A day at the doctor…

Well, I must really be ill. I've had four straight days of fever. This morning I was in tears with misery and relented to going to Urgent Care to see if anything could be done about my ridiculous dizziness, cough and aching. I rolled right out of bed and somehow despite not being able to even stand up straight, found the energy to smear on a bit of lip gloss because no matter how ridiculous the rest of me looked right out of my sweaty sick bed, I was NOT going to be seen without lip gloss. Turns out that was a waste of time...

I arrived at Urgent Care at 11am. Had to get all my info. into the "system"….SSN, birth date, closest relatives, insurance, marital status, occupation, HIPAA, blah, blah, blah. That took 30 minutes. While waiting, the lovely receptionist informed me that since I had a fever I would be required to wear a yellow surgical mask for the duration of my stay. Yes, a surgical mask. I totally get it. But, seriously….you should have seen how ridiculous I was. Certainly not one of my better moments. All my lip gloss rubbed off inside.

And, just let me say for the record that if you've never worn a surgical mask for 3 straight hours you have NO IDEA how HOT those things are. I was breathing my own hot breath…sweating and all underneath that thing. It was miserable. When no one was around, I did have to pull it down for a few seconds just to get a bit of fresh air.

I finally got called in for the initial nurse check over – weight, questions about relatives, overall health and then she declared with certainty that "you have the FLU, honey." I got what she called the "dreaded flu swabby" in which she jammed a six inch q-tip up my nose and must have swabbed my brain. I think I felt the thing behind my eyeball.

45 minutes later, the doctor arrived. Looked in my nose, mouth and ears and said he thought I had the flu.

30 minutes later, doctor came back and said flu test is negative….better get a chest x-ray.

30 minutes of chest x-ray action.

30 minutes later, doctor came back and said no pneumonia. Well, thank goodness. I'm sure I'll get a $500 bill for that relief.

Then, he took the next several moments to explain to me how we live in a viral world and pretty much how there's no telling what I have but that he'd give me two prescriptions – one for head congestion and one for dizziness. I think that was an obligatory prescription because he perhaps felt guilty that I had been there for THREE HOURS and was about to walk out with NO DIAGNOSIS.

So, I'm back at home tonight after having wasted half my day at Urgent Care. I'm just gonna sit here in the house and wait to get better or wait until the medical bills from today's visit start to roll in…whichever happens first. It'll probably be the latter.

What’s a lonely mom to do…?

My parents came for a visit over the weekend. Delightful! What's even more delightful is that they offered to take all three of my babes back home with them for the remainder of the week. Well, they really offered to take the two older ones fearing that Richie may have several slightly modified versions of his bubble gum fits in which he goes on and on with the crying over missing his mommy. However, I insisted that he would be just fine….a little spanking may be necessary, but he'd soon get over it and it would certainly not be bad enough that they should leave the one child here with ME! I really was thrilled at the prospect of three entire kid-free days.

Yesterday morning as they were prepared to leave, I knew something was amiss. After dealing with what I thought were allergies for a few days, I began to feel achy. Stink! Just what I needed on Day One of Kid Free-ness was to spend it in bed nursing a fever and a nasty cough. But, that's what I did. The house was eerily quiet. I was completely alone. I was missing them before they even pulled out of the driveway. Now, I was sick….which meant I couldn't do all the glorious things that moms temporarily without kids are supposed to be able to do. I wanted to spend hours walking around the mall, get a pedicure, read a gardening book, watch movies, scrapbook, have tea with a friend. But no, it was not meant to be.

Today, I'm on Day Two of Kid Free-ness and I'm starting to feel the pressure. Feeling somewhat better, but still not up to par. I'd like to do something from my fun list, but the house is a wreck. I have the unfortunate affliction of not being able to do anything fun until the entire house is in order….dishes done, beds made, floor swept, laundry at least sorted and not overflowing in baskets. AHHH! So, even if I felt like doing something FUN, I have to clean up first.

It's hopeless.

