this winter so we'll be prepared.  If there are any left.

Assuming we get this place, of course.

If the dress could talk

There was a little something unexpected hanging in one of the closets in the home we've put an offer on.  A wedding dress.  My guess is 70's era, it is long sleeved but reminds me a little of my Mom's.  It's in a clear plastic covering, and angled almost as though it's a good luck charm, a superstition of sorts.

You see, most everything else in the house has been removed, besides some odds and ends.  It doesn't make sense that something so special would be left behind forever.  Unless, of course divorce was the culprit of the house sale, but we know that the family has relocated.

We also know that the sellers are the original owners.  They have taken care to prepare what was their home for eighteen years by updating the kitchen and laying hardwood floors throughout.  There are hints about their interests practically within the walls.  One bedroom has built in bookshelves, and flourescent lights, as though it was used as an office, or perhaps a craft or sewing room.  The basement is very utilitarian.  Industrial tiled floor and cabinets indicate somebody was a handyman.  Before you get to the former workshop, their are built in bookcases at the bottom of the steps into the basement.  There's a country-ish wallpapered bathroom down there as well.  Dated, perhaps, but in conjunction with the weathered bench out front and the rabbit figurines in the flowerbed, the fall themed flag hanging above the garage.... this was someone's home. For a long time.

I remember being offended at the first offer we received on our first home.  We countered and eventually closed the deal.  I remember saying goodbye that last time, to the place where I returned after my babies were born, the neighborhood where family, neighbors, and church family welcomed them and encouraged me while I faced the first few weeks of parenthood with my husband several hundred miles away.  I remember planting daffodil bulbs and rose bushes, digging my flowerbed around the mailbox.  My first neighborhood was filled with friends who saw us grow from being newlyweds to parents.  It saddens me to think that my daughter already only remembers bits and pieces about her first home and its surrounding community..

If that dress could talk, would it tell stories of the children whose feet grew from pitter patters to stomps as they went up and down the stairs and down the long upstairs hallway?  Would it recount conversations about plans to install those built in bookcases, arguments, perhaps, about what project to tackle next?  Tears as children were sent off to college somewhere?  Family holidays in the dining room and kitchen area with that big island.  Where did they play monopoly or cards?  Was there a piano in the living room where I hope to place my grandmother's piano? 

I know I should not get attached yet.  I know that it is entirely possible that we may go through all this negotiating and walk away empty handed.

How can you put a price on memories?  On a home that has experienced all the love and changes, on walls that have so many stories they could tell if they could even speak.  Just a house, to some.
They were surprised by our "low" offer, surely, I hope not insulted, though as I think about it I would not be surprised if they were.  We did our research and tried to be fair based on comps, etc... We have our budget, we have saved in hopes of finally purchasing a home that we can stay in for a long time, and we had to remain objective in the process of formulating an offer.

However, that aged wedding dress which has been hung with care reminds me that once upon a time a young family built their dream home, then stayed for a long while, unlike so many of us who have had to be more transient. I hope that negotiations will succeed, and we'll get the chance to make as many priceless memories there as surrounded that dress.

big sigh.

it has occurred to me that as ready as I am to be out of the apartment, we have never regretted our choice to rent first here.
praying for the perfect house to come along, but willing to rent if need be.  it's not like half our stuff is not in storage already.

Pardon my rant

We've had people suggest we can "just rent" until we find that perfect home for us 5 hours away.  I agree, sort of.  At least, to their face.  (We've been looking since October, it's not like we just started this house hunt.)  What I really want to say, is a little bit more like this:

Are you volunteering to pack and move our stuff or pay for the expense twice?  This is not a company paid move.  It comes out of our saving account and takes away from the amount we could invest into a home.   You are welcome to come bring a team of movers or finance both gigs if you would like, but I am not doing this twice if I can help it.  Furthermore, packing with a 5 year old and 2 year old is not easy.

Have you been living in temporary housing situations with half the personal space you are used to for a year and a half?  No?  Then don't tell me I should continue doing so.  Unless you've been living in barracks and fighting for our freedom, or you too have been in an uncomfortable place with unrealistic morons who moved in below you and expect your children to sit still and not play because they are too loud, you really don't have a right to tell me that looking for another apartment is the best choice.  Although I will miss the maintenance help. (Our previous neighbor, who relocated across the country, never called to management to complain, so we can't be THAT loud.  Perhaps she is just a saint.)

