Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child

I've made a move...

2009-12-07T13:21:00.001-07:00

I won't be blogging here anymore.

You can find me (and all of this blog too) at http://ramblinred.wordpress.com. Please update your blogrolls accordingly.

Peace!

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Been a Little While...

2009-12-04T14:33:00.002-07:00

[taps] Is this thing on?

So, yeah, it's been a loooooooooong time since I sat down and pounded a keyboard.

Why so long?

Maybe because everything in the world has been on my shoulders and because I've been living the life of an ostrich (i.e. my head has been covered by sand, into which said head was thrust in hopes of acquiring the bliss said to be brought with ignorance)?

Maybe because everything is both so very right and yet so very wrong at the same time?

Maybe because I'm not at all anonymous in my blogging anymore, as my blog, due to a thoughtless click of a button, is now shared with all facebook friends, read: IRL people who KNOW me, or at least KNEW me at some point in time and not the random strangers or friends that the internet has offered me over the years. Funny, I used to think that I had carte blanche to say whatever I wanted when I was pseudo-anonymous (total anonymity is a farce, right?), but now I find myself censoring, wondering "What would that person think of me if I used PG-13 language," or "Would this hurt so-and-so's feelings?" or "Could this potentially be misinterpreted and held against me?"

I've been sick lately, so running has been out (and even if not sick, this week's arctic temps have kept me confined as I have a running partner who really needn't be exposed to brrr-freaking-cold air for the heck of it). Running has sort of taken the place of blogging as my sounding-off, head-clearing activity. Sort of. In that usually when I'm sounding off while running it is a sort of dialog between me and God. Not always verbalized, but a consciousness of themes and events in life that seems to make its way to Him in a Romans 8:26 fashion.

Money sucks. I hate this necessary evil with every fiber of my being. Yes, we are struggling. Yes, we have made dumb mistakes, repetitively even. Yes, some of the burdens were beyond our control, but no, we have not made the sacrifices we probably needed to to make ends meet. Relatively speaking, we are probably better off than many Americans, but personally, I hate this place we are in. I vacillate between thinking that I ought to go back to work and realizing that even if I could find something right now it probably would only cover childcare and possibly insurance. In other words, me working is not the magic cure-all.

Lil Guy is growing faster than I'd like. He's sitting up and starting to army crawl quite frequently now. He's my joy-bringer, that one. His smile, often accompanied by this one raised eyebrow thing that he does that implies a deeper understanding of the circumstance at hand than that possible of an infant, melts so much of the gray of life away that I wish I could just bottle it up for those all-too-frequent mentally rainy days.

Well, Lil Guy is awakened, so this is it for now.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

I made the top 500!

2009-10-15T12:19:00.004-06:00

So, Saturday was my first 5k. Not my first 5k since being sick, but my first 5k. As in Ever. And yes, it was brrrisk out. Snowing and all of 17 degrees.

I am NOT a fast runner. I mean truth be told, some power walkers might outpace my "jog," but hey, it's my heart and it feels so much better to me when I jog versus walking.

I told everyone that if I finished in 45 minutes I'd be happy. My goal was to finish the whole thing running (no run/walk for this girl, thank you!), not a set time.

Well, how about finishing, running the whole way, in 43 minutes 10 seconds? (Yes, all you who follow on facebook that is a difference - there was a glitch in the official times on race day, apparently this is the real time - even faster than I'd thought!) Suh-weet! And, I finished 494th out of 1,000 runners, so I made the top half! And now I have me a really cool t-shirt too.

My friends above are all from church - the 5k was for CSU's homecoming and we'd planned on running with some of the folks from our campus ministry; however, only one of the students actually showed. Anyway, the gal on the far left is my age and the HS cross-country coach I ran with the week before the race. She and the guy next to last in the pic came back for me after they'd finished. They found me at about the 2 1/2 - 2 3/4 mile mark and ran the rest of the way with me - encouraging me and not only cheering me on, but engaging the spectators to cheer me on too! They're totally awesome like that. And in much better shape, I might add.

Thanks be to God for His healing in my body - this never would have been possible without Him.

I can do all things through Christ, because he gives me strength.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

These Vignettes Brought to You by Testosterone!

2009-10-09T15:23:00.003-06:00

Yesterday morning in the kitchen as we are doing the morning rush:

Punkinhead - Hey, LMNOB do you have Oprah today?

LMNOB and me - Huh?????

LMNOB - You mean that black lady on the TV?

Punkinhead, exasperated - No! I mee-ean that singing thing you do!

:cue lightbulb: Oprah = Opera in his little boy mind! Aha!

LMNOB, all self-righteous: It's CHOIR, Punkinhead, not OPERA! And yes, I do have choir after school today.

Well, then!

***********************
My bedroom, the other night as Charlie Brown and I are settling in for the night.

Charlie Brown: Dang, woman! You are getting skinny on me.

Me (stupidly doing that female thing where I protest at a compliment): I'd hardly call myself skinny.

Charlie Brown: Better than a TURD like me.

Me: Charlie Brown! Why are you saying that, you don't let me get away with putting myself down, so knock it off!

Charlie Brown: You misunderstand, my dear. TURD....Totally Un-Resistable Dude.

Me: Bwahahahaha.....You're, muahaha, too much! Oh, my heck, my sides hurt. Besides, isn't the proper term irresistable?

Charlie Brown: There you go, putting me down again.

Oh brother.......

Men!

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Running High

2009-10-05T10:09:00.002-06:00

So, I didn't run after last Monday until Saturday. Yeah, 'cause I'm all about regularity and routine, eh?

Saturday, I ran with LMNOB while she was pushing Lil Guy in the stroller. LMNOB did not last long with running and so she walked while I would run ahead and run back to her. I did that for 23 minutes, which was a new record in recent history!

Yesterday, I went with a friend from church, who is a high school cross country coach (read: in much better shape, faster, smaller, etc. etc. than me) to the university track and ran a bit with her. I ran a 1000 meter with her (totally kicked my butt!) and then did 5 laps that alternated between running and walking. I was kind of perturbed at myself and my lack of endurance to just run straight like I had on Saturday, but gave myself some slack in the end and was just glad that I got out and did something.

Now...ya'll might be wondering what is my obsession with running.... While I was so sick I told God in a prayer that I wanted to get better, that I wanted my body to reflect His glory and healing powers. So what better than to take a person who virtually had no lung capacity and make them run mere months after such an ordeal? Not only that, but 5 years ago, I began running and it was such a thing of spiritual growth for me. Can't really explain it, but running and praying to God cast a new light on what relying on Him truly meant. After that initial year of running, I began to trickle out of it and would run only sporadically. My spiritual life kind of went through the same spurts and stagnants cycle as my running. And after being so ill and seeing my mortality with such clarity, let's just say that I don't want to become stagnant in my faith again.

So there's a 5k this Saturday....and I'm registered for it. So I've been getting even more serious about running as I need to train.

My goal was to run every day this week.

This morning it was gray and drizzly.

No matter, I'll get a hat and wear a jacket. I'll bundle the baby up good and warm.

And so I did. Got the older two off to the bus stop and set about my way at 8:20 this morning.

I walked for 6 minutes to warm up then started jogging and ran about a mile in 12 minutes. That's about right for me. Stopped to cross the street and continued to walk for about 4 minutes. Then I started running again, but only lasted for 4 minutes. 4 minutes, what the heck?! And I began to think of the cross, and everything that Jesus had to endure in his last hours on earth. Surely I could do better than 4 minutes. I walked for 5 minutes, visualizing the cross the whole time. Then I started to run again.....6 minutes this time, but to be fair it was all uphill! I walked for several more minutes again noting that I would run on the walking trail when I got to it. I got to it and ran, and finally it clicked. Another mile + down in 13 minutes. I thanked God and looked up. The giant clouds that had been raining over me had split and suddenly half the sky was blue and clear. A nice "thumbs up" from God, it seemed, and my heart soared with gratitude for the affirmation.

I will finish that 5k on Saturday. With God's help and example, I will persevere.

Acts 20:24 - However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace.

Now, if you'll excuse me - I really need a shower.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Whispers of Reinforcement

2009-09-28T09:35:00.005-06:00

This morning, after a brief sensory meltdown (initially she was cold, legitimately as Charlie Brown left the downstairs windows open last night, and from there it spiraled as she couldn't have the juice she wanted in her lunch....seriously?!?) made us late for the bus and I'd subsequently dropped the kiddos off at school, I ventured out for a run.

