Neverendingness

I am stuck in the land of neverendingness. In this land, there is never enough time. The list never stops and as you cross one thing off, five more appear in its place. And the list apparently doesn't mind growing because it sends my two year old to me with a new book every few minutes. I mean, I have to choose between the list and the pleading eyes and "mommy peas" coming from my two year old. 99.995% of the time Ichose the two year old because I am well aware that he will not be little forever and there will eventually come a day when he says "mommy" in a different tone and won't be caught dead in my lap with a book. So yes, I chose him. And I know its the right decision.

But back to neverendingness. Just so you know, on this list is the following and I haven't forgotten:

• I owe my sister in law a picture via email.
• I must decide if we are even giving Kale a party and if so, what day/time.
• That I do have sanity, but have temporarily misplaced it.
• That there are two boxes of pull-ups with my son's name on them...in Cave Springs. (and that its ok the pull ups are in Cave Springs because Kale refused anything to do with potty training at home).
• That there is a mountain of towels that need to be laundered...along with a pile of clothing.
• That our bathroom needs a serious cleaning....like the kind where you wear a mask and gloves cleaning.
• Kale's car lot and toy store are about to be attacked...

The one thing I can cross off my list is to empty the clean clothes out of the basket so I can move it to its proper location and put the dirty clothes in the basket. I dumped the clean clothes on the bed. This basket had to be moved so I don't manage to kill myself by half drop kicking it and tripping over it around 3am tomorrow morning and scaring the living hades out of my husband who can apparently wake from a dead sleep asking "Marcia are you ok?" and go back to snoring 5 seconds later. Yes babe, I am fine but I no longer have a left shin. Thanks for asking. Snore.

Editor's note

This is an editor's note about yesterday's blog.

You know, the one that talked about sucker punching.

Kale's daily report showed that he only slept for an hour yesterday during naptime.

He is so my child. I am fairly certain that he did that just to spite me for writing that blog and telling the world he naps for two hours at school.

Oh yes, so very much my child....

PS...he didn't sleep worth diddly last night either. I even had to cut a hangnail on his toe at 3am so he would stop scratching it down my back. If his daddy tries to claim that Kale kicked him all night, I am going to ask him to show me Kale's 3rd and 4th legs/feet!

Sucker punched

My kid sucker punches me. He does it to his daddy too. We should see it coming, but we don't. For the record, he doesn't use his fists. He uses something a tad more subtle...this little thing called control.

At night and for naps during the weekend, this is what happens: I go into his room with him (or his daddy does if I am gone) and he has a bottle of milk. Not a cup, but yes a bottle. Still. Lately, it MUST be baberry milk. I (or his daddy) crawl into bed with him as he drains the milk and slowly lets his eyelids become too heavy. Finally, he will give in to sleep. For naptime he will sleep around 2 hours. At night, we will usually hear little feet running to our room by midnight. And from there its a gamble as to how the rest of the night will go.

Here is what happens at naptime at school: He goes over to his mat and literally flops onto it. Within seconds, his eyes are closing. He usually sleeps the full two hours allowed. No bottle, not even any milk. And nobody laying down with him either.

Since Mema and Papaw were only going to be around this morning before going back to Alma, Kale and I stayed home for a bit today. Granted, today when I got him there, the rest of his class was already sleeping at 12:03pm--and they go down for nap around 12:00. Also, he was nearly falling asleep in the car on the way to school.

But still. He has been completely sucker punching us....

Gap Casting Call

Well, I finally did it. I entered Kale in a casting call. About twice a month, someone will ask if he does any commercials or such. I mean, I know my kid is cute, but there is this thing called motherly bias. I don't know much about kid modeling, so I will tread into the arena lightly and always know my way to the closest exit.

The way this casting call works is that its an open call to the public. You submit the entry online (the deadline has now passed) and can submit up to five pictures. The public can vote for a people's choice. The winner of this category will win a family vacation to some exotic location. To vote, you have to register...so if you want to do that, go ahead and vote for Kale! However, the casting call itself is a group of 20 kids who are picked by a group of people in charge of this event. So, for that part, the public's opinion doesn't matter. They will choose two sets of boys, on group of age 0-5 and another group of 6-10. They will also do this for the girls groups. Thus, five from each age group.

