Somewhere deep in my chest, in the center of my rib cage, in the space between my lungs, is a tiny red balloon.
Most of the time it is deflated: just hanging, empty, unnoticed.
But whenever Avram cries too hard, or is too quiet during breakfast, it puffs up just a little. When he is fussy or has a slight fever, it inflates a little more.
When I stupidly google information about his conditions, a little more air gets blown in. When he misses a milestone or doesn't want to do his exercises, the balloon gets bigger still.
When he has a seizure, the balloon sucks up all the air in my body and fills my chest.
Little by little the tiny puffs blow up the tiny red balloon, until I can't breathe, or think, or eat. It squeezes my lungs and makes my mind race and tightens up all the tiny muscles in my neck.
But then I have a good cry with God, and the balloon deflates a little. I read some Psalms, or the Book of John, and it deflates a little more.
I hug my husband and rest my head on his shoulder, and the balloon gets smaller still.
I see that baby smile, I hear him laugh, I watch him slide like a snake all over the apartment, I taste his apple juice-flavored cheeks, and I forget, once again, about the tiny balloon.
It's always there, and I doubt it ever won't be. I am learning that life is much more little-by-little than big leaps at a time. Little by little the tiny red balloon becomes tinier, and tinier.
Little by little.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
{sitting, watching, waiting}
Well, here we are at the hospital again.
Tuesday morning I got up, happy that the little man had slept through the night after our recent battles with the evil Night Terrors. He was still quiet when I got up, so I made a quick phone call to my dad and mentioned that Avram was sleeping in late. As soon as I hung up the phone I started to worry, so I went in to check on him.
I walked in to find him covered in vomit, staring in to space.
I called 911.
He was responsive, but limp, and at my first-very-panicky-glance it looked like there was blood in his vomit. The firetruck and ambulance came screaming down our street, and before I knew it I was standing in my foyer, still dressed in pjs, crying, handing my baby over to three giant firemen.
I must have looked like a real nut job.
The paramedics checked out his throw-up and took Avram's vitals, meanwhile telling me to put some real clothes on and pack a diaper bag. They decided that his vitals were stable, the dark junk in his vomit was not blood, and that he was responsive, and told me that they would let J & I take him to the emergency room on our own if we wanted. J came home from work and we rushed him in to the children's hospital.
We spent the next nine hours in a closet-sized room in the ER while they took just about every possible fluid from Avram's poor body: blood, urine, snot, spinal fluid. After a CT scan and series of x-rays the neurosurgeon came in to tell us that Ave's shunt was fine, which was my biggest concern. Vomiting, fever, and irritability can be signs that his shunt is either malfunctioning or infected; which, if that was the case, he would have been rushed in to surgery. So, knowing that his shunt was ok made us feel a lot better.
Sort of.
He wasn't keeping anything down: milk, pedialyte...nothing. His fever stayed at 102 for most of the morning, and nothing would console him. He cried all day, refusing to sleep.
At 7:30pm the hospital admitted us and took us upstairs to our room. Avram took a bottle, promptly brought it back to the surface, and then drifted off to sleep.
J went back home for the night, since the hospital only allows one parent to sleep over. With the buddy sleeping soundly, I tried to settle in for the night. Unfortunately, I apparently do not weigh enough to keep the fold-out chairs in the bed position: each time I stretched out & snoozed off, the bed would snap back into chair form, like that old Donald Duck cartoon.
So far the doctors think he just has a bad virus: a really swollen throat, ear infection, that sort of thing. They have him on fluids, an antibiotic, and some Tylenol for his throat. Poor guy still can't bear to eat or drink anything. Thankfully, he's sleeping now.
I love Children's Memorial. I honestly do. The doctors are patient, always answer our questions thoroughly, and never make us feel like we're just another item on their to-do list. The nurses are helpful, kind, and check on us frequently. My only frustration has been Avram's discomfort. Since 2pm yesterday he has either been sleeping or crying: much more the latter than the former. He is inconsolable.
I have had a hard time being patient with the doctors when their only answer is to run more tests, to keep an eye on him. I want him to stop crying. I don't want him to be in pain. Give him something so he's not in pain, doc! Do whatever you have to do to find out what's wrong, but let him get some rest already.
