Been thinking

I've had these thoughts spinning around in my head the last few weeks. Between a crashed home computer, non stop action, and the fact that the thoughts wouldn't stop spinning, I haven't been able to type. Tonight, I've hijacked Chris' work laptop, which I'm pretty sure is slower then Chris is right now after surgery.

Anyways, these thoughts. Every night I come home from work and we take care of the kids. Every night they go to bed and one of us cleans up the kitchen. Every night I go to bed with the counters cleared and dishes being washed in the dishwasher. But somehow, every night, I step into that kitchen and I wonder how in the world it became so messy when we spend most of the day away from home.

Then the guilt starts to set in. "I should spend more time with my kids." "I should have a cleaner house." "I should have ensured a healthier dinner tonight." "I need to help Natalie with her school project, when will find time for that?" "How can we possibly be so busy?" Usually, I have the kitchen cleaned back up about the time I have successfully beaten myself down.

Then, a change in thinking. Acceptance. It's something I talk about with people all the time. Now I'm starting to apply it. I'm starting to accept that not only am I not Martha Stewart, most days, I don't want to be. I'm accepting that we will have a messy house. Not dirty or stinky (I've been in some of the worst) but just messy. Each night, my house will look a tornado filled with toys, trash, sippy cups, and gold fish descended and stayed for a long, long time. I will always wish for more time. I'm accepting the busyness. I still don't like it, but until I acknowledge it, we will always be working around it. I'm accepting that I procrastinate. That even if we had every evening free for the two weeks leading up to Natalie's school projects, we probably still would not start it until the last possible moment. It's just who I am. It doesn't mean I won't work towards a better me, but it does mean I let the current me off the hook a bit.

Tonight I was putting Natalie to bed and she asked me to sing, "today has been." My mom sang this song to me growing up, I can close my eyes and still hear her singing it.
"Today has been a busy day,
A long and tiring one too,
So I must go to sleepy town,
My rest is long overdue.
Tomorrow will be another very,
Very busy day.
So I must go to sleepy town,
And fall asleep right away,
Yes, I must go to sleepy town,
And fall asleep right away."

Tonight I played with Natalie's hair and wondered what my mom thought about when she sang this song to me. Then I had to smile. Anyone that knew me growing up, knows we didn't keep a perfectly straight house. Mom always tells me she was going to teach me not to procrastinate, but never got around to it. We were super busy. And yet, I have to work to remember all of that. Memories that easily come are being sung to before bedtime, eating together almost every night, going to church, and having friends over. Somehow all of that was greater then the house. Somehow her love for us was simply what mattered.

So I closed Natalie's door tonight. I walked into the kitchen and smiled. Instead of beating myself up tonight, I called my mom. I talked with her while I was cleaning the kitchen. Then I laughed a lot when I heard the toilet flush through the phone. "I'm not going to the bathroom," she said, "I'm just cleaning the toilet while we talk."

Very thankful today that I'm more like my mom all of the time. I used to deny that, but I'm grateful for her. I would like to be more her then Martha any day, any time.

A life

I was sitting at a patients house yesterday. We were talking about his family, his friends, and his illness. He had the television on in the background. His daughter and his friend pointed out the news. The headline talked about a fatal accident. A young woman was killed. One of the family members commented about how they were glad they were not stuck in that traffic.

They continued on with their discussion of family. I kept thinking about their statement. Really? Traffic? The news said someone died and that was their response? I was a little shocked that in the face of death of their own family member a family can be so casual towards the death of another human being.

This morning, I found out that this accident took the life of my co-worker's niece. She was seven months pregnant. As I listened to her tears and hugged her with all my might, I thought back to that family. This was a life.

There was another car accident yesterday. This one took the life of one of my coworkers. He was driving one of our vans and in an instant, he was gone. I was reading the news stories on line and was again shocked by the comments. So many people talked about distracted drivers and tractor trailers. Nothing in this story said either driver was distracted. I was baffled. You can see in the picture of the accident, the side of our van that says, "living better with Community Hospice." The story discussed he was one of our employees. We are a huge hospice, I can imagine we have cared for some of the loved ones who commented such harsh things under that story. This was a life.

Today, I am driving down Blanding to another patients house. I'm in the right hand lane and there on the sidewalk is a man. He is laying flat on his back, bags everywhere around him, and a bike that look wrecked. He is not moving. I pull over to a parking lot as fast as I could. I have to walk a bit to reach him down the side walk. As I walked around my car a store owner came out and yelled, "we've already called 911." I asked if the man had responded to him. The store owner admitted he hadn't actually checked on him. He again stated he called 911 a few minutes ago and they should be here soon. I simply start walking towards the man and the store owner tells me to be careful. Really? He does not appear to be conscious, in broad daylight, in front of a bank, and eight lanes of traffic. I think I should check on him. The owner goes with me and after a series of events too long to type, the paramedics arrive. I give them what little information the now talking, incoherent, drunk man with seizures has given to me and I go on my way. As I walk back up the sidewalk it occurred to me that this store owner had said he called 911 several minutes before I stopped. Eight lanes of traffic for several minutes, I bet hundreds of cars drove by a man obviously hurt on a sidewalk. This is a life.