A run. As in that thing I haven't done most of September due to a cold that hit me particularly hard after Labor Day. As in that activity that helped me drop 7 lbs in 2 weeks while changing nary a thing in my diet (which is already pretty healthful as I'm feeding me and Lil Guy but there are the occasional transgressions ;)).

And as I did so, I was struck. Not by lightning. Not by some giant epiphany. I was love-struck. Not by my love for someone/thing, but rather I found myself face to face with the Love that my God lavishes upon each one of us. I smiled as I saw the autumn sunlight casting beams off the trees and landmarks, just like He knows I love so much. As the cloudless sky, so pristine and crisply blue, seemed to purify the air simply by being, I found the strides, the breaths effortless and exhilarating at the same time. Just 4 months ago I was being released from the hospital and could barely walk up my stairs to go to the bathroom - and here I am running with a healthy body. Praise God! He has been so good to me and my family!

I reflected on yesterday's bible class. This quarter we are studying the emotions of the Psalms, and for the past two weeks we've been focused on joy/praise as is found in Psalm 8. Despite Psalm 8 being more apropos for a starry evening, the words fit the moment this morning:

¹ O Lord, our Lord, your majestic name fills the earth!
Your glory is higher than the heavens.
² You have taught children and infants
to tell of your strength,
silencing your enemies
and all who oppose you. ³ When I look at the night sky and see the work of your fingers—
the moon and the stars you set in place—
⁴ what are mere mortals that you should think about them,
human beings that you should care for them?
⁵ Yet you made them only a little lower than God
and crowned them with glory and honor....

Indeed, when I think of ALL that God created and how small mankind is, relative to the planet, let alone the whole universe, and further how small I am in the grand scheme of things, I wonder how it is that I am so important to him that he is so intimately involved in my life - and those of others too?

And lately it seems to me that I can see God reinforcing this idea of his intimate knowledge of my heart everywhere I turn. Largely, where I turn in the Word.

Certain Scriptures keep getting cross-referenced in my path, reinforcing their truths upon my heart. I know better than to believe that these are coincidences, and know that God is working to let me know that He cares for me and wants me to rest in the promises of these passages that keep popping up.

The preacher's sermons seem to be tailor made each week for what I am facing personally.

This morning, as I was reflecting on the Psalms class, I noted that the first emotion we're looking at being joy/praise was just the jolt that I needed out of my recent depression. I mean, certainly there are Psalms where David was depressed and fearful - and those have comforted me in times of trials past - but it's no small thing.

Today is good. God's mercies are new every morning. I will rejoice and be glad in this day that the Lord has made.

Finding the Right Words

2009-09-17T09:53:00.002-06:00

I just want to be understood.

This lifelong desire stems from so many different experiences I've had in life.

As a child, I was often told that my feelings were wrong. Unfortunately, as a child I didn't realize that feelings are not like facts and thus not so easily relegated into the right or wrong categories.

Then, there were all those times when I couldn't skillfully articulate just what was on my heart and used a word or two that completely changed the message I was trying to convey. I'm grateful that God gives us the Holy Spirit to correct this in our prayers to Him and that He knows EXACTLY what it is that I'm trying to spit out, but it doesn't always work that way when conversing with other humans.

I hate being perceived as something so contrary to that which I wish to be about. For example, I recently was told that someone close to me felt like I looked down on them because they didn't hold a degree, that this person thought I treated them as dumb and ignorant. It hurt me deeply to hear this - partly because that is so disparate from my values system, which is that we ALL have something to bring to the table of life regardless of our socioeconomic status, education (or lack thereof), religion, race, etc., but mostly because in this misunderstanding, another person was caused pain. I'm a lover not a fighter, and to cause others pain, however unintentionally, always grieves my soul.

Sometimes, this desire to be understood, and thus accepted by others and loved, manifests in a tendency to overshare. Sometimes I don't understand myself and share for the purpose of having another person weigh in. Related to my childhood admonitions that my feelings were so far off base, sometimes I share as a means of checking my reality.

But a sense of cautiousness has grown over the years. As I've tried to make sense of things on my blog these past few years my sharing has hurt those who are close to me. Unfortunately, as much as I've claimed it's about me and not them it hasn't helped.

So, I have been in a quandary lately about what to share, what not to share, and everything in between. The things that are big in my life right now, and likely to be written about, are probably not best to be shared on a blog as they concern my close relationships - and I'm trying to deal with that privately and avoid dishonoring someone I love by oversharing.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Super Bawl Sunday

2009-08-31T19:13:00.000-06:00

So, it's been 2 weeks since this happened - finally time to sit and write about it, eh? Also; any mention of voices in my head is regarding that inner turmoil that we ALL have in our thoughts - no auditory hallucinations for this girl, thank you for your concern.

Two weeks ago, we had just returned home from our short-lived camping trip. Both Charlie Brown and I briefly entertained the thought of not going to church in the morning, since we were supposed to be gone afterall. We decided that was just silly and ended up going.

Sidenote- in the weeks preceding this I'd been having lots of doubts about life. Doubts about our financial security, my mental health status, and the joint decision for me to stay at home among many other things. In chatting with girlfriends about these doubts, a few of them had suggested I maybe look for a PT job to help me regain some of my self-confidence as well as make a little extra cash for those daunting medical bills. And the juxtaposition of all the voices of these doubts with the tidbits of "helpful" advice was driving me to the edge.

Ok....so, back to church.

Our Sunday morning bible study this summer has been on Romans. The text for the day was Romans Ch. 8. As the teacher droned on about how an abstract was different from a book review (re: a handout that he'd thought was helpful to the study), Li'l Guy began to fuss and alert me to his growing hunger. So I took him into the "cry room" (a little private area for nursing moms) and fed him. While doing so, I halfheartedly listened to the teacher on the speaker. As the abstract v. book review discussion went longer, I grabbed my Blackberry out of the diaper bag and pulled up Romans 8 using the Youversion app (which I totally ♥ btw).

I read the whole chapter, the words not unfamiliar to me as Romans is probably the book I've read most in Scripture during my walk with the Lord; but towards the end my face grew hot and moist as the tears came down, for I read:

26 And the Holy Spirit helps us in our weakness. For example, we don’t know what God wants us to pray for. But the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words. 27 And the Father who knows all hearts knows what the Spirit is saying, for the Spirit pleads for us believers[b] in harmony with God’s own will. 28 And we know that God causes everything to work together[c] for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them...

...35 Can anything ever separate us from Christ’s love? Does it mean he no longer loves us if we have trouble or calamity, or are persecuted, or hungry, or destitute, or in danger, or threatened with death? 36 (As the Scriptures say, “For your sake we are killed every day; we are being slaughtered like sheep.”[d]) 37 No, despite all these things, overwhelming victory is ours through Christ, who loved us.
38 And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[e] neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love.

I'd been feeling guilt about my silence in the dialogue between me and my God lately. Even knowing full well that this promise of an intercessor exists for those times when life gets so overwhelming, so full of other voices that I cannot find my own, beyond the simple gut-wrenching utterances of "Lord, please help me," despite knowing that, I was in a place where Guilt had begun to plague me, adding just one more voice in the cacophony that my mind had recently become. So irrational was this Guilt, bothering me over things of which I had no control - namely my getting sick. Yes, I know, like I could have prevented such an anomaly; the doctors still aren't quite sure how I came to be so ill.

Through this passage, God assured me. The Voice of Truth stilled the others and spoke, in solo: You are still my child, sweet girl. I have not abandoned you and I know you are overwhelmed right now. My Spirit is translating the woes on your heart and I am listening. NOTHING can ever change that. Keep going.

I was so thankful that I was physically alone, just my baby and I, in that room because I wept freely at the reassurance the moment had afforded me.

Later, the preacher's sermon (link opens an MP3 recording of the sermon if interested) was on Luke 5:1-11. Specifically, he focused in on how the men, professional fishers of their day, had fished ALL night and not caught anything yet Jesus told them to go out and launch their nets one more time. They did and the blessings (fish) were more than abundant, they almost sunk their boats! Perseverance, especially when all looks bleak, pays off, was the message in a nutshell.

Keep going.

The words, coupled with my moment in the cry room, were just what I needed to hear. Tears streamed down my face long before the conclusion of the sermon, as the realization hit me that it was no mere coincidence that our camping trip had gone south and caused us to return home early. How amazing is this Love that notes every detail of my life along with those of every other living being?