I am trying to be patient. I am trying to be Avram's best advocate while letting the doctors do their jobs. I am trying to remember that God is a builder and not a magician.
He is sleeping now, so we are sitting. Sitting, watching, waiting.
Tuesday morning I got up, happy that the little man had slept through the night after our recent battles with the evil Night Terrors. He was still quiet when I got up, so I made a quick phone call to my dad and mentioned that Avram was sleeping in late. As soon as I hung up the phone I started to worry, so I went in to check on him.
I walked in to find him covered in vomit, staring in to space.
I called 911.
He was responsive, but limp, and at my first-very-panicky-glance it looked like there was blood in his vomit. The firetruck and ambulance came screaming down our street, and before I knew it I was standing in my foyer, still dressed in pjs, crying, handing my baby over to three giant firemen.
I must have looked like a real nut job.
The paramedics checked out his throw-up and took Avram's vitals, meanwhile telling me to put some real clothes on and pack a diaper bag. They decided that his vitals were stable, the dark junk in his vomit was not blood, and that he was responsive, and told me that they would let J & I take him to the emergency room on our own if we wanted. J came home from work and we rushed him in to the children's hospital.
We spent the next nine hours in a closet-sized room in the ER while they took just about every possible fluid from Avram's poor body: blood, urine, snot, spinal fluid. After a CT scan and series of x-rays the neurosurgeon came in to tell us that Ave's shunt was fine, which was my biggest concern. Vomiting, fever, and irritability can be signs that his shunt is either malfunctioning or infected; which, if that was the case, he would have been rushed in to surgery. So, knowing that his shunt was ok made us feel a lot better.
Sort of.
He wasn't keeping anything down: milk, pedialyte...nothing. His fever stayed at 102 for most of the morning, and nothing would console him. He cried all day, refusing to sleep.
At 7:30pm the hospital admitted us and took us upstairs to our room. Avram took a bottle, promptly brought it back to the surface, and then drifted off to sleep.
J went back home for the night, since the hospital only allows one parent to sleep over. With the buddy sleeping soundly, I tried to settle in for the night. Unfortunately, I apparently do not weigh enough to keep the fold-out chairs in the bed position: each time I stretched out & snoozed off, the bed would snap back into chair form, like that old Donald Duck cartoon.
So far the doctors think he just has a bad virus: a really swollen throat, ear infection, that sort of thing. They have him on fluids, an antibiotic, and some Tylenol for his throat. Poor guy still can't bear to eat or drink anything. Thankfully, he's sleeping now.
I love Children's Memorial. I honestly do. The doctors are patient, always answer our questions thoroughly, and never make us feel like we're just another item on their to-do list. The nurses are helpful, kind, and check on us frequently. My only frustration has been Avram's discomfort. Since 2pm yesterday he has either been sleeping or crying: much more the latter than the former. He is inconsolable.
I have had a hard time being patient with the doctors when their only answer is to run more tests, to keep an eye on him. I want him to stop crying. I don't want him to be in pain. Give him something so he's not in pain, doc! Do whatever you have to do to find out what's wrong, but let him get some rest already.
I am trying to be patient. I am trying to be Avram's best advocate while letting the doctors do their jobs. I am trying to remember that God is a builder and not a magician.
I want them to fix the symptoms, they want to find the source.
I want a temporary fix, but they want a permanent solution.
So we wait.
He is sleeping now, so we are sitting. Sitting, watching, waiting.
Monday, March 14, 2011
{waiting for morning}
Last week was rough.
It wasn't like one big thing dropped, but a lot of tiny things piled up until I just couldn't see the sky anymore. It's always an adjustment coming back to Chicago after traveling, and then Avram had his tiny seizure on Wednesday morning. Then he had night terrors. Every. Single. Night.
Shooting out of bed to the sound of my ten-month-old is screaming at two in the morning probably tops the list of Least Favorite Ways to Wake Up.
As she has many times, my mom came to the rescue this weekend and took care of the little buddy so J & I could get out of the house and breathe for awhile. Having that time to ourselves this weekend has just made the start of this week so much easier.
