How I know...

...that it's too hot.

• I often refer to my hometown as the surface of the sun.
• My Cutie is screaming "seat hot" before I even get the car door open.
• I am cranky from the first minute I walk outside.
• And how I really knew it was hot to the extreme...
• The photograph that I have of my hubs in my car melted. A photograph. Melted.

Send Route 44 fresh fruit slushies...

Racer's Home Update...or the process of losing my mind

So, I've pretty much lost most of my blogging motivation. In all fairness, I've lost my motivation for everything. Daytime highs of 115 don't scream to me "Do something! Clean! Unpack!Organize!Write!" as much as it does, "lay around and try not to melt" or "rage like a maniac when having to get in and out of the car."

We're in the new house. I love it for the most part. I wish I would've realized the hazard that is the tile floor in the kitchen/dining area. It is VERY slippery. And we will not be replacing it anytime soon. SWEET. I'm guessing it may cause a trip for stitches at some point in time. Not that I'm receiving that word, just thinkin it could happen.

My favorite parts are the wood flooring that my hubs installed and my dark brown accent wall in my bedroom. Dirty Job has spilled approximately eleventy million things on the wood floor, and it makes me smile thinking about all of the stains I have saved myself from had there been carpet in the great room.

I guess that's all the update I have. Because I know ya all have been on pins and needles waiting to hear from me.

What an angel!

Well, we all made it through surgery none the worse for wear. Actually, I think it was Major Hunk who had the most difficulty. I guess I should have asked for prayers for him too :) All kidding aside, I so appreciate all the prayers that were sent out on our behalf. She had no difficulties at all and all the staff was raving about what a good patient she was. She didn't cry when they took her back, put her under, or coming out of anesthesia. In fact, the only time she cried for the first 8 hours we were there was when I had to leave the room to g0 to the restroom. They told us to bring movies she would like to watch. I did not realize they only had a VCR, but thankfully, they had a few videos available. Only 2 of them suitable for children. So, after a day's worth of the first Barney video ever made, I was oh-so-grateful when the night nurse had brought in reinforcements.

We were released to go home the next morning and she has been doing great ever since. She was so wired up getting home that I couldn't get her down for a nap for hours even though she was rubbing her eyes profusely. They told us days 3-5 are the most painful, so praying that we can keep her pain to a minimal.

We are so blessed with such a loving God who cares about us and the details of our lives so much. I really felt the Spirit with me that day as I was peaceful handing my little girl off to total strangers to drug her and cut out parts of her body. (I know, just keeping it real.) So, again, thank you for praying for us and checking in on us throughout the days.

Laying it down

Well, tomorrow is a big day for us. Our little Cpl Cutie is having surgery. We are hopeful that this will help her in sleeping better and being able to breathe more clearly through her nose. She has been a mouth breather since birth and you rarely see her without a ring of drool on her shirt. All that to say, the ENT has recommended removing her enlarged tonsils and most likely her adnoids.

Well, I have been one nervous mama all week. So, this morning I spent some time at church with the Lord. I laid it at the cross. Now, I just have to leave it there.

So, if you think of us, send up a prayer for my Cutie and her mama.

Thanks, interpeeps.

Intervention

Go ahead, internet peeps, stretch a hand toward your computer screen and intercede for your virtual friends, Captain and Racer. Because if you didn't get the memo, they are in the moving processes. And frankly, the Racer needs to be medicated/sedated/calgon-take-me awayed.

I'm pretty sure that between the two of us, we have spent more consecutive hours in Lowe's over the past two weeks than we did in labor for all three of our kids. This time, there has been no offer of an epidural to GIVE US SOME RELIEF ALREADY!

That is all.

Except to say I'm pretty sure we both love our houses and are beyond grateful for them. But Lowe's...I hope they fall off the planet. But I'm pretty sure between our two home purchases, their stock prices are going through the roof, and that they will be here for years to come.

Uncovering

Last year in August, at our Rest Retreat, Cpt Mom had picked up some coordinating pj's for the freakshow. What Not To Wear and Cpl Cutie had pink ones and Dinoboy and Dirty Job had red and brown ones. They didn't have matching pj's in Baby Blues' size. We thought it'd be fun to have a freakshow picture taken at the local portrait studio...we just need to find some coordinating colors for Baby Blues.

Fast forward a few months to around Christmastime. No freakshow picture, but Cpt Mom and I spotted some coordinating digs for the little guy, so we could get our act together and get the picture.

One of our many bazillion questions following Baby Blues' passing had been did we ever get one single picture of all the freaks. And I searched a little, and Cpt searched a little, and I'm pretty sure that bff searched some, too. And there was no picture to be found. How could this have happened? Why did we not have one picture of the freaky five between the 3 moms? To say it hurt my heart is an understatement. There are no words for the regret.