I knew I had to go forward at the invitation, to ask for the prayers of my family. But what most people didn't realize is that it wasn't a feeling of hopelessness that drove me to asking for help - rather, the hope and reassurance that God had given me that morning made me want to publicly recognize my need for Him in my life. We have been so blessed over the past several months with my rapid recovery, the help and support we received, and through things not yet revealed. Several people mistook my emotion as a cry for more help - but as I talked with them I assured them it was just a realization that I needed to keep going.

And how much good it does me to know that as a direct result another young mom shared her struggles with me that night. And then another. When a dear older sister e-mailed me the next day to see how I was doing, she mentioned "mom coaching," so I called her and asked if she would meet with some of us to pray and talk some things through. Not only would she, but she and a couple other more experienced sisters had been praying for such an opportunity in the spirit of this Scriptural example. Not because of me, but because of God.

Keep Going.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Fragmented Snippets and Linky Love

2009-08-28T09:43:00.000-06:00

Oh my....

So I have a post in my drafts folder , one of many right now, that I'm working on. It's titled Super Bawl Sunday (watch for it soon) as it is about how God totally met me where I was a couple of weeks ago, and it is crystal clear that He arranged a couple of "coincidences," for this little meeting to occur. Said meeting of me and my God caused a bit of a breakdown in an "I can't do this [on my own]" fashion. Said breakdown inspired other people in my life to share their struggles....and now I'm heading up the organization of a ladies prayer/mentoring group at my church right now. Amazing how God uses people to facilitate events that have a greater purpose than originally imagined.

My good friend Jen/Huckdoll recently re-entered SAHMhood also and has a post up that pretty much describes my blogging state too.

On Monday, I saw my lady doc to get some "hardware installed." Apparently so did Amanda at The Mom Job....her rendition suffices for now, LOL.

I got a new haircut - rather, it's not a new style for me but it's been awhile since I've sported this particular cut, almost a year - on Wednesday. My hairdresser said when it was done, "I like you so much better with short hair. I concur, even if Charlie Brown called me "butch." Oh, yeah....he did.

Been running/walking everyday for a week now. 50 minutes of activity minimum. Feeling increasingly good with this.

Hoping that all of the above might rekindle some of the fire between Charlie Brown and I. Things are a little quiet on that front right now and I am getting cranky about it.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Dear Hanes,

2009-08-27T12:21:00.003-06:00

Yes, you Hanes, the underwear, socks and T-shirt company.

Ok, good - I and all of my 20 readers have your attention with that clarification.

So, uh, yeah....your new "wedgie free" undies? Let's talk 'bout that.

They feel great upon slipping them on.

They even stay put, as promised.

Er, sort of.

On a low-moderate activity, kickin' it at the house kind of day - A+.

While working out, when being wedgie free is an absolute must lest we get our lady parts all mixed up with sweat from other parts and other nastiness, ahem, Not. So. Much.

Might I suggest that you invest in Goody stay put headbands technology for your leg holes?

Seems like that might actually work.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Forget Fragmented Friday, How 'Bout Fragmented Life?

2009-08-21T15:18:00.002-06:00

So, new drill here, remember? Yeah, I'm doing Mrs. 4444's Friday Fragments thing. Click thru the links for more info.

***In reference to the title above, I feel fragmented and chaotic in my mind. I have started to write several times in my head but get interrupted or never have the time to finish the thought itself, let alone being able to process it by writing/talking about it.

***Li'l Guy covered some serious ground today by pseudo crawling (rather like an inchworm, he has yet to coordinate his arms). The dude is not even officially 4 mos old yet (Tuesday), and we are dealing with crawling???? Oy vey!

*** LMNOB and Punkinhead started school Weds. and I have still not posted pics. slacker! LMNOB seems to really like her teacher who is a rather hip young thing. This is good as LMNOB is excited for the year and has not been anxious and fit-throwing. Punkinhead, on the other hand, is not quite as enthused with first grade. Seems kindergarten was Much Better in his mind.

***I have been living a luke-warm life when it comes to my faith over the past several years. I'm trying to heat things up which means some serious Growing Pains. Charlie Brown has been experiencing the same thing over the past year and this is good, but can be quite exhausting seeing all the errors of your ways in a relatively short period of time. Dying to one's ego and living for Christ is no small task....truely no one ever conquers it on earth, but we still push forward, eh?

***I have exercised 3 mornings in a row now, with some good running even! I am determined to show how God has worked in my body - from being on death's doorstep 3 1/2 mos ago and unable to inhale more than 500 mL at a time (normal lung capacity is about 4+ times that) to being able to run is quite something!

***Well, bus is almost here and baby is crying.....

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

A Day Late and Several Dollars Short

2009-08-15T20:05:00.006-06:00

So, all the cool kids do it....I figured I probably would too...if I can promise to get on regularly enough to participate in Mrs. 4444's Friday Fragments.

So.... let's go.

**** Li'l Guy started rolling over last Saturday, at 3 1/2 mos. Since he's begun to roll, he now fancies a life of mobility and has been spotted getting on all fours and pushing with his legs - and has started making headway. He has yet to coordinate his arms, however, and I'm hoping full-fledged crawling will be at least another month away. Can you imagine?!?

**** I have yet to write up Li'l Guy's birth story and he is as mentioned above, pushing 4 months old. For shame.

**** I have been in a weird funk of late. It could be that I'm looking down the barrel of post-partum depression. Or dealing with a form of post-traumatic stress disorder on the heels of nearly dying. Or, switching to a different tense of conditions, it could be pre-menstrual syndrome. Good ole PMS. Wait, Heather, aren't you exclusively breastfeeding? I mean what with the whole 'I nursed Li'l Guy come hell or highwater' attitude while you were in the hospital - you are still nursing right? Ahh, yes, I am. And yet, I had not one, but two periods in July, 21 days apart. My OB/GYN had the nerve to call me "one of those lucky women," and I had the nerve not to slap her across the face. So, going off my mental state, I am right on schedule for another dousing of estrogen and such. Add to it just some general senses of failures as a Christian mother, and well... you know, a lot on my plate right now.

**** The older kids start school on Wednesday. I am both elated and yet oddly enough, given my complaints about the stresses of dealing with 2 school-aged siblings over the summer, saddened by this. On the one hand, ROUTINE!! On the other, well, uh, ROUTINE!!

**** In effort to do just one thing that we'd originally planned to do this summer, before I got sick, we went camping this weekend. 'Cept that we only ended up staying for just over 24 hours due to weather. Tent camping with 3 kiddos, one of whom is under 4 months, kind of requires perfect weather. And we got torrential rains with gusty winds last night/this morning. Our gear kept us warm and dry; however, being forced into the tent at 7:45 last night kind of pre-empted LMNOB's nighttime pee before bed. And despite her gear keeping her warm and dry, she herself did not. Yeeeeeah. She was a good sport about it, as were we - I mean, it was completely cruel of nature to expect her super teensy bladder to make it 10 hours without release - but her warm nighttime clothes were not re-wearable despite the fact that her bag (actually MY mummy bag) was virtually un-touched by her leakage. So, yeah, we packed up and we are now home sweet home.

**** As mentioned in the title, we are still reeling from sticker shock of my medical bills. Much tighter budget than we are used to, sometimes to the point of blind faith - thankfully God has always provided an AFLAC check, a love offering from church, or a side job for Charlie Brown at just the right times. God is so good to us, and yet I struggle with worrying still. I am learning, slowly, that Jesus meant what He said in Matthew 6:25-34. I should know this inside and out after the big crisis this summer, but unfortunately I am very much like the Israelites, who after seeing and walking through a parted Red Sea, who were fed DAILY with manna and quail (BTW...could you GET any more organic than sustenance from HEAVEN and an un-chemical-ed earth? How many of us would LOVE that now?!?!) and basically had every need met still worried and grumbled about the hard things they were going through. So....still learning. Still growing. Still a work in progress.

Doll Gets Fox News Health Team up in Arms

2009-08-08T09:32:00.002-06:00

First of all, folks, it is a DOLL. A doll makes the news these days?

Oh it does if it is a breastfeeding doll, that apparently is the equivalent of:

"introducing sex education in first grade instead of seventh or eighth grade"

I have so many problems with this statement, let alone the more asinine claims by FOX News' Managing Health editor that a DOLL could possibly promote earlier pregnancies, or better yet, traumatize young girls.

