Living In Grace

Hello? Hello? Anyone out there? (Updated with a request)

Welcome to my life.

T-9 and counting ...

We are int he final stages of packing, cleaning and and prepping for the BIG MOVE!

There's not much to update on, except we're packing 14 hours a day. The kids have been amazing through the entire process- although butterflies are starting to set in regarding going back to public school the first week of September.

I can't believe they will BOTH be in high school this year. Sigh.

Well, back to it!

I will be posting another exciting music giveaway later this week in conjunction iwth EMI Music, so be sure to check back!

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**In the meantime, could you pop over and take a look at this? It's a fun and unique opportunity to give back and help out make a little boy's dream come true :) Thanks a bunch!

House Hunting

Greetings from Oregon! Today was prep day for house hunting tomorrow. We have an ealy start, and a three hour drive up the MacKenzie River highway. It's the most beautiful drive anywhere, complete wiht waterfalls along the way. Of the four houses we are going to see, three arei tnhe area of Bend we originally wanted to stay in. However, I found one house on Craigslist (who would have thought of that?) and fell in love at first click

Is it to die for, or what?

It's on the other end of town, but sits on a large lot with lots of fruit trees. The house was built in 1928 on the grounds of a huge orchard. It will take a lot to change our minds on the area we want to live in, but man oh man - this house may very well do it for me.

So, it's off to bed to get ready for an early start. I'll be taking lots and lots of pictures, so please come back tomorrow for more updates!

And school was out. The cries of freedom rang out. - Oh. and the kids were happy, too.

It started at 7am this morning. With a deadline of 3pm to get everything in and submitted, both kids were feverishly committed to finals.

Jonathan spent several hours doing his Algebra 1 final- all essay questions. Essay questions? in Algebra? Geesh. Things have changed.

The kids are required to write out every step of the problem, correctly and get docked points if one thing is amiss. Even if the final answer worked out. Their teacher is a former university mathematics professor and very exacting.

Did I mention they'll have him for Honors Geometry next year as well? They're thrilled beyond tears.

Or in tears.

Whatever.

Kati spent 5 hours on her Algebra, while I was out running errands. I got home to her panicked voice.

"Mom, I'm not going to get my Physical Science final done in time."

"Uh, why not?"

"I finished my Algebra final and hit the wrong button to submit it. It's all erased. I have to start over."

Yikes.

Now, understand two things. This kid has worked her self ragged this semester brining her grades up after dragging her feet first semester. And she's done an excellent job. All A's except Algebra and Physical Science. She got within 2% of an A in both of these, so finals are critical.

Second, the school has made it abundantly clear that under no circumstances will any work by accepted after 3pm today. No way. No how. No matter what.

And it's 1:30.

I did what any mom would do- I picked up the phone and called her teacher. Begged for more time.

Success! Kati got a reprieve!

A whole day, in fact.

She was so determined though, to end it all today she got it all done this afternoon.

That's my girl!

So - school. is. over.

Done.

Finissimo.

And now, my baby boy is in high school.

And my baby girl will get her driver's permit in 4 weeks.

And their father is old.

hehe

Me? I just get prettier as time goes on.

Yeah. that's it.

Lawsie, Lawsie ....

Hey interpeeps!

Just hopping in from under the fun and games of finals week to say I'M! STILL! ALIVE!

Barely.

The last two weeks have been full of getting last minute assignments done, science experiments (some still growing in my fridge), studying for finals, no internet (Lord help me!), and finals for both kids.

And mom having to tutor Algebra, kindof, again.

I'm about done.

Toast.

Craving chocolate.

And a diet coke.

Oh, and sleep.

So, hope to be back when this is all over.

If you don't hear from me by Sunday?

Send the Search and Rescue

Thank you.

(PS: I have an exciting announcement to make once all this is settled, so be sure to keep checking back!)

Change.

Change sucks.

There. I've said it.

For years, I've spent my life preaching CHANGE IS GOOD! to my employees. totally bought it ot hte fact that change brings growth and  new opportunities. Embrace it! Love It!

Well now.

I'm tired of change.

I want things to stay predictable, steady and on course, I want to look at tomorrow, and not wonder what I'll have to rearrange. For the first time in my life, I just want to be complacent.

Sad. But true.

And because that just can't happen, change has again arrived at Cases do Living in Grace.

Changes that affect us in so many ways.

And so, besides trying to get everyone through the last 9 days of school, finals, summer plans, driving lessons, et al ... I've spent the last couple of days reworking sbudget, bills and plans for the future including evaluations at various clinics for transplant.

Realistically, Denver is out.  Mayo should be in by July. Phone calls are being made, plans changed.

I'm holding frustration at bay, barely, but my finger is in the dike.

More than ever, we are living in grace around here. Forcing oouselves to leave the details to God. Letting  let go of our plans,  and  trusting that His plans will work out.

It's a tough place to be. But, we are there and we will walk through. Crawl if we have to.

Reminding ourselves each step of the way that He is Jehovah Jirah - His Grace Is Sufficient For Me.

May Write Away Contest - "Legacy"

Scribit is hosting her May Write-Away contest, entitled "Shoes". I've re-published this post as my entry.