The reality is that if we don't find a house that suits us, we will figure it out, we may rent a house or condo without neighbors above or below.  Because buying a home is a huge investment, and one we do want to be confident in.  But really, people,  especially those who don't know us well, it's not as simple and practical as it sounds.  So keep your "sound" advice to yourself unless it's requested.

I had to vent a little bit.   Don't take it personally any more than you would want me to take your well meaning advice as an insult to my intelligence.

Thank God for hotel points!

I think Hubby calculated that between our house hunting trips and the August trip to Memphis, we've used 9 free hotel nights.  So I am currently very grateful for his travel, though lately Bear has commented about how much she misses him when he is away for work.  Our future home base is en route by detour from where we spent Christmas, and we stopped in to view 3 homes today.  Each kiddo is sleeping with a parent because it just works better than way when we're in hotels.  I completely forgot to pack our swimsuits, but I did get to take a quick trip to the superstore by myself, and Bear and I split some hot chocolate from the lobby.  Those count as vacation moments, right?  Since Buddy got carsick about 35 minutes up the road from our first house to view, the kiddos got to help daddy do laundry.  I also got to show Bear where we get ice in the hotel since our fridge does not have any. :)  (The hot chocolate needed help cooling down to drinkable warm chocolate.)  This is not the first house hunting trip we've taken, just the first I have announced publicly.

The chaos is about to set in.  When we are here, near the mountains and lakes, we are increasingly excited about the next phase and ready to find a place to settle.  When we get to our current hometown, I know the reality of leaving some wonderful new friends will set in.  Along with the need-for-meds-inducing-anxiety that may accompany moving.  I will also be reserving waffle fry boxes from my favorite restaurant. (Some of our friends were able to get them for us for our last move.  Last week, I talked to one of our favorite staff members and she said we could ask management to hold some for us here, too.  Whew.)

When it's all said and done, I hope Bear remembers the fun things like hot cocoa making in her jammies and robe, exploring different houses, and our other adventures in preparation for yet another big change.

Like you've always known them

About four years ago, I began blogging as a way to post pictures to share with the Grandparents.  I quickly decided a needed a place of my own, one where I could write about whatever I thought or felt at the moment.  I blame my sister in law for giving me the idea, though her blog is now stagnant.  I quickly found friends from my past who introduced me to other Moms like myself in so many ways.  Our situations were different, but we found ourselves discussing parenting, individuality, and whatever randomness crossed our minds.  Blogging became therapy during difficult transitions, my new friends like an extended family of sorts.

One of those friends moved to the area where we happen to be visiting, er, overstaying our welcome. (I hope it doesn't feel that way to our hosts, and that I am just anxious about all that needs to get done upon our return South.)  And she and her family came over last night.

It was wonderful.  To see someone you have laughed with and cried with in this virtual reality called cyberspace, to give them a hug or two as if you have known each other forever.  To find that they are as honest and real and fun to talk to in person, and that bond you share from communicating is not just imagined, a nd the pseudonym is easily replaced by her real name.

When it all starts coming together, it's still a little crazy.

Of course, with me involved, I think crazy is expected.  We have some big changes coming within the next 2 months.  No, I am not pregnant and delivering a child in record time.  No, we're not welcoming another adopted child into our family. (In case you missed, oh, wait, I have not blogged about it- my sister adopted an adorable baby boy about 2 months ago.  He is awesome.)

The kitchen I last posted about?  Will be a memory, Lord willing replaced by one with twice as many cabinets and storage space.  (I don't think that's too much to expect given the measurements of what I deal with.)

The teenagers playing loudly in the complex pool at 1 a.m. during the summer?  Will be the problem of the neighbor below us, who have lived here MAYBE a month and already complained about the resident elephants in our apartment at 7:30 p.m.  (I told property management that we were working with the kiddos, but I don't appreciate going onto my balcony and breathing in cigarette smoke.  Or my bathrooms.  Their smoke comes up through the walls.)

I will be glad to have a real mailbox again, not one reminiscent in size to the little cubbies we had in the dorm in college.

I will park my car in the garage, period.  Hubby can have the driveway until we get everything sorted through after the move.  I have to wrangle the munchkins, I get the parking.  Or maybe we'll get a 3 car.

