Birds of a Feather

We have been blessed with a little family of robins who nested in one of the concrete supports under our front porch.  It's been sweet to listen to the babies, to hear their cries change as they grow each day, and to watch Momma protect our front yard all by her mighty self.  We've done our best to respect her space, dashing in and out of our front door as quickly as possible, sticking to the back yard for play time, and doing our best to not hang out near the front door to spy.  This family has brought me quite a bit of joy over the past several weeks.  Even Avery has learned the different sounds of their cries, announcing, "It must be bweakfast time!"

The other night my friend Sharon texted me this picture with, "Uhhhh....  What do we do?"  She and her boys found a baby bird at the door of their apartment, too small to be on his own, hungry, crying for his own mommy and scared out of his mind.  Momma was nowhere to be found, Sharon couldn't find the nest, and after 30 minutes of waiting, Momma never came looking for him.  Gratefully, Sharon thought of something I didn't, and put the baby in a brown paper bag to keep the sensory overload from scaring him while we put our feeble little brains together.  Wait!  I have a nest!  And a momma bird!!!  OMGosh, I know what we're gonna do!

Thrilled with our plan to transplant her baby into my nest, not having a clue how we were going to do it (Wait!  I have a husband for that kind of stuff, right??), Sharon came over with the baby.  I took one look at the poor thing with his mouth wide open waiting for me to feed him, shrieking at me about how scared he was, wanting nothing more than the comfort of his nest and momma, my heart just burst.  After a few tries, Shawn was able to get the baby nestled in the nest as Momma stood by watching and shrieking at us.  I'll be honest, I hate messing with nature.  I'm always scared that I'm dooming the poor creatures to death rather than helping.  We all stepped back into the house and quietly waited as we watched through the front door for Momma to make the next move.  And she did!  We've heard everyone in the nest, we've seen Momma coming and going, and it sounds as though everyone is getting along.  Whew.  Our work is done.

On the way to church Sunday morning, I saw a lone, lost Canadian goose and dared to look at Shawn out of the corner of my eye with a smile on my face.  Shawn didn't even have to look at me to know what I was thinking:  "No!  I am NOT TRANSPLANTING A GOOSE!  And I really think Momma would think this is starting to get a little ridiculous too!"  He knows me so scarily well.

So, four paragraphs later, you're wondering where in the world I'm going with this.  Well, I have a couple different directions.  First, this nest and this family represent so much to me in my life right now, starting with new life.  This is a gift to me, something from God for me to enjoy and smile about each day amid the swirls of chaos and everything else in my life.  I need for these birds to be okay.

Transplanting the baby has also had me thinking about who is in my nest, all the people God has transplanted over the years.  I am so blessed by so many extra people, so many extended non-blood family members.  All those times God's loving hand has scooped me up from the ground and placed me back in my own nest, or in the nest of an 'adopted' family who will love me and care for me.  Those baby birds aren't birth related (we're quite certain they aren't even the same type of bird), but they are now officially family.  God has given me robins, black birds, blue jays, cardinals, and even geese over the years.  And we all fit so well in God's nest.

A Child Shall Lead

I'm not even sure where to begin with this one.  As a mom, it's just overwhelmingly emotional.  I suppose the beginning would be a good place.  Several weeks ago, a friend of mine told me about a high school friend of hers who had just learned his third child, with whom he and his wife were still pregnant, had been diagnosed with Anencephaly. Because of their convictions, when the doctor asked the parents how they wanted to proceed, they answered their son, already named Solomon, deserved a chance.  And as his parents, they deserved a chance to hold him, to show him how much they love him and just be with him.  My friend kept me updated after Solomon's birth, and I wept with every single update.  His arms were tiny, but his reach was so wide and so amazing. Our world is so small; another friend was listening to a nurse friend of hers talk about this little baby boy and his amazing parents at the hospital where she is a peds nurse, and yes, it was Solomon.  Neither of them knew of the connection before the nurse friend started talking.  He lived for 6 days, 22 hours and 51 minutes, and every single second of it was beautiful.  Solomon and his parents have borne witness to so many people, many of us they don't even know.  They have testified to so many of us through their love for their son.  I cannot even begin to imagine where these parents are coming from.  Shawn and I hold the same convictions as Solomon's parents, but neither of us have been able to comprehend having to make such decisions about our child(ren).  It is so difficult for me to understand why, when all Solomon's mom and dad wanted to do was take their baby home, they knew from the beginning they would not, and yet there are so many babies born to parents who don't want them.  I suppose it is just not for me to understand, but only to appreciate and learn from.  Solomon's parents are most certainly mourning, even in their knowledge that their newborn son held such an amazing purpose while here on Earth.  So many of us are mourning with them, but we are grateful for this child's life, his parents, and the way they have all touched our lives.


