The Engagement Ring and the Necklace

When Shawn and I were first married, we barely had enough money for a pair of $40 wedding bands.  I didn't get an engagement ring because we were a little busy buying more important things.  We really didn't even have an engagement, per se.  What we had was a positive pregnancy test, then about four weeks to plan a wedding!  Having dated in high school, having known each other for as long as we had, and dating again, we knew we were eventually going to get married, but Noah's arrival kind of helped hurry things along a bit!

Fast forward a bit....  Life happened, things got in the way and the engagement ring was just never important to me.  There was always something else we needed, a bill that needed paying.  A diamond ring just wasn't practical.

A few months before our fifth anniversary, Shawn started making a very big deal out of a package that I would need to sign for.  Computer parts, he kept telling me.  The day these oh-so-computer-parts were set to arrive via Fed Ex, Shawn had to drive me to a doctor's appointment in the city.  While sitting in the exam room waiting on my doctor, Shawn received an email notification that Fed Ex had attempted to deliver the package, but couldn't because we weren't home to sign for it.  I honestly, for the life of me, could not figure out what the big deal was over these computer parts.  I was so exasperated with him!  It was a Friday, so Fed Ex would deliver them on Monday, no biggie!  I still think we used some sort of time warp machine to get back home that afternoon, where Shawn began calling the Fed Ex people to find out which warehouse his computer parts package had been returned to.  Just his luck, it was right down the road, only about a 30 minute drive away, but the warehouse was closing in 20 minutes!!!  So yes, you guessed it--off we went, with Shawn driving like a mad man.  Over these computer parts.  Unbelievable.  We got his computer parts, got home, life settled down.  Whew.  That evening, we farmed Noah out to Shawn's brother and SIL so we could go out to dinner.  On the way to the restaurant, Shawn pulled over in the downtown area of our little town and suggested we take a walk.  Then, right in front of one of the prettiest displays in a floral shop window, my husband of almost five years dropped to one knee, pulled a small box out of his pocket, and with people gathering around to watch, Shawn told me how much he loved me, and that he'd marry me all over again in a heartbeat.  Yes, the "computer part" was my engagement ring.

It never bothered me that I didn't have a diamond, but unbeknownst to me, it had become a sticking point with my husband.  It was a matter of pride for him.  He'd researched everything he could find about diamonds, about diamond companies, about settings and everything else diamond.  He even measured my finger while I was sleeping one night.   No ordinary diamond ring would be good enough for Shawn's wife; I deserved the best.  It's definitely very pretty, but really, Shawn put so much thought and love into researching and purchasing my ring, that it's more beautiful than any other ring I've seen.  To me, it looked so big that I was afraid to wear it for weeks!  To my husband's chagrin, that "computer part" sat in it's box, tucked away in my jewelry box for quite a while.

Monday of this week, Shawn told me in passing that some new memory for his computer was on its way. I'd need to sign for it, blah, blah, blah.  Yep, okay honey, sure.  The box arrived today and I put on his desk without giving it a thought.

Truthfully, I wasn't expecting anything other than a kiss and a hug for Mother's Day this year.  We just had the driveway paved, we're doing some landscaping, and there are a gazillion other things that are more important than a gift I don't need.  So, when Shawn called the boys into his office to have them help him open his box of memory, I still was not catching on.  But, here it is, my beautiful, unexpected, thought-out Mother's Day gift.  I have to say, Shawn's always had pretty good taste in computer parts.

Sooner or later, if enough computer parts come in, I might eventually catch on to this wonderful little charade of his.

I'm Done, I'm Out, Day's Over, Week's Complete...

...and it's only Tuesday morning.


Another story from left field to make you feel a little bit better about your own day....


Noah left his phone out last night, and when Avery grabbed it while I was showering, I didn't think too much about it.  Noah has it passcode-locked, so there couldn't be too much damage Avery could get into with it, right?  I've had that gnarly flu nastiness that's going around, so I took my time showering, took my time drying off, got dressed, then decided it was probably time to chase Avery to get the phone back.  He told me he's talking to Noah so I took a detour through the kitchen to get a drink.  Isn't it cute how much fun he's having, pretending to talk to his older brother?  Avery informs "Noah" that Mommy's getting a drink, says "Shhh, I'm on the phone!" when I use the ice machine in the fridge.  Finally, I gave chase, got the phone from the giggling toddler and I hear, "Ma'am?  Ma'am?  Are you there?  I just need to verify some information with you!"  OMGosh.  WHAT???  HE CALLED 911.  He'd been talking with the dispatcher for 10 minutes while I took my time showering, drying off, getting dressed, getting my drink (which, I feel I should point out was water, before DHS and a deputy show up on my doorstep with a breathalyzer).  I confirmed my information with her, apologized profusely and explained what had happened as Avery screamed in the background because I'd taken the phone away from him.  She laughed (I'm sure she felt obligated to), said it happens all the time (I'm sure it doesn't), I apologized again for taking her away from her incredibly important job, prayed that we didn't hold up a truly important emergency call, thanked her for her unbelievable patience and understanding, and she reassured me that it will be the highlight of her day (gee, thanks).  