First of all, breastfeeding is more about human nutrition than it is about human sexuality - but once again a man, a man with a conservative bias being that he works for FOX News, makes the topic all about sex. Sorry, Dr. Alvarez but you are part of the problem. So much work has been made to de-stigmatize breastfeeding, in public or otherwise, and you immediately play upon the fears of your conservative audience by saying essentially that anything breast-related = sexual promiscuity.

Second, any mother who has ever breastfed a baby with an older sibling has probably already seen their older child "nurse" their dolls. I have. It's not a new concept, you know, that children model their parents' behavior. I've even seen friends' older sons nurse a baby doll when their mothers have a nursing baby in the household. Does that mean they are going to be confused about their anatomy growing up? No, it's called imaginative play - something we seem to have forgotten about in this hysteria.

Third, unless I missed something, no one said ANYthing about this doll being used for educational purposes in a school setting, so how is it like introducing sex ed to a first grader? Moreover, why wouldn't you introduce some age appropriate sex education to your children at that age, or even earlier for that matter? I am not promoting a public-school campaign at that age, at all. Despite being conservative re: sexuality, I'm not a fan of school-based abstinence only programs as

...scientifically sound studies of abstinence only programs show an unintended consequence of unprotected sex at first intercourse and during later sexual activity. In this way, abstinence only programs increase the risk of these adolescents for pregnancy and sexually transmitted illnesses, including HIV/AIDS.

No, as a Christian believer I feel that it is *my* duty to educate my children about sex in an age-appropriate, biblical, and open fashion. It starts early, too, because if we don't establish an open conversation about sexual topics when they aren't embarrassed, what guarantee do we have that they'll approach us with their questions during the height of self-consciousness and doubt of parental authority? We've already read the first two books in the Story of Me series with LMNOB and Punkinhead, and they're not "traumatized." Nor are they displaying signs of wanting to run out and have sex/a baby at the first chance they can get.

But I digress....back to the breastfeeding babydoll. For me, the only thing I take issue with the manufacturer is the name. Bebe Gluton = Gluttonous Baby. WTH? Kind of a mixed message as breastfed babies tend to be smaller, and more self-regulating with regard to feeding only when hungry, than their formula-fed peers - but whatever, right?

And back to FOX News' article....the fact that they cite Eric Ruhalter's lame attempt at humor, equating a breastfeeding babydoll to something as inappropriate as babydolls dealing with alcoholism and/or incarceration, shows me that they are simply perpetuating the sexualization of breasts and stigmatizing any functional, natural usage of them, real or imagined.

It just drives me bonkers - this one or the other classification of breasts. They are functional, life sustaining, beautiful and sexual. As God created them to be.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

They Didn't Teach THIS in Anatomy Class!

2009-08-07T08:50:00.007-06:00

Several years ago when Punkinhead was 18 mos or so, he started staying dry overnight. As I'd go to change his diaper every morning during this time, I would find two things:

1.) a dry diaper; and

2.) his little "soldier" standing at attention

It kind of creeped me out - me thinking it was some kind of weird Freudian mother-son thing going on. But later upon recounting this to Charlie Brown, he told me, "He's got morning wood because his bladder's full, duh." I HAD NO IDEA that male plumbing worked that way!!! But, ahh, that made a lot of sense, thinking back on patterns in our own bedroom. Hmmm...

Fast forward 4 1/2 years.....

The other morning Punkinhead came down the stairs FREAKING out about having an erection.

"Mama!! My weiner," and let me just interject here that I insist on the appropriate anatomical terms in our house, but Daddy tends toward the more slangy terminology, "my weiner, it's all big and going places that I don't want it to - it's going up instead of down!"

Then.

He completely drops trou and says, emphatically, "SEE?!?!"

It. Took. ALL. I had not to just bust up laughing at him, bless his little heart, and the irony of how now this concerned him and yet later in life....

Calmly, I nodded and said yes, sometimes a man's penis would do that, and that perhaps he just needed to go pee for it to go "back to normal."

Skeptically, he trudged up the stairs to the bathroom. Within minutes I heard him shouting from the stairs that I was a genius and IT WORKED!

If only he knew how ignorant I would have been if not for Charlie Brown's enlightenment several years ago.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

A New Level of Marital Miscommunications

2009-07-29T10:20:00.005-06:00

So, Charlie Brown and I are pretty tech savvy, right?

Yesterday, I had a pretty crappy day. I was so stressed about medical bills vs. income we had coming. Compounding this stress was the fact that my hormones were flying high as I [TMI in aboout 3, 2, 1] was on day 2 of my second period since Lil Guy has been born. [Sidenote: I know you're thinking it - she's like what, 3 mos postpartum and she's had not one but two periods already?!? I KNOW!!!] I'd cried most of the night before and several times yesterday as well. Charlie Brown had called me a few times during the day, all of which I ended up crying during.

Later, I received the following texts from him, right in a row before I had a chance to respond. My thought responses are below, however. Prepare to be entertained

CB - Wanna play tonight? Only 2 conditions...

Indignantly, Uhmhm, I have now I have confirmation that the man never listens to a word I say! I told him that I am "otherwise incapacitated" this week.

CB- [I] know you can do all that, you like a challenge

:chuckles: ok, well, let's see just what he has up his sleeve, even if it's all for naught.

CB - 1. hour of 100% positive encouraging words and body language towards everybody on the field, 2. Doing what I tell you if I need to (prolly won't)

At this point I was stymied and automatically sent a text back to him:

RR - ????? Is this meant for me???

But upon further analysis, I had the following thoughts:

1. I know I've been down today, but c'mon don't you think I can pull myself together for your softball game? It's kind of sweet though. And 2. What kind of kinky stuff are you thinking about, anyway? Dang, boy!

Right about then, he called me. He says, "Our friend sent those to me, as conditions for subbing on their team tonight. It didn't show that it was a forwarded msg?"

Nope.

So I told him what had been going through my mind as I'd gotten each text, and he got a good laugh out of it.

The Costs of Health Care, if You Can Call it That

2009-07-24T11:50:00.002-06:00

I just opened yet another stack of medical bills and my spirits are struggling to stay up, to have faith in God's providence.

I KNOW that He has done so much for us already, but it's almost as if our health care system is gambling with God right now. Oh yeah, well I see your $5,500 raised by your churches and I'll raise you $8,800 plus the unknown of the pulmonology bill that has yet to come. Or something like that, as I'm not a gambler.

And let's not forget that the state of Colorado wrote off a great portion of our hospital debt - like $65k worth of a $68k bill - through the Colorado Indigent Care Program. Thanks be to God, because without that we'd be in financial ruin right now. But here's the rub, and one that especially grates at my husband's ego as well as those of many others who qualify for CICP: we are not "indigent" by definition of the word:

in⋅di⋅gent [in-di-juhnt]
–adjective
1.lacking food, clothing, and other necessities of life because of poverty; needy; poor; impoverished.
2.Archaic.
a.deficient in what is requisite.
b.destitute (usually fol. by of).

Rather, my husband happens to be a hard-working man who works 50+ hours/week at a physically demanding job making pretty good money for our area. His employers offer health insurance, and we had it after I quit my job with the city for Lil Guy's prenatal care through his birth. However, the premium was scheduled to go up, again, s of May 1, 2009. To $880/month for our family, with a $5,000/person deductible, and then 60%/40% co-insurance after the deductible. Max out of pocket expenses in a year was $20k. Now, I don't know about you, but to pay virtually another mortgage payment every month so that I was assured that I wouldn't have to pay more than the $20k that I don't have sitting around for medical expenses didn't quite fly with me. We'd already downsized our income to have me be at home with the kids, and couldn't really afford this blow either.

But, rather than be irresponsible and have NO insurance at all, we knew that we needed to look for a plan B. So we found an independent broker and got our own health plan, then terminated Charlie Brown's before it renewed on those awful terms.

The only problem was that we had a 2 week gap.

And I happened to get deathly ill in that 2 week gap. Just 4 more days and we would have made it.

I'm grateful that CICP exists, don't get me wrong. But it's not enough. Thankfully God has supplemented us with the contributions from our church.