I will send out "we've moved!" announcements.  OR perhaps I will just send e-mails and wait til next Christmas. (That looks likely at this rate.)

Grumpiness aside, things ARE going well.  Can't go into details, but God continues to show his faithfulness in all the details, timing is everything, and we know that He'll show the next steps (including whether to rent our buy once we leave the apartment.

The holidays are magical to kids.  There's a lot I could probably learn from them.  We have a small little tree, a cramped apartment, and my kids are loving the lights and decorations we put up, making treats to bring to our relatives, and dreaming of snow.  We live in central Georgia.  It's in the 60's on this first day of Winter.  But we are headed north, so it's not an unreasonable thing to get excited about.

One of my friends shared yesterday that she wants to bang her head against the wall.  I feel the same way quite often.  But I can only imagine how brain injury might impact this particular breed of crazy. ;-)

Another friend (Farm Wife)  reminisced about the multitude of moves she has endured in her lifetime... I may just have to think back on my moves, but I know it can't be as many as she has been through. :)

Culinary Therapy

I hate my kitchen.  It's tiny.  There is almost no counter space: 2 feet above the dishwasher, next to the sink, one foot on either side of the stove.

Well, it has been a handy excuse not to cook this past 15 months in the apartment.  We eat out a lot.  But occasionally, I actually WANT to cook, and I actually want to enjoy the process.  When DH is out of town, I pretty much give up and we eat out a lot.

Tonight, in hopes that DH might be home in time for supper, I decided to make a good meal.  Plus, I do get weary of eating out. You never know when one of the lil'uns is going to reach their breaking point. So, the kiddos and I got to work.  That's right, they helped.  Sort of.  They fought over the step stool.  Bear helped spread butter and brown sugar on the butternut squash (Buddy tried to help, too.  Mostly, he just hung on our legs and got in the way.)  Then she helped stir the seasoning mixture for the pork chops. We distracted buddy in the living room, then I let her help slide the dishes into the oven.

I made some veggie penne pasta by Rizoni, seasoned with Pampered Chef's rosemary blend seasoning, garlic salt and butter for the side. 

Meat entree:

Baked pork chops, seasoned with fresh cilantro, fresh-squeezed lemon juice, pepper, garlic and olive oil

Dessert:
Sweet baked butternut squash (it was really small... I didn't want to buy a big one and not like it)

Can't pretend right now

The emotional roller coaster of having taken my 2 year old to the ER after a fall on Tuesday is rough.  I expected it to be hard on Tuesday night when I got home.  My sister in law's presence was truly a sanity saver.  She drove down and met us at the hospital, arriving after B had just begun to recover from his fall, and then brought us home. The past 2 days, I have experienced sheer relief and thankfulness.  Today, the reality of what happened and what could have happened has hit.  I am not blaming myself, though at times I do feel like an idiot for stepping so away and turning around, assuming little daredevil was behind me.  I cannot count the number of times his Daddy or I has prevented what he did from happening.  I should have known better.


I keep experiencing affirmations that I did the right thing by calling 911, that I was not imagining my son's strange state, that something was really, terribly wrong, even if just for a couple of hours.  That Someone, our Heavenly Father, sent some guardian angels to cushion his fall and protect him from brain or spinal injury.

The accident occurred at nap time.  Only he went from running around, wearing himself out one minute, to barely staying awake the next.  That is not normal.  Case in point:  I tucked him in for nap around 2:15 today. His bedroom is on the other side of the wall from my bathroom, and I could hear him playing.  He often resists nap. An hour and a half later, I let Sissy open the door and let him out of his room.  He never slept.

In contrast, while we were in the ambulance on Tuesday, he fell into a nearly undisturbable sleep.  If he opened his eyes at all (he did a couple of times), he did not turn his head to look at me, he did not talk, he barely responded to my voice.  It was not normal.  We kept tickling him, tugging at him, telling him to "wake up."  He didn't wake up until just before we arrived at the hospital, when the EMT tried to get an IV in him just in case.  The EMT's said they saw his limbs move with the startle response, but that was not the same as the neck hugs and slobbery kisses I knew.  He didn't reopen his eyes until just before we arrived at the hospital, and that was because the EMT tried to get an IV in him just in case. He said, "ouch. no" and whimpered a bit, but still did not look at me. He let them put a precautionary oxygen tube in his nostrils.  My boy who won't keep hats on his head most of the time was laying as still as a sardine in a can.  His neck brace didn't seem to phase him.  As they opened the door to carry him into the hospital, he did squeeze my hand when I squeezed his.  A little.  That was the beginning of getting my son back. I kept reminding myself that after the 20 second loss of consciousness as I cradled him on the mulch, he had reached up for me, he had asked for mama before leaving me again.  Finally, Hope crept in.

