Reunion Photos

I just did a dumb thing. I went to my high school website alumni website to look at photos from my brother's 20 year high school reunion. He wasn't there, of course. But all his friends were, and I am in tears looking at them and wishing Jackson could have been there. Ugh. Why did I do that to myself?

I look at his friends, and see how they've aged. I wonder, yet again, how he would look now too. He should've been there. Dammit.

Bean Boozled

I found these "Bean Boozled" Jelly Belly jellybeans at the grocery store today. The box has many beans of various colors, but the catch is they don't all taste the same. Some are good flavors and some are downright NASTY. I bought two boxes at $1.19 each, and thought they'd be fun to try with Katie.

After dinner, I opened a box and we sorted the beans by color. Then we took the plunge and tried some of them. The first ones we tried turned out NOT to be pear. Guess what flavor they were instead? Booger. Oh, dude! Not quite sure that that's supposed to taste like, but it was disgusting all the same.

Katie decided to try the black ones next. They were either black licorice or skunk. She said they were skunk. Personally, I don't know how you could tell a difference. Katie tried a blue one and got toothpaste flavor instead of blueberry. Not too bad, I guess. We tried the white ones and I got coconut while Katie got the baby wipes flavor. Egads! The straw(s) that broke the proverbial camel's back were the ones that were either buttered popcorn or rotten egg. Yep... we got the eggs. Katie actually gagged on this one, so I figured it was time to stop. The remaining ones were too gross to even consider: vomit/peach, ear wax/mocha latte, or moldy cheese/caramel corn.

We put the rest back in the box, and maybe she can get Daddy to try it with her another time. Count me out! It was fun, but oh so yucky!

Our Story, Part VIII

(Go here for Part VII.) Y'all thought I forgot about Our Story, didn't you? Even though it's been a hectic last month, there's still lots to tell. So here we go!

Fast forward to the end of 1993. My parents had split up in mid-1993, and it was a rough year emotionally for me. But Dan stuck by me throughout all the turmoil. That doesn’t mean I didn’t try to mess things up by breaking up with him or playing games with him (testing his love for me). I did lots of that silly stuff. Thank God that Dan was forgiving enough and willing to put up with all of it.

The start of 1994 was when our relationship deepened. I look back through our notebook and our photos, and it was a time of gooey romanticism, date parties, and studying together. That summer was spent apart while I interned at a TV station in Atlanta. The end of 1994 was Dan’s last semester in college, and he graduated right before Christmas. Christmas break was a roller coaster: my first niece was born, and I met Maureen (my future stepmother).

1995 was even crazier. Dan had moved two hours away to Kansas City for his first job, and I was still in school. I was incredibly lovesick for him, and missed him so deeply. I was juggling my last year of school and a job, and we spent every weekend traveling back and forth visiting each other. Our phone bills were pretty big, and the distance tested our relationship because we had to put a lot of work into communicating in new ways.

That May, my parents’ divorce was final. Dad got engaged to Maureen, and the wedding was planned for July 1. It was going to be a very small wedding, with only relatives invited. Dad said I wasn’t allowed to bring Dan with me unless we were engaged by their wedding day. So when it came time to make my airline reservations, I asked Dan if he was going with me. (How’s that for putting him on the spot? I already knew we were going to be getting engaged at some point, but not when.) He said that he would be going with me, so I knew an engagement was pending.

In May, I also “graduated” from college (that means I walked through the ceremony, but I still had summer school to finish before I was done). Dad and Dan saw me walk across the stage to accept my diploma, then had to hustle to catch Dad’s flight before the ceremony was over. On the way to the airport, Dan asked Dad for my hand in marriage. I knew Dan was planning to ask (I told him there’s no way I’d marry him if he didn’t ask Dad first), and was so excited when he returned from the airport that night and told me he had asked – and that Dad had given his blessing. Then I sat back (or tried to) and waited (or tried to).

I knew Dan was going to propose during one of our weekend visits. And since there weren’t very many weekends left before July 1, I spent every weekend waiting for some romantic proposal to catch me off guard.

Find out what happens (C’mon, as if you don’t already know!) in Part IX of Our Story.

Student of the Week

Last Friday, Katie was selected as Student of the Week in her classroom. She walked off the bus all nonchalant, with the special blue ribbon pinned to her chest. I saw it and started running to her, screaming how excited I was for her. She broke into a run and jumped into my arms, and listened to me say, "I am so proud of you!" over and over. She was so happy!

I think every kid in Katie's class will eventually be named Student of the Week, but it's still a special honor for them all. They get to be second in line every day that week (behind the line leader), they get a special certificate and the blue ribbon and they get to pick a treat from a treat bucket. Best of all, the Student of the Week completes an "all about me" poster at home and brings it back to class, where it's displayed all week in the classroom.

Katie finished her poster on Friday night. I helped her by printing the photos, but she wrote and colored everything else herself. She was so proud of herself, and has worn her ribbon to school yesterday and today. I'm so proud of her too!

Can You Say...

I've been meaning to post this video of Jackson. I love that when I ask him to say "Jackson," he just pats himself - as if no words are necessary!

Corralling the Jumping Bean

Tuesday morning, I had enough. Our morning routine is to take a walk after Katie gets on the bus, then Jackson plays in the bathroom while I shower and get ready for the day. Our master bathroom has a separate tub and shower. It is completely babyproofed, down to latches on the cabinet, toilet lid locks, and GFI covers on top of the outlets. (Not just those little plug covers; these cover the entire thing.) The one thing that is not Jackson-proofed is the tub itself.

My sweet little baby used to sit nicely in the dry tub, playing with toys and babbling to me while I showered. Then he grew and learned how to climb out. He's been doing that for at least a month. Now he's taken to standing on the side of the tub, walking around it and sitting on the windowsill. Dear God. Y'all have no idea what this does to my blood pressure. I start my shower, glassed in and unable to jump out quickly to get Jackson out of dangerous situations. Usually I sternly and firmly say (okay, yell), "Sit down" and he will. In fact, he started to this past Tuesday. But as he was sitting, he lost his balance and fell into the tub. He hit his head and started screaming. I jumped out of the shower, grabbed a towel and jumped into the bath tub.