Last night we only had one night terror episode, a vast improvement from the 4-5 he's been having each night. Going in to soothe him during one of these episodes is just down right bizarre. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, but he's still asleep. Waking him up only startles him more, so we're supposed to just make sure he doesn't hurt himself and gently rub his back. It's hard to imagine someone still sleeping while crying loud enough to probably wake up everyone in our building, but he does. And it's not like he cries for five or six minutes, it's usually 15 or 20. So weird.
Supposedly he might have them for a week or so and then stop. Fingers & toes crossed on that one.
What is possibly even more amazing that Avram's ability to sleep through his screams is that he is still his happy, charming little self during the day. His favorite "toy" right now is his box of wipes. He has figured out how to open up the top and pull out the wipes one by one.
So, this morning, he had pulled out a wipe and started to chew on it.
I said, "No." and gently pulled his hands from his mouth. He smiled, then started to eat the wipe again.
"No."
Smile, eat.
"No."
Smile, giggle, eat.
"No."
Belly laugh.
This tiny man is definitely going to give me a run for my money.
I am just amazed that he can have such a rough night and then be so happy during the day. Lately it seems that just one foul play will mess me up for days. Maybe I've gone soft, maybe I'm letting the Bad things win, maybe I just need a good kick in the pants. Whatever it is, I'm a little grateful for the Night Terrors this week. Because no matter how fear-filled or restless Avram's nights are, his days are always overflowing with joy.
No matter how dark the night, morning always comes.
No matter how dark the night, the light is always brighter.
Maybe I just needed to be reminded of that this week.
It wasn't like one big thing dropped, but a lot of tiny things piled up until I just couldn't see the sky anymore. It's always an adjustment coming back to Chicago after traveling, and then Avram had his tiny seizure on Wednesday morning. Then he had night terrors. Every. Single. Night.
Shooting out of bed to the sound of my ten-month-old is screaming at two in the morning probably tops the list of Least Favorite Ways to Wake Up.
As she has many times, my mom came to the rescue this weekend and took care of the little buddy so J & I could get out of the house and breathe for awhile. Having that time to ourselves this weekend has just made the start of this week so much easier.
Last night we only had one night terror episode, a vast improvement from the 4-5 he's been having each night. Going in to soothe him during one of these episodes is just down right bizarre. He's screaming at the top of his lungs, but he's still asleep. Waking him up only startles him more, so we're supposed to just make sure he doesn't hurt himself and gently rub his back. It's hard to imagine someone still sleeping while crying loud enough to probably wake up everyone in our building, but he does. And it's not like he cries for five or six minutes, it's usually 15 or 20. So weird.
Supposedly he might have them for a week or so and then stop. Fingers & toes crossed on that one.
What is possibly even more amazing that Avram's ability to sleep through his screams is that he is still his happy, charming little self during the day. His favorite "toy" right now is his box of wipes. He has figured out how to open up the top and pull out the wipes one by one.
So, this morning, he had pulled out a wipe and started to chew on it.
I said, "No." and gently pulled his hands from his mouth. He smiled, then started to eat the wipe again.
"No."
Smile, eat.
"No."
Smile, giggle, eat.
"No."
Belly laugh.
This tiny man is definitely going to give me a run for my money.
I am just amazed that he can have such a rough night and then be so happy during the day. Lately it seems that just one foul play will mess me up for days. Maybe I've gone soft, maybe I'm letting the Bad things win, maybe I just need a good kick in the pants. Whatever it is, I'm a little grateful for the Night Terrors this week. Because no matter how fear-filled or restless Avram's nights are, his days are always overflowing with joy.
No matter how dark the night, morning always comes.
No matter how dark the night, the light is always brighter.
Maybe I just needed to be reminded of that this week.
"Still, if you set your heart on God and reach out to Him, if you scrub your hands of sin & refuse to entertain evil, you'll be able to face the world unashamed and keep a firm grip on life, guiltless and fearless.
You'll forget your troubles; they'll be like old, faded photographs. Your world will be washed in sunshine, every shadow dispersed by dayspring.
Full of hope, you'll relax, confident again; you'll look around, sit back, and take it easy."
Job 11:12-18, The Message
Thursday, March 10, 2011
{ jinxed }
I just need to keep my big mouth shut.
Less than a week after the Sun-Times article came out, Avram had his first seizure.
Two days after I mentioned that we were officially two months seizure free, Avram had his third seizure.