And I'm angry that people removed from these kinds of struggles are pitching a fit about health care reform - because this kind of thing happens EVERY DAY in America. I'm angry that people who work hard every day are being bankrupted because of medical expenses. I'm angry when I hear health care workers complaining that they have to do more with less - because really, what industry ISN'T being told that right now? Health care costs are TOO high. Particularly the insurance part.

I don't know that government insurance is the answer necessarily, because I haven't read up enough on the policy specifics to know what the bottom line is for taxpayers. And because quite honestly, where would the money for it come from? We are already tapped out fiscally as a country and if we just continue to spend our dollars will soon become as worthless as the German Marks did during the Great Depression.

But those naysayers who don't even want to have the conversations about doing something, anything, bother me. That's all I'm saying. I think.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

When God's Love IS the Church

2009-07-22T11:00:00.002-06:00

Recently I read a book called “The Shack.” The story centers on a man named Mack and a weekend he spends with God, manifest as the Trinity. Without giving the plotline away, or even endorsing the book for that matter, [another post, coming up] I wanted to share a part of the book that touched me in light of my recent health struggles. Mack is talking with Jesus about the church, to which Jesus has just referred as “the woman I’m in love with.”

Mack paused, searching for the right words. “You’re talking about the church as this woman you’re in love with; I’m pretty sure I haven’t met her.” He turned away slightly. “She’s not the place I go to on Sundays,” Mack said more to himself, unsure if that was safe to say out loud.

Mack, not unlike a lot of people – churched or unchurched – hasn’t seen love in action that is in keeping with the Scriptures’ examples of what the church should be. So widespread is this problem that Christian band Casting Crowns even has a song called “If We Are the Body,” begging the questions:

But if we are the Body
Why aren't His arms reaching
Why aren't His hands healing
Why aren't His words teaching
And if we are the Body Why aren't His feet going
Why is His love not showing them there is a way
There is a way

But I have no question in my mind whether God’s Spirit is moving at our church. Over the years, we have seen prayer vigils for the gravely ill, outreach to families who’ve lost children, and so much more. And yet, while we see these things and know that our family is one ruled by Love – that is, Christ himself – it doesn’t seem to make as deep of an impact until one experiences it personally.

From the very beginning of our ordeal I called out to my church family, knowing I could count on our congregation. Thinking my pain was related to nerves, I asked for a ride to and from my chiropractor. And within a short time I received “feet,” or wheels rather, that were willing to go with me.

Later, after being rushed to the hospital via ambulance, our church secretary worked tirelessly as our mouth and ears, communicating our needs to the body on a regular basis. In response to these reports, we had an amazing fleet of prayer warriors calling to the throne for us, as well as countless “angels” who voluntarily cared for Lil Guy at hours during which most of us prefer to sleep. Many of said “angels” volunteered on multiple nights, too. These actions didn’t just minister to us, but to so many working at the hospital as well.

But it didn’t stop there. Many of our congregation prepared meals for us upon my release from the hospital. Others helped around the house while I was incapacitated. Still others transported me to and from doctor visits. A few took the older kids on playdates, which provided a break from their stress and was so invaluable for them!

Financially – I can’t even begin to write about this without tearing up – despite massive write-offs from a hospital program, we still wound up with several sizeable bills, not to mention the loss of Charlie Brown’s wages as he took time off. The generous donations from the people of our church to help offset these shortfalls have totaled in the thousands! Added to it was an unexpected, rather significant contribution from the church of Christ in Craig. God’s love and provision have been proven to us over and over throughout this trial, and mostly through the actions of His people.

In an e-mail I sent to our church in June, I wrote the following:

Throughout this whole ordeal I kept reflecting on Philippians 4:13, and I now have a new take on this special verse. You all were [are] the body of Christ – his hands to prepare meals and his feet to run errands, his ears to listen, his shoulders to lean upon and find comfort, and so much more. Now when I read, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” I think of Christ in totality, not just the Savior who died for me but the people who make up his body here on earth today as well.

When Charlie Brown and I think about the church’s role during this entire experience, the love and support is overwhelming. We are forever grateful. For ALL of it. Words cannot express the depth of our thanks for the help we have received.

We hope that we are able to return the favor several times over to our brothers in sisters in the future. Moreover, we plan on sharing our story with the Macks in our lives so they may see that God’s Love is working right here in under our very noses.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

When Going Through The Motions Doesn't Quite Cut the Mustard

2009-07-18T10:22:00.002-06:00

The transition from pregnancy to having a new family member has never been an easy one for me and Charlie Brown.

With LMNOB we were so terribly young in both chronological age and our spiritual maturity. Charlie Brown had a habitual sin in his life that had plagued him from early adolescence into his adulthood, making our already formidable passage from newlyweds to Surprise! You're-New-Parents that much more difficult. Add a dash of my depressive tendencies and a shake of financial woes and we were doomed from the get go, right?

Apparently not, because things got better, slowly, and not too long after LMNOB we felt like we could face this transition again, albeit on a more planned basis. I didn't have nearly the depression issues with Punkinhead that I'd had with LMNOB, but the demands of parenting a pre-term newborn with an often trying toddler (now we know that her "difficult" and "stubborn" behaviors were mostly attributable to her sensory integration problems, but at the time, not so much) made his babyhood a hard time for me, as well as for Charlie Brown because again his sin came into the light. Sparing a lot of details, suffice to say that this go round was especially tough for me and went on for years. We went to counseling, did Dynamic Marriage, I had another depressive episode and finally, the struggle culminated [for me] when I ended up having an equally sinful emotional affair with another man. Fortunately, as I got further and further into my fantasy land with this man who made me feel so good, God humbled me to the point of repentance when it became clear that my "affair" was all in my mind and quite unrequited. This prompted a lot of soul searching for me over the course of 2006 and 2007 (leading to the creation of this blog) and late 2007 and early 2008 was a monumental healing period for us.

So much so that a year ago we began a huge journey of faith together and decided to try for another baby. When we began talking about it I expressly mentioned my fear of the post-partum transition, noting that while we'd both grown and matured since the last time, that while the habitual sin seemed finally conquered, PRAISE GOD!, and discussable [as opposed to something that was unmentionable even when only tempted and not actually something in which he was indulging], I knew that Satan likes to sneak in through any cracks of the armor so to speak, and I was scared of that. I was scared of this period more than I was scared of the financial repercussions of me quitting my job to stay at home with the kids. I was scared of this transition more than I was of sacrificing my independence and sense of self-identity. Charlie Brown assured me that things would be different, that they already WERE different this time.

And I trusted that. I trusted him, but more importantly, I trusted Him. I believed that God would see us through and victory would be had for His glory.

I still believe that. However, I'm realizing that it's taking work to keep out of that danger zone. That in order to bring God glory in this situation, we are still accountable to making the right choices. That going through the motions each day is not the same thing as living with purpose and connection. And just this morning, a situation arose that triggered some of these old feelings for me, indicating that Charlie Brown and I need a good, honest check-in with each other. I can't let this become an elephant in the room and dance around it on tiptoes. We are called to be like iron sharpening iron and that is necessary for us right now.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Bees Have Got Nuthin' on Me

2009-07-11T08:20:00.003-06:00

I have been a mite busy, folks.

Last weekend we headed up to Craig for some fam time with my family plus Charlie Brown's family, and I was gloriously offline save for the few mobile updates I did on facebook.

Tuesday we headed back, as Charlie Brown had a softball double header that night. About 30 minutes before the end of the windy canyon road we travel to get home, Punkinhead announced his tummy didn't feel so good so I told him to let us know if he was going to get sick and that he had a bag (from his happy meal in Steamboat) to throw up in. Well about 25 minutes later, we heard a sound, looked back and LMNOB was sitting in her own puke with nary a word about feeling ill. Charlie Brown pulled over, rushed to her side of the truck and told her to get out but she was unable to get past doing anything but puking. Punkinhead looked over and then he got sick, in the bag. However, because it took so long to clean LMNOB up, his bag ripped out and the contents got all over him anyway. Now we had two kids being cleaned up on the side of the road, and then Lil Guy proceeds to Scream like Never Before, when Punkinhead asserts that he "forgot to put underwear on today," as we are changing him into fresh pants. :giggle: Got on the road and we had 1 CURVE LEFT before being on the straightaway!

We got home, with enough time to feed Lil Guy, change into softball garb and load up in the CAR, and go to softball, where we also purchased dinner. Came home, put kids to bed and cleaned the truck upholstery and unpacked.

