Blizzardy

Last night's near blizzard got me thinking about the good ol days on Little House on the Prairie.

{and you might be thinking: this is the oddest sentence I've read on anyone's blog this month}

But as the wind and snow whipped by our house last night I thought several truly enlightening things.

1. I'm glad I don't live in a log cabin. I'm sure the insulation in those things were crap.

2. What was that teacher thinking in the episode where she sent the kids walking home in the blizzard and they all got lost. Not her best moment for sure. Good thing Mr. Edwards the mountain man was there to find them all before they froze to death.

3. That Nellie was a real spoiled witch of a girl.

Man I loved that show. Every morning, 7am at Grandma Sy's house. Curled up with some coffee milk (mostly warm milk and sugar with a dollop of coffee mixed in....mmm).

When I was small and we would go to our rustic cabin I used to pretend that I was Laura (because we all know everyone wanted to be Laura and not Mary). It all seemed so exciting and glamorous then. I think that's because Ma made it look easy; but what a pain in the backside not to have running water, electricity and indoor plumbing.

Man I take some things for granted.

And Now You Know

Do you have something that you haven't shared with many people? I do.
Here it is from the beginning.

When I found out last September that I was expecting again we were shocked, nervous & obviously excited. But there was something else. I was terrified. Terrified that something would happen to the baby, to me, to Chip, to the boys. You get the idea. Driving over the bridge I would always think "how will I get all of us out in time if we go over into the river?" It was pretty intense. And no one else seemed to share my feelings (I guess they didn't have crazy hormones coursing through their bodies/brains either). I started to feel a little crazy and so I just stopped telling anyone. Maybe it was because we already had 2 healthy babes. Who was I to ask for more?

And then we went for our 20 week ultrasound. I was convinced they would tell me I was having another boy. And I did not want to be disappointed over that. So I just kept telling myself, "as long as the baby is healthy it does not matter." And when the ultrasound tech told us just 5 minutes into it that we would indeed be having a girl, I almost died. So freaking ecstatic! And then I think I just sat there with this perma grin on my face for the next 45 minutes. Itching to get out of there and go buy something ridiculously frilly. For that 45 minutes I was in heaven, at peace, not thinking of any of the things that could be wrong or that I had obsessed over for the earlier 20 weeks.

While we waited for the Dr. to come in and chat with us, we laughed and talked and dreamed.

But when he came in he was all business. He wanted to show us a spot on the scans near her heart that could be an indicator for Downs. He didn't want me to worry, but could you please go downstairs and give blood so we can test for yada, yada, yada. The test should be back in a few days, in the meantime, don't give it another thought, this is just a precaution. Chip seemed to accept this. I on the other hand did not.

They drew my blood. We got in the car. And I lost it. Lost it. Chip tried to console me, but there is just no way he could understand what I was feeling. I had known there was something wrong. Everybody just poo-pooed it away. But I had known!

People started calling/texting. All wanting to know the sex of the baby. I made Chip talk to all of them. I should have been texting every single last person I knew, screaming it from the roof tops "I got my girl!" But I was trapped in a fog of confusion, worry & self-centeredness. We decided not to tell anyone until the test came back (except for a few family members and very dear friends). No need to worry everyone.

I did not go out that very day and buy her the sweet dress I had dreamed of. I played the "life is changed forever game" for the next 5 days. No prom, no wedding, no regular girl stuff. That was just the surface of my worries. Self-pity, what about our plans for when the kids were raised and gone? Self-doubt, how could I handle this, a child with severe disabilities, sometimes I could barely handle the two completely healthy quote un-quote "normal" children I had already. What about life expectancy, my deepest fear come to be; one of my sweet babies leaving this earth before me. Gut wrenching.

It was like I was living a lie. I felt like I might burst and spew all of these things on the next person who called to say "Congrats, I heard it was a girl."

And when 'the day' arrived. And I heard the phone ring. And finally it was the doctor's office on my caller-ID, I curled up in a little ball on the floor to listen to the news that I was convinced would change my life forever.

"Mrs. Elfering, your test came back negative, there is nothing to be concerned about."

And I sobbed. But I couldn't let it go. The feelings I had all along. They stayed with me for the duration of my pregnancy. Nagged at me for 20 long weeks. Robbing me of the absolute crazy amazing joy I should have been feeling. An always present whisper that said "something is still wrong." It took me weeks until I made my first baby purchase.

We were scheduled to be induced on April 27th. But after 15 long hours of labor, I just would not progress past a 7. Some where around hour 8 my mind started going crazy. Something was wrong. Ultrasound showed baby was transverse, we would need a C-section. And you know most of the rest if you read this post and this post. What you didn't know was that when she came out and she wasn't breathing, the one coherent thought I made and can actually remember was "I was so worried about her not being perfect and now she is dead."

But she wasn't. And when I woke up out of my induced haze, I think I still expected to find a little girl with almond shaped eyes and a flat nose starting back at me. But I didn't. She is as close to perfect as they come. You know what though, even if I had woken up to a little girl with Down's, I hoped I would have thought that she was perfect too.