I really feel this final update deserves to be reposted.  I've removed any identifying names and personal information from the original posting.  Solomon died almost 11 hours after his mom posted this, after leading a more awe-inspiring and illuminating life than many of us could ever hope to.


Update on Solomon. April 19, 2012, 11:34pm - Solomon turned 6 days and 12 hours old. We are still at F.O. Hospital, in the Pediatric section, where the nurses are caring for Solomon with love and compassion.

A dear friend of ours sent us a message last week after holding Solomon in her arms. She said thank you for allowing her to "hold a miracle."

When we arrived at F.O. hospital six days ago on April 13, we didn't expect but a few brief moments with our little boy. The word "miracle" was not really in our vocabulary that day. God had other plans though. In His sovereign wisdom, our Lord has been using little six pound baby Solomon to reach out and show His Light and His love to this world.

Solomon's diagnosis has not changed, he does have anencephaly. Depending on the literature you read, the rate of occurrence for anencephaly is between 1 in 8,000 and 1 in 10,000 here in the United States. Because of the anencephaly, the large majority of Solomon's brain and skull are not developed. The brain stem that is present controls basic life functions such as breathing and heartbeat.

Solomon's prognosis has not changed. Anencephaly is always fatal, with most children passing away in the first 24 hours. Only 5% of anencephalic babies live 6 days or longer.

Despite the odds, here's what our little Solomon can do:
- He can swallow on his own, and he sure does love mommy's milk!
- He can burp, just like his daddy!
- He can cry when he is uncomfortable, so we know when to help him.
- He can smile, especially when you rub your hands on his cheek.
- He can make cooing sounds, like when you hold him close to you and squeeze.
- He can giggle, especially when you tickle under his chin!

Now for the really amazing part. God has used Solomon...
- To bring people closer to a relationship with Jesus Christ.
- To convince one father that he needed to hug his own sons a little tighter at night.
- To help one mother want to become an even better mother to her kids.
- To reconcile a marriage between one husband and wife.
- To help one husband and wife come to closure over the loss of their own child.
- To lay on the heart of a nurse to pursue becoming a doctor.
- To show a young lady that she is truly loved despite her life choices.
- To bring nurses, doctors, staff members and friends into an impromptu praise and worship service in our hospital room.

These are only the stories that we have personally heard or seen. God's scope goes so much farther than we will ever know, and we are so very humbled to have been just a small part of His vast plan.

We believe that it is a "miracle" from the Lord that Solomon's life has been longer than expected.
We are enjoying this beautiful gift of time that we've been given, but we know there is a greater purpose behind the miracle. This has been an opportunity for God to make Himself known in a real and meaningful way to so many people.

The time will come that the Lord will welcome Solomon into His waiting arms, after he has accomplished everything he was intended for here on earth. We know this will hurt unlike anything we've ever had to go through. But, we've been praying for peace. And we feel peace. When we look at everything that God has accomplished along this journey, we can only give Him thanks and praise.