I'm always a bit on the cynical side. But tonight, I am in awe. When did we get so cold and so shallow? When did we get so busy and scared? When did we stop being so shaken by death. Wait, we didn't. We are only shaken by death when it directly impacts us. Otherwise, we complain about the traffic, assume someone is fine, and keep on rushing through life.

In a way, I'm glad that traffic gets backed up when there is a fatal accident. I think it's the only way some of us will pause. Which is very, very, sad.

We are all just one life.

Question of the day

So here's a scenario. If a person chooses to stay home with her children and raise them then gets cancer she does not qualify for social security disability because she has not worked enough quarters. If that girl's only source of income is now a small amount of alimony because her husband left during all the cancer, she then makes too much for social security income. So the girl now cannot qualify for Medicaid or afford health insurance, meaning she has no way to pay for treatment. Same girl comes to hospice. She is now eligible for Medicaid because she is a hospice patient; however, if she leaves hospice to pursue treatment, she loses the Medicaid. So here's the question: when exactly are we going to actually fix our completely messed up health care system?

Interesting

Many of you know Mamaw. She is my wonderful Grandmother who is among the most faithful of God's children on this earth. She is a prayer warrior who has loved me since forever. She is eighty four and had a bad fall almost two weeks ago. Nothing broken, but at eighty four it takes a while to recover from a good jarring of bones.

I was struck by the irony of bodies young and old tonight while watching Micah. I was giving him a bath and constantly telling him to sit back down. He loves to stand in the tub. When I tell him to sit down, he just plops right back down on his bottom and jumps to do it again. I thought about how he doesn't even seem to notice the impact on his little body. He is young and resiliant and designed to fall these days. When we get older, our bodies just aren't as ready to take a fall. I certainly do not like to think of Mamaw as older. Rationally, I know she is eighty four. In my heart, she's in her sixties.

All week, I have been praying for Mamaw to recover more quickly then she can imagine. I've been praying for her pain to ease and for her to get back home soon. She and Papaw have a sixty fifth wedding anniversary to celebrate on September 1st.

But tonight, in a God ordained moment, I have some extra words of prayer as well. While I was cleaning today, God carefully placed in my hands a card that Mamaw mailed me over three years ago. This is what she wrote:

"Dear Allison, Chris, and Natalie,
May God bless you with Everything that is good and wonderful, with daily strength and everlasting joys. And may He keep you safe and protect you. May He always smile upon you, and may His presence be your daily reward."

Tonight, Mamaw, I'm praying these words for you.
And I'm wondering for those of you reading this, if you'll say these words for Mamaw too?

Mamaw,
I love you so very much! Thanks for being you!

Number One Birthday.

Dear Micah,

What a difference one simple year makes. This time last year all seven pounds and eleven ounces of you laid in my arms swaddled in blue. Now you look like quite the little man running circles around the kitchen chasing your sister, our dogs, and sometimes, nothing at all. You just love to move.

You fooled us at first. You appeared so laid back and relaxed. You took everything in stride. Your Daddy and I used to tell people that we thought Natalie was a good baby, until we had you. You slept through the night almost instantly. You ate well. You just went along wherever we were going with no fussing at all. Then, somewhere around six months, you developed quite the stubborn streak. Today, you are much more stubborn then Natalie, for this reason, I'm really curious about this next year with you.

You don't like anything the first time it is offered. You have finally decided that food is okay. We are still trying to convince you that sippy cups are pretty cool too. You LOVED the cake tonight and had a blast tearing it apart. You have learned to use some sign language. You sign "eat", "more", and "milk". Your favorite is "more" which you sign constantly while eating Cheerios. You can say "bye bye" "da da" "mama" and "cocha" (meaning our dog Mocha, who is your favorite thing ever).

Speaking of favorite things, you follow Natalie EVERYWHERE. When she laughs, you laugh. When she cries, you cry. On several occasions, when she goes to time out, you go and sit beside her in the hall way. It's been fun to watch you two interact and love on each other.