The 20 finalist win a $1000 babyGap or GapKids gift card and a trip to New York or Las Vegas to see the Lion King performance. Oh, and you will see those kids in Gap ads and store displays around the country.

Here is the link so you can see what pics I submitted...and if you want to vote, you can do that too.

http://family.go.com/gapcastingcall/entries/mychaoticfun/

For Kale

This is for Kale. Someday down the road, he will will read this and roll his eyes and tell me I am sooo (insert current word for crazy sappy mommy). But maybe someday on further down the road, he will read this and know it was written with love.

Two years ago, right this moment (10:25am), Kale was resting quite calmly inside my womb. He never, not once, seemed to even acknowledge the stress that my body was experiencing. His only danger was the fact that I was in danger. In true boy form, he was pretty much sending the message of "you deal with it mom, because I am feeling just fine!"

At 11:11am, the doctor brought him out of my womb and into the bright lights and cool air of the operating room. He screamed with all his 4 lb 11oz and 18 inches of might. And then he was quite for .0009 of a second before screaming again. He was not happy with what had happened. He had been warm and comfy and playing with his toes and then BAM, cold air and bright lights and all kinds of people up in his face. So, he turned red and screamed.

His daddy went to be with him as he passed his first tests with flying colors. His apgar scores were equal to those of a full term baby. He was breathing on his own. They wrapped him up and brought him to me. I couldn't hold him. The doctors were still working on me. So they held him beside my head and I whispered to him. He was quiet at that point. I whispered things like "I love you" and "you are sooooo strong" and some more I love you's.

Kale was born a mess of bones and skin. He missed the fattening stage of my pregnancy, so he was pretty darn lean. I remember wondering how long it would take him to grow into his flabby skin that hung from his tiny bones. His butt was non-existent. His eyes were very alert.

I wish I could tell him about the next several hours of his life, but I can't. I can tell him what I remember others telling me. I know that he wasn't on oxygen support long...something like 18 hours as a precaution, but he didn't really need it. I don't know when they started feeding him. I know he had a nasal tube that was used to feed him. He like to snuggle up on his belly, much like he still likes to do now. I know that his daddy came to see him several times but didn't hold him until days later. Son, you intimidated your daddy. He can say that isn't true or that it was something else. Sorry, but you intimiated him with your little itty bittiness. My parents went in to see Kale and touched him and took pictures and fell all kinds of head over heels in love with Kale. I know that Ep took his mom, dad, sister, and brother in law in to see Kale as well. I don't know when though...because I was in the black hole of oblivion (sleep).

I finally got to go see him that night. I didn't really know what to expect. This wasn't the arrival I had imagined for him. I wanted him to be in my room with me and for us to all go home together. Instead, he got his own little section of a room he shared with 2-3 other babies and sometimes it seemed they were all in a competition to see who could make the monitors beep the most. Kale was continually hooked up to oxygen/heart monitors, because that is the rule of the NICU. But after the first few days, those were the only wires that remained attached to him. He battled with jaundice and almost made it out of the incubator but then got sent back because he let his temp drop below 98. Most people don't realize it, but preemies have to work really hard to just keep thier temperature stabilized and over 98 degrees. In fact, they have to LEARN how to do that. The second try out of the incubator worked. We knew we were really making progress. The rule of thumb is that a preemie will stay in the hospital until the original due date. For Kale, that would have been six weeks. He seemed to be more on track for just a few weeks. We had some false starts with getting to go home. Those were emotional and scary moments. Joy of going home, pure fear of taking this tiny baby home and not having nurses to tell you if something isn't right, and then the disapointment that you are not going home after all. Along the way, Kale and I found a compromise with me feeding him. We found a rhythm and things that worked. Really, as long as we gave him my milk, he didn't care if he got it straight from me or from a bottle.

We went from just being able to touch him, to me holding him, to Ep holding him, to feeding him, to walking to the nursing room alone with him....and then we had to go home without him. THAT was hard son. Really hard.