"Now may the Lord of peace himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you." 2 Thessalonians 3:16

With Love,
Solomon's Parents

Love

As moms, when our children hurl the "worst mom in the world" or "meanest mom in the world" insult at us, we kind of do a celebratory dance.  It means we're doing our jobs right.  Most likely, we've said no to something that is dangerous or just plain not good for our children, or we've forced them into some sort of child labor camp that will grow hair on their chests.  Being the worst mom in the world means we love our children enough to be 'mean.'  Is it ever fun having to be the bad guy?  Do we always feel good afterward?  Nope.  But it means we love 'em.

If being the worst mom in the world means we've done something right in the world of parenting, what does that say about being the worst friend in the world?

Sometimes being an adult just really--well, it just really sucks.  I had to put on my big girl panties this week and be the World's Meanest Best Friend.  It was not a decision that came easily, or without a lot of prayer.  I love my friend dearly.  She and her family are so precious to me.  Because of that, I could no longer just sit back and watch what is being allowed to happen.  It is not a matter of me disapproving of lifestyle choices or passing judgement on my friend, it's knowing the difference between right and wrong, knowing when a family is too close to the edge, it's knowing when to say enough is enough, this is wrong and it needs to stop before someone else gets hurt.  This is a matter of me loving my friend and her family, a matter of it just being too painful to not actively do something.  I love my friend and her family, and it is killing me to watch her do this to herself.  God tells us to love one another as He first loved us; my dear friend is the one who reminded me of this so many years ago. She is the one who led me back down the path I belonged on, loved me through it and held my hand.  To see her stray from this path we joined each other on just hurts.

This family has been hit by tragedy that no family should ever have to face.  From there, they took a cannonball off a cliff.  I cannot tell my friend how to grieve, I cannot tell her how to raise her children, but I most certainly can tell her when she has her head jammed in an anatomically impossible part of her body.  Because she has refused to listen to reason, because she has continued to go down the wrong path, because of what I know and what I've seen, and because I love her as much as I do, I had to make a very difficult phone call.  I had to report my friend.  It broke my heart and I cried the entire time I spoke with the caseworker (who, God bless him, was a very compassionate, patient and understanding gentleman), but I know it was time.  I think I've known it for a few weeks.

I've convinced myself she will figure out it was me and that she will hate me.  I feel as though as I've betrayed her and her trust.  I would hate myself too, but I know that I would hate myself even more if something else happens.  I can't help but wonder if one of us had stepped in sooner, would things be different for her other children?  We all claimed to love the family and want what was best, but instead of telling them where they had their heads jammed, we whispered, we shook our heads in disbelief, we blocked Facebook pages, we ignored texts and phone calls.  What if???  None of us can change what has already happened.  Sadly, we can't go back.  And oh, how I do wish we could.  We can move forward though.  And what I've found is a huge sigh of relief; many people knew the call needed to be made, but no one wanted to be the one to do it.  Now the first step has been taken.

So, I am the meanest friend in the world.  Because I love my friend too much not to be.

*Please note that I do not mean this as gossip or anything else other than a need to get it out of my head.  And maybe there's someone else out there who had to do a horrible, awful thing and needs reassurance that it was the right thing?

Alrighty, I'm Gonna Wade in and Weigh in on this Mess

I can't stand politics, and I don't normally weigh in on these matters publicly, but you know me, I've got to put my two cents in when something frosts my cupcakes.

Y'all have been reading long enough to know that I'm a stay at home mom.  Y'all also know there are days I'd rather be tracking lions in the Serengeti than here being driven mad by my children.

There, I said it.  Now just hang on, let me  finish that thought!!

I will be honest that when Hillary Rosen first went after Ann Romney, I hardly blinked.  I'm so tired of the so-called Mommy Wars, so tired of society telling us we should be home with our children--oh wait, no, we should be working full time careers AND raising our children, wait, scratch that, we should barefoot, pregnant and never leave the kitchen....  You get the idea.