You have spent this first year at work with Daddy. Pastor Logan, Ms. Laura, Uncle Robert, Aunt Joene, and several church people have helped us make this possible. As a result, you are a Daddy's Boy. You preach, waving your arms in the air and jabbering away. You love to dance and others love to watch you. You move your arms up and down and shake your little bottom in perfect time. You dance anytime you hear music and most always, you keep dancing till the music stops. You love to play catch with anyone who will throw the ball back to you. You will run across any room to get a ball. Your most favorite thing is to throw the ball on top of Mocha, maybe soon, you'll teach her to fetch.

You go to sleep every night between 7:30 and 8:00. Most of the time you now sit and read a couple of stories with Natalie. Then Daddy or Mommy sing you Jesus Love Me and lay you down for sleep. Although you are asleep you keep moving and spinning. Even in your dreams you are on the move.

You run hard, play hard, dance hard, snuggle hard, and laugh deeply and hard. My prayer for you is that you always finish tasks with the same persistence and determination you have shown us this first year of your life. I pray you Love God all the time and love others, even when it's hard. I pray you and Natalie always interact and love each other. I pray you grow up to be a man of integrity, easy to give and receive Grace and constantly moving forward in your relationship with the God who gave you to us.

I love you, I love you, I love you, Micah boy!!!

Forever, for always, no matter what...

Happy Birthday!

Today, you are four...

Dear Natalie,

In keeping with the tradition of the last few years, I'm going to share with you some things about you today, the day you turned four.

1. A lot has changed for you this year, you have a new baby brother, you started dance classes, had your first "girl fight", requested many items for your clothing/accessories and was tall enough to ride your first roller coaster.

2. You are an amazing big "sissy." In fact, you won't let us call you Natalie much anymore. You insist we call you sissy.

3. You LOVED your dance class. You did awesome job in your recital. You knew the moves and even went ahead of the teacher in a few songs. Even though you were one of the few three year olds on stage, you were one of the tallest kids. We are still not sure where that height comes from.

4. You are an absolute dare devil. While riding a real roller coaster, that you were exactly tall enough for, you giggled, threw your hands in the air, and pointed out the scenery. The faster and sharper it turned, the more you laughed. When we got off, you asked to ride in the front car. When we did, you loved it even more.

5. You can read all your letters and numbers. You can write Natalie Hall without any assistance from us. You color in the lines and get very irritated when other's don't.

6. You still love reading books and after just a few times, you usually have them memorized and "read" them to us.

7. You are very into practical jokes, especially with your Daddy.

8. You are a monkey, climbing on everything. You are obsessed with the monkey bars to the point of blisters on your little hands. You leap from your swing set and had to be stopped before you rode your pink horse down the slide.

9.You still like for things to be organized. On more then one occasion, you have to declared to us that our house is a mess. However, it must be said that you are usually the last one to help clean up.

10. You can get an attitude. You say "hmphh" when you don't like something, you cross your arms and stick your head in the air. This has resulted in many time outs for you.

11. You really love to be around people. You get upset when we aren't going anywhere after school.

12. You know how to use our cell phones to call grandparents and others. You know how to call 911. The other day, you picked up your play phone and said, "lets see...I need to check the weather."

13. You will do anything for a slushie. It's the best reward for you ever.

14. You taught us a big lesson in love and forgiveness. After you first real girl drama with "mean girl" we were talking. Mommy suggested you be best friends with someone nicer in your class, who likes you for you. You asked if you could still be mean girls friend. Mommy told you yes, but just suggested finding another best friend. You then said, "Mommy I want to be her best friend, cause God is our best friend even we are mean and not nice. He love us all the time." And sweet girl, you are right.

Our prayer is that you always love God and love others with such a passion. God never calls us to love only a little bit and you my baby love bigger then anyone. Blessings all over you.

We love you forever, for always, no matter what.

The Mood

I have had one of those generally sad, really down days today. Part of this is most likely post vacation slump. Some of it is I really miss my family. A bit is that Natalie is about to be four in a couple of days and I can't believe how that is possible. Her birthday is followed by Micah's and I feel like I've spent less time with him in his first year then I ever imagined I would. These thoughts lead me to the fact that I still don't have a part time job. We still need my job for health insurance. Blah, blah, blah.

I have noticed though. Nothing subtle about it. I've seen it. Several times it made me smile. And right now, I'm reminding myself of it. So I type in order to acknowledge it.

It? God has been sending a lot of things my way to encourage me. More then usual. Enough extra encouragement that it got funny. Enough to make me realize He was initiating it. Enough to get my attention. I almost feel like with every blow today, He followed it with something good.

I walked into a gas station and the cashier sees my badge and says, "psychosocial specialist???" I tell her, in my very Eeyore mood, "that's just a fancy word for social worker." I might as well have said, "thanks for noticing me." Anyways, she says, "hospice, girl, you all are guardian angels...my mom died in February...just angels, thank you."