On day 8, we spent a full day/night in the hospital with him to prove that we could care for him continually. We apparently passed the test because the next morning at 9 days old, they gave him shots and circumsized him. Not so much of a wonderful exit from his point of view! I like to look at it as their way of saying, "this should keep you from wanting to come back soon!"

I would like to say that then we went home and life was happy ever after. That wasn't the case and we all know it. But it was our life ever after and your story and us learning quickly how amazingly strong Kale could be.

In the midst of dirty diapers and eating non-stop and waking somebody up every two hours and all the fun that comes with a newborn, Kale had a card up his sleeve. And when Kale showed that card to us, oh boy oh boy, he got our attention. We all know that struggle and adventure Kale gave us.

We all know it was just Kale's way of saying "See how strong I am? Let's just be clear about that now. So, when I am growing and making you want to pull your hair out and constantly making you wonder what is next, you can honestly say that I have ALWAYS been this way from the beginning."

...and we listened.

Kale, happy birthday son. Its been a miraculous and amazingly blessed two wonderful years. Your mommy and daddy and everyone else loves you immensely. We can't remember what life was like before you arrived. (well, we think maybe it involved a litte more sleep). Your mommy and daddy both love you with all of thier hearts. Mommy and Daddy have agreed that we both love you more than we love each other. Son, that is a heck of a lot of love. You constantly keep us in awe and laughing. You never fail to amaze us. You always keep us in our place. Each day, we are thankful for the blessing of Kale George Fletcher.

Two? Really? Two? and some revisiting

Here we are. We are sitting on the eve of Kale turning 2 years old. How did that happen? Ok, yes I know how it happened. I believe it was through a blur of runny noses, dirty diapers, lots of sleeping and eating, and a bunch of laughter along the way. Oh, and don't forget to through in a few near heart attacks for his parents along the way.

I know, eventually, I will be able to find October 20th with nothing more on my mind than Kale turning another year older. But this year, I am once again revisited by the past. I knew, all day on Saturday, what the date was. See, it was the two year anniversary of the obstetrician looking at me and saying "Do not pass go, do not go home, but go straight to the hospital. You don't even get the $200 like you would in the game, and oh yes, don't forget to take your pee jug to them when you go." Then, just for giggles (or maybe just so I would know my reality), he added "when you leave the hospital, you will be a mom." I am pretty sure he meant for my mom to drive me to the hospital. She rode shotgun. I called Ep to tell him the news as I drove. I was pretty much breaking every single "don't" of a someone with severe pre-eclampsia. I am pretty sure someone should have wheeled me up to labor/deliver, but instead I just walked up with my pee jug in hand and told them I was there to be admitted. For a moment, they might have thought I had the wrong floor. Then I said pre-eclampsia and the next thing I know I am in a hospital gown with a fetal monitor attached to me and am getting to see an unexpected third ultrasound of my little guy. When the tech told me his weigth was 4lbs 11oz, but that it could vary up to a pound....I started praying that it was accurrate or that he was bigger than that. Not just for his sake, well ok a lot for his sake, but also because I had gained 45 pounds so I was really hoping that a little more than 4.5 pounds of it belonged to him! (I lost 35 of it during the three weeks after his birth and hte other 10 can't make up its mind about whether to stay or go. I have told it that its free to go!)

I remember the next few days. I remember the visitors and the fact that I didn't leave my hospital room for 56 hours straight. I finally begged the doctor to let me take a pushed wheelchair ride. I really don't think that the two were connected, but I am pretty sure that Ep will never push me anywhere in a wheelchair again, because that night after my wheelchair trip, the real madness began. That was 2 years ago today. It was a Friday. Ep's sister/brother in law brought us dinner from Outback. I was excited to watch some show on tv that night. I was trying to keep Kale cooking for as many days as possible. Then the madness really began.

Let me pause for a moment to say, if you have heard this story before...its ok to stop reading now. But, you might want to keep reading because you might learn a new part of the story...a part that was once forgotten or left out on accident.