Meanwhile, I miss the little stinkers like crazy. I know they're having fun. But, as I sit here guzzling my Emergen-C and staring over the laptop at the unsightly mess in my kitchen, I'm starting to wonder if I ought not just throw all caution to the wind and do something fun BEFORE I clean up.

Oh, the pressure to make the most of these days is intense.

Not so rough and tumble…

Yesterday Carson was invited over for playtime with a friend from school. Carson usually misses out on our play dates here at home because he's in school, so he and I were both very excited that he could have time with a classmate outside of class. When Classmate's mom called to set it up, she mentioned that Carson might want to bring a pair of boots. In case you haven't seen the news lately, MO has turned into a flooded mess this past week. She also thought it would be nice if Carson brought his bike and helmet because there are some fun trails around their property where the boys could go exploring.

Boots? Hmmm….Carson doesn't own boots. Not rain boots or snow boots or cowboy boots….I figure if the activity requires boots then it's clearly too messy. No boots.

Bike? We got Carson a bike two Christmases ago and I think he's tried to ride it twice. It still has training wheels. It's probably too short for him since he's now 6 and it was given to him when he was 4. No bike.

Exploring? Our definition of exploring is venturing ever so slightly over into our neighbors' green grass yard for one or two minutes at a time….or perhaps finding a new ride at Silver Dollar City.

So, I dropped Carson off bike-less, helmet-less and wearing an old pair of tennis shoes. The shoes were clearly insufficient for the amount of muddy play that was about to ensue, so Classmate's mom immediately offered a pair of their spare boots which they kept in a box on the front porch evidently for cases such as this when moms drop off their sons clearly unprepared for all the manly fun.

Their yard was a little boys play heaven. Expansive space, trees galore, small pond-ish areas, giant sticks, toy guns, tractors, four-wheeler toys. And plenty of mud.

When I went back to pick Carson up I found him with mud from his knees down, boots on, stick in hand running about the place in blissful glee. Classmate informed me that they had a wonderful time and said that perhaps next time Carson comes over he could help with their family project of cutting down a couple of trees near the house. The kids' job would be as the chainsaw loosens the base of the tree to pull on the large ropes at the top of the tree until it fell.

Chainsaw? Don't even get me started.

Thank heaven we're not all the same. How would we ever learn?

How NOT to look cool or smart…

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog entitled How NOT to make your girlfriends like you. I'm considering starting a series on "How NOT To"s because it would seem that I lately have more to bring to the bloggy table by way of learning from my unfortunate mistakes rather than offering up some well-thought, creative morsels of How TO.

Beware. The remainder of this post delves into the depths of my psyche. If that frightens you (as well it probably should) and you feel you need to meander off into some otherr's more frivolous bloggy drivel by all means feel free. I am un-offended.

I hate being perceived as dumb. It's one of my greatest fears. If I think that you think that I'm not all together upstairs, I'll likely have an anxiety attack.

Earlier this week, I sent an email to a friend. In the email I made reference to "Gov. Jim Talent"…….TWICE! Now, anyone who knows their Missouri state current events can tell you right away the gross mistake I had made. Clearly, Jim Talent is not the governor of Missouri. Matt Blunt is the governor of Missouri. Jim Talent is a former SENATOR. I knew that! I really did. I'm quite sure my friend just brushed over this little mistake with an "oh, poor girl" and moved right along with her life. But, when I realized just this morning that I had made this mistake last week, I spent a good two hours obsessing over how in the world I was going to right this wrong and clearly explain to my friend that I'm not a total political moron. I thought about sending her an email explaining myself, but I thought that would be a bit too much. Maybe a more subtle approach….say, slipping the words "former senator Jim Talent" into our next conversation with emphasis on the "senator" just to make sure she hears me clearly. Perhaps I could get a little t-shirt printed up with Jim Talent's face on the front and the word SENATOR just below….then I could wear it next time I see her. On the back, it would say, I AM NOT AN IDIOT. I think that's the real message I'd want to send. Definitely how NOT to look cool or smart.