It was genuine. Not the "I could never work that job". Not "I don't know how you do it." Just a real, honest, genuine thank you.

My very random co worker grabs me this morning and tells me about a book she is reading. She's tells me this whole part today about being where God has placed you. And you don't have to look for His will because He puts you in it. I walked away breathing a little easier. I hadn't realized breathing was hard.

Another visit with a very tearful wife. She too says "thank you" again and again. For little things, like gloves and diapers and hugs. I can give her this stuff all day.

I had to implement a medication contract with a patient and family today. I had to be real tough. It's not a fun part of my job, although, it can be funny. Our doctor visited the same patient later in the day. She left me a message saying I must have put the fear of God in that family cause they told her everything she needed to know. She said if it made me feel better, they all really missed me last week while I was gone. That did indeed make me feel better.

I made cupcakes with Natalie today. She is really, really, funny.

I had a readmission for an elderly lady that I discharged last year. I was sad to see her name again, but looking forward to reconnecting. I spoke with her daughter on the phone. We talked a lot about her role as a caregiver. Daughter says to me, " I don't know what I'll do when she dies, but I know one thing for sure. When you finish a ministry, God just gives you another one."

He sure does. He sure does. He sure does.

Constant encouragement all day. Yet I still sit here, very melancholy. Very unlike me. I think in my own way, all of this is simply to tell God:

Thanks for noticing me. I know You have some very big things to do today, but I noticed you, noticing me. And I really appreciate it.

Upon further inspection

A picture to follow soon, but I must share our discovery of the evening. This year Momma Duck has not been sitting on her eggs during the day. Each morning there is simply another egg in the nest. We got home late tonight and Momma Duck was here. She hissed at us and acted like we hadn't done this last year. But then, I got down near her level and gasped. We did this last year, but I'm pretty sure it was not with this Momma Duck. After taking a picture of Momma Duck on her now at least 11 eggs we are shocked. I'll upload a couple of pics for comparison later, maybe she has changed. But for tonight, I'm thinking this might be Momma Duck the sequel.

Ordinary day

I spoke to my mom in the morning. Went to a meeting for work. Picked up a new orientee for hospice and drove her all around to see patients. Did some paperwork. Looked at Natalie's school stuff. Fought traffic. Watched people mowing their grass. Looked as a young woman struggled to carry an infant car seat up a flight a stairs. Played with kids.



Sandwiched in between all this ordinary stuff, I was in and out of one of my youngest patients home. I needed to assess his orientation. When I asked him what day it was, he barely opened his eyes, but gave a big smile. "My wedding day." And, he was right. They moved the day closer, per his request. He is not well. And, I, wonderful little me, had to talk with him about a do not resuscitate order on his wedding day. His bride and mom sat with us while he signed it. His little boy ran around the room. People were hanging balloons while my nurse hung another IV bag of pain medicine. Somehow, I don't think this is how he pictured it all to be. His grandfather came in and sobbed. His dad and other family members looked at me and said, "we have to stop meeting like this." Because of other times and other patients, I'm sure I look like the angel of death to this family.



I left to meet the doctor. That's when I fought the traffic, watched the people, and wondered at the amazement of ordinary life. People in this line of traffic are acting as if their life hangs on the balance of the next red light. I see his bright yellow DNR on my seat. I'm sure I'm the only one in line who is in an actual life or death situation and I'm not in any rush. By the time I get to my doctor, I'm tearful. She knows me well enough to know this is no ordinary day for me. She signs DNR, offers words of encouragement and tells me to go home soon. By the time I get back, they are married and he is sound asleep. Family is lingering by his bedside with his new wife curled up next to him. I give some final words to the continuous care nurse and make my own nurse leave. We didn't realize any family members were outside, so they saw us when we both started crying. Some days, some times, it is too much.



The family came running to us. "Is he okay?" I manage out that he is sleeping. Then one of them says, "it's kinda nice to know you all cry too."



Of course I cry. Not all the time, not even on most days with very sad patients.



But today, well today, is just no ordinary day.

But she's three!!!

I've had a fairly traumatizing weekend. It started with the now famous shoe request. This request seemed to come out of left field. But, I figured she saw a commercial. Then, late Saturday night, Natalie and I had our first real girl talk. We had just finished stories and were about to pray when she told me that a girl in her class (I'll call her mean girl because that's the nicest thing I can come up with) told her she could not be her "best friend." Natalie goes on to say that now that she has the same shoes, she can be her best friend.

I'm screaming in my head. "She's three!!!"