By the next morning, I had tried three different heartburn medicines to battle the strange feeling in my chest. They even came and performed an EKG on me. Nothing. The third heartburn medicine made me sick. Thats when I saw the spots they had warned me about. If I saw spots, I had to tell them because a seizure might be eminent. The doctor was called and my 24 hour urine collection was sent off to the lab. The on call doctor, who we had never met because he worked for the partner on call clinic, came in and talked to us. I think he came in twice or maybe once. I just remember the time he came in and dropped the bombshell that "you are having your baby today...and everything is about to start happening fast." He then left but told us that the nurses would be back soon.

I remember looking at Ep....we both started crying or maybe we were both already crying. Its the one time in our ten shared years that we both cried at the same time. When one of us is crying (usually me), then the other one is being too supportive to cry. Not this time. We let the tears run. We were scared. Actually, we were terrified. This was no longer the "hahaha Marcia flunked home bed rest" routine and had just become the reality of we are going to have a baby who will be born six weeks early and he is little and not the 9lb'er we were expecting.

Somewhere, through prayer and tears, we also had a conversation about his name. His chosen name had been a front runner. I remember Ep asking me if we were "going with Kale" and me saying "Yes, I think so." And that my son, is how we finalized your name. I guess God made time stand still to give us those few moments together to make that decision and pray. Because we had barely said Amen and chosen his name when the flurry of nurses arrived.

I was scared about being catheterized. Yes, I know, absurd. I don't remember telling anyone I was afraid of that, but I was. I feared it worse than the idea of them cutting me open. Before I could hardly blink, I was catheterized and being monitored and everything was beeping.

I made a joke to the nurse about having a baby without ever having a contraction. She told me not to worry, that I had a contraction about five minutes ago. Whoa. Really? Yes, really. Oh, thats what that weird tug in my belly was. Her is another part of my conversation with her.
Me: Well, then, what is my blood pressure?
Her: You don't want to know
Me: Really, I do. Is it worse than when we were in the other room?
Her: Yes.
Me: Well, give me a range
Her: its 200/more than 100.
For those of you who don't know, that is closing in on severe hypertension. It wasn't good.

Then the anesthesiologist arrived. The nurse spouted off about me being lucky because this guy is the best in the hospital. The next time (if ever) I have to get an epidural and the nurse says something like that...I will be getting out of bed and unhooking myself from everything and just take my chances of having my baby in the parking lot thank you very much. The best in the hospital. Ok, well, it took him FIVE freaking tries to get my epidural going. FIVE. That is five times he tried to stick me in a very small place in my spine...nah, not scary at all. Oh, and it wasn't painful either. If you believe those last two sentences, then you need to be committed for a mental evaluation. After the third try, the nurse asked Ep if he was ok. He said yes. After the fourth try, he asked her to support me and he sat down in the floor. It was the first time I had ever seen my "pillar of strength husband who is rock solid in any emergency" get weak in the knees. I don't blame him one bit. He could see the pain on my face and hear it in the pure silence that surrounded me. I wasn't saying anything or making any noises. I think if the roles were reversed, I would have already knocked the doctor out and gave it a try myself. After the fourth try, Ep found his feet and was there to support me again. The doctor told us that if this try didn't work, then he was going to have to just put me under for the c-section. I knew that would mean that I would be out for a while and not have any memory of my baby being born or see him when he was just a few minutes old. I started praying hard. And the fifth try worked.

Next up was the ride to the delivery/operating room. They made Ep go to a special room while they prepped me in the operating room. He swears that he walked down the hall beside my rolling bed to the OR, but I have no memory of him being there. He says the wait in the special room was probably less than 15 minutes but that it felt like hours. I would like to stop right her and say that I don't think I was in the OR for a total of 15 minutes. I was, but it sure didn't seem like it. I wasn't in my right (or left) mind. I am pretty sure my mind had left the building. Next thing I know, Ep is sitting beside my head. I remember nearly crying when I realized they had let my special pillow (angel) come with me to the OR. I have had that pillow since I was 4 or 5 years old and it was made by my Mema. But then I had to move on to trying not to move my arms, which wouldn't stop shaking. I had on an oxygen mask and have no recollection of it being put on my face. I remember moving from my rolling bed to the operating room and then hearing the nurses count together about a zillion times. I STILL have no idea what the heck they were counting. I suppose it was the stuff they would be using during my c-section.