BAM! I was wet, y'all. Which means my feet slipped and my butt slammed into the bottom of the tub faster than I could even catch myself, with my right leg still sticking out of the tub. Ouch! Now I'm in pain, Jackson's screaming, I'm cold and wet, Jackson's bleeding somewhere in his mouth, so I just wrapped him in the towel and hugged him. He finally settled down and I finished my shower. But I was fired up (and in pain), and determined to find a way to corral the monkey.

So Wednesday morning, I dragged the Pack & Play into the bathroom (thank God we have a big bathroom) and attempted to assemble it while Jackson tried to climb the tub again. I already had a huge bruise on my right leg from Tuesday's graceful fall, and ended up getting another bruise just trying to assemble the freaking Pack & Play. (My arm strength isn't so great in the morning because of lupus.) But I got it assembled and put Jackson inside of it. He wasn't happy about that, but at least I could shower knowing he was safe.

This morning, Jackson sat in the Pack & Play and played nicely while I showered. The morning rush is much much better now. Thank God! I took some photos of him in his "prison," and he looked so cute. Please ignore the overall untidyness of the rest of the bathroom in the background! I never said I was a stellar housekeeper. My talents lie elsewhere. (At least that's the excuse I keep telling myself!)

Happy Birthday, Sister!

Happy birthday to my sister Mary! I hope you're having a great day today. I love you!

Raynaud's Syndrome

It's happening to me, which is not unexpected. Lupus patients sometimes get Raynaud's Syndrome as a secondary complication. Dad had it, so that's why I recognized it immediately when it happened to me the first time last week. I'm just amazed at how quickly it happened. All of a sudden I'm diagnosed with lupus and it's like my body took that as permission to go a little haywire.

The Raynaud's has happened about three more times now, and it's really quite weird. Whichever fingers are affected (it's been different every time so far) lose all feeling, and turn completely white. And it happens in almost an instant. Then when the fingers finally warm up again, they hurt with the "pins and needles" feeling. And they turn spotty blue before the pink finally comes back. It's kind of weirdly fascinating to watch it happen. The good news is that (from what I can tell online), mine is a mild case so far.

I am not looking forward to winter. My fingers already had a tendency to crack and split open in the past, and I'm sure it's going to be worse this winter. I am looking at some portable electric blankets to buy, and also some heated gloves. Hopefully I can minimize the outbreaks as much as possible.

Happy Birthday to My Brother

38 years old. That's how old my brother Jackson would have been today. 38?! It's hard to imagine the 26-year-old I knew as a 38-year-old now.

What would he look like? Would his hair be graying at the temples? Would he even have any hair left? How many wrinkles would he have? How many kids? (The two are directly proportional.) What job would he have now? Where would he live? What sort of music would he like?

I've got an idea. I'm going to do a little creative writing and invent the details of what my brother's life would have been like for the last 12 years. Indulge me, okay y'all? I imagine he would have beaten his cancer, and maybe stayed in the Army a few more years. I know he wanted to go back and teach at West Point, so let's pretend he did that for about four years. Then he and Bonnie would have been ready to have kids, and she would have wanted to move back to Kentucky where her family lives. So I'm gonna say he got out the military altogether and became a civilian. They had two kids, both adopted because of the cancer treatments: a boy named either Josh or Gabe and a girl named Elizabeth. (I hope y'all are still indulging me!) The kids would be six and three now. Jackson would have very little hair on his head, but what he has left would still be pretty dark. (The grays won't show up until he's in his mid-forties.) We'd talk on the phone about once every ten days or so. He'd be the owner of a small civil engineering firm, and he'd still like country music like Kenny Chesney, mixed in with some classic rock. I bet he'd like Kidd Rock, and I'd be able to harrass him about that. (I don't like Kidd Rock!) Jackson and Bonnie would live in a house out in the country, kind of like where she lives now. There would be enough room for my family and my sister's family to stay with them every other Christmas, which we would alternately dread and anticipate every time - dread because of the chaos of all the kids, and anticipate because of the time we'd get to spend together now that Mom and Dad are gone and us three siblings would be the only ones left. We'd spend holidays eating Dad's wild rice and Mom's sweet potato casserole and Bonnie's family dishes, and tell stories about how I killed Jackson's mice (accidentally) and how Jackson pushed me out of the treehouse and how Mary made the worst spaghetti when Mom and Dad were out of town. We'd commiserate about raising kids and toddler tantrums.

Ah... that was fun to dream and pretend. Sad, but fun. I hope he's having a good birthday, enjoying himself and his perpetually-young 26-year-old body. I miss him.

Fairy Houses

We have a new obsession. We read about making fairy houses in the October issue of Family Fun. This is, hands down, my very favorite magazine! (Go here for directions on how to make one yourself.)

On Friday I suggested to Katie and our neighbor Sammi that we should make a fairy house. Once I explained it to them and discussed what sort of things you could use to build a house and put inside it, they were off and running with ideas. I had to explain to them that you can only use items you find on the ground, and you can't pull things off trees. Fairies can tell what smells more like the ground instead of a tree, and they won't use a house that's been made of things pulled off their trees. So the girls set to work building a little hut for the fairies. Here's what they built.

You can see they found someone's trash floating down the street, and used a dryer sheet to support the roof leaf shingles (recycling at its finest). I also took a photo of the girls by their architectural masterpiece.

When Katie woke Saturday morning, she immediately started asking if she could go check the fairy house to see if any fairies stayed in it overnight. (You can tell if a fairy stayed in it because things will be out of place or the berries might have been eaten.) We finally checked it that afternoon, and everything was still in place. Bummer! So Katie set about making a new fairy house, and Sammi joined her again later. This time they used shovels to dig holes in the ground. I'm not sure why, but it made sense to them.

Today, Katie is outside supervising Dan's lawn mowing and also building yet another fairy house. I'm thrilled that her imagination is growing with this new obsession!

Go Tigers!

Tonight is the Mizzou vs. Oklahoma State game. Dan's excited to watch it, so I surprised him by getting Katie ready for the game too:

Doesn't she look fearsome?! I found this tutorial to show me how to do it. It was very easy!

Dan has always wanted to learn how to make balloon animals, and I really enjoy face painting. In fact, #29 on My Bucket List is "go to clown college." Not sure if I'll ever get to do that or not, but I think Dan and I could become clowns in our retirement. He could be a balloon sculptor and I could paint faces. At the very least, we'll be able to entertain the grandkids!