Yes, Avram had his third seizure this week. It was tiny, almost unnoticeable. If he hadn't been sitting in his high chair, I may not have even noticed it. Just after breakfast his right foot started twitching, and I had to administer the emergency seizure medicine since it continued for over five minutes. Then, he was happy and continued about his business. It was really, really strange: to have part of Ave's body just spazz out, then having to stick something up his rear to have it stop.
I'm frustrated. Frustrated because the medicine was supposed to keep this from happening, because we have never missed a dose. Frustrated because we were told what to do, we did it, and it didn't work. Frustrated because this probably means he'll be on medicine longer than expected.
This is not what is supposed to happen.
Obviously, I'm not being a very good Christian about all this today. I'm just a little peeved today. A little human and a little pissed off and a little disappointed. I want God to fix this, and I want Him to fix it now. I don't like this. One bit.
We're taking Avram to the Children's Hospital in a little bit just to make sure his shunt is ok. Hopefully we'll be home later this afternoon.
**Update: shunt is good. It was probably the emergency seizure medicine that made him super fussy again last night, but we're still keeping an eye on him. He's good. And after a little time in Psalms, mom is better, too. Still peeved & anxious, but better.
Less than a week after the Sun-Times article came out, Avram had his first seizure.
Two days after I mentioned that we were officially two months seizure free, Avram had his third seizure.
Yes, Avram had his third seizure this week. It was tiny, almost unnoticeable. If he hadn't been sitting in his high chair, I may not have even noticed it. Just after breakfast his right foot started twitching, and I had to administer the emergency seizure medicine since it continued for over five minutes. Then, he was happy and continued about his business. It was really, really strange: to have part of Ave's body just spazz out, then having to stick something up his rear to have it stop.
I'm frustrated. Frustrated because the medicine was supposed to keep this from happening, because we have never missed a dose. Frustrated because we were told what to do, we did it, and it didn't work. Frustrated because this probably means he'll be on medicine longer than expected.
This is not what is supposed to happen.
Obviously, I'm not being a very good Christian about all this today. I'm just a little peeved today. A little human and a little pissed off and a little disappointed. I want God to fix this, and I want Him to fix it now. I don't like this. One bit.
We're taking Avram to the Children's Hospital in a little bit just to make sure his shunt is ok. Hopefully we'll be home later this afternoon.
**Update: shunt is good. It was probably the emergency seizure medicine that made him super fussy again last night, but we're still keeping an eye on him. He's good. And after a little time in Psalms, mom is better, too. Still peeved & anxious, but better.
Monday, February 28, 2011
{30 by 30}
I turn twenty five this week. Twenty five.
A couple months ago J & I were talking about my upcoming birthday, and he warned me about the life-questioning that would soon settle in. He was very sincere, but it all just sounded a little too cliche; you know, all that "what am I doing with my life?" and "who am I?" business. C'mon.
Well folks, here I am: wondering who I am and what I'm doing with my life and where this is all going. My quarter-life crisis, if you will.
The first half of my twenties was fantastic: I lived in Atlanta, had an awesome job as a youth pastor, was in several of my closest friends' weddings. I met a guy, fell in love, had the perfect wedding, had a beautiful baby. I finished my associates degree, I sang at some pretty big worship events, I visited my first national park.
Now that I'm staring down the barrel at the last half of my twenties, I decided I wanted to make a list of things to accomplish by the big 3-0. I debated whether or not to share it, then I thought...oh, what the heck. Some of them are silly, some are a little personal, some are admittedly challenging, but this is The List. I know that checking these items off in no way assures that I will magically be transformed into the person I want to be or that my existence will somehow be more meaningful. I just know that life is getting crazier by the day, and if I don't write things down, they just might get lost in the shuffle.
So ladies and gentlemen, I present you with my list (in no particular order).
1. Read Lord of the Rings. I just need to.
2. Run a marathon. I know. So does everybody.
3. Learn how to change a tire.
4. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Mainly because I just want to drive my brother's MG.
5. Go to the Johnny Appleseed Festival. As unbelievable as this may sound, I grew up in Fort Wayne and managed to never go. It's one of the biggest things Fort Wayne has, and I have never been. Time to change that.
6. Make a quilt. A real one. I've made blankets, but I want to make a real-deal quilt. I think I'll make one for Avram's bed as he graduates to a bigger bed.