I remember laying there with my arms trembling, my husband telling me he loves me, being numb from my rib cage down and thinking how strangely odd it was that my insides were now laying on my outsides (research a c-section if you have questions) and that within moments our child would be born. I very distinctly remember the anestesiologist telling Ep to stand up and watch his son be born. And I can't think about that without crying. The tears flow now, as I type this. I had battled for that moment. I wanted Ep to be there when our child was born. I had told him it was ok not to look below my chin if he didn't want to, but that I needed him there...and this was all before we knew Kale would arrive in such a whirlwind of medical chaos. Yet, he stood up and watched our son leave my body and start screaming at the world he had just entered. I remember that moment between him standing up and Kale screaming. It lasted 3.73 million years. Ok, really, it was mere seconds, but it felt like eternity to me. I remember the relief that followed. Kale could scream and that meant he was breathing and that was a wonderful thing. Ep went to be with Kale as they started reversing all the fun processes of a c-section on my body. He took pictures of him and brought the pictures back to me. Then a nurse brought Kale to me and I whispered to him. She held him beside my head. I remember how red and angry he looked. Oh, I knew this was my child. We had awakened him out of his womb before he was ready to be awakened. Oh yes, soooo my child. Then Ep and Kale went to the NICU together.

They moved me back to the rolling bed and somewhere along the way they started an IV of magnesium sulfate, which I also refer to as the black hole medicine. Family came and went. Ep showed me more pictures of Kale until the nurse said to draw the shades, no tv, and no looking at pictures because any of those things could cause me to have a siezure. Turns out I was still in danger. Then she must have upped my dose because I don't remember much of the next 24 hours. At one point, I even inserted my brother into a memory of something that never even happened. My brother couldn't come see us because he was sick. He wasn't even there. Yeah, black hole medicine. I do remember getting mad at my parents because they had seen and touched my baby...and it wasn't that I didn't want them to do that...I was just upset that they were getting to do that and I wasn't. We could sit here and blame that on the medicine...but it was what it was....pure jealousy on my part. I am surprised that the nurse didn't notice the fact that I probably turned green with my envy.

At 6pm, they had a staff change and a new nurse was assigned to me. I was still in the labor section of the hospital because apparently you don't get to go to the postpartum area until you are no longer such a big risk. She entered the room and said "Hello Mrs Fletcher, my name is Queena and I am your nurse tonight. Have you seen your baby yet?" I told her briefly in the OR for a few seconds. She informed me that if I did well, that either I would be going to see Kale or he would be coming to see me. I was on board with that idea! I was asking for food that I wasn't supposed to have until 12 more hours, but she gave me a popsicle. She told me if I did well with that, then maybe we could move on to real food. It was one of those break the two pieces apart kind of popsicles. She gave me one piece and told me to go slow. It was gone in about 5 seconds. She laughed and told me to slow down and gave me the other half. I really tried to go slow. When I kept that down, I got to place a dinner order. Yea for Chik-fil-A! At that point, all I cared about was getting to see Kale. She could have asked me to stand on my head and walk on my hands down the hall and I would have tried to do it. Seems just being alert and coherent and able to keep my food down was enough though. I got to go see Kale.

The rest is his story. I suppose there is no real ending to my part and beginning of his...but the rest will come tomorrow.

Pumpkin Patch Collage

Pumpkin Patch

2009

(Our first pumpkin patch trip)

Highlights included:

Seeing pig races (Kale called the Hogs)

Kale chasing guinea fowl

Running wild through the pumpkins

Climbing the haybales to look at the slide (but not slide)

Eating the uncooked corn that was a decoration

Going on a family hay ride (and having the ride all to ourselves)

See Old McDonalds Farm and tracky's (tractors)

Kale not wanting near the chickens but deciding the goats were ok.

Kale pretty much refusing to work with me on the great photo opportunities!

The elusive Alma

Poor Kale. Alma keeps stealing his Mema.