So we talk. We talk about how we can be friends with anyone. We talk about how if someone will only be your friend because of your shoes, clothes, or hair, then they will probably not be a good friend to you anyway. Natalie has a good friend in her class so I say, "well, who is your best friend?" (I'm thinking we'll talk about why and how he is nice and fun, etc). She says the name I think she will and then says, "he says I can't be friends with anyone except him."

"SHE'S THREE!!!"

So now, we talk about how no one can decide who we are friends with but us. Then after lots of love and reassurance, I put her to bed, because I'm exhausted.

Fast forward through church where she loved showing off her sketchers. Now to Monday morning when she can't wait to get to school. She was sooooo excited.

Now, last night. I get back a sadder version of my little girl. It turns out, mean girl, told her that her shoes were ugly. ( I would like to nail mean girl to the wall but that's for another story.) Natalie says her shoes are almost like mean girls, but Natalie's has a heart where mean girls does not. Natalie says she does not like her sketchers anymore.

"SHE IS THREE!!!"

I took a deep breath. Then she and I went to ride her bike. I reminded her that she really liked her sketchers yesterday and this morning. She agreed. Then she says Mean girl is smart. I tell her that she is smart too and only Natalie gets to decide what she likes and doesn't like. This appears to be a revelation to her. She likes her sketchers again.

So this morning we have a new quote at our house. It starts with a high five.

Me saying: "High five"
Natalie: "High five"
Me: " I decide"
Natalie "I decide"
Me: "what I like"
Natalie: "what I like"
Me: "not you!"
Natalie: "not you!"
Me: "just me"
Natalie: "just me"
Me: " I decide"
Natalie: "I decide."

She walked out the door saying this. I stepped back, took a deep breath and talked myself out of finding mean girl. My social work brain says she has a whole lot of problems. My mommy brain doesn't care about anything but Natalie. I look in the mirror to make sure I look alright for work. I laugh when I realize, I could stand to repeat my own new slogan. Maybe it would do us all some good....

"High five! I decide, what I like, not you, just me, I decide!!!"

For today, I do not like mean girls. Probably not for tomorrow either.

Any advice? Because she is almost four. :-)

The trinity and beyond...

Okay, anyone reading this will know that I've always had an issue with the word trinity. I can give you at least a dozen reasons why, but two are the most essential.

1.) It is a feeble, human, attempt to define a God who exceeds all definition.

2.) My God is bigger then a triangle.

Without delving into a huge Biblical discussion here, let me say I believe in the general concept behind said word. God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit exists as one in perfect relationship far beyond my comprehension.

I've had a MILLION conversations with many people who attempt to convince me of this word. They usually only further convince me not to say it by now defining God as a triangle, water, pie, or my personal favorite, an egg. It's not that I don't understand what people are trying to say about the trinity...it's that others seem to be comfortable defining God in a place where I am not.

I am simply more comfortable saying, It's an amazing relationship that I will never understand, but pray to be a part of. That's all.

Fast forward to tonight. Natalie is famous for making up songs. She is singing away in the back seat, her new, "church song." The words? "I love church, it's where we go to worship God....something something something...God and Jesus are a circle and I love them."

"A circle?" I think to myself. I can hear the preacher standing in front of a bride and groom explaining the symbol of a wedding band...no beginning, no end, just as the love represented.

God is love. I John 4:7-8.

Hmmm....I like this image much better. A circle. Not three points all pointing in opposite directions, yet connected. A circle. No beginning. No end.

Just absolute perfect relationship.

Pies get cut, water changes based on temperature, eggs break (or get fried on drugs lol), but a regular old circle??? I'm still not comfortable defining God as a shape...but I have to admit, she made me stop and ponder more so then anyone else.

Maybe, just maybe, my three old is on to something here.

Luke 10:21-22

Easter pics

We had a great Easter. A very busy weekend, but I successfully maintained my boycott of Easter sunrise services. This year, for a brief second, I debated attending. That was gone when Chris sneaked out the door before 6 am. Here's to all you early people....I hope it was fun. If you ever decide to make it a midnight early easter morning service (still serving breakfast), I'll be there. Given the adjustment for time zones, I think that's a more appropriate time anyway. :-)

Easter egg hunt pics

Natalie had a little part in the service last week. Each of the kids said something from Psalm 100 and came in waiving palm branches. She was really excited and did a great job. Then for the egg hunt and Easter bunny. This year, she had no fear of the bunny at all. She even got Micah to smile...

The end of the day, Natalie gave Micah his bottle...she really is a great big sister!

Not this time.

Just a little update to share that we didn't get that miracle, at least, not on this side of Heaven.

