So I got JD out of bed on Friday morning at 4:30am in hot pursuit of WalMart. I should be fair and say that he was NOT excited, to say the least but he was fine being the guy who stood in line the whole time. Sweet. He hunts animals. I hunt deals. On the list?
1. 500 G external hard drive (69; regularly 150)
2. 4 G memory card (10 ea; last year I paid $40 for a 2G- sigh)
3. 1000 piece dragon Lego set (50; regularly 100)
4. Easy bake oven (20; regularly 39.99)
"The doors open at 5am, so let's get there at 10 til". Shower. Hair. Make up. I mean, what's the rush, right? Ugh. We pull into the parking lot of WalMart and the WHOLE thing is filled up. I just looked at JD and said "We're late!" Evidently, they were open all night. Did I not get that memo?
JD dropped me off at the door and I headed for the toy aisle. Now, maybe you're well versed in these black Fridays but I tell you, I am not. I had no idea that, for example, the Legos? They are NOT in the toy aisle. They are in a random 'action alley' that is anywhere between the baby food section and the garden section. And good luck getting to anything that has anything to do with electronics because it's a shoulder to shoulder grid lock. I'm just glad I didn't have a cart.
JD called me on my cell phone and uttered these words, "Hey...you better hurry up because I'm almost to the head of the line."
"J...I need your help. I can't find anything." When we finally connected, he pretty much had to knock the sense back into me- you know? Like they do to boxers who are in a sort of daze. I guess I was in a state of shock. Confusion, maybe? All I know is that I did NOT get an external hard drive or Lego set from WalMart and just so you know, in really really really fine print, the add says "only available in some stores" and it was not available in the WalMart store that I was in at 5am.
So what's the secret? How do people score these amazing deals???
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
The future looks BRIGHT
Today, things are looking UP.
We've been having fun building our solar collectors and testing their capabilities:
And learning how to use the sun's energy to generate electricity via photovoltaics:
Things are definitely looking UP.
We've been having fun building our solar collectors and testing their capabilities:
And learning how to use the sun's energy to generate electricity via photovoltaics:
Things are definitely looking UP. Olivia's Birthday
Thank you God, for asking the sun to shine on Olivia's birthday.
Please give her a big kiss and tell her "Happy Birthday" for us.
Olivia's birthday was tough this year; I think because it's a milestone birthday (6- school starting) combined with the fact that last year Ryan was in the hospital at this time and our focus was on him. Whatever the reason may be, it was sure thick and full of loss. To tell the truth, I'm relieved that it's over. A big weight has been lifted and I'm beginning to find comfort in His love and His promise again. :)
Please give her a big kiss and tell her "Happy Birthday" for us.
Olivia's birthday was tough this year; I think because it's a milestone birthday (6- school starting) combined with the fact that last year Ryan was in the hospital at this time and our focus was on him. Whatever the reason may be, it was sure thick and full of loss. To tell the truth, I'm relieved that it's over. A big weight has been lifted and I'm beginning to find comfort in His love and His promise again. :)
Friday, November 21, 2008
On Grief
Grief is tricky. Sometimes I'll be walking along, fine and dandy, when all of the sudden something washes over me- a smell; a figure of speech; a gesture. That's when grief feels like this:
And there are other times when it feels like life can go on; like I can get back on the horse, so to speak, and at least function. Those days can be short-lived, however and that's when grief feels a little more like this:
And then there are days like November 19th, when grief feels a whole lot like this:
So today, on the eve of Olivia's birthday I'm thinking about a goal of mine that was set earlier this fall: know what you need and share what you know.
Here's what I need-
I need to freely love my daughter and treat her memory as a live part of my family. I need to hear your kind words and memories. Thank you soooo, soooo much for taking the time to share with me.
Here's what I know-
I know that the painful part of my previous Nov 19th post included a lot of "I's", which seems very selfish. And when I think about it, grief is pretty selfish. I guess maybe that's why "I" is right in the middle of it.
I know that God prepared us for the day Olivia died. He placed specific people in the path of our life and held our hands down a road he knew we would travel.
I know that when we had lost our child, God was there. And I know that He was there even when I told Him I hated Him.
I know that God's grace still amazes me and that He cries with me as I grieve a gift that wasn't really 'mine' to begin with.
I know that I'm not very good at being a Christian but I can bet with everything I have ever loved, God will be there to rock you in your pain. He will love you when you don't deserve it, can't earn it, and even refuse to accept it.
Listen. I'm not good at the outreach stuff. Heck, it's a daily struggle to live as Christ, to ask His help, and find His purpose. But I can say that I've never been more certain of anything in all my life. He will be here. He will be true to the promise He has made because His love endures forever.