So when I stumbled upon this blog last month, it squeezed something in my heart and shook something in my soul. Read Nella's birth story here. I can't get enough of her blog, her pictures, her outlook on life. I wait patiently for more sweet pictures of the smiley girl with the squinty eyes. I can't help but think that could have been us. I hope I could have still been a good mom even in a difficult situation.

How silly of me to wait for so long to buy my baby her first pretty dress. What exactly did I think she would wear? Can only perfect babies wear pretty dresses? How naive I was. How ashamed I am for the things I thought. But you see? No one is perfect. Not me, not even my Miss Kearyn. We all have room for improvement. This will grow me and teach me. It will make me a better mother, a more compassionate human being. It already has.

And here's the thing. I thought I knew. And again I am humbled. Because I realize again, what I should have known all along. Only He knows.

Is this Genius--or have I just been living under a rock?

Check out this fold down desk available at Amazon!

I'm already thinking of a gazillion uses for it.

Kid desk (in either room or playroom--you could even do two side by side)

Sewing table

in a Laundry room for folding clothes (if I had a big enough laundry room for that)

Crafts

Wrapping Christmas presents

in a corner of your kitchen at kid height (almost like a kid bar--but with mocktails ;)

The possibilities are endless...

It's a Wrap

Well we lost our Regional playoff game on Saturday. So soccer season has come to an end. Always bittersweet for me. Hard to lose, hard to think of all the "what ifs," hard to have the craziness of 20+ high school gals cut from my everyday happenings (some easier than others mind you).

But I am so looking forward to getting back into my regular (albeit wild) family first groove. Where Drayson doesn't have to get woken up from nap time early so that we can make a fast dash down to swoop in and pluck Caleb up from school (when all he really wants to do is ride the bus home with his friends), drop them with quick kisses at whomever is watching them that day (insert shout-out here to my mama, sis & Aunt Naomi). No more rushed dinners, or missing out on watching Caleb play hockey, or staying up past my bedtime so Chip and I can actually share 2 minutes of the day with each other.

Looking at the pros vs. cons you may wonder why I even choose to do it. And I'll admit sometimes I wonder the same things. Some days just plain feel 'not worth it.' But I once heard you aren't supposed to quit on a bad day. One of the main reasons is that although we won a State Championship when I played high school soccer, the day to day memories of my high school days were not the greatest. Let's just say Coach applied the negativity with a heavy hand. I would always say to myself that if I got the chance I would do things differently. Don't get me wrong, I believe kids need to learn hard work, responsibility and of course be held to their highest potential. I also believe that kids learn better when they respect their elders and do not just fear them. That there needs to be fun mixed in with the work. Think if you just slaved away at your awful job for your entire life and never got a vacation (even a small one). Sounds pretty brutal to me. Besides that, I enjoy spending time with the girls and hoping that I am having some sort of positive impact on their lives. And I am learning--Lord, am I learning. And learning and growing and being stretched is good for me (even when it feels bad). The little bit of money doesn't hurt either (because well all know teachers don't rake it in). The money Chip and I both earn from coaching during the year is our 'extra money.' Which means that we don't need it to cover our daily bills, but it goes to things like vacations and Christmas and big ticket items, etc.

But I am more happy than sad right now. Excited for the extra time we have for the next couple months before spring season hits and boy's soccer season gets here and I become a "soccer widow." And this weekend also happened to be Chip's final 'long' weekend before he completes his Master's program. He only has a single Friday & Saturday left. And then a couple weekends in the spring to complete his Admin certificate. We are so excited and I am so proud of the hard work he has put in. Those long weekends (all night Friday and all day Saturday & Sunday) were terrible on all of us.

Looking forward to getting started on my Christmas planning/shopping/crafting (possibly finish some of my half completed projects). Getting my hair cut and colored (way way overdue...like the perma-pony is the only look I've been sporting for weeks now).

And what you ask, did Drayson do to commemorate the occasion? Well he had explosive diarrhea all day yesterday (remember that he has only been potty-trained for 2 weeks so that was fun). Kearyn pooped basically every diaper. I ran to the store to stock up on 'sick' reserves, extra Desitin, and prayed my heart out that no one else would fall victim. I tried to push away the nightmares of all 5 us being up all night long with "the nasty," as I ferociously cleaned and did laundry and put the house back in order last night. And it looks like my prayers were answered, because at no point in the night was I awoken by either of the small ones smeared in poop. Sometimes I think it's better to expect the worse, because then it's easier to enjoy the small victories (kind of like when I get in line at Costco and do mental math and always round-up in my head, so that when the checker gives me the real total I feel like I saved money instead of spent a small fortune).

I think it sounds like a perfect day to stay snuggled up in our comfys. And if I get really inspired I may just whip out the hot glue gun and the fabric scrap bag and see what I come up with.