I felt like one of those poor souls that appear on Jay Leno's L.A. in-the-streets segments where they ask ridiculous questions like "whose face is on the American penny?" and the person stands there blankly and then finally says "uh……Mickey Mouse?" Definitely how NOT to look cool or smart.

This whole incident reminded me of a similar event several weeks ago. I normally enjoy calling people by name when I pass them in the hallway at work or at church. I feel it's an affirming thing to do. So, one evening at church recently, I passed a girl who I've known as an acquaintance for several years. Upon passing her, I said quite chipperly, "HI, DEBORAH!!" She smiled and said hello in return. It was .005 seconds later that I was struck with sheer panic. Her name isn't Deborah. It's Diana! Dang-it! I wanted to turn around and apologize profusely, but the shame of my error was too much to bear and I just kept walking. I obsessed for the next several days about how to right that wrong….to let her know that I do in fact know her name. Should I call her? Should I bring it up next time I see her? Should I send her flowers and a card with her name on the front? Definitely NOT how to look cool or smart.

Bottom line….if you want to NOT look cool or smart, speak before you think. Then, spend an inordinate amount of time coming up with ridiculous ways to go back and make it right. Then, write a blog about it so everyone can be disturbed over the workings of your inner self.

Or, if you want to BE cool and smart try not trying so hard to look cool and smart. Just laugh at yourself and don't obsess over silly things you say. It's okay to look dumb now and again and perhaps even healthy to catch a little dose of humility.

Bracketology...

Today is one of my favorite days of the year. Selection Sunday…that glorious day when the NCAA basketball conference tournaments championships are won and the field is set for the NCAA tournament. I like it better than most holidays. It ranks over every special day except Christmas, kids’ birthdays and Easter. Well, and maybe except our wedding anniversary. Maybe. :) I remember as a young teen falling in love with basketball....actually falling in love with Christian Laettner whose last second jump shot in the 1992 tournament to put Duke over Kentucky in what is the BEST PLAY IN THE HISTORY OF EVER.


That game turned me into a college basketball fan! After that game, I spent countless hours collecting magazine articles, newspaper articles, anything I could find and compiling them into my Duke Blue Devils super fan scrapbook. I was obsessed. I have great memories after that of filling out brackets annually with my little brother who would painstakingly write them out by hand and paste them up on his bedroom wall. Making our picks holds great memories for me.

The tradition has carried down now officially to our children. We’ve been watching a fair amount of college ball around here since our friend Tyler Hansbrough (from my hometown of Poplar Bluff, MO and incidentally whom I used to babysit!) has become the front man for the North Carolina Tar Heels and this season’s Sports Illustrated Player of the Year. We have a basketball in the boys’ room autographed by both Tyler and Ben (now at Mississippi State) that their family gave to us when Richie was born…way back when the biggest news about them was their leading the Poplar Bluff High School team to their second Missouri State championship. Now, we watch them on tv and somehow it never gets old seeing them play. We just sit back and think about how amazing it is that kids from our little neck of the woods in MO are making such a big name for themselves. We’re so proud of them. And our kids get SO excited to watch them play. Needless to say, my old loyalties to Duke have suffered a tragic end as we are now a family fully devoted to the Tar Heels and their quest to dominate college hoops!

Tonight, we had a family meeting after church. Each of us who are able to write…which did not include Richie who preferred to watch an episode of Wow Wow Wubbzy…gathered at the kitchen table with our printed brackets. We gave the kids a short lesson in bracketology and then proceeded to fill out our picks. We all, of course, have UNC taking it all except for Avery who seemed to go her own way on most of her choices despite our instructions that a #1 will nearly ALWAYS beat a #16. Richard and I placed our brackets on the fridge along with Avery who did not want to “lose hers under the bed,” while Carson has decided to sleep with his. Perhaps he’s going to pray over it later.

Now, the wait is on for Thursday when the games begin. I’m anticipating great joy watching how our picks play out and even greater joy if the Heels take it all! It’s March Madness, BABY!!