Wednesday - VBS in the morning, a couple of hours at a spray park, and then church at night.

Thursday - VBS in the morning, lunch, and then we were off to see the Wizard, er, Great Mombi, in the local community college's Journey Back to Oz play. I cooked dinner that night, but the rice didn't cook (my burner's low was apparently too low for this rice to simmer on as it was still crunchy) and we ended up needing to augment our meal - but being as no one had been home all week that meant no groceries and thus we ended up out to eat.

Friday - last day of VBS and mad cleaning at our house since we hadn't done any all week.

In the meantime, I read a book and wish to blog my thoughts about it soon....

Also - today is our anniversary. 11 years of me and Charlie Brown :)

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

Transitions, Tantrums and Temptations

2009-06-26T08:37:00.005-06:00

Well friends, I am officially HEALTHY. Had my last follow-up appointment with the Infectious Disease doc yesterday (sounds so insidious, as if I could be living my own personal Outbreak, right?) and all is well in my body. Which I pretty much had figured, seeing as the pulmonologist was pleased with my progress the week before, AND (perhaps most significant to me) I was able to do a Billy Blanks DVD on Sunday. All the way through. And I'm alive to tell about it.

Switching gears.....

So, this SAHM thing is not so new anymore, as we've hit the 6 month mark this month; however, until 2 months ago, LMNOB and Punkinhead were still in school and Lil Guy was yet to be born. Now we don't have school and Lil Guy is here with his need to feed and interact and all that other time consuming stuff that newborns require. And truth is, I'm finding it all a bit overwhelming. Not PPD overwhelming, but more like it's-4 o'clock-in-the-afternoon-and-I'm-as-yet-unshowered-in-a-uniform-of-yoga-pants-and-a-nursing-cami-accessorized-with-spit-up-and-crumbs-from-today's-lunch-dinner-needs-cooked-the-house-is-a-pit-and-your-father-is-going-to-be-home-soon-kids-overwhelming, can you hear me gasping for air?

I'd like to think that this is normal, that due to my sickness we lost a month of the transitioning period and really we are dealing with the first month stuff. I'd like to think that a few more weeks and we'll get this gig down pat. But nagging somewhere in the back of my mind is a voice that plants the seeds of doubt: What if this is it? What if you changed your life so dramatically, gave up your self for this chaos?

Immediately upon feeling these things, is the guilt. The reminder that I chose this, planned for this, and that I knew going into it that there would be sacrifices and days like these. And, of course, I'm wondering this and writing this on the heels of a few bad days where the kids' listening abilities have been highly selective and bordering on downright oppositional.

Yesterday, after multiple tantrums from my ~~spawn~~ children and yelling for the umpteenth time which yielded still unsatisfactory results, I had a little mama meltdown fantasy, totally in my mind, whilst externally putting on a sympathetic and compassionate face as I had a heart to heart with LMNOB, the lead instigator in the week's events.

But what do you do when your child tells you she wishes things are the way they used to be before the newest sibling came along; including your physical appearance? Yes, apparently I am raising a shallow little mean girl as she so kindly pointed out that it "looked like I had two stomachs," and she wished that I looked like I did before Lil Guy. Yes, I watched yesterday's Oprah where we are told as parents not to defend, fix or deflect our children's feelings but to just hear them. I get the whole validation thing, but what are we to do when our children want change? And change that we are unwilling/unable to accommodate?

In dealing with all of this I've come to face my old temptations. Those of eating....remember my post about eating a whole pan of brownies? Wasn't just a one-time occurrence, and sadly I don't think I can justify a daily caloric intake rivaling that of Michael Phelps' due to me being a breastfeeding mother. Hyperbole, there in that comparison? Perhaps a smidge, but the fact remains that I need to get a grip on my eating of late. Moreover, I need to be more conscious about the reasons why I am eating, because I don't think it is all hunger.

The other temptation? To zone. To waste time and not be present with my kids or in tending to my household. To surf the web and to just escape.

My solution to these temptations is to return to structured days with the kids. Structured, scheduled bed and wake times, structured activities each day, and goals to achieve for myself, the kids, and the house chores. Should be interesting given that we have a newborn who can often throw a wrench into things, particularly sleep, but if the kids get more structure again some of the behavioral stuff will wane (hopefully) which will (again, hopefully) decrease some of the overwhelm I am feeling.

Not Me! Monday - 6.15.09

2009-06-15T14:53:00.004-06:00

Recently my friend Angela began blogging, and as often happens when one begins to read someone new, introductions to other, new-to-you bloggers are made. Angela reads MckMama, who has this fabulous blog carnival/meme called:

MckMama explains:

Embarrassed that your child urinated in their pants at your mother in law's house?Ashamed about the cupcakes you ate for dinner? Would you like to hide the fact that you put your child to bed in their dirty clothes from the day instead of in clean pajamas? We'll don't be! Not Me! Monday was born out of my desire to admit some of my imperfections and reveal a few moments I'd rather forget. You may find it therapeutic to join in and do the same thing!

So without further ado, here's my attempt at my first Not Me! Monday

I definitely did not, in effort to boost my protein intake as recommended by a home health nurse, take out my [realtively] new Food Network blender (read: not cheap), throw some protein powder, milk, peanut butter and a banana in and proceed to blend without first remembering that the seal was not in place, but had been thrown in the blender by Someone (Not Me!) last time it was washed. I definitely did not put 2 and 2 together when the smoothie oozed all over out the bottom, and, because this didn't happen to me, I did not later fish out the shredded bands that were once the seal to my beloved blender with a saddened heart. That would be completely boneheaded!

I surely didn't place a towel on the sheet and sleep on it the other night when Lil Guy decided to wet my bed, and also proceeded to spit up like Mt. Vesuvius, during a midnight diaper change. Further, I didn't continue to sleep like this for a few more days before changing the sheets - that would be disgusting!

Finally, I definitely have NOT been eating family size servings of the desserts that have come with the meals people have been bringing over. For example, an entire pan of brownies (that the family never even got to taste) disappeared over the course of 2 days, and I definitely did NOT eat them ALL.

Or maybe I did and that is why the pregnancy weight is no longer falling off me ;)

The Post I Keep Starting But Never Finishing

2009-06-13T23:37:00.003-06:00

I keep trying to sit here and type out a post that says life is slowly transitioning from the Surreal Near Death Experience to the Blessed Hum-Drum of Normal, or at least Normal as we at Casa del Meyer knew it to be.

Which, really if you think about it, we were in the process of defining a NEW Normal prior to the Surreal Near Death Experience seeing as we'd recently added a family member and that always shakes things up a bit, so really, apparently I'm liking the really lingo tonight, do we even know what Normal, even the Casa del Meyer variety, is anymore?

I think I've just confused myself, and therein lies the problem of why this post has been started and stopped umpteen different times over the past 2 weeks: I'm at a loss of what to say because my mind spins a million different directions anytime I start to think about it.

So....as unoriginal as it is, I give you Bullet Points!