Shawn and I made the choice years ago--and yes, I say we made the decision together, because really, even when Mom is a SAHM, she still needs Dad to provide the other 110% of the parenting, so no matter what Mom chooses to do, it needs to be a joint decision--anyway, I'm digressing.  We made the decision together when Noah was born that I would stay home and raise the kids.  I started to go a little crazy when he hit the toddler years, so I went back to teaching for two years.  Having two children is more hands-on than having one (and that seems to be especially my two children), so for that reason and others, I'm needed here.  Again, it's my choice to be at home. I may not always be thrilled with my choice, but I'm content.  I'm smart enough to know that Shawn and I are blessed by his income so I have this choice.  For the moms who don't have that choice and would rather be home, my heart aches.  They know what they're missing out on.  Shawn and I also make a lot of sacrifices to make my choice work for our family.  My heart aches for the parents like Hillary Rosen who aren't willing to make those sacrifices so their children know they are more important than Mom and Dad's career.  They don't know what they're missing out on (or maybe they do and don't care?).

As I said earlier, I hardly blinked when Hillary Rosen commented on Ann Romney's lack of work record.  I did slightly arch my right eyebrow as I was mopping the kitchen floor and telling Avery to get down from the yoga ball he had stacked on the couch, but then, unlike most things, it just didn't bother me.  Shawn, on the other hand, had steam coming out of his ears.  I actually had to stop the man from calling in to the conservative radio station he listens to so he could join the fray in defending SAHMs.  "You work harder than any other woman I know!  How dare she say such a thing!"  Then a man from the other side of things called in and declared SAHMs "Stay at home, do-nothing wives."  Just be glad you weren't nearby when the mushroom cloud went up.  My husband has admitted to being jealous of my current career choice.  He says that when he gets to work and hears his co-workers' complaints, he starts to wonder just how important his job is in the grand scheme of things when I'm at home swamped with an asthmatic toddler struggling for air and an Aspergian child struggling to learn self control.  He tells me that we SAHMs are the ones who will make the difference.  We're the ones who are shaping the future.  And some days, I can almost just believe that.

The point is, don't let society pressure you into how you feel about your parenting choices.  As moms, we all work hard, whether we're home all day with our children or getting a break at a job.  I personally don't think it's anyone's business.  If you need, or choose, to work, that doesn't make you any less, or more, of a mom.  Neither does being home all day with your children make you any less of a woman.

I know this time with my children is only temporary, even on the days when one hour feels like an eternity.  I love my children and I value this time with them.  I'm able to make memories and I'm able to be here for my children.  At the end of the day, as many times as one or both of them have made me want to cry (or actually do it) throughout the day, they've given me just as many reasons to smile.  And that's what keeps me at home with them, banging my head against a concrete wall.

Kierstyn Ann

I'd like to introduce you to a special little someone....  Her name is Kirsten Ann.

Now, before you go dancing around your room and high-fiving yourself, you should know--She's not our baby.

Kirsten is my niece's daughter, who will be making her debut appearance around mid-August.  Yes, at the tender age of 35, I'm going to be Great Mamie (to which my mother has been replying, "Would you stop saying that?!  This makes me a great-grandmother at the tender age of 62!"  Kirsten is also bumping my grandmother up to a great-great-grandmother!).

While I'm not sure how I feel about the "great" part added to the name my sister's children gave me so long ago (has it really been 23 years?), I do know that I'm in love.  I think Kirsten is the most beautiful little girl I've ever seen.  Well, next to her mom and aunt--my two nieces--that is!

When Katie visited with us the other day, she gave me the wonderful gift of laying my cheek on her bump so I could tell Kirsten how much I love her.  Much to my delight, I received a few flips in response!

My prayer for my great niece is that she will grow up knowing nothing but love, grace and acceptance.  That she will grow up knowing God's love, and knowing Him through a relationship.  My prayer is that she will be happy and healthy, and that she will learn to dance to in the rain.

I love you sweet Kirsten Ann, and I can't wait to meet you.