A reflection

I dreaded meeting this patient all weekend. I had heard the report on Friday. I knew the "story." She wanted to go home to die. She is finally through with the treatment. She is very, very, sick. She probably won't make it another week. But, she really wants to be at home. I quickly called my supervisor and suggested the hospital social worker talk with her. She has little kids, does she want them to see her die? They sent the hospital social worker, who is wonderful, but she wants to be at home.

So, I go. She's six months from my age. I walk in the room and see a young husband, like mine, giving medicine through a pump. I see her toddler snuggled next to her on her bed. I've prayed all day to be composed in this moment. So far, for the first thirty seconds, I'm composed. They shoo their toddler out of the room so they can talk. They use words and phrases that are common at my house these days. I'm more then rattled.

After some small talk, I manage out something like, "okay, look, I've dreaded seeing you." She looks a bit confused, but I continue. "We are about the same age, we both have little kids, and I know in my heart that if I were in your position, there is nothing that I could say to you today to make this any better or different. So I'm just here to help walk with you, whatever that looks like, I'm here." She smiles. We chat for a while a longer and she says,

"We are still praying for our miracle."

I hear that a lot with this work. I believe miracles can happen. I don't pray for them enough, because, well, I rarely see them. I pray for my patients. I don't recall ever asking for the healing miracle though. In three years of patients, I've only seen the healing type of miracle once. That was a lady in her nineties, which, given today, makes no sense at all. I assure her that miracles can happen, but also encourage her to prepare as best she can. After all, none of us are promised tomorrow.

After a while, I chat with her husband and some others, then I leave. I sit in my car for a long time. I bowed my head, closed my eyes, opened my hands and prayed.

I asked God to give her a miracle. A healing miracle. I asked that she would see her kids grow up. And since I was so blatantly reminded of my own mortality today, I prayed this evening that I would get to see my kids grow up too.

Every day, I see two miracles. They are currently three and six months old.

It's about time I start recognizing them as such.

Scaring pregnant women

Today, I accidentally scared a poor pregnant woman. It happened in Babies R Us...probably the least likely place to scare a pregnant woman. Everything there makes this baby thing look easy and pretty and wonderfully cute.

Enter me.

We have seen a new side of Micah over the last few weeks. It's this stubborn child who can will his mouth shut at the mere glimpse of anything other then boob or bottle. We have made numerous attempts to get him to eat cereal or bananas. Tonight, he finally barely parted his lips enough to squeeze some of the spoon in his mouth.

We found out yesterday that he has an ear infection. So now, we must give him an antibiotic. Yesterday we would squeeze a little medicine and stuff the pacifier in his mouth so he would swallow.

So I go to Babies R Us in search of the pacifier medicine dropper. I am convinced this will make my dreams come true. This will be the best invention known to mothers.

I can't find it.

I'm looking at the medicine droppers. Not there. I look with pacifiers. Not there either. Then I hear this voice on the other side of the aisle saying, "How do I know what nasal aspirator to choose?"

I walk around to see a pregnant lady with the coveted registry gun. She is there with her sister in law (I think) and her mom. I spot the pacifier I want, but they are blocking it. So I wait, but finally say, "excuse me" and reach for it.

The pregnant lady says, "what is that?" Now, I don't want to scare her, so I explain I have a cute little bundle at home who just really likes his pacifier so hopefully this will help him.

"It sure did not help mine." says her sister in law.

"Really?" I say, now very discouraged and forgetting about prego girl.

"Well, what did you do?" Says the mom. "Yes, do you have any suggestions?" I said.

"I don't think I should tell you." She says.

I'm desperate. "PLEASE..." I'm now begging.

"well, you see, we tried the paci, he spit it out. We tried everything. So, well, my son was about nine months... my husband almost sat on him, then I cradled his head under my armpit, we pushed the dropper as far back in his mouth as possible, kinda like a dog, because if you get it back far enough, the have to swallow...we kept trying to put it in his bottle, but the hole wasn't wide enough...if only they made a bottle medicine dispenser."

Then our eyes looked back at the isle and we both saw it. The bottle dispenser. We rejoiced together over our find. We discussed how I would buy both, because every child is different and maybe mine would like the paci. We talked about how hard sick kids are and how you just never know if your choosing the right thing.

Then, our eyes looked in the same direction again. Back at prego. She didn't look quite so excited. She was rubbing her belly and seemed to be in some far away place. Probably the happy place her lamaze coach told her to go when things get hard.

I let her stay in that happy place....she'll learn soon enough...happy land has a population of two.

The girl in labor and her anesthesiologist.

Some things are better discovered on your own.

A few happy pics

Here are a few recent pictures. Natalie and Chris had a daddy daughter date night, which she loved. She got all dressed up and he took her to one of her favorites...McDonalds. They had a double date with Robert and Avery...she had a blast. The rest are some pics around the house. Everyone is growing fast...

