36 years

Tomorrow is my 36th birthday.

It may sound cliche, but I truly do not feel 36. I don't know what age I do feel exactly, but in my mind it's a lot younger than what I am. Most of the time I forget how old I am until one of my kids ask me, or if I'm at the doctor's office and someone asks me.

This birthday I'm feeling a bit melancholy and it's not because I'm getting older. I'm dreading this next year, but it isn't because it brings me one year closer to turning 40. I'm just afraid that this next year will take people away from me that I love--specifically my grandpa and my best friend, Julie.

As I write this, my grandpa is in the hospital with a heart condition that so far hasn't been brought consistently under control. He is 83 and I know that is a very long time to live, but it isn't enough for me. My grandpa has always been there first for my mom, then for me, and now for my kids. I want to hold on to him and I want him to live forever. When I think of the future, I don't picture him not there for my kids' graduations, their years of college and their weddings. In reality, I know that the odds of him being here for all of that are slim, but it hurts my heart to think of a big family event happening without him. I am praying hard that God will just give us few more years with him.

My friend, Julie, is fighting cancer right now with every inch of her being. Today we celebrated her daughter's birthday and while I was enjoying the day, the shadow of cancer was ever-present in my mind. Will she be here next year to celebrate another birthday? Will her husband and daughter be forced to go on without her? How will I go on if she isn't here? I feel like cancer is slowly taking her away from us. It consumes her thoughts, it consumes her emotions, and it has very unfairly decided to consume her body. Every minute with her is precious. I've gone through this cancer journey with her for the past 2 years and until today, I have never thought about how I will react to her not being here. She can't leave. I feel like shaking my fist at God and screaming, "IT'S NOT FAIR!"

But, life isn't fair. Nobody gives us any guarantees. I'm so blessed with my family and with health, but I know now more than ever what I've been given is fragile. I know I don't appreciate it enough and I know I can never fully express to God my thankfulness for it all.

My prayer is that my 36th year is filled with good things. I want to bask in the joy of my life more. I want to stop and look with wonder at my children and how they're growing into wonderful people. Most of all, I want to keep everyone that I love in my life circle. If one of them were to be gone, it would leave a giant hole that I could never fill.

When I took a CPR class, I really never expected to use it. It's kind of like an insurance policy that you have just in case, but hope to never actually need it.

Today was a hectic day. Landon and Olivia don't go to Kindergarten until noon and today we'd had a very unstructured morning. These are great in some ways, but in others they can be bad. I end up puttering around the house like a turtle and don't realize that I need to get my rear in gear.

At 11:25, I was rushing the kids to finish their lunches, brush teeth and get dressed for school. I wasn't really paying attention when Olivia asked if she could have a "peppermint". I thought she was talking about the Hershey kisses we still have from Christmas time that have little bits of peppermint in them. What she was really talking about was a hard, round, peppermint.

I called her into the bathroom to do her hair and heard something rattling around in her mouth. I asked her what she was sucking on and she opened her mouth to reveal the slobbery white disc. Maybe I'm paranoid, but I don't let my kids have hard candy. Seriously, Jonah will be 12 in 10 days and I just started letting him have hard candy about 2 years ago. It scares me.

I almost made her spit it out, but figured she was being careful. She was standing in front of the mirror explaining to me how she'd like her hair today when suddenly, her mouth opened wide and she looked like she was trying to scream, only nothing was coming out. Then she pointed down her throat. I realized she was choking on the candy.

My brain when all fuzzy and crazy and I did the first thing I remembered from CPR which was smacking someone on the back. Later, I realized this is what I learned for INFANTS who are choking and not 6 year old children, but it didn't matter. I whacked her on the back so hard I'm surprised I didn't leave a bruise and the candy went flying out of her mouth, hit the bathroom mirror, and fell into the sink.

Her eyes were watering, she started to cry and I couldn't stop asking her if she was o.k. I was a mess, but she assured me she was fine and then said, "Please stop talking about it. I don't want to think about it anymore. I'm done with hard candy."

AMEN!

You gotta have goals in life

The other day as we were sitting in the parking lot at Jonah's school, Kate began counting school buses. She counted them about 5 times in a row and then declared, "When I grow up, I want to be a beautiful princess and a bus driver. I will drive a bus and wear huge panties."