Health front - I'm feeling more like my Normal self, physically and mentally. And as of Thursday I became PICC free! No more frustrating attempts to cover my arm in saran wrap and medical tape so as to keep my arm dry in the shower - how liberating this is, friends! My CRP's were back down in normal range (interesting trivia - normal range for CRP's is less than 10 and I was at a whopping 319 at the hospital - yes, I was one sick chica) as were my white blood cell counts, and now I just have one follow-up appt with the pulmonologist next week and another with the infectious disease docs in 2 weeks. Then, I shall hopefully be done and ~~just watch the bills pile up~~ this will all be a distant memory...albeit one that I will constantly be reminded of every time I put on deodorant and/or pay my bills.
Parenting - LMNOB has been great and resilient about this whole episode, but Punkinhead has really struggled with it. Not only was Mom super-duper sick and couldn't care for the fam like he was used to, he now had to be around LMNOB 24/7 vs. having a nice 8 hour break from her called School, AND, he had a new sibling who happened to bump Punkinhead into the infamous Middle Child placement. Oh yes, Punkinhead has had a bit of a rough go at it of late. Add to it that Colorado's weather has suddenly decided to end its summer drought pattern and return to the Junes of yore, which were exceptionally wet and rainy, and well, we've all been a little stir-crazy. One day a week or so ago, he was tired and frustrated with it all and he exclaimed accusingly, "But everything is always ALL ABOUT YOU, Mama!" his eyes screaming at me, "This is NOT Normal! I want Normal back." And oh, how my little heart ached to try and explain it all away for him. But how do you explain to a 5, almost 6, y/o that sometimes you just gotta go with the flow of life, that sometimes the pecking order gets skewed and yes, everything can change to be all about someone else whether we like it or not? My standard "Suck it up, Buttercup," isn't sufficient for this one. Thankfully, he's getting back to his Normal self too, proportionate to our lives resuming normalcy.
Marriage - Charlie Brown is great, has been great through this whole process, but we grew a bit distant having Crisis looming over our heads for a prolonged time. We didn't have the debriefing convos that LMNOB and I had had until one Sunday night at Life Group we were talking about the ordeal with our peers from church and I got to hear his take on it. Which was essentially that he was scared witless initially but that faith and the support of our church got him through each day. That same weekend, we'd been out for a walk and at the end of the subdivision is a house on a giant lot. They were playing their stereo loudly as it was nice weather and they were outdoors. As I listened to the words, I recognized the song as Martina McBride's Blessed, and the tears flowed from both of our eyes as we looked at each other knowingly. To top it off, the next song was LoneStar's Front Porch Looking In - which has a great sentiment too, but directly applies to us what with "carrot tops who can barely walk" and little blonde girls. Shortly after arriving home there was this hunger, this raw need for physical intimacy between us. Kind of like how, in the wake of the death of a loved one, people instinctively turn to their mates to make love as an affirmation of the fact that they are still alive, the desire to be united as one and the closest two can be consumed us. Afterward, I asked Charlie Brown if the scars, as well as my post-partum physique diminished his attraction for me. He held me, told me I was beautiful and that the scars only reminded him of just how precious my time with him was, and we both cried. Healing, therapeutic tears slipped out of our eyes, not in torrents of inconsolable sobs, but in a cleansing wash that rinsed our once-worried hearts with peace and gratitude. Now that we have that behind us, we're now just trying to adjust to the daily grind of him going to work and me staying with the kids, and keeping up that precarious balance between sleep and intimacy that is necessary when you have a newborn. No small potatoes, but in comparison to the last month, it is pretty Normal.

One Month, Five Weeks, It All Blurs Together

2009-05-31T22:34:00.005-06:00

Lil Guy last Monday, at exactly one month.

Lil Guy this weekend with his new playgym purchased with gift cards and a 15% off coupon at Babies R Us.

He is such a good baby, and a breath of heaven to my soul. Some days I feel saddened that I missed out on 2 weeks of his first month, but I hold tight to God's word:

"I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten..."

This verse has held so much promise to me in other areas of life; in particular, it was a "life preserver" verse for me when our marriage was on the rocks and there had been more unhappy times than happy ones. God spoke to me through these simple words and helped me to cling to the hope that there was a happy future ahead for Charlie Brown and me.

And, wouldn't you know, God came through for us with that happy future. He has blessed us immeasurably over the past 18 months, but particularly since we took our vacation last July. Our love is deeper, stronger, and more alive than ever. And after our recent struggles, we can truly say "for better or for worse, in sickness and in health," and know that we will get by and that He will repay us for those trials.

After my recent health ordeals, my relationship with my mother has become closer than ever and all of the crap we've been through is now water under the bridge. I truly feel as if God has repaid us for all the years the "locusts" of petty fighting have eaten.

With Lil Guy, I know that this verse will also hold true, even if I still mourn the loss of those 2 weeks.

And....how's this for meaning....

Lil Guy's middle name is Joel, mostly because of the meaning - God has heard - as we prayed and talked to God a lot about creating this precious little boy. But the fact that this verse that has helped me to stay the course, that has given me hope and let me trust in God's promise, is in the book of Joel suddenly makes his name all the more meaningful. I can remember what Scripture says usually, but remembering book, chapter and verse is another thing....I knew this verse was Old Testament, but never realized the significant tie between Lil Guy's namesake and this verse before tonight.

More often than not the "locusts" are sin, that of our own, those we love, or usually a little on both sides in a relationship. Sin separates people from each other, causing them to be fearful, distrusting, insecure and broken. And sin definitely separated us from God. Sometimes the locusts are trials and not sin at all; however, had sin not entered the world and caused it to become a fallen place, such trials wouldn't exist.

But God is the Great Reconciler. His desire is to always bring people back to each other in relationship, and moreover, back to Him and the cross. Jesus bridges the gap between us and God that sin created. And that's pretty awesome in my book. What a mighty and loving God we serve!

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved

The Who, What, How and Why of My Mystery Illness

2009-05-29T08:23:00.005-06:00

So Lil Guy was born on 4/25, and the delivery was beautiful.

Fast, no tearing, no pain (thanks be to epidurals) and a euphoric high welcoming this little boy that we'd hoped and planned for so very much.

Nine days later, I woke up after having brought him to bed to nurse, and in so doing I had fallen asleep in a weird position. I had a pain in my shoulder akin to "pinching a nerve," (Yes, chiropractors everywhere cringe when we say that because we usually have not truly pinched a nerve, rather have a subluxation that needs adjusted, but go with me here) and I attributed it to bad sleeping posture and the hormone known as relaxin, as I'd just given birth.

Later that night, we went to a music program the kids had at school and the pain got worse. Like OWIE-YOWIE!!! level.

At home, I called a friend from church who is a massage therapist and asked her to come work on me. Also, I'd spiked a fever of 101. I figured it was an inflammation response to the muscle/nerve issue I had going on.

For the following 6 days I had the pain/fever on and off. If I dosed up on ibuprofen the pain was held at bay and the fever was gone. So guess what I did?

Until Monday, May 11th. I woke in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. I hopped in the shower and took a shower so hot that when I went to turn the heat up more, I found I was already at the max. I called my chiropractor and set up an appointment to get in that morning. I also called upon my church to see if someone could take me to the appointment as I was hurting so badly I didn't feel as if I could take Lil Guy in and out of the carseat.

Went to the chiro - pain, pain, pain. He was concerned about the fever and thought perhaps my gallbladder was going septic. But when he pushed on it there was no tenderness. He set up a few appointments for me as he didn't think it would be resolved all that quickly.

Went home, still lots of pain. Called DSW (my BFF who also happens to be an RN) and asked her if she minded sitting with the baby and I because I was in so much pain. She came right over. I napped and got shallower and shallower with my breathing because now the shoulder pain had radiated out and was generalized chest pain. My temp went up, and so did DSW's anxiety. She really wanted me to see an MD, not a chiro. She told me she worried that I had a blood clot in my lung, fluid build up, or something else. These all sounded way too dramatic for me and I tried to dismiss her.

Also, of note: Charlie Brown's health insurance was to renew on May 1 at a horrible new premium rate ($900/month - like a second mortgage!) with higher deductibles ($3,000/person), and lowered coinsurance (60%/40%). We had opted out, with coverage ending on 4/30; however, we'd worked with a broker to get an individual health plan for the family and it would be effective 5/15.

DSW's hubby bought dinner and brought it to our house. When Charlie Brown got home, DSW insisted that I go to urgent care. We talked about it and decided that urgent care w/o insurance was only like $25 more than urgent care w/insurance so Charlie Brown and DSW's hubs stayed with the kids while DSW and I rode over to urgent care.

I had gone downhill pretty quickly in the meantime. Feverish, in acute pain, and just out of it. She wheelchaired me into urgent care and I somehow signed my name on the paperwork. Next thing I know DSW and the nurse checking me out are concerned, talking furiously over me, and then I'm told that I am going to be transported to the hospital via ambulance because I was not stable enough to go with someone else.

DSW called Charlie Brown and let him know what was up. DSW and her hubs took our oldest kids to their house and had them spend the night. Charlie Brown and Lil Guy came and met me in the ER.

The ER doc checking me out told me I had "junk in my lungs" and said he suspected I had pneumonia. At this point I argued with him saying that I'd had pneumonia 5 years ago and I wasn't coughing crap up nor had I been SO lethargic like the time before so it couldn't possibly be the same. I mean, just the day before my bro and I had gone to see Garrison Keillor in Boulder, and before that church and all the activities that kept us busy were all being done.

The chest x-ray proved me wrong. It showed some pneumonia in my right lung, but even more so, tons of fluid on the outside of my right lung.

That's when the questions about the birth began:

"Did you have a C-section?" No.

"Did you vomit while laboring?" No....not this time - with LMNOB, yes.