Sing, sing, sing…

My good friend Natalie wrote a get-you-thinking post the other day about music in which (among other things) she kindly credited me with helping to broaden her musical tastes during our two years together as college roommates. I've always liked just about every kind of music (except of course the "nasty hard core devil stuff…you know what I mean"). I love Bon Jovi and John Mayer. Miley Cyrus and James Blunt. The Gaithers and Journey. Stephen Curtis Chapman and George Strait. The Killers and CFNI. My favorite radio station is Sirius 9 – The Pulse (90's and today). This morning on the way to school, I was delighting the children by Sirius-ly getting down to Marky Mark's Good Vibrations. That got me thinking about C&C Music Factory and Boyz II Men. I love the Goo Goo Dolls, Garth Brooks, Sarah McLachlan, Dave Matthews, Bela Fleck, Barry Manilow, Celine Dion….. I could go on and on.

But, like my friend Natalie, nothing really cuts to the heart like the old hymns. Earlier this week, Carson's Kindergarten class gave a performance during which they recited Psalm 23 and the poem "Whistles" and played a bell choir hymn. That's enough to make a momma break out the tissues. But, it was when they all sang Take My Life by Frances Ridley Havergal that I really choked up. Somehow unlike all the other music in the world, there are a handful of hymns that speaks right to the heart of me…my purpose and my hope.

Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee.
Take my moments and my days;
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my hands, and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love.
Take my feet, and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee.

Take my voice, and let me sing,
Always, only, for my King.
Take my lips, and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee.

Take my silver and my gold;
Not a mite would I withhold.
Take my intellect, and use
Every power as Thou shalt choose.

Take my will, and make it Thine;
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own;
It shall be Thy royal throne.

Take my love; my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure-store.
Take myself, and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee.

The way we were…

Well, we just returned on Sunday from a wonderful 4 days in the Dominican Republic. Richard and I had somehow managed not to take one single getaway trip since our honeymoon and it's going on 8 YEARS PEOPLE!! So, it was time. We were invited to go along with some of our best friends and we had a blast!

We stayed at the Dreams Resort in Punta Cana and overall, I'd say it was quite nice. I would give the service an 8 out of 10, the food a 7 and the facilities an 8 (it would be a 9, but our room had this really nasty smell like when you leave wet towels on the floor too long in the laundry room…uh…not that I've ever done that, of course!). The water was all shades of aqua, blue and green. The foliage was rich. The weather was perfect! It was 85 in the day and 75 at night. One of my favorite things to do is sleep with the windows open and we were able to sleep every night with the patio door wide open. We could hear the palm leaves blowing in the wind all night long.

We spent every day doing nothing. We woke up early so as not to waste any beach time, ate breakfast, went to the beach, sunned, read, sipped a few delightful drinks, showered, had dinner, played games after, slept…..washed, rinsed and repeated times three!

The trip, aside from being a glorious escape from our routine, really served to remind me of the way we were….the last time we were able to go away together for awhile. I think a little spark of love re-appeared that has always been there, but just hadn't taken the time in awhile to reflect upon what with all the Mommy business and such. I have the greatest spouse in the world….for me….really I do. I'm so blessed!

Hopefully it won't take another 8 years for us to do something like this again!

My organizing HERO…

A few weeks ago, we moved my office furniture in with Richard's so that we could free up my office for a playroom. All the stray toys that had no home were thrust into the new playroom. Not placed, thrown. We had bookshelves, but they were empty because all of the toys were in the floor. There were crayons strewn about. The toddler kitchen dishes, appliances, wooden fruit and plastic dry goods were scattered all over the floor. Balls, game pieces, toy tools, dvds, puzzles, cut pieces of who knows what paper EVERYWHERE. It was so bad that I couldn't even go into the room. It was such an enormous mess that as soon as I darkened the door it was as if I was immediately paralyzed. I had no idea what to do or even where to begin with cleaning it up, MUCH LESS actually organizing it into anything remotely useful or fun.