Good Writing

I found another example of Good Writing. Last night, I finished The Book of Lost Things by John Connolly. It's an odd tale, and I can't even explain it to you without writing a really long post and giving away some of the story. Just suffice it to say it's tied together beautifully at the end. I heard about it in the September 28 issue of Parade magazine. There was a blurb on author Nicholas Sparks. He named this as one of five novels that moved him most. The other four are: The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Safon, Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill, City of Thieves by David Benioff, and Gates of Fire by Stephen Pressfield. Not sure I'll read all of them (although Gretchen might like Heart-Shaped Box because the review says, "The rarest of novels-a fresh and original horror story that's frightening, not gory."), but Shadow of the Wind has been on my list for a while.

Anyhoo, here are my favorite quotes from The Book of Lost Things:

“Rules and routines are good, but they must give you satisfaction… Find routines that allow you to feel secure when they are done. You told me you have a new brother: look to him each morning. Look to your father, and your stepmother. Tend to the flowers in the garden, or in the pots upon the windowsill. Seek others who are weaker than you are, and try to give them comfort where you can. Let these be your routines, and the rules that govern your life.”

"We are not meant to know the time or the nature of our deaths (for all of us secretly hope that we may be immortal). Those who were given that knowledge found that they could not sleep or eat or enjoy any of the pleasures life had to offer them, so tormented were they by what they had seen. Their lives became a kind of living death, devoid of joy, and all that was left to them was fear and sadness, so that when at last the end came they were almost grateful for it."

And my favorite: "...for a lifetime was but a moment in that place, and each man dreams his own heaven."

Great Advice

My friend Joe sent me an email yesterday, encouraging me in my lupus fight. He also let me know some of the details of his life, and he's been going through a very hard time. His parents are ill, he's been ill, and his kids have been under the weather too. There's lots more to the story, of course, but I don't want to broadcast his entire private life to the public. Suffice it to say it's been a rough month for him.

But Joe ended his email with something that truly inspired me. I had to share it with you. These are his words:
"What a beautiful life we all are given! Sure, it's got some hurdles every now and then, but in the end, all rain does is make the flowers grow higher and prettier. I hope I get to share some of your flowers with you, and maybe spend some time playing in the puddles with you while it's pouring."

Dentists & Donuts

I expected today to be one of those days when I hate my job. It turned out to be fantastic!

I was dreading Katie's dentist visit. We have never had a good one, and the stress of the last two literally took about three years off my life expectancy. Our history at the dentist has involved tears, screams, anguish, and forehead-tapping (thanks to an awful dentist that we have since left). Today was Katie's checkup. I scheduled it for a day when Jackson was at Parents' Day Out, and planned ahead to have my own cleaning first. I figured if she saw me do it, she wouldn't be afraid. Of course that meant I had to keep my own fears inside and be the big adult. Ugh!

My cleaning went just fine. Thank God I didn't have cavities, because there is no way I could pretend to be a model patient if I was getting drilled. Katie watched my cleaning from a hygenist's stool and kept Denise (my hygenist) busy talking the whole time. She asked all kinds of questions about what Denise was doing and why, and asked why I have black in my teeth (fillings). When the dentist came in at the end, Katie was allowed to sit on my chest and look into my mouth while the dentist did the once-over. I wish I had a photo of that!

Katie's cleaning was awesome. She met Nancy (her hygenist) and bounced on back to the x-ray room. I thought sitting in the chair would be enough to start the tears (the chair has been an issue in the past), but there wasn't even a tremor of fear. She got her teeth x-rayed and Nancy allowed her to go back into the darkroom with her to develop the film. We moved on to the cleaning. Katie let Nancy polish her teeth with raspberry-flavored paste, and held the suction tube herself. She didn't like the gritty paste in her mouth (I always hate that stuff, so I don't blame her), but otherwise did fine. Nancy flossed her teeth then the dentist came to check her. He scraped some tartar off, and I saw her physically cringe and flinch a few times. I was expecting a protest, but then watched her literally take a breath and relax herself while the dentist finished. I was amazed. The last part was fluoride application, which was the worst part of all. Katie didn't like the sticky feel on her teeth, but only whined about it - no tears or screams. She picked out a pink balloon and two stickers, and we were done. I actually had tears in my eyes because I was so grateful that the visit went well. I was so proud of Katie! She kept telling me "I'm so brave!" and repeated it to strangers at different stores throughout the rest of the day.

We went straight from the dentist to McDonald's, even though it wasn't even 11am yet. But she wanted to eat and get the sticky fluoride feel off her teeth, and I told her she could pick anywhere she wanted to eat because she did so well at the dentist.

Later in the day, she got her big treat. I promised her a donut if she behaved at the dentist, so I took her to the local donut shop and let her pick one to eat. (She loves the donut shop, thanks to Daddy's influence.) Here's my brave, sweet, chocolately girl eating her just reward.

Gifts from a Five-Year-Old

Oh, the things a little five-year-old girl finds precious...

I'm typing on my blog while Jackson naps and Katie is in her room for quiet time. She comes down the stairs, and says, "Mommy! Look what I made for Jackson?" Can you see it in the picture and tell what it is?

She hands me a rock with a piece of tape on it. (She's been having a tape fest lately, thanks to this suggestion from Mad About Plaid Girl.) The tape is holding a tiny little drawing onto the rock. Apparently the drawing is of Jackson. She made the rock into a Jackson rock. I told her it was very nice. She said, "Yours is on your bedside table." I told her thank you for making me a rock too, and hugged her. She was so pleased with herself, and said, "I'm full of surprises!"

So, of course, we had to take photos of the rock so I could post the story on my blog. One day, she won't see treasures in an everyday old rock. So for now, I'm going to celebrate and cherish that part of my girl that still sees joy in the ordinary-ness of rocks.

Fun with the Kids

Some days, I hate my job. It's hard and it's a lot of work to be responsible for the well-being, manners, education, and civilization of my two children. Some days, I don't think I'm cut out to be a stay-at-home mom. But then I have days like yesterday and today. At dinner last night, I told Dan about our fun day and I could see his eyes change. I imagined he was thinking in his head, "I wish I could do fun things like that with the kids every day!" I realize how lucky I am to be home with my babies, and enjoy the cool stuff with them.