I guess all that constant sitting on the bus causes your butt to get large!

Just a week

It's unsettling how fast things can change in just a week.

Last Wednesday, I was at home trying to entertain the kids while we the first of 3 in a row snow days. Things were right in my world.

Within 24 hours, it was like someone put me in a blender and messed everything up. Thursday night I found out that on of my best friend's cancer has returned. She was diagnosed almost 2 years ago with breast cancer and with her usual determination, kicked it rather easily considering all she had to go through. And now, she's facing an even bigger challenge and is fighting for her right to watch her daughter grow up.

I've gone through all sorts of emotions and feelings and thoughts and what keeps coming back to me is, "How to I cope with losing someone who has been a constant in my life for the last 11 years?"

I hate cancer. I hate what it does to people and I hate how it hurts families. I hate it so much that the other night I was alone in my house and I screamed and cried so long that I didn't really have a voice anymore.

I've always known that life is fragile, but this has made an impression on me that will never go away.

Today, her church as declared to be a "prayer vigil" for her. Please pray for Julie. She needs a miracle.

Reality

Today it really hit me that my kids have no idea how good they have it. It's not that we have a lot of money, or that they get every single thing they could ever want because that is not the case. What they don't realize is the reality of how so many other kids in the world--kids that they go to school with, have to live.

On more than one occasion recently, I've been talking with two of my friends about how sad the conditions are for children who live literally right under our noses. All I have to do is walk into my children's school and the reality hits me like a brick.

There are kids who are dirty. These are little kids who don't know to hop in the tub or shower on their own. They're at the mercy of their parents who don't make sure their hair and bodies are clean and don't worry about washing their clothes. There are kids that are hungry whose families don't have enough money to buy food.

One friend of mine was telling me about the living conditions of a little girl she and her husband had befriended because this little girl just seemed sad all the time. Her living conditions were despicable...trash everywhere, dishes everywhere, constant lice, and only a bare mattress and pillow with a wadded up blanket to cuddle with at night.

What kind of future do kids who have to grow up like this really have? Can they possibly ever get ahead in life? It breaks my heart that at such a young age their futures are bleak.

I'm not saying that these kids aren't loved. Many times the parents just don't know any other way. It's sad that the cycle seems to continue generation after generation.

Tonight when I tucked my kids in and said prayers with them, I asked them, "Do you know how blessed you are to have a warm, clean, cozy bed?" They told me that they did, but I don't really know if they truly get it. Their innocence, in some ways, is keeping them from realizing what life for some can be like.

So, I guess in many ways, I am torn. Do I want my children to fully appreciate their lives and be thankful? Yes. However, do I want to remove the veil of innocence from their eyes so they can truly grasp what life can be like? No.

In the meantime, I guess I'll just have to keep giving them gentle reminders to be thankful and be ready for questions that I really can't answer when they wonder why someone has to live like that.

This stroller stops for noone

So, over the weekend, I decided it would be a good idea to finish wrapping gifts and going through stocking stuffers since last year, at the last minute, I realized that I was missing some stuff that I had hid somewhere in the house and then I was all grumpy and mad at myself. Upon doing this task, I realized that not only did I really not have much at all for Jonah, but I also had a total of 2 things for Jonah and Kate's stockings--that's 2 combined, not 2 each.

This was going to require more shopping.

Then yesterday my mom told me that she didn't feel like she had very much for Jonah in the way of gifts either (even though that's probably false since grandmas never think they buy enough). She asked if I wanted to go shopping with her. Usually, I love shopping, but I don't love shopping with four children in tow and I don't love shopping 3 days before Christmas with a stroller in the mall. Plus, the temperature was a balmy 18 degrees. Wahoo! Let's whip out the tank tops!

At the mere though of shopping, Jonah was repulsed as though stepping into a mall would cause his skin to peel off his body. He graciously volunteered to stay home with Landon for a couple of hours until my dad could come and pick them up. I took him up on this offer, grabbed the girls, and hit the road.

As we arrived at the mall and I unloaded the stoller, I realized that my days of stoller useage are numbered. It won't be too long before Kate is too big for it and then not only will I have whining children following me through the mall with tired legs, but I'll also not have any place to store my coat, purse and packages. Yuck.