Kind of reminds me of the week I had to call Poison Control two days in a row and was gently reminded to keep things out of my child's reach.  "Um, I do.  He's just a very determined climber."

This kid isn't just giving me any old gray hairs, he's giving me WHITE hair.

I See You, and I Hear You

Last year sometime, there was some 'crisis' of sorts on one of the shows Shawn and I watch.  The parental couple started going through marriage counseling, and one morning during breakfast, after the wife spoke her opinion on a matter, the husband said to her, "I see you, and I hear you."  Their adult children were pleasantly mystified by this change in their father, and the crisis was solved.  If only real life were that simple.

When Shawn and I first saw that tv episode, I see you and I hear you kind of became a joke with us.  We saw and heard each other about everything, from passing the vegetables at dinner, to matters pertaining to the children.  And we had great laughs over it.  Then we realized, that even in our great marriage, we were missing the point.  Without even discussing it, we began to see and hear each other over the more serious matters.  Seeing and hearing each other has ended many arguments before they've even begun, prevented the I'm right, you're wrong and I told you so mentalities and just made us better with each other.  This became another way of telling each other that we love and care about us.

This has been a bad week for me.  My physical pain has been sky high.  Things get interesting when your body doesn't cooperate with your brain.  Throw some Vicodin in with that, and you've got a party.  My emotional pain has been a little on edge too.  I hurt, plain and simple.  I don't want to be fixed (well, okay, maybe just a little), I just want to be validated.

Shawn, God love him, just wants to fix me.  He wants me to laugh.  He wants my brain and body to cooperate with each other.  He wants the Vicodin back in the lockbox on the top shelf, where it belongs.  He just wants his wife back, plain and simple.  Not being able to slay what ails his wife leaves my dear husband feeling helpless.  He just wants to be validated in his tough-fix-it-manly-husbandness.

Shawn understands that no matter how badly he wants to fix me, he can't.  What he can do for me is see me and hear me.  And most of the time, that's what I really want, and that's all I really need.  In a way, being able to see me and hear me validates him and leaves him feeling less helpless.  When we both see and hear each other on these matters, we both feel better.

So often, that's all any of us really need.  When my friend and I talk, she knows I can't fix her problems, and sadly, no matter how badly I want to fix them for her, I know I can't.  What I can do though, is listen. I can validate her, her feelings, her emotions.  I can see her and hear her.  She does the same for me (and I am so glad she does).  We find ourselves saying something to each other, then saying, "Thank you.  I just needed someone to know that.  I just needed to be able to say that out loud."  We don't need to hear that we're wrong, we don't need to be judged for what we're saying, we don't want advice, or to hear I told you so.  Again, seeing and hearing each other, validating each other's feelings, is how we tell each other that we love and care about us.

When people comes to the center where I volunteer, they don't want to be fixed.  They come to us because they are tired of people trying to fix them.  They are tired of hearing they need to get over their pain or grief, that they need to move on with their lives, they are tired of unwanted advice and of being ignored.  What they want, is be to be seen and heard.

Imagine what this world would be like if we all took the time to see and hear each other.  How would it be if we truly stopped to see and hear the cashier who is having a bad day, the gentleman who holds the door open for us, the new mom with the baby who cries all night, the single parent who is exhausted?  Think about it....  Just a smile, a handshake, eye contact, even a hug.  That could be all it takes for that one person that day.

This is what God does for us.  I personally don't believe He is in the business of fixing, at least, not in the human sense.  Neither is he in the business of telling us I told you so.  Instead, He hears us and He sees us.  In doing so, He loves us unconditionally, He cares about us, He validates us as His children.  He never leaves us.  We are always important to us.  In hearing us and seeing us, we are daily granted His grace and mercy.  This is one of His many gifts to us.

Seeing a person and hearing a person tells them that we care.  It tells them that they, their feelings and their problems are important to us.  So often, this is a gift we can give each other, to just listen, to not talk, but to just be there with our eyes and ears, without judgement, without advice, without empty promises or fake compassion.

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.