Yesterday, Jackson went to Parents' Day Out and Katie and I had an adventure. We went to the City Museum, which was closed. But the World Aquarium inside the museum was opened just for our mom's group. It doesn't look like much in this photo, does it? But, oh! It was fun! The kids got to touch animals like turtles, sharks, stingrays and rabbits. They saw a tarantula, an armadillo, otters, fish and snakes - including a two-headed snake. I touched the stingray too, and it was such a cool thing. There was a small stingray that kept swimming to the side of the tank and then gliding up the wall to the top of the water, almost like he was trying to climb up to us. He kept fluttering there, letting everyone touch him.

The aquarium also has these fish that are so unusual, called Doctor Fish. They have been trained to nibble dead skin off people. Some of us stuck our fingers in the fish tank, and they came to nibble. Can you see them in the photo? It was the weirdest feeling! Seriously. Weird. The kids crawled in a tunnel through the shark tank, and some moms joined them. We also got to play in the City Museum's Toddler Town before our visit ended.

After the World Aquarium, we grabbed lunch and went to eat it at Kiener Plaza. After eating, the kids enjoyed dipping their hands in the fountains and running amok while all the business professionals on their lunch breaks watched. We're such fun lunchtime entertainment! Here's a photo of me and Katie at Kiener Plaza.

Beth and I took some photos of Ryan and Katie at the top of Kiener Plaza, with the St. Louis Courthouse and Arch in the background. This is the spot that almost every St. Louis couple gets photos on their wedding day. We were trying to show Ryan how to dip Katie back like all the other wedding photos we've seen. Who knows? Maybe one day Katie will marry Ryan, and we can recreate this photo again. But it isn't likely to happen; Katie and Ryan already treat each other like an old married couple and bicker over every petty little thing. They'll probably be sick of each other when it comes time for marriage. Ha, ha!

Today was also a lot of fun. A local skating rink opened up for our mom's group, and the kids got to ride their scooters and bikes all over the rink. Some of the kids used their roller skates for a bit, but riding a bike or scooter indoors was too exciting and they spent most of their time doing that. The parents chased after the little ones and also danced to some of the songs on the sound system, like C'mon and Ride It (The Train), the Cha Cha Slide, the Macarena, and Hakuna Matata. We had lunch back at Beth and Sean's house, and the kids went wild playing with all the toys in the basement. Even better? It's a rainy day outside, and we are enjoying every minute of it with fun things like the skating rink and playing at a friend's house.

This week, I like my job. Think I can ask for a raise?

Managing

Have I mentioned lately how lucky, lucky, lucky I am? I guess it doesn't have much to do with luck, though. I am truly blessed, and oh-so-grateful for all the love I have in my life.

Let me explain why I feel this way. Last week after my three-day pity party, I woke up Thursday morning and decided to have a PMA (Dad's acronym for Positive Mental Attitude) and just move on to the good in my life. I realized there were some family and friends who didn't know about my lupus diagnosis, so I sent an email out inviting them to read my blog and find out the latest. I can't tell you what a wonderful reaction I got from so many people - professions of faith in my character and strength, encouragement for fighting lupus, and even a few compliments on my blog and my writing abilities. (You have no idea how much that made me glow!) In responding to lots of the comments and emails I got, I decided to make a separate folder on my computer and save some of those emails in a central location. Now when I have another hard day, I can read back over the words and gain strength from them. Thank you, everyone, for making my heart sing.

This week is a new beginning, and a break from last week's shock and despair. I'm back, y'all. I'm learning how to just live with the aches that come with lupus (which I've been learning anyway the last 3 months while symptoms set in). I'm adjusting to what I can and can't do. I'm learning how to manage things. I now know that I have to exercise every morning, to help loosen up my joints. I have realized that I can't skip ibuprofen at lunch time without paying the price in the afternoon (although it's still hard to remember). I'm trying to accept help more often (like letting Beth and Sean watch Katie last week or letting them feed us lunch), and I'm saying yes to the things that I know will inspire and uplift me (church with Jen on Saturday, even when I wanted to stay home and make s'mores). Dan has helped me by giving me all my medicines before he leaves for work in the morning. This has been awesome. He leaves so early and gives me the meds and water, and then I get to go back to sleep and doze while I wait for the meds - ibuprofen, specifically - to take effect. Dan has also helped me undress at night (get your minds out of the gutter!) because the range of motion in my arms and shoulders limits my movements, especially at bedtime. I'm adapting to this new way of life, and can't wait for the Plaquenil to kick in so I don't feel the pain anymore. Think how great that's going to be!

Katie has been a great help the last few days, too. This is her third and last week of cycle break before she returns to school on Monday. My favorite part of cycle break has been sleeping in each morning. She climbs in bed with me and we snuggle. She prays for me each morning, and we stretch and gently wake each other up. She also watches me (try to) clench and unclench my hands as I attempt to get rid of the morning achiness. This morning, she told me to wiggle my hands and "shake that lupus out." She's been helpful with Jackson, too. When he wakes, she goes into his room and reads to him while I slowly ease myself out of bed and get my workout clothes on. She helps me during the day, entertaining him while I make lunches and helping clean up toys. Of course, it could have something to do with my bribes of brownies after dinner. But I'll take what I can get!

So, I'm making progress this week already. Thanks for everyone's prayers and support. I can already feel it working, and I thank God for it.

I'm going to leave you with a quote that my friend Susan emailed me, and one I'm going to post on my bathroom mirror: "Remind yourself that you are not the general manager of the universe." I love that one! May it help me slow down and lessen the stress in my life.

Oh, one more thing! I have to share these two amazing photos I took of Katie last Friday. Have you ever seen a more beautiful child in your life? The one of her hanging with the sun behind her captures her spirit so well - she is glowing, and is full of light.

Lupus Walk

My team, Steele Butterflies, completed the Lupus Walk this morning (including an unexpected half mile). It was a good time, and nice to have Dan, Katie, Jackson, John (my father-in-law), and especially Catrina and Lizzie there with me. After the walk, we sat in the park and enjoyed the cool weather, and had a light lunch. It was so peaceful and uplifting.

Thank you also to those of you who donated to our team. We raised a total of $365 in ten days. Wow! Thank you, thank you, thank you to our donors. I know every dollar was given because of your love for me, or someone you know with Lupus.