The mall was crowded, of course, but the girls were great. They were great little shoppers and never batted an eyelash when I had to run over slow moving shoppers with the stroller. They held on tight and enjoyed the ride over the large speed bump wearing an ugly Christmas sweater.

Now, I'm DONE shopping. I'm thrilled about this and cannot wait to see everyone's faces on Christmas morning. I love this time of the year! Merry Christmas!

I can remember a time when Jonah was young having a conversation with someone I worked with about how a person "knows" she is done having kids. I, being someone who was desperately trying to have another baby, couldn't imagine ever knowing this for sure. However, after asking other women who had deemed themselves "done," I wondered if this would be true of me, too.

When I was pregnant with the twins, I was often asked (usually by complete strangers), "So, will you be done now?" My answer, "I don't know...for awhile I guess?"

I didn't have THE FEELING. And, I assumed I would never get the feeling.

A couple of years after Landon and Olivia, I got pregnant with Kate. It was a complete surprise, but still, we were happy. I was excited and kept waiting to get the THE FEELING that so many talked about. I still didn't know 100% that I was done.

The day came for her to be born and the nurse who was prepping me for my c-section asked, "Will this be your last baby?" My answer, "Um...I guess so? I have no plans for another." I couldn't say for sure.

Later that day when I was holding her and cuddling her, I kept thinking, "How could anyone say definitively that they never want to have this experience again? Either I'm a crazy person who could have 50 kids, or everyone else in the world who claims to just "know" are heartless rocks who don't really know how to enjoy the greatness of a baby."

Then, the wonderful pain and nausea set in that I get after c-sections. It hurt to walk. I was dizzy from the medication in my spinal. I was throwing up on nurses. It bothered me to look at my mom and Mike's mom talk to each other in my room because moving my head back and forth to see each of them made me feeling like I was spinning out of control. I began to think, "Maybe I'm done with this." I thought it was the pain and medication talking.

The next morning the nurse came in to help me to the shower. She remembered me from my lengthy hospital stay with Landon and Olivia. We began chatting and she asked me if we planned to have any more kids. I stopped for a moment to think and then realized that WHAM--the feeling was there.

For the first time, I was able to really think about what I was feeling in my heart and say, "I'm done."

It wasn't based on hating the pain or the nausea I was feeling. I would go through that in a heartbeat to have all my kids again. The only way I can explain it was a peace in my heart.

Over time, I have thought that this feeling would go away and that the nagging sensation of wanting another baby would come back. It hasn't. Sure I would welcome another baby into our home, but I have no desire to be pregnant again. I often tell people that if I could hatch a baby from an egg, I'd be more than happy to have another child. The pregnancy craving has left my body.

As people around me have had babies, I expected the pains of, not jealousy per say, but longing to come back. They haven't. Someone told me that once one of my best friends got pregnant again, I would want another. Well, that happened and recently I was with her to go shopping. We were talking a lot about pregnancy and babies and even went into a maternity clothes store. While she was trying on some stuff, I started looking around. Before, I would look around those stores and think about wearing the stuff. I would get a little excited at the thought of going through that again. My reaction this time? "Wow, how nice is it to never have to worry about whether or not my pants are going to fit me in a week. That shirt is really pretty ugly. Why do pregnant women have to wear polyester? I'm really over this pregnancy thing."

After years of being told I would get it, I finally can say that without a doubt, I have the DONE feeling.

Do I still get nostalgic for the times when my kids were babies? Yes. Do I wish I could go back in time and kiss their fuzzy heads? Yes. Do I miss the feeling of having a baby roll around in my belly? Yes. Do I get a little teary thinking about never nursing a baby again? Most definiately.

I also know that I have those memories forever in my mind. Nothing can take that away from me. I will always remember hearing them cry for the first time. I'll never forget what it felt like to hold them for the first time and place my cheek next to theirs.

Now, I'm the one explaining to people that I just have this feeling that our family is complete. I know that younger women probably don't understand from a feeling aspect. Most people just look at our family and think that since we have 4 kids, we NEED to be done. I think that if two people feel like their family isn't complete until they have 7 or 8 or even 12 kids, then that is what they need to do...as long as they can afford them.

But for us, we feel complete. We feel thankful and I'm so grateful to have had been blessed with four great babies.

And, I'm thankful to not feel that pregnancy nausea again.