General Update

Howdy!  It's been a while, I know.  Just popping in to let you know we're above water and alive!  I've had so many ideas running through my head for posts (granted, most of them are soapbox-type posts, so when I have the energy to climb on up there, you'll know!), but just haven't had the energy.  We've been dealing with new issues with Noah, and Avery has been sick for the past several weeks.  Pretty much, when the kids have passed out, so have I!

Spring is full *achoo* bloom here in Virginia.  Everything looks so pretty, but it's bringing such misery to my youngest.  We have a little family of robins living in our porch and it's been kind of sweet to listen to the babies.  Mama works hard to protect our yard and porch from any threats (that would be us)!  It's been kind of funny to hear her yelling at Shawn from her perch in our front tree as he tries to mow quickly and disturb her as little as possible!  We are doing our best to respect her and her family's living space, but I think we've all finally reached an understanding now that she realizes we don't mean any harm to her babies.  I tried to have a heart to heart with her, as moms, because I do crazy things like that, and I think we reached an unspoken agreement.  I guess that means we can finally use our front door again!  With the nicer weather, and enticing sounds of the baby robins, Jethro has begun trying to escape again.  I put his harness and name tag back on him, should he escape and become lost. Avery, of course, is thrilled with the kitty's new carry handle. Jethro, not so much! Shawn and I have settled back into our routines, and I'm realizing just how good my week away from them was for all of us.  Coming home and finding me clinging to the end of my rope was one thing, but living at the end of my rope was an entirely other thing for him.  Over Noah's Spring Break, it was Shawn's realization that I would need a break from the boys, so he suggested he work from home twice during that week so I could "work" at the center.  It was wonderful to have some time away, and it's been wonderful for me to have Shawn fully understand what goes on in our home (not that he's an oblivious or absent parent, but until you are the one taking care of things full time and on your own, you can't really appreciate it).  We had a nice, quiet Easter and Noah just got back from a Scout Camporee this weekend.  Oh, and Wilbur had a great time helping the Easter Bunny fill the eggs for the kids to find.

Noah seems to be doing well on the Zoloft/Focalin combo.  Last Sunday was Family Sunday at church, and we noticed a 180-degree change in him from past Family Sundays.  Noah was quiet, still, semi-focused and completely in control of himself.  We beamed with pride over his behavior change and made sure to complement him plenty.  Our Children's Ministry leader always comes up with some sort of "keep busy baggie" to hand to each child on Family Sundays; her hard work and dedication to our children never cease to amaze me.  This past Sunday's project was a BINGO game; the children were to listen to Pastor Nick's message for the words on their BINGO sheet, but were not to call out BINGO during the message.  I had to suppress laughter when she made sure she had Noah's attention while giving the instructions, then asked him to repeat them back to her.  She knows my child so well!  We're having some issues at home with attitude, lying, nocturnal wandering, theft of sorts and other less specific topics.  I knew there would be sibling issues when we had Avery, but there are times I just don't understand how they get to the lengths they do (the other morning Noah was kicking Avery in the face because he thought it was funny.  I had to get out of the shower to put a stop to it when I heard Avery screaming.  Things like this happen rather frequently).  I don't want them to have the type (lack) of relationship that I have with my sister or Shawn has with his brothers.  I want better for my children, but I don't know how to foster that in them.  Noah was doing well at school, or so I thought, until I got an email from his teacher this week.  I mentioned to Noah Wednesday night that I hadn't signed his agenda so far that week, and Thursday morning I learned why:  Several notes were in there from his teacher about his behavior.  He'd hidden the agenda under his bed, telling me that he'd forgotten it at school, telling his teacher he'd forgotten it at home.  The lying is getting out of hand and I'm just so discouraged.  I don't know how to reach him about this.  It is heartbreaking to not be able to believe a single thing that comes out of my child's mouth.  He admits that when he tells his classmates and fellow Scouts these lies (isn't a Scout supposed to be trustworthy?) that they ignore him now.  So what's the draw?  I just don't know what else to do anymore. Noah has yet to really grasp any sense of responsibility for himself or his actions, and that in itself is a major hurdle in being able to teach him anything, I think.  Until he wants to learn these things, it's just not going to stick.  And right now, he seems to think he not only knows better than us, but he knows everything.  He's made a good friend in our neighborhood, on the next street over, which has been both a blessing and a little bit of a not so good thing!  His new friend is a good kid, and they do have quite a bit in common.  They seem like two peas in a pod and make quite a pair!  Noah will not only be starting middle school in the fall, but the youth group at church as well.  Shawn and I had some concerns about Noah starting with the youth group, as he is just not mature enough for some of these things.  I have to say, God has taken care of our concerns in the form of new leadership and some other changes.  It's always such a lesson to me to let go and let God when He takes care of things like that!