Daddy, this posted is dedicated to you and the shoes you left behind.

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I was 10.

The year was 19 ... well, what does it really matter anyway.

We sold the home I'd grown up in, The one with the huge fruitless mulberry that had grown up in the yard right alongside me. The one I'd spent days climbing, and resting in. It was my best friend. My dad was called to do ministry with some friends in Caldwell, Idaho, so he took a year's leave of absence from the TV station and up we went. Goodbye sunny California. Hello, potatoes.

We moved to a spot outside blinkandyoumissit Houston, Idaho. Five acres surrounded by an irrigation canal, and potato fields as far as the eye could see. We had a few acres of locust trees out back, where my new friend Heidi and I spent hours on hours building forts and playing games. There was a bunny hutch (no bunnies, though) and a chicken coop. To this city girl, collecting eggs was a treat. The smell of chicken poop? Yeah, not so much.

I learned to make snow forts and tunnels in the winter, and ran wild throughout the open ground. I started taking the bus for the first time ever, and remember racing down the extremely long driveway at the last minute every morning so I didn't have to stand in the drifts of snow. It was the year I learned to love hot, flavored oatmeal.

My dad worked at least two jobs the whole time we were there to make ends meet. One of those involved marketing for a radio station. On the morning of my 11th birthday, I distinctly remember being dragged into the kitchen of our mobile home and having to listen to the station where he worked. I was impatient to get on with the day. Anxious to get to school to see what celebrations lay ahead. Birthdays were a huge deal at West Canyon Elementary.

Suddenly, a familiar voice came on the radio. It was my dad! He had recorded a special commercial spot wishing me a Happy birthday! It was one of the most memorable gifts I've ever received. By the time I got to school, everyone was buzzing about it. They had all heard it that morning!

This was also the year I learned to drive. Since we lived out in the middle of nowhere, with no one but the potatoes to hurt, my dad started taking me out in our El Camino and teaching me the basics. I can't recall how many hours we spent tooling around the area, discovering new rods, hidden areas, new vistas.I learned to drive a stick, and we both lived to tell about it.  We would talk and talk and talk some more about anything and everything. Sometimes, we just rode in silence.

Only once during that year did I really blow it. While driving down our dirt road (probably a wee bit too fast), I looked away for just a second at something. Next thing I know. we're nose down in Farmer McJunkin's ditch. Farmer McJunkin and his son owned everything to the left of our property, while the prolific Bates family and it's gazillion sons owned the rest of the area to the right. Farmer McJunkin was out doing some farming thing on some farming tractor thing and came to our rescue.

Exactly one year to the day after we pulled into Idaho, we pulled out and moved back to California. Back to the life we had left behind. Except for one thing.

I kept driving.

Dad and I would go out of town aways on the weekend afternoons and drive. The area we went to had been discovered as a mining town, so there were tons of dirt roads through the hills to be discovered. Many times we would take a narrow, winding one lane road as far as we could only to discover that there was no place to turn around. so, we would switch places and Dad would back the car out. Sometimes it was a mile or more. in reverse. With nothing but air on one or both sides of the road.

There was one night when, coming home from youth group, he felt too sick to drive. We lived about 30 minutes away and it was straight LA freeway home. I think I was maybe 13. He told me to drive home- but be careful. I was petrified! The Freeway! At night! But, he talked me through it, all the way home. Through traffic, off ramps, stop lights. Everything. We got home in one peace. I think afterward he must have thought he was insane.

These were good times for us. I was becoming a teenager, with all that comes with it and we talked. Alot.

Tonight, we lit the torch of the flame we will pass along.

Tonight, when we got to the turn of our dirt road, John pulled over and let Kati take the driver's seat. My baby, my first born. The child that renewed my hope for being a mother after so much loss and heartache.

I sat in the passenger's seat and repeated the same words that my daddy told me so many years ago. They flowed out without me even giving it any thought. They flowed naturally. I could hear his voice, gone for almost three years now, flowing in my head.

Pictures flashed through my mind off dirt roads, potato fields, McJunkin's ditch.

And love.

And pride.

Although gone, his legacy lives in me. It's there every day as I raise my own children and guide them towards adulthood. He made mistakes along the way, and I've made even bigger ones. But I strive to fill the shoes he left behind. Sitting there, in my mind, heart and soul.

In two months, according to the laws of this state, my daughter can officially take her place behind the wheel of a car. It's just another huge leap forward in her young life. And for six months, she will be required to have either her daddy or I in the car alongside her. Teaching, helping, guiding. (Clutching, biting, screaming, praying).

And during those times, I hope I remember that it's precious time. Time to bond, listen and learn. Talk share and  listen. Keep my cool, let her goof up, let her remember. Make a memory.

It's all a build up to the time when she will be able to go out on her own. To a job, to college, marriage, family, whatever her path is.

I plan to relish in the moments of watching her become a woman.

Remembering that I have to let go.

Eventually, of course.

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For more great Write Away entires, visit Scribit : A Blog About Motherhood.

Goodbye 13! Hello 14!

GOODBYE 13 !!