As the weekend comes to a close, I'm feeling much better mentally. I'm ready to tackle Lupus head-on, and I've had time to let the shock wear off and let the fighter in me come out. A recurring theme kept popping up over and over this past week - during research I've done, conversations I've had, TV shows I've watched, and even last night's sermon at church: I have to slow down and reduce stress in my life. I'm not quite sure how that is going to manifest itself, but I know that I'm going to have to make a shift in priorities. I heard a quote this week: "You were not 'in the moment,' you were trying to get 'to' the moment." That's how I've been living my life: so busy busy busy and running from one task to the next. I need to slow down, be in the moment more, and learn what is necessary and what is just fluff. In yesterday's sermon, the pastor said Nehemiah knew "when to push and when to push pause."

During a song at church last night, one of the lyrics was "You are healing me." I needed to hear that! God is taking care of me, loving me, lifting me up on eagle's wings, and speaking to me through the people He's placed in my life.

Update

I don't know what else to title this post, because it's going to be filled with a hodge podge of stuff. Forgive me as I just ramble and give you some bullet points. It's the best I can do right now.

• First, let me start with gratitude. Thank you to those of you who have called me, met me for coffee, donated to my Lupus Walk team, posted comments, prayed for me, watched my kids, and just let me crumble the past few days. I am loved, and you have shown me that the last three days. Thank you.
• How am I feeling? Stunned. Shocked. Pissed. Achy. Overwhelmed. Alone. In turmoil. In denial. On edge. Lost. Scared. In a fog. Thankful. Inspired. Irritable. Weak. Empty. Unsure. Ugh. I'm tired of talking about it, and then I'm frustrated that I'm not talking about it. I'm contradictory right now, not making much sense. I'm worried. What if I pass it on to my kids, like my parents passed it to me? What if I brought this on myself with negative thinking? I keep telling myself to stop being a baby. I feel like I'm spinning my wheels. At least I'm not waiting for the other shoe to drop anymore. (A little gallows humor there.)
• I still have lots to learn about Lupus. One of the best resources I've found is the "About Lupus" section of the Lupus Foundation website. I know y'all have lots of questions about it too, so go read it. (That way I won't have to explain it over and over... when it's something I barely understand myself!) I'm also looking forward to the Lupus Walk on Sunday, and getting to meet others with Lupus. I'm hoping to get some direction and help. I feel like an idiot about the whole thing, like I don't know anything. There's so much to learn, and so many questions for my doctor. (Am I even seeing the right doctor anyway?)
• I'm praying. Lots. Asking God to help me feel Him. Asking Him to just hold me. Just hold me. I know He's bigger than this. I'm begging my parents to show themselves to me in some way, and help me feel their presence. You have no idea how many times I've wanted to call them the last three days. I did get to talk to my stepmother, and she helped me answer some questions, which was good. And she was pissed off for me, which was even better. (I've not heard her cuss like that in a LONG time.) But... if I could just hear Mom or Dad's voices. Oh. Let's move on from this topic, before I dissolve again.
• It could be worse. Yes, I keep saying that to myself. Especially when I heard the news on Monday (the same day of my diagnosis) that a friend/neighbor had a stroke last week. He's my age! Lupus is not so bad when I think of the other diagnoses out there. But, ugh. Is it wrong of me to not want anything? I talked to a woman at the Lupus Foundation about the walk on Sunday, and mentioned that I was just diagnosed. She said, "Oh, isn't it a relief? To know what's been going on and have a diagnosis finally?" Sort of, in a way, I guess it's a relief... but not like she meant. It's a relief to have a plan and medicine I can take, but it's also devastating because I saw my parents fight Lupus. I KNOW what it does. I think I'd rather be blissfully ignorant.
• And here's the contradictory part of me again: I'm lucky that my parents had Lupus. My diagnosis came much quicker than it does for other people. I've heard of people (like Mom) who spent years feeling like this before they finally got a diagnosis. I've only spent four months feeling like this. Lucky, lucky, lucky. Now if this darn medicine would just kick in and start working!

I think I'll stop there. I could keep going about all my worries and fears, but I'm going to get up from the computer, take my ibuprofen, and go focus on something else. Besides, Jackson is crying in his crib and I can't focus anymore anyway.

Wordless Wednesday

Here's a link to the Face Transformer. Warning: it may take a while to transform your photo. Good luck!
Wordless Wednesday

Some Days are Rainy

It's been storming today, outside and in my heart. Katie said, "I don't like the rain. Why is it raining, Mommy?" I told her some days are sunny and some days are rainy. We can't have sunny days every day.

As I said this, my eyes teared up. Oh, how that statement is so true: we can't have sunny days every day, can we?

My rheumatologist called early this morning. He received the results of my blood tests, and officially diagnosed me with Lupus. My ANA (antinuclear antibody) levels are positive, as well as my SM/RNP antibodies. The good news is I don't have any organ involvement; my kidney and liver functions are fine. But he said two of the four tests are positive, which puts me in the Lupus category. And then he said, "I'm sorry."

So... I don't know what else to say right now. There's not much I can say, I guess. "It could be worse" is the phrase that keeps coming to mind, but so does "I have Lupus." Over and over like a broken record in my head.

I'd appreciate your prayers while I take a break for a little pity party. Thanks, y'all.

Waffle Sundays

Years from now, I hope my kids remember Waffle Sunday with fondness. I copied the tradition from my sister, except their waffles are usually on Saturdays. But since that's my one day a week to sleep in, I'm not about to get up just to make waffles. So Sunday is our day!

Sometimes Katie helps me make the waffles. She pulls out our little red stool and gets her apron on, and helps me measure the ingredients and pour them in the mixing bowl. Then when it's time to pour the batter into the waffle iron, her favorite part is adding the chocolate chips. (It isn't Waffle Sunday without chocolate chips!!!)

Katie and I eat our waffles together, and Jackson has recently started eating them too. He's a smart boy; who would say no to chocolate chip waffles?! Here are some photos I took of today's Waffle Sunday.

Fifteen Years

Where were you 15 years ago? Where will you be 15 years from now? I can say, without a doubt (and God willing), that I will still be in the same place 15 years from now - in the arms of the love of my life.