Mema and Papaw came for a visit last Thursday. Kale proceeded to start running a fever seemingly as they arrived. I guess he wanted to be sure that he got to stay home from school with them on Friday? He glued himself to Mema. And I mean glued. I won't even try to lie about it...whooohoooo, we got two whole night of sleep without sharing the bed with a bucking rhinosaurus! Mema slept with the rhinosaurus! Mema for President!

On Saturday, Mema and Papaw had to head back to Alma. Kale wasn't so happy about it. Mema got tears in her eyes twice before she got into the truck.

Kale, without opening his eyes or moving, yelled out in the middel of Saturday night. He yelled "Alma". Yes, really. First thing Sunday morning, he wanted to know about Alma. He asked about Mema and Papaw and then Alma again.

We spent Sunday running errands and eating lunch before naptime. Kale asked about Alma again. After naps (we all took one), we went on an adventure. We tried out the pumpkin patch. We saw pig races, farm animals, pumpkins galore, and took a hay ride on a trailer pulled by a tracky (tractor). With all of that being new, what do you think Kale talked about last night? Oh yes, Alma. We had a great time at the pumpkin patch and Ep proved to be his father's son. Kale's favorite parts of the pumpkin patch involved the hay ride and then being able to just run free. He had the grand idea of climbing the hay bales so he could go down the curvy slide, but then chickened out when he realized he would have to slide by himself. I don't blame him. He did have fun romping on the hay bales and pretty much refusing every great photo opportunity that came along. We bought a medium size pumpkin and Kale got a free baby pumpkin.

Side note: I gave Kale a baby pumpkin last fall. That thing rolled all over the house and managed to last for months. It was apparently the baby pumpkin that wouldn't rot. I don't think his pumpkins are going to fare so well this year. Did you know pumpkins can fly? They can if you throw them. We have a pumpkin thrower. Its only a matter of time before we have a smashed pumpkin on the floor (and hopefully not on the wall or carpet).

Oh, and he woke up again this morning asking for Alma....

Two going on two months

There is about to be a change in our house. I am not sure what it will involved. However, the almost two year old is either going cold turkey on no bottles or going to continue to get a milk bottle at bed that will be followed with water only bottles. Or maybe a crazy mixture of both of those? I don't know. I just know that he can't have a new bottle of baberry milk every single time he wakes up at night.

My boss has a two month old...and he is waking up one time at night right now to eat. Last night, Kale received his bedtime bottle and two additional bottles in the night. He asked for a fourth and had a royal meltdown in our room, his room, and the hallway when I told him no. He literally tried to pull me out of bed.

I finally got him to get back into our bed. Don't start. I know. Yet another habit to break. Anyway, back into our bed and off to sleep...and then Ep starts snoring in Kale's face. Kale's reaction is to kick me in the back with every snore. Dude, I am sooo not the one making noise. Or at least I wasn't. Because after the seventeenth million kick, I told Ep to either roll over or quit snoring or something. I didn't use my "middle of the night voice" and this in turn woke up Kale. Who then asked again for baberry milk. I really deliberated taking a blanket and going out onto our deck to sleep. Kale then crawled on top of me. I was laying on my side. He just climbed on board. His head was on my head...his torso twisted around my body...and his feet, you guessed it, found their way to my back. I let him drift off this way and then quietly shifted him under the covers and kept him cuddled.

If I weren't so tired, I would be laughing....

Is it Thursday yet?

This morning, I thought I might lose it.

Kale didn't want to wear a diaper. He said pee pee. So we got the potty and he looked at it. Of course, his new to potty training mommy was hoping that we were starting a transition. Then he took off diaperless through the house. That kid is good.

His reluctance played out all the way through being wrestled into his diaper and school clothes. It then spilled right over into his refusal to take Benadryl for his ever runny nose. When he realized I was leaving and he didn't have his shoes, he freaked out a tad and I totally used that as his bribe. Take your medicine and mommy will put on your shoes. Ahhhh, his mouth opened and he took the medicine.