7. Plant a vegetable garden. One of my favorite childhood memories is helping my dad with the garden, and I can't wait for our little family to have one of our own.
8. Learn how to can veggies. Obviously closely related to item #7. With produce prices on the the rise, I want to help our family make as much of our own food as possible. I really want to teach our kids where food comes from and how precious of a gift it really is.
9.Get a bicycle. Ok, so I had one. How it ceased to exist is a funny story for another time. We're really looking forward to family bike rides in the next few years, so having my own bicycle is pretty essential.
10. Get paid to do something. As in, you know, a job. I've never been more clueless as to what I want to "do," but I am understanding more and more that I will never be defined by my occupation. Regardless, I want to bring home some bacon. No idea what that means yet, but I want to at least have an idea in the next five years.
11. Get my bachelor's degree. This is probably the most challenging one of all, considering Avram won't be in school all day until I'm 30. Also because I have no idea what I will major in. Regardless, it's on the list.
12. Learn how to crochet. I'm a knitting machine. Apparently crocheting is easier than knitting. I'd like to see for myself.
13. Take a photography class/learn how to use a real camera. This one also includes purchasing a nicer camera. I love our little Canon Powershot, but as Avram gets older and we have more tiny people running around, I really want to be able to capture as much as I can. I have no idea what I'm doing right now; I just push buttons and keep taking pictures until it looks, um, alright.
14. Read the Bible. A lot of people make it their goal to read the entire Bible in a year. I think that's great and all, but that's a lot of serious reading for one year. I read the whole Bible in a summer once, and I remembered zilch. If you're flying through the Bible that fast, how much are you really absorbing? Maybe it works for some people. I want to take the next five years and read the whole sucker; I want to take my time and eat up every word.
15. Go kayaking. I've been canoeing, whitewater rafting, paddle-boating...time to give kayaking a shot.
16. Go cross-country skiing. ...why not?
17. Buy my own power tools. I just need to own a drill. And a really sweet staple gun. And a saw. And a nail gun. And...
18. Finish the American Film Institute Top 100 Movies. J & I started the list about three years ago, and we're more than halfway done. It will probably take us another two years to finish. Then, we'll probably start all over again. They're that good.
19. Start assembling a real wardrobe. I need to start putting together a grown-up's closet. Preferrably one that does not include sweatpants purchased in the kids' section. Or any items that I wore in high school. Or anything from Forever 21. I honestly think this will be the second hardest item on the list, because I'm tiny. And not a whole lot of adult stores carrying clothes for tiny people. But I shall not yield.
20. Take a trip with just my husband. Our five year anniversary will be in 2013, and I'm hoping we can take a real trip together. Not just somewhere for the weekend (which we will undoubtably do), but a real trip together.
21. Use my passport. Between the ages of 10 and 20, I traveled to more foreign countries than many people do in their entire lifetime. Israel, Northern Ireland, Haiti, Scotland, Germany, France, Switzerland. Want to know how many times I've left the country since I turned 20? ZERO. This could also go with item #20, because Jason has never been out of the country, and I'm excited to take him somewhere. Even if it's Canada.
22. Record my dad telling stories. Being a good storyteller is very important in our family, and my dad is a real show off. He can tell a story like no one else. Jason has pointed out that Paul & I will let my dad tell a story we've all heard at least a dozen times just to hear him tell it. I wish we had recordings of my grandpa telling stories, because sometimes I would love to hear his voice again. I really want to start a project of recording my dad telling stories about my grandpa, his childhood, my brother & me as kids...so someday, maybe our grandkids or great-grandkids can hear what a great storyteller he was.
23. Take a trip with my mom. My mom is one of my favorite people to hang out with. And no one deserves a vacation more than she does. One of my favorite childhood vacations was when my mom and I went to Florida together, and I hope we can travel somewhere together in the next five years.
24. Have an article published in a magazine. Dreaming big here, people.
25. Have another baby (or two). Yep.
Visit:
26. Brown County
27. Sleeping Bear Dunes
28. Glacier National Park
29. Jenn in Nebraska. Jenn, one of my BFFs, moved to Lincoln, Nebraska this year. I visited her when she lived in Detroit, in New Hampshire, and in Pennsylvannia, so it just makes sense!