I can't dwell on the what ifs.  But at the moment, I can't even imagine taking him to a playground right now.  Not without Daddy, and even then, I don't know if I'll be able to handle it.  I was supposed to go to MOPS today.  The CT scan showed that the sinus crud he has fought was indeed some kind of an infection, so we got him on antibiotics yesterday afternoon.  And after dropping Sissy off at school, I confess... I couldn't let my boy out of my sight, even for 2 hours.

Maybe I'll feel better when my partner gets home from being 10 hours away tonight.  I hope so.  I know I can't shelter him from everything, and eventually he will learn not to jump off of 4 foot platforms trying to reach the monkey bars like his big sister.  But I'd rather keep him safe until he can jump safely.

pardon me while i type one handed.  my son is snuggled against my tummy, and i'm holding him a bit tighter tonight.  i've heard the saying that goes something like, "having a child is like letting your heart walk around outside your body."  i thought i knew what that meant the day my daughter was born. then, when she had her first bout of dehydration and daddy took her to the e.r.  while i stayed home with baby brother.  i thought i knew that saying's meaning then, too.

of course, there are times when they are so happy that my heart wells up with pride and joy for them.  but today i experienced the terror of worrying about my baby on a new level.

the kids had been angels when we went the voting poll, and they were pretty good when we went to lunch at a local restaurant on the square.  (little man was so filled up on pretzels and goldfish that he was not hungry, but he did not have any fits, so that qualifies as a success in my book.)

just before two o'clock we pulled into the apartment complex, checked the mail, and instead of parking and going inside for naptime, i decided to go to the playground for a few minutes.

i thought b was just behind me when i turned around to look at something that caught my eye.  the reality was that he was straight on sissy's tail as she made her way to the monkey bars.  at the top of a four foot high platform...
*****
11 pm 11/2:  Both kiddos are in bed sound asleep.

As I remember... as I said, I had turned around for a second, thinking B was running near me.  THUD.  cry. "Oh, S***!!!!!  God, no!"  My heart raced as I ran toward my baby boy, who was face down under the monkey bars.  Scared to pick him up, but dying to at the same time, I rolled him over to lay him flat.  He looked at me, but his stare was rather blank.  I noticed scrapes on the side of his forehead and above his cheekbone, but the bleeding was minimal.  He closed his eyes.  I grabbed my cell phone and dialed 911.  Their staff was superb, staying on the line with me, helping me calm down.  The 20 seconds or so his eyes were closed seemed like an eternity, but when he opened them he reached up and hugged my neck tightly.  I breathed a huge sigh of relief, but was still worried.  911 lady kept talking to me as we waited for the ambulance, H stayed close, asking if her baby brother was ok but also somehow staying really, really calm and collected while Mommy went back and forth from near hysterics to deep breaths and hopefulness.  A little 6 year old boy had come over from his apartment to play and matter of factly told me that he fell off a play gym once.  (His mom was on her patio across the parking lot and she came over to see what was going on, too.) We heard the ambulance near, they pulled up on the other side of the park area and H ran over to show them where we were.  The 3 EMT's/Firefighters came over, immediately began checking B's vitals and asked what happened.  At that point, B was sitting in my lap facing out, eyes open but very quiet.  He kept blinking as though he would fall asleep, and he was getting less responsive.  When they first arrived, there was a possibility that I could drive him to the county hospital with a pediatric unit 20 minutes away, but we quickly determined he needed to go to the Children's Hospital of Atlanta for care.  So one of the EMT's grabbed H's car seat out of our car (which was next to the play ground, thank God, as we had driven there in stead of parking and walking over from our building).  B's vitals remained strong, but he kept falling asleep, and it wasn't long before he would not open his eyes when tickled.  Of course, it was also his nap time, and the EMT tried to encourage me to be hopeful since I had told him that B was a heavy sleeper.  However, I knew this was not my little bouncing baby boy's normal behavior.  And it terrified me.  He remained basically unresponsive, or extremely limited in his responses, for the next 2 hours or so.