Fifteen years ago today, Dan walked in to my life. (He then quickly walked out of it, but that was just a minor delay. Read more about Our Story here.) Fifteen years ago today, I had no idea the trajectory of my life was about to veer sharply in a new direction. I also had no idea that the one person who would love me unconditionally, the only person who's ever loved me the way I feel God loves me, was getting ready to set up camp in my heart.

Thank you, God, for bringing him to me. Thank you for each and every 5,475 days of my life that I have known this man. He has been the glue that has mended my broken heart back together countless times. He has brought me richness beyond value, understanding, laughter, patience, adoration, frustration, growth, security, strength, comfort, and two more loves of my life.

Thank you, God, for loving me and using Dan to show me how much.

"Sometimes I swear I live with an angel, sent from above to watch over me. He wears his love just like a halo. If he's not an angel, what else could he be? He wouldn't say he's anything special. Bet 'cha that's how all those angels are. But when he comes around miracles happen. I felt the first one when he touched my heart. Oh, I've never seen him fly. On the wings of love he carries me. Heaven-bound I'm mystified how with just one kiss he made me believe in angels. Though I've never seen him fly." (Fly by The Wilkinsons)

Tiger in Training

Jackson is so smart. He knows so many animal sounds already. What does a monkey say? "Ah-ah." (As in oooo-ooo-ah-ah.) What does a cow say? "Mmmmm." What does a snake say? "Sssss". What does a cat say? "Meeee." What does a duck say? "Ack." What does an elephant say? This one is just a motion where he brings his wrist to his mouth and extends his hand like a trunk. Sometimes he'll even blow some air like he's trying to imitate an elephant's trumpet call. He also does a motion of opening and closing his mouth to imitate a fish.

A couple of weeks ago, Dan started teaching Jackson a new animal. You know we're University of Missouri graduates, and the Mizzou Tigers have a BIG rivalry with the Kansas Jayhawks. So Dan's been teaching Jackson what a Tiger says and what a Jayhawk says. I finally caught it on camera tonight. We're so proud of our Tiger in Training!

Steele Butterflies

I decided to participate in the local Lupus Walk on October 5, which is coming up in just over one week. This was a decision I made after seeing my rheumatologist on Monday, so I'm kind of scrambling to get things together and organized. Before I made the decision, I emailed friends and family to see if anyone might want to join me. I got lots of positive feedback, so I decided to take the plunge.

My friend Catrina is going to walk with me, and her sister is also joining us. I have one or two other friends who are considering walking with me too. I am excited to have their support!

Catrina and I decided to name our team Steele Butterflies. Steele is my maiden name (so that part of the team name will memorialize my mom and dad). The Butterflies part of the name is because butterflies are the symbol for the Lupus Foundation, and also something that reminds me of my mom (she made a comment about becoming a butterfly when she was in hospice).

If you'd like to read more about the Lupus Walk or Steele Butterflies, or if you'd like to participate in some way, just check out our team website. Thanks!

My First Award

Oooo, I'm so excited! I got a very nice award from my friend Scarlet O'Kara. She picked me as one of five favorite blogs that she enjoys. It's the first bloggy award I've ever received. I feel so loved! Thanks, Scarlet. Here's the award:

So now I have to pick five blogs to present the award to. Hmmmm... hard to decide! I'm tempted to pick my friend Danielle's blog, but I think I've mentioned her about a million times already (haven't I?). So I'll try to mention some "new blood." And I'm making myself narrow them down by naming only blogs by people that I know personally (in person, in real life). Here goes!

AbFab Geek: My friend Robin writes this one. She cracks me up almost every time I read it, because she writes the same exact way that she talks. I can hear her voice in my head when I read her words. It's weird. She is so funny and also such a geek, but in a good way. I love that because she's knowledgeable and informative. I like people who are life-long learners.

Life in the Burbs: Sarah is a new friend I met through my mom's group. I've only known her a short while, but I keep telling her I will get along well with her. We have a lot in common, and she is real and down-to-earth.

Catrina's Thoughts from the Fire: Catrina is a former co-worker from my days before I became a SAHM. She's the first person I ever knew with a blog. She's one of the most tenacious people I know. I can call her with any question and if she doesn't know the answer, she won't rest until she finds it. I always tell her she's like a dog with a bone.

Are You There God, It's Me Brina: Brina is my friend who moved from Missouri to Florida. The first time I met her, I knew we would be more than acquaintances. She was one of the few people I knew who had suffered enormous loss, so I was drawn to her immediately.

Where the Wild Things Are: Jennifer is another friend from my mom's group. She just started a blog a week ago, so I'm hoping you'll go visit her and welcome her to the world. She and I always joke about how we can be blunt and straightforward and sometimes scare people off. I'm often quoting her to other friends, telling others about some hormonal link or bit of information she's passed along to me.

So, there you go. Can't I have honorable mentions? There are so many others that I don't know in person, but read daily (My Garden Hat, World's Greatest Mommy, Southern Grits & Tidbits, Gretchen's Travels). Oh, well. Know that you are loved, just the same.

Thanks again, Scarlet!

Watching Barney

I avoided the purple dinosaur when Katie was little. But I decided to Tivo an episode for Jackson after he found a stuffed Barney he likes playing with, and he also likes when I sing the "I love you" song to him. We watched the episode tonight. Katie was mad at first, saying, "But I don't watch Barney!" but then ended up engrossed in it, and Jackson LOVED it. He was bouncing around the living room, spinning and dancing to the songs. He kept running up to the TV, pointing at Barney and saying, "I see it." Dan caught some of the action on camera, and it makes me smile to see Jackson so happy!

I Already Knew

I paid the rheumatologist a $40 copay today to tell me what I already know: I'm having symptoms of MCTD.

No, I wasn't diagnosed with anything. I had more blood drawn for tests which I'm sure will be positive, like they were in January. (Not being pessimistic; I already had positive results, and things like this don't change back to negative.) The doctor put me on Plaquenil, which is the main drug prescribed to patients with autoimmune disorders like Lupus and MCTD. He said it'll take about 2-3 months before the Plaquenil kicks in and I start to feel some relief from the joint pain and tiredness. I took my first one tonight, hoping the 2-3 months will go quickly.