And there are other times when it feels like life can go on; like I can get back on the horse, so to speak, and at least function. Those days can be short-lived, however and that's when grief feels a little more like this:
And then there are days like November 19th, when grief feels a whole lot like this:So today, on the eve of Olivia's birthday I'm thinking about a goal of mine that was set earlier this fall: know what you need and share what you know.Here's what I need-
I need to freely love my daughter and treat her memory as a live part of my family. I need to hear your kind words and memories. Thank you soooo, soooo much for taking the time to share with me.
Here's what I know-
I know that the painful part of my previous Nov 19th post included a lot of "I's", which seems very selfish. And when I think about it, grief is pretty selfish. I guess maybe that's why "I" is right in the middle of it.
I know that God prepared us for the day Olivia died. He placed specific people in the path of our life and held our hands down a road he knew we would travel.
I know that when we had lost our child, God was there. And I know that He was there even when I told Him I hated Him.
I know that God's grace still amazes me and that He cries with me as I grieve a gift that wasn't really 'mine' to begin with.
I know that I'm not very good at being a Christian but I can bet with everything I have ever loved, God will be there to rock you in your pain. He will love you when you don't deserve it, can't earn it, and even refuse to accept it.
Listen. I'm not good at the outreach stuff. Heck, it's a daily struggle to live as Christ, to ask His help, and find His purpose. But I can say that I've never been more certain of anything in all my life. He will be here. He will be true to the promise He has made because His love endures forever.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
November 19th
I hate November 19th.
Every year when I think back to this day and the events that transpired, I get physically sick. My palms sweat. A gigantic lump resides in my throat- you know, the kind that makes it difficult to swallow. Sometimes I do get sick and sometimes I just feel like I got hit by a truck. Truth be told, looking back, I would have welcomed a Mack truck.
The scene: Halloween 2002- JD was passing out candy and I was big as a house, lounging in the tub. My belly would literally flop from one side to another. I was eight months pregnant with our first baby- a girl. We were nervous as all get out but couldn't have been more excited, really.
In late November, we went to a craft show in the TriCities in an attempt to induce labor with all the walking around we did. That night, JD had to work. I remember waving to him and settling in to watch a movie. With my pregnancy food (a Totino’s Pizza) at hand, I was gearing up for a carb-induced coma of sorts.
The next day, NOVEMBER 19th, I could hardly contain myself at work. At 3:00 pm we were going to find out just how close to delivering this baby we were. But something wasn’t right.
I called the doctor to explain that I wasn’t feeling Olivia moving as much. She told me that babies tend to slow down just before delivery…and surely, everything was fine. After all, I had an appt that day. The doctor would check up on me at the appt. My worries were reassured with "babies tend to slow down near delivery...consider this the calm before the storm". After all, I was 39 weeks 5 days pregnant- we were nearing the storm. Whoo-hoo!
JD picked me up right outside the school at 2:45 sharp. I can remember skipping down the stairs with excitement but also worry. I explained my fear to him and he looked at me with worry. He knelt down and talked to my belly, “Olivia…girly girl…baby girl...”
No answer.
Olivia loved her daddy’s voice. JD read to her nearly every night and she literally danced at the sound of his voice. Panic started to settle in but I tried to hide my fear from JD. “She’s fine” I finally mustered. “Let’s go”.
I remember our doctor getting very angry that the new Doppler machine she got was junk since it couldn’t pick up the heart rate of a 39 week old fetus (fetus is her word, not mine).
The next day, NOVEMBER 19th, I could hardly contain myself at work. At 3:00 pm we were going to find out just how close to delivering this baby we were. But something wasn’t right.
I called the doctor to explain that I wasn’t feeling Olivia moving as much. She told me that babies tend to slow down just before delivery…and surely, everything was fine. After all, I had an appt that day. The doctor would check up on me at the appt. My worries were reassured with "babies tend to slow down near delivery...consider this the calm before the storm". After all, I was 39 weeks 5 days pregnant- we were nearing the storm. Whoo-hoo!
JD picked me up right outside the school at 2:45 sharp. I can remember skipping down the stairs with excitement but also worry. I explained my fear to him and he looked at me with worry. He knelt down and talked to my belly, “Olivia…girly girl…baby girl...”
No answer.
Olivia loved her daddy’s voice. JD read to her nearly every night and she literally danced at the sound of his voice. Panic started to settle in but I tried to hide my fear from JD. “She’s fine” I finally mustered. “Let’s go”.
I remember our doctor getting very angry that the new Doppler machine she got was junk since it couldn’t pick up the heart rate of a 39 week old fetus (fetus is her word, not mine).