Somewhere in the middle of all of that....he stole my water bottle from my bedside table. I caught him before he unscrewed the cap. He was adamant about having a drink. I offered him a drink. Oh no, that was NOT good enough. He wanted to hold the water bottle while he took a drink. Gee, I wonder WHO gave him that trait? I knew where this was going. So, I guzzled the water until it was nearly gone. I gave him the bottle with just enough water to make him think he had just completely drowned himself. It worked. He was elated to have the bottle and immediately turned it upside down into his mouth. Then a geyser of water came flying back out of his mouth. He had been leaning against our bed. He ran towards the bathroom, water bottle still in hand, and was hollering in between his coughs. When I tried to take the now empty water bottle from him, OH MY WHAT A SIN I HAD JUST COMMITTED! No, I am not talking about letting my toddler think he had drowned himself. I am talking about taking the water bottle after he thought he had drowned himself. We worked our way past it.

We finally get out the door and to the car. Kale is buckled in. I am buckled in. We are ready to roll. There is only one problem. The truck won't start. Oh joy. So I do what any smart wife would do. I called my husband. He did what any smart husband would do. He told me he couldn't come rescue me and then told me how to rescue myself. After I lugged a 50 million pound extra battery up to my truck and got the jumper cables out, Kale locked himself in the garage. Oh wait, did I forget to tell you that he knows how to turn the deadbolt now? Well, there is your warning. Thankfully, my keys were outside with me or we would have had a new hole in our house...and that is when I called the neighbor to come stand with Kale while I attempted to jump start my truck.

Once the neighbor arrived, the kid who locked himself in the garage decided he needed to be outside with mommy instead because he might get left behind. Oh the screaming and crying. All while I am trying to make sure that I have properly connected the right things to the other right things. Here is where I will confess: I am scared of jump starting trucks. Until this point in life, I have managed to be a bystander when something had a dead battery. Today, I put on my big girl panties and faced my fear because we WERE going to be leaving the house. My only other option was to just stay home all day with Kale and I figured that would end with one of us duct taped to the wall (probably me with the rate he is going lately).

When the neighbor released Kale from the garage, he clung to me like static! Into his seat, into my seat, and off we went. Kale got dropped off at school, I got a new battery for my truck, and then I even went to Lowe's and told them what I thought about their insurance denying my claim. The manager on duty told me to get an estimate and we can hopefully move forward. I think it was the part I mentioned about not having asked them to replace my entire deck that got his attention. See, that makes replacing the removable carpet cargo liner seem kind of small, right?

I went to Walgreens and snagged some deals, including some medicine for Ep. Then I came to work. And that is where my day got boring so I will stop right there....

Looks of the future

I expect to see these looks many times in the future....

Also, note that his shirt says "Mr Mishief"

Being positive

I know that my last several posts have been lengthy and kind of a cross between griping, complaining, and wallowing in my misery of motherhood. So, its time for a different kind of post.

Let me just take this opportunity to tell you, God is good.

God is so good to allow me to watch as my son and husband roll around and play together in our living room.

God is so good to allow me the joy of teaching my son how to ride on my back and get to enjoy the non-stop giggle of him enjoying the ride.

God is sooooo good to supply us with the Old McDonald Farm song...for it has given me the chance to watch my son groove to his favorite song and clap along.

God is so good for bringing all things baberry (strawberry) into our lives. Thank you Lord for giving my son the ability to communicate with us and let us know he has a baberry addiction. Thank you Lord for allowing me to live in a country where I can go to the store and stroll the aisles looking at different juices and products that will make things baberry flavored. Thank you Lord for giving me a job that allows me to have the money to buy all the baberry flavored things my son now loves.

God is so good for giving me a husband who loves his wife, son, and family. Ep is a forgiving and understanding husband and God knew I would need both of those qualities in my husband in a big way! Ep has changed so much since I first met him 10 years ago and I am so proud of him for the man he has become without losing sight of the boy he always has been.

God is so good for opening doors that we have not yet even noticed needed to be opened.

And for some humor, God is sooooo good for brining my boss back to me from maternity leave! I no longer have to report to the Executive VP of our entire division. There should be two layers between me and that person, but with my boss out on maternity leave and her boss managing to get fired...well...suddenly I was reporting to our EVP.

God is so good for bringing change to us when life get monotonous...and even when the change seems scary and uncertain...He brings it just when we need it!
God is so good....God is so amazingly good.