I asked the doctor what the difference is between Lupus and MCTD. He said some doctors don't think there is a difference, but he does. He said the main difference is an antibody found in Lupus patients that isn't found in MCTD patients. The other difference is Lupus can affect the brain and liver, while MCTD doesn't. I asked how he knows someone has progressed into the stage where the disease is considered active. He said the person will have positive test results and also start showing symptoms. I guess it's as simple as that. As for my symptoms, the doctor said to take Advil or Aleve three times a day, plus the Plaquenil. If I am still in a lot of pain, he can start a round of steroids like Prednisone. I go back to see him in 8 weeks. And that's that.

I know the next thing y'all are champing at the bit to know is how I'm feeling about all of this. I'll admit that I cried as soon as I left the doctor's and called Dan. (I'm proud of myself for not crying in the doctor's office!) I don't want to go down this road. It sucks. I don't want to be on meds for the rest of my life. (And especially NOT Plaquenil - it has a sordid history and was a major issue between me and Mom.) It. Just. Sucks. That's all there is to it.

And then I take a step back and tell myself that I've gotta do whatever it takes to feel better. If it means medication forever, then so be it. And I tell myself it could be worse. It could be the C word, or some other awful disease or disorder. Thank God it isn't. At least now I have a game plan, and I'm doing something instead of sitting around on my butt just waiting and hoping that I'll miraculously start feeling better. God knows what He's doing, and is working through me through this. I have faith in that. I already knew what the doctor was going to say anyway. And I already know how this is all going to end. It's my choice on how I want to live with it, right?

P.S. In talking to Dan about this just now, I had an epiphany. The main reason I'm upset about any of this is because I have a big fear of turning in to my mother. So I need to keep reminding myself that no matter what diagnosis I might get, it's not going to be a diagnosis of, "I'm sorry. You're Brenda." I need to let go of that fear. I am not my mother.

Good Writing

There are some things in this world that I absolutely love. Things that will make my heart hum like a tuning fork. One of them is a great choir. How can you not help being caught up in dozens of voices singing different parts of one song? Another of those things is good writing. And I mean GOOD writing. The kind of writing that makes me say, "Man! That is so true! I feel those words, and they were put together exactly right without wasting even one tiny letter." The kind of writing that pleases even the anal-retentive English teacher hidden in my heart.

This anal-retentive English teacher is the reason I have a little compulsion I'd like to admit. Whenever I read a book, sometimes I come across a sentence that is GW (Good Writing). I mark that sentence, either with an indentation of my fingernail or one of these handy Book Darts. After I finish the book, I sit down at my computer and type the sentence into a Quote Library that I keep in an Excel spreadsheet. (The spreadsheet currently has 1,197 quotes in it, but they're not all from books. Some of them are ones I fell in love with through Reader's Digest or elsewhere.) If a book had several pieces of GW, then I open a Word document dedicated to that book, and type up the multiple examples of GW there. (I currently have 102 files like this on my computer.)

I felt compelled to confess my odd little habit after I just finished typing some great quotes from the book Nineteen Minutes by Jodi Picoult. She has a way with words. For example:

"Like always, he made her head swim with seasons – his hair was all the colors of autumn; his eyes the bright blue of a winter sky; his smile as wide as any summer sun."

"She thought of Sam, how she’d left him sleeping this morning in his crib. During the night he’d kicked off a sock; his toes were plump as early peas; it was all she could do not to taste his caramel skin. So much of the language of love was like that: you devoured someone with your eyes, you drank in the sight of him, you swallowed him whole. Love was sustenance, broken down and beating through your bloodstream."

"Alex thought of all the parties she’d ever gone to where the first question she was asked was What do you do? as if that were enough to define you. Nobody ever asked you who you really were, because that changed. You might be a judge or a mother or a dreamer. You might be a loner or a visionary or a pessimist. You might be the victim, and you might be the bully. You could be the parent, and also the child. You might wound one day and heal the next. I’m not perfect, Alex thought, and maybe that was the first step toward becoming that way."

"Everyone would remember Peter [a high school shooter] for nineteen minutes of his life, but what about the other nine million? Lacy [his mother] would have to be the keeper of those, because it was the only way for that part of Peter to stay alive. For every recollection of him that involved a bullet or a scream, she would have a hundred others: of a little boy splashing in a pond, or riding a bicycle for the first time, or waving from the top of a jungle gym. Of a kiss good night, or a crayoned Mother’s Day card, or a voice off-key in the shower. She would string them together – the moments when her child had been just like other people’s. She would wear them, precious pearls, every day of her life; because if she lost them, then the boy she had loved and raised and known would really be gone."

Wow. Sometimes I tell myself that the reason I keep these samples of GW is in the hope that one day I might be a writer, and can use them to help school myself on what GW should look like. Maybe I'll re-read these quotes to help my creativity flow and crash through some yet unknown writer's block. Or, maybe I'm just kidding myself and the truth is I really do have OCD. I guess it could be both!

Conferences, Breaks & Pirates

Last night, we had our first parent-teacher conference. Didn't know what to expect, but it went well! The teacher referred Katie to the Firecracker program, which is the Kindergarten version of Spectra - our school district's gifted program. It doesn't mean she's gifted, just that she might get tested for the Spectra program when she turns six. That made my heart swell with pride! Then the teacher gave us her report card, and Katie got 3s in every area except one. (The new report cards grade on a scale of 1 to 3.) She got a 2 in music, under the "behavior and participation" section. Her teacher didn't know why because she didn't ask the music teacher, but she guessed that maybe it's because Katie sometimes has a fear of failure. She has noticed that there are times that if Katie thinks she might not be able to do something well, then she doesn't want to try it at all. (Oh, God! Did I do that to her?! Have I been riding her too hard?) The teacher said the thing is that Katie shouldn't doubt herself at all because she is so advanced already. Dan and I told the teacher we have noticed Katie's fears too, and we discussed ways to encourage her or phrase things to help her believe in herself. She also showed us a reading test she gave Katie with a Level C book, which is first-grade level. Katie got 91% of the words correctly, and would have gotten 98% except she kept substituting didn't for don't. Wow. Our girl is amazing the heck out of us.