Everything is fine. Everything is fine. Everything is fine.
The rest is a bit of a blur. I remember the ultrasound machine. I remember the quiet. I remember asking the doctor if what we were looking at was Olivia’s chest and her saying “yes”. I remember asking her “Then where is her heart beating?” … and her asking another doctor to take a look….and him confirming the location of her ‘aorta’. Even I can recognize the stillness of a heart. Then the doctor looked at me and uttered these words that to this day, take my breath away…
“I’m so sorry. Your baby has passed away”.
What? What? What? Save her! Cut me open and get her out! CPR. Anything. Why aren’t you people moving???
The doctor left the room and there we were. There we were.
And then the primal part of me kicked in. I remember the doctor leaving and I completely lost it. I started screaming at the top of my lungs…from the pit of my soul. Howling, really. I was kicking everything I could reach. JD grabbed me and started rocking back and forth and we both screamed until our bodies went numb. The doctor came back in and all I could gather in the weakest of voices was … “Why?” She didn’t know but she instructed us to come back in the morning to induce labor and deposited the hope that after the delivery, we would find out the cause. She went on to talk about an induction rather than C-section but I was in no position to make a decision like that. JD agreed to whatever she suggested and that was a natural delivery.
JD drove us home. When we got home, I called my mom to tell her that Olivia had died. The connection was bad and I couldn’t bear to repeat the news another time so I threw the phone across the room. I don’t know what happened for the next few hours. I remember our pastor, Joe, and his wife coming over. I remember Nancy whispering “God had a son too”. And I remember me telling her that sometimes I get cold in the mornings when I get ready for work…and I stand in front of the sink with the blow drier blowing on me. Maybe that’s why Olivia died.
My brother, Aaron came over. He was the only family we had within 300 miles. He made all the calls. I remember walking to McNary Market and throwing my carrot juice on the road just so I could hear the glass break. I remember going for a drive and asking God to send me a sign that this was in His will. And I remember herds of rabbits running across the road.
That night I didn’t sleep. I crept downstairs and sat on the back porch for hours….just rocking back and forth. I remember it being so cold outside and not caring. It felt so unnatural to be carrying Olivia around with me…knowing and feeling that my body had killed her. It was late November and the fog had really begun to settle in. I was in such shock that the world was still spinning because it felt like it stood still to me. I was in complete disbelief that the sun raised. My parents drove all night to be with us and as I came down the stairs in the morning, all I could do was cry. We were supposed to be celebrating…
I reported to the hospital early that morning. The induction began. I was still numb. I stared into space a lot…and wondered why. The walls of the LD room were covered with cards my students had made and yet all I could do was stare out the window. It took nearly two days for labor to progress. JD stayed awake all night long pressing the morphine button- every eight minutes. He didn’t miss a single injection. The next morning, he told me that he watched roses blooming all night long.
“I’m so sorry. Your baby has passed away”.
What? What? What? Save her! Cut me open and get her out! CPR. Anything. Why aren’t you people moving???
The doctor left the room and there we were. There we were.
And then the primal part of me kicked in. I remember the doctor leaving and I completely lost it. I started screaming at the top of my lungs…from the pit of my soul. Howling, really. I was kicking everything I could reach. JD grabbed me and started rocking back and forth and we both screamed until our bodies went numb. The doctor came back in and all I could gather in the weakest of voices was … “Why?” She didn’t know but she instructed us to come back in the morning to induce labor and deposited the hope that after the delivery, we would find out the cause. She went on to talk about an induction rather than C-section but I was in no position to make a decision like that. JD agreed to whatever she suggested and that was a natural delivery.
JD drove us home. When we got home, I called my mom to tell her that Olivia had died. The connection was bad and I couldn’t bear to repeat the news another time so I threw the phone across the room. I don’t know what happened for the next few hours. I remember our pastor, Joe, and his wife coming over. I remember Nancy whispering “God had a son too”. And I remember me telling her that sometimes I get cold in the mornings when I get ready for work…and I stand in front of the sink with the blow drier blowing on me. Maybe that’s why Olivia died.
My brother, Aaron came over. He was the only family we had within 300 miles. He made all the calls. I remember walking to McNary Market and throwing my carrot juice on the road just so I could hear the glass break. I remember going for a drive and asking God to send me a sign that this was in His will. And I remember herds of rabbits running across the road.