In the ambulance, Big Sis sat in her car seat and observed, mostly.  I had tried to call 2 local friends, and succeeded in texting one to share the news, but there just wasn't time to leave big sis anywhere.  And with Daddy out of state, I also felt like she needed to be with us.  She thought it was cool that we were flying past all the other vehicles on the highway.  The EMT's and I kept trying to awaken him, but his sleep seemed to grow deeper... until they stuck him to give him an IV port just in case.  Then he whimpered a little and said "ouch."  While I hated to see him hurt, I knew that at least he was feeling things.

The rest of the evening is a blur.  Hospital staff took H to another room to color and do some crafts, B had already been assigned a tag bracelet, and he was whisked into triage, followed shortly by a CT scan of the head and a x-ray of the c-spine.  This is where Hope crept in.  My boy began to come back to me.  In the CT room, a projector displayed a rotating sea-life scene on the ceiling above the table.  "Look, mama. Fish. Water."  He pointed to the ceiling.  He was laying still.  The only time my 2 year old boy lays that still is when he sleeps.  When we moved down the hall to X-ray, he saw pumpkin and cat decals on the ceiling and identified them.  I explained to him that a big camera was going to take his picture, and asked him to look at the camera and say "cheese."  He kept talking about the pumpkin, the cat, and the camera.  For this scan, they even had to repeat a lateral film because he had moved his head while I helped hold his arms down flat.

His improvement continued while we waited in his ER room.  He laid flat far longer than I had expected him to, but soon, he began rolling around.  He was wearing a neck brace as a precaution, and it was not very long until he sat up.  Shortly after that, Aunt Sara arrived, having survived rush hour traffic in Atlanta.  Oh, how grateful I am for her tonight.

The nurses came in periodically to check his vitals, and he became increasingly more normal.  His movement set of the equipment alarms.  He pretended the TV remote was a telephone and called the nurses station for help by pressing the button as he talked on his "phone."  He sang "the wheels on the bus go round and round."  While he likes that song, I can't help but wonder if it because he knew he was in an ambulance (because we told him so) or rolling down the hall on a cot. 

Sitting up-with his neck brace on- in his ER room

Finally, the doctor came in and authorized his release as his test were fine, and not a moment to soon.  He showed her how he could stand on his bed and step up onto the railing while he hugged mommy's neck... with all his wires still attached.
As we drove home and the sky darkened, he sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" from his cousin's car seat. Big Sis fell asleep pretty quickly, but in the parking garage she told Aunt Sara that she did not like it when her brother got hurt.
 (Thank God for babies in the family!  We did not grab his car seat when we took Sissy's.)  As we waited in the drive through at Chik-fil-A, he exclaimed "chicken!"  And of course, when we pulled into our complex, he asked for the playground.  I asked him if the playground was fun or scary.  "Fun."  But at one point I think he also said "Playground hurt."

As the evening progressed, we ate our dinner, watched a movie, and he began to play with the teddy bear he was given at the hospital (while at the hospital he was not really interested in it.)  He wanted me to put his neck brace (yeah, I kept it) on the bear, along with the disposable pressure cuff the nurse had put on it.  Then he told the bear to "wake up!" just like we had been telling him in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, when he had that glassy eyed look on his face (if his eyes were open at all).

He set his teddy bear on his pillow, then climbed into bed next to it.

Later, as I tucked Big Sis into bed and sang "You are my sunshine" as one of her lullabies, she changed the lyrics to "please don't take my brother away."  My strong, brave girl did so well through this ordeal, too.

Sara's here with me tonight, I am so glad for the company.  Daddy will be home on Friday as planned, since the test results were ok and our little man is already back to his old self.
****
Thank you to everyone who heard the news through the grapevine and prayed for us today.  Four feet is a really long fall for a 2 year old, and Someone must have heard and softened his fall.

*****
23.5 hours later
11/3/10

My boy is in my lap again, chattering away, pretending a mini slinky is a camera and saying, "cheese."  A few minutes ago, he and H were racing hobby horses around the apartment, and before that he was twirling in circles, throwing himself on the ground  laughing and exclaiming, "hurt! mama! hurt"  But then repeating the cycle.  This is completely normal play for him.

God is so good!

Acting normal Tuesday night