Random life

I've joined the world of facebook. I'm still not sure if I like it or not. It feels like one more thing to do...and right now, I'm so not into that. Our weeks feel long.
Have you ever gone on a really long trip and laid down exhausted at the end of the day? You know when you think back and realize you were at home this morning and now you are in (fill in the blank). Then you think, was that just this morning? Yeah, that's how all my days feel right now.

Not bad days or good days. Just really, really long.

I haven't blogged much lately for the same reasons.

Today, I had a day off. It was nice. Micah and I hung out for a while this morning. It saddened me to realize this was the first day I've had with him since October. It made me more sad to know that I had to ask Chris about Micah's routine. I keep praying, praying, praying that God will open up a part time job for me. I know he's got plans...I'm just waiting to see them.

My heart is just holding a lot of things. I need to journal. Journaling makes blogging easier. Then I can at least organize my thoughts. But for tonight, for right now, I'm just going to ramble.

We registered Natalie for Pre Kindergarten a few weeks ago. Although she is ready, my heart is so not. I watched a video of her today, she had just turned two. I found myself wondering where that little girl went. And, even though she sat on my lap and watched it with me, I was really missing her.

Micah, well, he is Mr Laid Back, I'll do anything while you aren't watching. He is able to get up on all fours now and assume the prime crawling position. Our house is no where ready for this so we are scrambling a bit. It's so funny, with Natalie we did all the tricks to help her crawl. With Micah, we are just watching. She didn't crawl anywhere close to this early, so we figure, he's got time. Poor kid, maybe this is why second children aren't so driven...they aren't as pushed. Parents know better the second time around.

Chris and I had a wonderful date last Saturday. It was good to eat dinner without interruption. We actually had several conversations. It was beautiful.

Work, is still work and ministry is still hard. I love Hospice, I hate all the paperwork, productivity standards, and Medicare driven patient care. Enough of this.

I'll close with something I read on Megan's facebook...it spoke to my heart this evening, here's to hoping it speaks to yours as well...

Life breaks and falls apart, but we know these are
Places where Grace is soon to be amazing.
They may be unfulfilled, they may be unresolved,
But when anything that’s shattered
Is laid before the Lord
Just watch and see-It will not be Unredeemed

You never know the miracles the Father has in store
Just watch and see-
It will not be Unredeemed.
Lyrics from Selah

Let's recap shall we?

Last night I was sleepily feeding Micah and reading Natalie her bed time stories. I ran my hand through her hair and felt something weird. I parted her hair and was suddenly very wide awake. Their in my little girl's head was a tick. It was awful. As calmly as I could muster, I instructed her to go to the bathroom and I laid Micah down in his crib. I looked again and this time, I could see it's stupid back legs moving. I was verging on melt down. I think I can handle a lot of things, but something with its teeth in my baby is not one of them. I called our friend Emily who is wonderful and came to my house. I called Chris at his meeting and said he had to come home. (He is amazing because he did). Then I called the pediatrician. Now, we are in process of changing peds because we have not been happy. I wasn't sure which office to call because we had records sent to the new one, but they haven't seen either kid yet. I ended up calling both. Here are my conversations...which peds office would you choose for your baby?

I called the old peds office first. The nurse calls me back.
I explain that Natalie has a tick in the middle of her head. This nurse says, "hmmm, well, I forgot my cheat sheet so I'm not sure what to tell you."
Okay...
"Is it big?"
"Yes, it is."
"OK, well that means it's sucking the blood."
"Ahhh"
"No, it okay, this isn't a big deal."
"What do I do?"
"I'm not sure, do you have google?"
(insert here I'm now cussing in my head thinking of course I have google, but I want to know what a doctor says you crazy fool).
"Yes,"
"Well, I think you are supposed to grab the tick with tweezers and turn it clockwise to pull it out, but I'm not sure, so you could google it."
"Isn't there a danger of the head being stuck?"
"yes, but we can get it out tomorrow in the office, or you could leave the tick there and we could take it out tomorrow."
"No, I'm not leaving this blood sucking thing in my child's head all night. Will someone think I'm crazy if I take her to the ER"
"oh, I wouldn't spend the copay on that."
(Insert, I would pay a million dollars to not have this in her head right now)
"Just google it, I'll be curious what they tell you."
"Well, I'm reading it and it says to pull it straight out."
"Do that then."

So I get off the phone with her now even more dazed. I call for medical advice and I'm told to google it. How does she know I wasn't looking at idiots.com?

So by this point, Emily is with me and we decide to call the new office. The nurse, Betty calls me back. This is how that conversation went.