Avery has really been struggling with his asthma and allergies, so we took him to a specialist last week.  We were really pleased with the doctor, her course of action and the office in general.  She ran 25 scratch tests on Avery, and he reacted to everything but milk, wheat, guinea pigs and dust (does that mean me and my housekeeping, um, skills are doing a good job of raising his immunity?!).  Unfortunately, one of his highest reactions was to dog hair.  For now, we're hanging on to our dog, but we'll have to see what else happens, especially if Avery doesn't get better even with the new medications.  The doctor also ordered x-rays of his sinuses and adenoids/tonsils, out of concern for the number of sinus infections he's had.  Fortunately, those came back clear, so we're wondering if maybe he just wasn't on the right medicines and things will begin to clear up now that he is?  She increased the dosages of a few of his meds, changed one and added another.  We go back in a month for more scratch tests and to see how he's doing on the new medicines.  As Avery's mom, it's been horrible to have to watch him go through this.  The look of "Mom!  What are you letting them do to me?" as I had to help hold him still for the scratch tests nearly killed me.  Even though I know we have to go through this for the answers and solutions we need for his health, I don't ever want my children to look at me like that again.  Having to listen to him cry and not be able to comfort him was awful.  I couldn't even scoop him up to comfort him when they were were finished because it could've smeared the antigens and given skewed results.  Knowing that we'll have to go through again in 3 weeks just isn't good!  Once he had a juice box, bunny snacks and Daddy's "piepad," he was doing better and most was forgiven, but I was still seeing that look in my mind.

Other than that, Avery is doing well.  I find myself saying the strangest things to him ("Avery Owen!  Your penis is not a gun!" tops the list, I think) as he grows more capable of forming sentences and thoughts.  I'm still having trouble with the fact that he'll begin preschool in just a few short months.  He can pedal his tricycle and refuses help now, lives to hassle the kitties and is adjusting well to his medication schedule.  In all, he's a perfectly normal almost 3 year old (ugh, really??  Almost 3???)!

Not much else going on here.  I've been able to take on a few more responsibilities at the center, and as always, I'm really loving my time there.  I know I will always receive more than I could ever give there. I'm going to brag for a minute here, so just bear with me--after 35 years of having straight-as-stick hair, perming it in the hopes of having something close to pretty, and just plain arguing with my hair, I finally have natural curl!  My aunt gifted me with a much needed haircut, so now I have a head full of healthy, curly hair.  No clue where it came from, but the speculation is either hormone changes and/or a "gift" from chemo.  Another "anniversary" of sorts is coming up, so I'm not doing too well with that.  It's so hard to believe it's been a year already.  I cry at the drop of a hat, panic when I hear sirens.  What makes it more difficult for me is watching what has happened to my good friend's family after this tragic accident.  I can only love her and pray, I can't make it stop or make her wake up to what's going on.  I've learned so much in the past year, and even just in the past few months.  A lot of it would sound morbid to any "normal" person, but to me, it's stuff we've all had to learn to consider.  I am grateful for the grace and mercy I am granted anew each day, the same grace and mercy our Savior grants my good friend, for which I am also grateful.  I know He won't let her go.

Anyway, I suppose that's all for now, here in left field....