30. Move back to Fort Wayne. Hopefully this will be the first item checked off. If you would have asked me ten years ago if I wanted to live in Fort Wayne, I probably would have laughed. And rolled my eyes. Now, there's nowhere else we would rather live, and I'm willing to do just about anything to make sure it happens.
There are a lot of things I want to do in the next five years that are not on this list, but these are things I really want to see happen. Maybe they will, maybe they won't.
What matters the most is that I have my little family, that we're all healthy, that we're happy: and so far we've got those things, so my road to 30 is off to a pretty good start.
A couple months ago J & I were talking about my upcoming birthday, and he warned me about the life-questioning that would soon settle in. He was very sincere, but it all just sounded a little too cliche; you know, all that "what am I doing with my life?" and "who am I?" business. C'mon.
Well folks, here I am: wondering who I am and what I'm doing with my life and where this is all going. My quarter-life crisis, if you will.
The first half of my twenties was fantastic: I lived in Atlanta, had an awesome job as a youth pastor, was in several of my closest friends' weddings. I met a guy, fell in love, had the perfect wedding, had a beautiful baby. I finished my associates degree, I sang at some pretty big worship events, I visited my first national park.
Now that I'm staring down the barrel at the last half of my twenties, I decided I wanted to make a list of things to accomplish by the big 3-0. I debated whether or not to share it, then I thought...oh, what the heck. Some of them are silly, some are a little personal, some are admittedly challenging, but this is The List. I know that checking these items off in no way assures that I will magically be transformed into the person I want to be or that my existence will somehow be more meaningful. I just know that life is getting crazier by the day, and if I don't write things down, they just might get lost in the shuffle.
So ladies and gentlemen, I present you with my list (in no particular order).
1. Read Lord of the Rings. I just need to.
2. Run a marathon. I know. So does everybody.
3. Learn how to change a tire.
4. Learn how to drive a stick shift. Mainly because I just want to drive my brother's MG.
5. Go to the Johnny Appleseed Festival. As unbelievable as this may sound, I grew up in Fort Wayne and managed to never go. It's one of the biggest things Fort Wayne has, and I have never been. Time to change that.
6. Make a quilt. A real one. I've made blankets, but I want to make a real-deal quilt. I think I'll make one for Avram's bed as he graduates to a bigger bed.
7. Plant a vegetable garden. One of my favorite childhood memories is helping my dad with the garden, and I can't wait for our little family to have one of our own.
8. Learn how to can veggies. Obviously closely related to item #7. With produce prices on the the rise, I want to help our family make as much of our own food as possible. I really want to teach our kids where food comes from and how precious of a gift it really is.
9.Get a bicycle. Ok, so I had one. How it ceased to exist is a funny story for another time. We're really looking forward to family bike rides in the next few years, so having my own bicycle is pretty essential.
10. Get paid to do something. As in, you know, a job. I've never been more clueless as to what I want to "do," but I am understanding more and more that I will never be defined by my occupation. Regardless, I want to bring home some bacon. No idea what that means yet, but I want to at least have an idea in the next five years.
11. Get my bachelor's degree. This is probably the most challenging one of all, considering Avram won't be in school all day until I'm 30. Also because I have no idea what I will major in. Regardless, it's on the list.
12. Learn how to crochet. I'm a knitting machine. Apparently crocheting is easier than knitting. I'd like to see for myself.
13. Take a photography class/learn how to use a real camera. This one also includes purchasing a nicer camera. I love our little Canon Powershot, but as Avram gets older and we have more tiny people running around, I really want to be able to capture as much as I can. I have no idea what I'm doing right now; I just push buttons and keep taking pictures until it looks, um, alright.
14. Read the Bible. A lot of people make it their goal to read the entire Bible in a year. I think that's great and all, but that's a lot of serious reading for one year. I read the whole Bible in a summer once, and I remembered zilch. If you're flying through the Bible that fast, how much are you really absorbing? Maybe it works for some people. I want to take the next five years and read the whole sucker; I want to take my time and eat up every word.
15. Go kayaking. I've been canoeing, whitewater rafting, paddle-boating...time to give kayaking a shot.
16. Go cross-country skiing. ...why not?
17. Buy my own power tools. I just need to own a drill. And a really sweet staple gun. And a saw. And a nail gun. And...
18. Finish the American Film Institute Top 100 Movies. J & I started the list about three years ago, and we're more than halfway done. It will probably take us another two years to finish. Then, we'll probably start all over again. They're that good.