"My daughter has a tick in her head."
"Okay, this is not a big deal, I know it looks bad, but it's okay...do you have tweezers?"
Yes."
"do you have alcohol?"
"yes."
"Okay, get the tweezers as close to her head as possible and pull very slowly and easily straight back. It's very important not to twist it or pull it fast. If you pull slowly it should all come out in one piece. You have to know it's okay if the head does break off, we have special equipment in our office to remove it tomorrow. But you need to try and get it out tonight. The sooner the better to not risk infection."
"okay, my husband is now home so we can do that."
"then put some alcohol on it, the neosporin. Your going to look for infection. If it gets a red bulls eye around it, then you need to bring her straight in. If she has a fever or rash bring her in too, but most likely, she'll be just fine."

Yeah, which office would you choose?

Buckle up

I know it's been a while. For my own emotional sanity, I need to just write about the last sixty or so hours.

My float nurse tells me I need to get to her house. I go and the family tells me she's unresponsive. I'm sad, she's one of my favorites. I go in her room and crawl on the bed next to her. She opens her eyes and giggles. Then she asks to sit up. Her daughter was shocked, but we sat her up.

"Am I peculiar?" she says.

"What on earth do you mean?" I said.

"With this dying, the way I'm doing it, at home, with my family, in my bed. Is that peculiar?"

"Well, yes, your peculiar, but not for this." I get a smile. "Everyone writes their story, this is yours..." I tell her.

She asks to lay back down.


Then I sat at his house discussing the emotional turmoil his daughter is going through. "She has experienced so much death lately..." he says. I listen, validate his concerns, review his own prognosis and offer some support. After listening to her for a long while, I catch the conversation my nurse is having. I hear her mention my name. (Never a good sign). I try to wrap up with these people and move on...

"I hope you can get yourself out of wherever you're supposed to be next" says my wonderful, fabulous, RN.

"Why?" says me. :-)

"Because so and so says our patient can't live there anymore and we need to get over there and do something with her."

I tell her I'll meet her there.

I could tell this family this is our patients disease progression until I'm blue in the face. It does no good. They want her out, TODAY.

My nurse and I make that happen. Then we sit on the arms of the chair on either side of her. I look at her cute, tiny, little frame bundled under all those clothes. It amazes me that such a tiny woman can create so much chaos. Her sad eyes barely visible under her pink hat.

"You" she says. "You my angel with the blue eyes. You always come to help me."

Then she sobs.

I move my arm and allow her to curl her body up against mine. She mostly fits there tucked underneath me. I sit and rub her back and pat her. I tell her it's okay and pray that it will be. She finally falls asleep, exhausted resting against me. Then we get her out of there.

Another patient later, six phone calls, I'm madly talking with Chris before he rushes out the door to a board meeting.

A few legos here, some books there, snacks, pajamas, more bedtime stories, prayers with Natalie, bottle for Micah, stories with him, prayer, lay him down, another good night to Natalie, a little Wii fit and I collapse into bed after hearing about a board meeting.

Yesterday starts with our annual meeting, my "peculiar" patient dying, supervisor visiting people with me, and I end my day with a very sad, young patient. Way too much to type.

I just got home when I got a call from so dear friends whose babies just aren't growing like they should. We pack our little family, grab another wonderful friend and head their way. Lots of tears and more prayers. We get back home, do bedtime, and collapse into the chair, not haven eaten but a tiny lunch and no supper at ten.

This morning, I scheduled a less "emotional" day. I had a ton of paperwork to catch up on this week. I was going to see a couple of people who are coping well and then type, type, type.

It's the 5200 number showing on my phone. I'm in the middle of a visit. It can wait.

It's the 5200 number again. Man.

"Hello, can you wait a minute?"

I leave, it's my nurse supervisor. Patients are dying all over the place. Now, I know, when you work for hospice, this is to be expected. But not this many, this suddenly. I need to go help out my co worker who is at another visit, but had a patient die, family's not doing so good.

When I arrive I meet a dear sweet Alzheimer's patient who just lost their spouse. The family attempted to explain, with no luck. We suggest we sit with her and let her tell him goodbye. It was humbling to be present in that room. She got minutes of clarity as she realized he had died. She told him goodbye, she kissed him, she told him memory after memory, as if he'd been the forgetful one for so many years. Not a dry eye in the place. Then she sobbed, with her little body curled against mine too.

More patients, more paperwork, supper on the run, church, and bedtime again. I look around my house and see clean clothes piled in laundry baskets. Dishes in the sink. Dogs who need some love. A house that could use some serious organization. It really doesn't matter. For today, I'm done.

For today, I can honestly say, I've done what I could, I've shown love.

For forever, I think that's all that matters.

Mark 14:8