Enter Heather. My new hero. She came over for a play-date and knowing that she's particularly gifted with organizing, I went out on a limb and asked if she would just but look at the room and give me a few pointers. Well, she did much more than that. She walked in the room and immediately said, "Oh, this isn't bad at all!" WHAT? This room that I can't move in, can't breathe in, keeps me awake at night for all the horrors of mess? It isn't that bad? Who is this person? THEN….she proceeds to start picking stuff up and organizing it into stations. Stations? I never would have thought of such a thing. We needed a station for crafts, a station for kitchen, a station for reading, a station for sports. Oh, yes, and let's move this bookshelf perpendicular to the wall to create sort of a room within a room effect for coziness. Oh, and the reading corner should be here, just under this one bright light. Yes, and the little girl's iron and ironing board should go with the kitchen in the household area…because that just makes sense. Oh, and this table is perfect for crafts. You need to buy a little organizing basket and have crayons, paper, scissors, glue, etc. all here on hand and the table. Yes…brilliant! Oh, and while we're at it, get the vacuum for me…we need to get these papers up out of here. Do you have a shorter extension cord? What are you using the closet for? How do you feel about moving the tv "here" for better flow?

She must have had a hidden magic wand, people, because in a mere 45 minutes Heather the Hero had turned our nasty playroom into a clean, organized, preschooler-friendly area AND she took the time to train the little people in the house on just where everything was supposed to go and what everything needed to look like in order to qualify as "picked up."

There's nothing like seeing another person's gifts in action!!

Thanks a million, Heather. I've slept well ever since! J

Sounds of life…

Today I settled in for my Sunday afternoon nap. I was a little concerned at first that my rest would not be so sweet due to all the commotion outside. Carson and Avery were out enjoying the 70 degree weather and had invited our backdoor neighbor children to join them. There was much laughing, yelling, running and screaming going on. But, I didn't really have the heart to stomp out, lean over the back of the deck and give the four of them the mean mommy face while they were clearly having such fun. So, I decided that instead of letting their loudness irritate me and ruin my nap that I would instead embrace it and let it be a soothing backdrop for my rest. And, that it was.

The breeze outside whipped around the house and the sunshine was streaming in through my bedroom windows. Their bursts of laughter intermingled with the chirping songs of little birds. The squeak, squeak of the swing kept time while the kids pushed each other and flew through the air. These are the sounds of life for me. Life in our hearts. Life in our home. Life in our relationships. The laughter reminded me that these are the sounds I live for. Sounds of joy. Sounds of sunny days. Sounds of enjoying life.

I thought back to what the sounds of life have been in the past for me. Sounds of music – can I get an AMEN for the 90's? Sounds of marching band. Sounds of my best friends' laughter. Sounds of the ocean on my first date with RWB. Sounds of "I DO" and "Mom, we're moving….again."

Sounds of babies – that all too familiar wha-wha-wha-wha-wha that sometimes went on for hours on end. Sounds of first words. Sounds of Dora and the Wiggles. Sounds of splashes and giggles in the bathtub. Sounds of "Happy Birthday To You." Sounds of first heartbeats and sounds of diapers filling up. Even though in their present perhaps unpleasant, they were always sounds of life.

I thought ahead to what the sounds of life might be in the future. Sounds of children reading. Sounds of inquisitive conversation. Sounds of backyard sports. Sounds of someone else starting the washing machine! J Sounds of cars starting and kids driving away. Sounds of the front door welcoming my college kids home for a holiday. Sounds of "I DO" and "Mom, we're moving…again." Even though in their present they will be perhaps heart wrenching, they will still be sounds of life.

Whether joyous or painful, funny or sad, worthy of praise or deserving of discipline, they are all sounds of life.

So, as I laid there today drifting in and out of sleep, I rested well under the sounds of my babes, reminiscing about sounds that have been and looking ahead to sounds that will be…..relishing the sounds that are now and thanking God for what life they bring to my heart.