Hmmmm.......

Enter a new doc, the pulmonologist, who comes in and says we need to do a CT scan to determine if the fluid is just fluid or if it has started to solidify into "pockets," because fluid could be dealt with via chest tube whereas the pockets might need surgery.

Also, IV team, because I am an incredibly hard stick. Even with an ultrasound guiding them it was difficult to get the IV[s] into me as needed. Lemme tell you how fun it is to have folks digging in your veins repeatedly...oh wait, it's not fun. AT ALL.

It was here that we were told I had to pump and dump for 24 hours because the pharmacy consult said the jury was still out on the safety of nursing with contrast dye in the system. So Charlie Brown at one point left to go get my pump and formula for the baby.

Went and did the CT scan and it showed mostly fluid with a pocket or two, but the pulmonologist thought a chest tube would be sufficient. So they began to insert one in me. They shoot you up with lidocaine, like at the dentist, but I could still feel WAY MORE than I was able to tolerate, and I just cried, "Owie, owie, owie," into the pillow until they were done. It was horrible and torturous. Immediately upon insertion of the tube, however, they drained a soda-pop worth of fluid off of my lungs, and it continued to drain still more over the next two days. As the fluid drained some of the pain decreased with the release of pressure.

The next morning (day 2), I had to go do a chest x-ray for the pulmonologist team to determine whether the chest tube was draining everything properly. This chest x-ray revealed that things were starting to gel up in the fluid, at this point called pleural effusions, and so the doctor ordered tPA to be injected into the chest tube. tPA works on human tissue in a manner comparable to how Liquid Plumr works on hair/grease clogs by eating away at the chunks. This caused a lot of pain as it only increased the pressure inside my chest cavity instead of decreasing it. After an hour, I could take no more and they began draining again - this time I could see chunks of stuff coming down the tube with the fluid. Yum.

My MIL and FIL came up to help with the kids and my mom was notified. As we approached the 24 hour pump and dump marker I was ready to nurse Lil Guy, who'd spent the night at home with Charlie Brown trying formula and failing, miserably. We put out an e-mail to our church and a shift rotation was created where people would stay in my room with me and the baby to help me nurse him and/or soothe him when he was awake and I needed to rest. This was vital as I couldn't just up and get out of bed since I was hooked up to IV's, the chest tube, and oxygen. This also allowed Charlie Brown the ability to go home and get some rest at night. MIL and FIL helped get the kids to school each morning and then came to the hospital to help with the baby and reprieve the church friends from their shifts.

Day 3 - Another chest x-ray first thing in the morning. Later, the pulmonologist came up to explain that the chest x-ray showed my condition was worsening. Despite the tPA the day before, the effusions were beginning to solidify into pus and tissue, a condition known as empyema. The only solution was to do surgery. The surgeon would come and talk to me at some point that day. In the mean-time I asked if nursing could still be feasible - the baby had done miserably on formula; he'd not eaten it well, it gave him terribly painful gas, and he had a raging diaper rash from it. Initially they said no.

My mom came up at hearing the news that I needed surgery.

Later a CNA came in to give me a sponge bath and asked how I was doing when I completely fell apart. I didn't want to have to give up nursing my baby, I didn't want to hurt him again, and wasn't the stress of this environment enough? She got me calmed down and said that moms who have c-sections, also surgery she pointed out, nurse all the time and that she thought a lactation consult would help ease my mind. In the meantime I pumped to ensure enough milk would be available while I was under and in surgery.

The surgeon didn't come until 8:00pm (making it an extremely long day). When he came he told me that the empyema was about the consistency of jello and they were going to make two small incisions and arthroscopically suck it all out. Surgery would be tomorrow at 7:00a.m. and recovery time would be 6-7 days.

Day 4 - Surgery. I remember the prep for the surgery, the anesthesia and everything until they put a mask on my face. I was scared. I've always had a phobia about being cut open. After that I am unclear. I do not recall coming to. I do know that when I was coherent they told me that the 1 hour surgery had turned into a 3 hour surgery because the "jello" had actually gotten even thicker, more like tissue and couldn't be sucked out. Rather they had to open my chest cavity, spread my ribs and carve out all that gunk.

After surgery I had to cough a lot. The coughing was like white hot pain as it expelled blood clots and mucous deep within my lungs. The nurses told me to hit the pain med pump a few times to get ahead of the pain when I felt a clot cough coming on. This still didn't do much for pain management.

A new chest tube had been inserted with 2 tubes inside my chest during the surgery to drain out fluid that was residual from the surgery. It was pink and bloody-ish.

Day 5 - this was the scary middle of the night fever spike that I mentioned in my last post.

The days began to blur into one another at this point. I know that on Day 7, we got to go outside for lunch at the hospital. On Day 8 (Monday the 18th) I got my chest tubes out - the first one came out easily enough but the second one hurt. So many cringeworthy, painful and scary moments.

They began talking about getting the PICC line in so I could go home and get IV antibiotics through it at home. But, as I told you before, that didn't go so well - another traumatic episode - and I think because of all that digging, my temps/white blood cell count went up and they kept me a day longer than planned. Second attempt was made and was successful, not to mention prompt.

The cultures that they ran on the fluid, tissues, etc. showed that the bug that had caused all this damage was an anaerobic bacteria that typically resides in the human mouth. This is why they were asking if I'd vomited during the delivery, as perhaps I'd aspirated something and that's how the mouth bug got into my lungs.

And finally, as I thought about it, I remembered the Wednesday night before I delivered Lil Guy, we'd eaten at Chili's and I'd had contractions as well as had thrown up my dinner. Perhaps? I don't remember choking on my vomit there, but who knows? The timing plays out per the surgeon. Sort of....he said typically the bug incubates for a week before symptoms - this would have been almost 2 wks before that initial shoulder pain. But it could have been that I was developing the pneumonia prior to the shoulder pain, as that was indicative of the fluid creating pressure.

All I know is that my lung could have collapsed had I not made it in when I did - DSW saved my life.

And scary as it was, God blessed us with the love and support of our church family, neighbors and immediate family. 11 nights of people working 4 four-hour shifts through the night to make sure I could keep breastfeeding him and get the rest that I desperately needed. Countless cards, prayers, and now financial assistance. Not only did we wrack up medical debt up to our eyeballs, but Seth wasn't working much of the time that I was in the hospital - and that was unpaid leave - thus our regular bills are behind as well. I've been negotiating with our creditors (gone are the days of avoiding collection calls - going to face this situation head-on) and we've already received a sizeable donation from an anonymous donor at our church. Not to mention that they are coming to the house and doing chores, cooking, and caring for me and the baby as I am on weight lifting restrictions and still need plenty of sleep to fully recuperate.

So that's the 411 on the physical info. The next few posts are likely to center on the faith and emotional aspects of this journey.

It's Really Starting to Sink In

2009-05-26T15:52:00.003-06:00

The impact of just what has happened is finally being processed by my brain, and it is almost a post-traumatic stress response.

I remember the night after the surgery, when my temperature soared and the nurses couldn't get me to cool down. They packed me on ice on the hospital bed and watched vigilantly, willing my fever to break. Meanwhile I thought I was going to die and I just cried, delirious with fever and the fear that I was going to leave my beloved husband and children without anyone to love and care for them. I prayed and told God that while I didn't fear death and would love to be with Him, I wasn't able to cause my family such heartbreak and needed to stay around for them.

And then my poor babies....I can't imagine what the last 3 weeks have been for them.

I remember them coming to see me when I was post-surgery and LMNOB took one look at me and began sobbing. The central line out of my neck freaked her out, along with the oxygen tubes, chest tubes, etc.

I just try and put myself in 8 and 6 year old shoes and the mind boggles at the fear factor they had to be wrestling with.

We've had some debriefing conversations, particularly between me and LMNOB, and things are getting less scary for her, but she's still worried about me as she told my mom the other night. Rightly so, as the pulmonologist appointment revealed I still have a long ways to go before I am "recovered."

The older kids and I haven't really had a lot of time together of late because everyone is trying to be so helpful and "keep them out of my hair" so I can rest, but really I feel like my babies and I are growing apart as a result.

I just want to be healthy and be able to be the mother and wife my family needs me to be. I am forever grateful for my church family as they are helping us to attain this wish with their help around the house, cooking of meals, and general visitations.

© 2009 Ramblings of a Red-Headed Step-Child. All Rights Reserved