19. Start assembling a real wardrobe. I need to start putting together a grown-up's closet. Preferrably one that does not include sweatpants purchased in the kids' section. Or any items that I wore in high school. Or anything from Forever 21. I honestly think this will be the second hardest item on the list, because I'm tiny. And not a whole lot of adult stores carrying clothes for tiny people. But I shall not yield.
20. Take a trip with just my husband. Our five year anniversary will be in 2013, and I'm hoping we can take a real trip together. Not just somewhere for the weekend (which we will undoubtably do), but a real trip together.
21. Use my passport. Between the ages of 10 and 20, I traveled to more foreign countries than many people do in their entire lifetime. Israel, Northern Ireland, Haiti, Scotland, Germany, France, Switzerland. Want to know how many times I've left the country since I turned 20? ZERO. This could also go with item #20, because Jason has never been out of the country, and I'm excited to take him somewhere. Even if it's Canada.
22. Record my dad telling stories. Being a good storyteller is very important in our family, and my dad is a real show off. He can tell a story like no one else. Jason has pointed out that Paul & I will let my dad tell a story we've all heard at least a dozen times just to hear him tell it. I wish we had recordings of my grandpa telling stories, because sometimes I would love to hear his voice again. I really want to start a project of recording my dad telling stories about my grandpa, his childhood, my brother & me as kids...so someday, maybe our grandkids or great-grandkids can hear what a great storyteller he was.
23. Take a trip with my mom. My mom is one of my favorite people to hang out with. And no one deserves a vacation more than she does. One of my favorite childhood vacations was when my mom and I went to Florida together, and I hope we can travel somewhere together in the next five years.
24. Have an article published in a magazine. Dreaming big here, people.
25. Have another baby (or two). Yep.
Visit:
26. Brown County
27. Sleeping Bear Dunes
28. Glacier National Park
29. Jenn in Nebraska. Jenn, one of my BFFs, moved to Lincoln, Nebraska this year. I visited her when she lived in Detroit, in New Hampshire, and in Pennsylvannia, so it just makes sense!
30. Move back to Fort Wayne. Hopefully this will be the first item checked off. If you would have asked me ten years ago if I wanted to live in Fort Wayne, I probably would have laughed. And rolled my eyes. Now, there's nowhere else we would rather live, and I'm willing to do just about anything to make sure it happens.
There are a lot of things I want to do in the next five years that are not on this list, but these are things I really want to see happen. Maybe they will, maybe they won't.
What matters the most is that I have my little family, that we're all healthy, that we're happy: and so far we've got those things, so my road to 30 is off to a pretty good start.
Friday, February 18, 2011
{mary poppins & therapy balls}
We are heading back to Fort Wayne this weekend, so our morning has been filled with bag-packing, trash-emptying, refrigerator-cleaning, and don't-forget-this-reminders. I definitely do not have packing a family of three down to an art; somehow despite my best efforts to simplify we always depart with a car full of junk we probably won't need.
Amidst all the hustle and bustle around here, there have been countless tiny celebrations the last few days. Avram is back in Physical Therapy and has officially kicked off Occupational Therapy. I have to admit, I love our physical therapists, but OT is so much fun.
For one, our therapist comes with this huge duffel bag full of toys, like she's Mary Poppins or something. It's a never ending supply of bright, blinking, noisy things to bash together and chew on and throw across the room. Also, Ave gets to use a neon green therapy ball. It. Is. Awesome. He bounces on it, rolls on it, smacks it...don't even get me started on how fun it is to roll it back and forth with him. When he sees it bouncing his direction he just throws his head back with giggles, wild with abandon. The babe is in love.
Possibly the best part about Occupational Therapy is that it hardly feels like therapy. It's more like guided play time. Physical Therapy is work, man. I mean, it's Baby Boot Camp for crying out loud. He has to roll and do sit ups and all these fancy balancing exercises. Tough stuff, kids.