That night I didn’t sleep. I crept downstairs and sat on the back porch for hours….just rocking back and forth. I remember it being so cold outside and not caring. It felt so unnatural to be carrying Olivia around with me…knowing and feeling that my body had killed her. It was late November and the fog had really begun to settle in. I was in such shock that the world was still spinning because it felt like it stood still to me. I was in complete disbelief that the sun raised. My parents drove all night to be with us and as I came down the stairs in the morning, all I could do was cry. We were supposed to be celebrating…
I reported to the hospital early that morning. The induction began. I was still numb. I stared into space a lot…and wondered why. The walls of the LD room were covered with cards my students had made and yet all I could do was stare out the window. It took nearly two days for labor to progress. JD stayed awake all night long pressing the morphine button- every eight minutes. He didn’t miss a single injection. The next morning, he told me that he watched roses blooming all night long.
Olivia was born on a Friday. November 22nd. Her fingers were so long. And she was so tall (22 in). She had my bottom lip and JD’s upper lip and was more perfect than I ever expected. I held her for as long as time would allow. I insisted that I rock my daughter and the nurses made every effort to ensure that I had what I needed to do that. I’m so grateful that they knew to take fingerprints and locks of her hair. I was so wrapped up in meeting and saying goodbye to our daughter, that preserving that moment was really the last thing on my mind.
Just as we expected, Olivia’s birth brought with it the answers we were hoping for. Her umbilical cord had been wrapped too tightly around her neck and her tiny little foot. When she kicked, it became too much and Olivia slipped from my arms into Jesus'.
So today I'm just hating November 19th. I know I'm supposed to celebrate the fact that Olivia is in heaven and on a normal day, I do. But today, I'm just ticked.
I'm ticked that I don't get to bake cakes with Olivia.
I'm ticked that I don't get to paint her fingernails or braid her hair.
I'm ticked that her 6th birthday is coming up in three days and I've never heard her laugh.
I'm ticked that I don't get to put Christmas presents with her name on them under our tree.
I'm ticked that every family photo I have is not a picture of our WHOLE family.
I'm ticked that I won't get to drive her to college.I'm ticked that I won't get to see her walk down the aisle or be a grandma to her children.
I'm ticked that she didn't get to live.
I'm ticked that she didn't get to live.
I'm ticked that she didn't get to live!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
He's HOME!!!!
{finally} We've missed him terribly these past SEVEN days. And we're so excited that he's now an official great white hunter. Luckily, he missed us too :)
Monday, November 10, 2008
Complete and Total Dorkdom and Randomness
This has got to be my weirdest post of all time. I mean, it's really about nothing so if you've got something to do, by all means, go do it and skip this.
These are the days of our life and I wanna record them complete with dorkiness and randomness (and glory, of course):
Life has been really good lately. It seems as though the pace has settled in a bit and we're all getting used to our new schedules. The boys are content and I have even found a few hours here and there to do things on my never-ending list. Last weekend, JD took Ryan bird hunting while Gage and I stayed inside (and out of the rain!). It's been a looooong time since a kid in our house has taken a three hour nap, so while Gage was sleeping I was able to do some deep cleaning and man, it feels good. When it was all over, I just couldn't resist taking a picture of our dust-free coffee table!
I know. I'm a dork. I mean, who takes a picture of a coffee table, right? Like I said, dork. Wanna know what's even dorkier? I collect rocks. How fifth grade is that? lol. I had to figure out a way to merge the rock-collection-little-kid part of me with the, well, you know, the grown-up-and-still-can-identify-with-peter-pan part of me. So, ehem, here it is in all it's glory.
These are the days of our life and I wanna record them complete with dorkiness and randomness (and glory, of course):
Life has been really good lately. It seems as though the pace has settled in a bit and we're all getting used to our new schedules. The boys are content and I have even found a few hours here and there to do things on my never-ending list. Last weekend, JD took Ryan bird hunting while Gage and I stayed inside (and out of the rain!). It's been a looooong time since a kid in our house has taken a three hour nap, so while Gage was sleeping I was able to do some deep cleaning and man, it feels good. When it was all over, I just couldn't resist taking a picture of our dust-free coffee table!
I know. I'm a dork. I mean, who takes a picture of a coffee table, right? Like I said, dork. Wanna know what's even dorkier? I collect rocks. How fifth grade is that? lol. I had to figure out a way to merge the rock-collection-little-kid part of me with the, well, you know, the grown-up-and-still-can-identify-with-peter-pan part of me. So, ehem, here it is in all it's glory.Girlhood rock collecting meets womanhood display de elegante:
Neat, huh? Now, the picture really doesn't do it justice. All those rocks in there are carefully polished agates that have been the center of many many many conversations. Hopefully this thingy will be full by this time next year. We're going to have to plan more rock-kicking outings.
What can I say, really? This life rocks.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Halloween 08
doesn't this picture of gage look like olivia??? esp in the lips :)
"trick or treat to the rescue" - ryanie
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