Are you really another year older today?

It seems like yesterday, I was waddling around with a 14 month old anticipating your arrival.

Would I have enough love for both of you?

Could I share myself with two babies?

Being an only child, I have no idea how the whole "sibling" thing worked. And a boy? What would I do with a boy? I didn't know anything about boys...

I remember the day I found out you were a boy.

Because of my health issues, I had ultrasounds once a month. Every month, the tech swore fives ways to Sunday you were a girl. Every time.

Then, at 8 and a half months- a new tech announced "Congratulations! It's a boy!"

I was stunned.

I cried all the way home.

When I called your dad to tell him, he was elated, but could hear the fear in my voice. I knew nothing about raising a boy.

I felt like a complete and utter failure as a mommy for feeling that way.

Funny thing, though, I should have known you were a boy.

With Kati, we could only think of girl's names. With you, only boys.

Jonathan.

I loved that name. always.

I knew that it was a special name, meant just for you.

When I Was a couple of weeks away from having you, a dear friend was murdered in his driveway. A robbery. He left behind a legacy of faith in his wife and two sons.

And that is how you got your middle name. To honor his memory.

Michael.

The night before you were due by c-section, I felt sick to my stomach. I was thought they would surely skip the surgery and make me wait. I was sooooo ready to be done. I wanted to meet you. Hold you. Get to know you.

The morning of the surgery, we packed up and went to the hospital. after being hooked up to the monitors, the nurse announced I was in labor... Funny. I didn't feel a thing. Not a twinge, a pain. Nothing.

What she didn't tell us, was that I was in "pushing labor". Had I not been scheduled that day, the doctors were convinced I would have just dropped you at home. Without warning.

Wow. There's a thought.

We didn't realize you were crowning until it was too late. So, one doctor had to push you back up and in, while the other pulled you out through the incision in my belly. They said it was a first.

At that moment, I knew you would do things on your own time, ahead of the curve. And you haven't disappointed.

You've walked at 4 months, crawled at 5 months and ran at 7 months. You never "walked".

When you started speaking sentences at 17 months, we knew we were in for a ride.

You've been full of questions since that day. Always curious, always learning.

Talking is like breathing. Without it, you wouldn't survive. I truly believe God gave you more words, and you're determined to use them up. Every day. Without fail.

I love that about you.

I've learned so much watching and listening to you.

Your plans to join the Air Force worry me, but I'm proud. You follow in the footsteps of your grandfathers, and your daddy. Your desire to be a doctor, and help others, makes me proud.

I'm excited to see how you do in JrROTC next year. Excited to see you grow, become a leader.

But, I also celebrate that you still run to make sure I have a huge hug before I leave anywhere, or go to bed at night. That you hold my hand when we walk through a parking lot. That you open doors for people. And say "thank you".

You name means "Jehovah's Gift".

Truly, you are a gift to our family.

Happy 14th Birthday, Baby.

Thanks for being my boy.

HELLO 14!

 

Denial Is A River In Egypt ... or ... My Plans For the Weekend

This is what I aspire to this weekend.

Pure, unhindered denial and relaxation.

Accompanied by chocolate pudding and Dream Whip, a box of fruit loops and who knows, maybe some homemade fried chicken and mashed taters.

Cause this weekend is all about waiting. And not thinking about it.

Tell me, what is your favorite method of refuge? After all, I still have time to shop.

A bird in hand ...

... is better than one overhead.

Badadum.

Thankyouthankyouverymuch.

Anyway.

John is doing better today. He slept forever, and woke up feeling dizzy and abit disoriented, and rather weak, but the rest seems to haver resolved. We have to get another blood test done in the morning to see if anything definitive shows up. Hi last white count was over 17,000, so something is going on. However, no neck stiffness, so I'm standing on the fact that it's anything but meningitis.

Thanks to all of you for your prayers and support. I flat out told him he is NOT allowed to do that to me, ever. again.

Period.

End of discussion.

I can handle alot of things, but watching my husband lie on the bed and slip in and out of consciousness... well, no thanks.

I"ll take my family all tidied up and healthy, safe and snug here at home with me.

Thankyouverymuch.

Be sure to swing by tomorrow with your thinking caps on .. I need some help and I know my peeps will come through for me !!

Home From The ER

We just walked in the door from the ER, and what a fun time was had by all.

John came home from work with some pretty severe things going on, and the decision was made to hightail it to the ER.

Four hours, a head CT, xrays, EKG's and a ton of other things later ... the results were inconclusive.

At this point, we know his white cell count is over 17,000.

His head CT is mostly clear (although on the report it said there was a "possible small ...." something or another). The Resident  caught me reading over his should and folded the report before I saw the rest.

Creep.

They wanted to do a spinal tap to test for meningitis, as he had several of the symptoms, but not all. After receiving some meds for the nausea and headache, he wasn't in any condition to make any decisions so we re going to follow up with our doctor tomorrow, and if need be go back to the ER tomorrow for the spinal.

It is really hard being on this side of the bed, and seeing him sick. When it's me, I can handle it.

This, this was excruciating.

Hopefully, rest tonight brings some healing and relief for home overnight.