A few weeks back, while helping Cpt pack, we had to face those pjs. We could NEVER have the kids picture taken in them now, and yet she couldn't ever think of getting rid of them. It was such a somber moment for me. A moment where I saw the importance of cherishing every moment, wishing for time to slow down and better yet, go back. I was so sad that we had missed the opportunity and would never be able to get it back. Devastating.

This evening, I was over at Cpt's helping her pack some more, and I was clearing off her pony wall...you know, one of those places that are a "catch all." I found gold there this evening. Gold in the form of a Chuck E Cheese black and white low resolution picture of all five freaks. At first glance I only saw the 4 older kids, but when I really looked, I saw the sacred gift that this piece of paper was...a one of a kind, never to be had again picture memory of our children together. The dark hair of Dinoboy contrasted with all the blondies, Baby Blues sweet face sleeping, nobody looking at the camera, raw joy from the excitement that is a pizza playland. My heart burst in two different ways. For the joy that was the discovery. The overwhelming feeling of God's mercy in the find. That we did, indeed, capture the very best part of our jobs as moms...our precious children, doing life together.

On the other hand was the heartbreak of knowing this is the only one. There will never be another freakshow picture that will have all 5 kids. The reminder that my heart will always ache over that fact. That he will not have his day of retribution towards the hovering bigger kids as all the others did. That I cannot love on him again this side of heaven.

For this moment, I am choosing to rejoice in the treasure. I choose to kiss the picture a hundred times and cut it out, frame it, and let it be the first picture I hang in my home. Because each one of these freaks is someone to celebrate!

What Really Matters

I have been having sleep disturbances. Maybe it is because I didn't sleep in my bed for 3 nights. Maybe it was because I slept on the wrong side of the bed. Maybe it was the fact that we still have not gotten the keys to our new house and there is so much to do and not enough time to do it. And that we had to go out of town for a work related, very cool thing but this is such a busy month. Did I mention that we still don't have our keys and we still need to paint the inside of the house, tear out carpet, have new carpet installed, possibly some new tile, replace a window, re-do some electrical work and have a little plumbing work done...all before we move in...in five days? Oh yeah, and I still need to finish packing about half of our house. And I have not mentioned on this blog that my husband works in another city and has only been home on weekends, for the past 3 months.

OH.MY.WORD!

Well, I think I just uncovered my sleep disturbance issues.

I know, I am pretty much a genius.

Anyway. I did not get on here to write about the stresses of my day, week, life. What prompted me to log in was my girl. Since I have been up since 4:30am, and since she likes to sleep on the couch, I have been watching her. I don't know if there is anything more beautiful than a sleeping child. It pretty much embodies all that is right. While I watched her, I was struck, as I often am, at how amazing she is. I often find myself caught up in the stress of being the only at-home parent she has known for most of her 2 1/2 years. I get bogged down with the responsibility of teaching her about her daddy and how much he loves her and now that he is home, could you please want to spend some time with him instead of crying and whining and wanting me to hold you all the time?? (Sorry for the glimpse into my head, just keeping it real.) But this morning, I stopped making it all about me for a minute. I stopped and really watched her. And I realized...time is fleeting. My baby... She's not a baby anymore. And toddler doesn't seem to be fitting either. She does not toddle. She runs at life, full-force. She is such a unique mix of her dad and me that it makes me smile when I think about it. And laugh a little bit.

As I had my moment, letting this sink in, a big, fat dose of reality set in:
This side of heaven, we will never get to know Baby Blues at this age. We will not get to see him crawl, or take his first steps, or utter his first words. His mama will not get to tire of hearing him call her name 842 times per minute when he feels like he is not being heard. And our arms will not ache from holding him because he is big enough that it is awkward to do so.

And then I wept.

And I still weep.

And, all of a sudden, it no longer matters that I have more things to accomplish than there are hours in the day. I am going to take the time this week to enjoy my girl and my family.

I can live with unpainted walls and dirty carpet if I have to.

Some indicators that I must be a mom...

I was attending a wedding last night, and I reached into my purse and found a package of half-eaten chicken nuggets. (my daughter was not with me)

I very casually mention in conversation (in mixed company) that there is a poop stain on my carpet that I just can't get out.


As my mom likes to say, "You can dress her up, but you still can't take her out."

**edited to note that at church this morning, I reached into my purse to find my checkbook and came up with that same pack of chicken nuggets. Now that I am home, near a garbage can, I am going to throw them out. Hope I don't get distracted on the way there...