It has been so encouraging the last few days to see the results of just one week of the Big Guy being back in therapy. Other people might not notice, but he seems like a different baby every week. J & I can see so many changes in him: how he holds his toys, how he uses his arms, the way he reacts to things, how much confidence he has, how strong he is getting. I mean, just five months ago he was this Slug Baby, unable to even hold his head up. Now he's rolling all over the place, sitting up on his own, getting into all kinds of trouble.
I think I'm finally get God's drift in all this. I've fought and questioned Him every step of the way: from helmets to therapy to medicine...but He has yet to fail us, yet to let us down. If I am learning anything through all of this, it is definitely that I do not always know what is best. With each new path He takes us down, I am seeing His wisdom, I am learning to trust Him. There are so many of the right people in Avram's life right now, so many hands on the banks of the river. We are where we are supposed to be for this moment.
We need a good year, and it is certainly shaping up to be just that.
Amidst all the hustle and bustle around here, there have been countless tiny celebrations the last few days. Avram is back in Physical Therapy and has officially kicked off Occupational Therapy. I have to admit, I love our physical therapists, but OT is so much fun.
For one, our therapist comes with this huge duffel bag full of toys, like she's Mary Poppins or something. It's a never ending supply of bright, blinking, noisy things to bash together and chew on and throw across the room. Also, Ave gets to use a neon green therapy ball. It. Is. Awesome. He bounces on it, rolls on it, smacks it...don't even get me started on how fun it is to roll it back and forth with him. When he sees it bouncing his direction he just throws his head back with giggles, wild with abandon. The babe is in love.
Possibly the best part about Occupational Therapy is that it hardly feels like therapy. It's more like guided play time. Physical Therapy is work, man. I mean, it's Baby Boot Camp for crying out loud. He has to roll and do sit ups and all these fancy balancing exercises. Tough stuff, kids.
It has been so encouraging the last few days to see the results of just one week of the Big Guy being back in therapy. Other people might not notice, but he seems like a different baby every week. J & I can see so many changes in him: how he holds his toys, how he uses his arms, the way he reacts to things, how much confidence he has, how strong he is getting. I mean, just five months ago he was this Slug Baby, unable to even hold his head up. Now he's rolling all over the place, sitting up on his own, getting into all kinds of trouble.
I think I'm finally get God's drift in all this. I've fought and questioned Him every step of the way: from helmets to therapy to medicine...but He has yet to fail us, yet to let us down. If I am learning anything through all of this, it is definitely that I do not always know what is best. With each new path He takes us down, I am seeing His wisdom, I am learning to trust Him. There are so many of the right people in Avram's life right now, so many hands on the banks of the river. We are where we are supposed to be for this moment.
We need a good year, and it is certainly shaping up to be just that.
Friday, February 11, 2011
{shouts of joy}
I may need to work on my reactions.
Two days ago, Ave used his right hand instead of his left hand. For the first time.
I yelled, "Good job!!!!"
Yesterday, the little booger took a piece of cereal in his fingers, brought it up to his mouth, and ate it. All by himself.
I shouted, "YES!" and then burst into tears.
Both times, the buddy's eyes widened like a spooked little owl, and he spent a couple seconds deciding if he was going to cry or laugh. Luckily he chose the latter, and we had quite the gigglefest afterwords. Regardless, I probably need to tone down my excitement over new accomplishments, at least as far as my volume is concerned.
Otherwise, the next time he starts to try something new he'll probably stop and think,
"Well, I really want to crawl over there and gnaw on that shoe. But if I do, that crazy lady will probably get all worked up and make a big scene about it. I should probably just stay here."
Two days ago, Ave used his right hand instead of his left hand. For the first time.
I yelled, "Good job!!!!"
Yesterday, the little booger took a piece of cereal in his fingers, brought it up to his mouth, and ate it. All by himself.
I shouted, "YES!" and then burst into tears.
Both times, the buddy's eyes widened like a spooked little owl, and he spent a couple seconds deciding if he was going to cry or laugh. Luckily he chose the latter, and we had quite the gigglefest afterwords. Regardless, I probably need to tone down my excitement over new accomplishments, at least as far as my volume is concerned.
Otherwise, the next time he starts to try something new he'll probably stop and think,
"Well, I really want to crawl over there and gnaw on that shoe. But if I do, that crazy lady will probably get all worked up and make a big scene about it. I should probably just stay here."
Avram, redecorating the living room for me
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