Today was the first day of cycle break for our school district. We have year-round school, so the kids go nine weeks on, three weeks off. Today started the first three-week cycle break. I think the best part of my day was sleeping in, since we didn't have to catch the bus. At 7:30, Katie crawled in to bed with me and cuddled while I dozed off and on. It was wonderful. She actually held me, and brought her favorite animal to bed to cuddle with me too. I am in love with her!

Did you know that today is Talk Like a Pirate Day? I took the kids to the carousel, where kids who were dressed like pirates got to ride for free. Jackson wore a shirt with a pirate dog on it, and his pirate doo rag/skull cap. Katie wore a pirate hat and a hook. She enjoyed riding the carousel, but Jackson wasn't so fond of it and clung to me the whole time. Can you see his look of worry in the photo?

After the carousel, we played in the nearby park and I got some good photos of the kids. I'm looking forward to spending the next three weeks of cycle break with Katie and Jackson: together, just like "old" days!

I'm a Believer!

After Tuesday's post about my joint pain, I truly am a believer in prayer. (I already was prior to that too, of course! You know what I mean.) That morning after I posted, I still felt so crappy and was having a pity party for myself. On the way to a playgroup, I had a stern talk with myself. I said, "Self, get over it. Here's the best news of the day: you are ALIVE. Breathe it in, let go of the pain, and appreciate the fact that you have the grace you need and all the love in the world to get you through the day." Or, as my fave quote from The Shawshank Redemption would put it, "Get busy living or get busy dying." I decided to shift my focus.

I think Katie's kisses also helped me on Tuesday. I woke her Tuesday morning and laid in bed with her, pillow talking. She rubbed my right hand, which was aching badly. I told her it ached, so the blessedly sweet child took my hand in hers, lifted it to her lips, and kissed every single finger. She takes my breath away sometimes, when the veil is lifted and I can see how raw and pure her heart is.

But, mostly, I think prayers have helped. Katie and I prayed for me to feel better at the end of our morning pillow talk, and then I asked for your prayers in my post. By late Wednesday morning, I felt tremendously better. Same thing yesterday and today. Almost so good that I entertained the thought of cancelling my rheumatologist appointment. And then I remembered that I can't avoid it forever and I am still having severe pain upon waking in the morning, so I'm sticking to my plan to see the doc on Monday.

Thank you for praying, and sending love and good thoughts my way. I'm praying for a relaxing weekend, a huge weight loss at Weight Watchers in the morning (ha, ha!), and relief from pain until Monday (at least). I hope y'all have a good weekend too!

Our Story, Part VII

(Go here for Part VI.)

I’ll try not to bore you with all the petty details of 1993, my first year with Dan. But there are a few points worth mentioning.

After my trip to Israel in March 1993, Dan and I started a little ritual. I bought a notebook in Israel, and decided to use it to write Dan every few days. I would write a note in it, then pass it to him. He'd write me back, then pass it to me. It's been missing in our house for a few years, but I FINALLY found it yesterday, stuffed into a trunk where Dan keeps all the letters I've ever written to him. It's interesting to read and see how insecure I was about Dan's love for me. If I had only known that his love would be one of the few constants in my life, our early years together would have been so much more enjoyable! Hmmm. Anyway, this notebook chronicles our breakups and makeups, poetry we wrote to each other, silly nicknames (Tigerpaw?!), external events, funny comic strips, worries, and the growth of our friendship. On July 25, 1993, I wrote: "You have loved me harder, longer, and sweeter than anyone has in my whole life and I am so grateful for that!" We were so silly in love with each other sometimes and so crazy stupid other times, when we almost messed things up pretty badly.

One of those times can be summed up with one word: lavalier. (I know Dan is groaning as he reads that word.) First, let me explain. A lavalier is a pendant with a sorority or fraternity’s Greek letters on it. Not a big deal. Except that when a guy gives a girl his lavalier, that’s kind of like a pre-pre-engagement. Not as engaged as a diamond ring nor as pre-engaged as a fraternity pin, the lavalier comes before a pin or a ring. It kind of just means that you’re really really going steady. Silly, huh? Seems like it now, 15 years after the MAJOR fights I picked with Dan over the stupid lavalier. We even broke up over it because he wouldn’t give me his stinkin’ lavalier and therefore I assumed that meant he didn’t want to commit and didn’t love me and all that boo-hoo drama.

And then, finally, that October Dan lavaliered me. We were having dinner at Katy Station, a nice restaurant in Columbia. I was thrilled and overjoyed, and I’m sure he was dreading it because of all the stuff frat boys do to each other after they lavalier a girl. Like tying them to a ladder in their underwear, pouring dinner leftovers on them, parading them through Greek Town, then leaving the poor guy on the front lawn of the girlfriend’s sorority house. Luckily, Dan avoided that because he didn’t live at the fraternity house by that point. Phew!My sorority had a candlelighting ceremony where I announced my lavaliering, then I wore that lavalier everywhere. (See it in the photo?) I loved knowing that I was Dan’s and that he was mine.

Check back later for Part VIII of Our Story! And if you start writing your own version of Our Story (like Catrina did), let me know because I'd love to read it!

Real Mothers

I got this in a forwarded email today, and it rang true to me. It came at a perfect time, when I wasn't feeling like much of a mother. Hope y'all enjoy it too!

REAL MOTHERS
Real Mothers don’t eat quiche; they don’t have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried Play-Doh doesn’t come out of shag carpets.
Real Mothers don’t want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask, “Why me?” and get their answer when a little voice says, “Because I love you best.”
Real Mothers know that a child’s growth is not measured by height or years or grade. It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mom to Mother.

Joint Pain

I haven't posted in a few days for a couple of reasons.

First off, we had a busy weekend. We went down to the campsite on Saturday to play in the river and on the playground, but we didn't camp because of the pending thunderstorms. We met our friends Beth & Sean at Incredible Pizza that night, and Katie and Ryan had a blast playing all the games. (The adults did too!) They spent the night with us, and Katie and Ryan tried to camp in a small tent in her room. Didn't last long, and they both ended up sleeping outside the tent. Sunday was LOTS of rain, so everyone decided to stay put and hang out at our house. Dan cooked a huge pot of white chili (still using your recipe, Maureen!), and we let the kids watch way too much TV. They were little TV addicts by the end of the day.

The other reason I haven't posted much lately is because I've been feeling pretty crappy. Remember the joint pain I've been mentioning for a while now? I thought it was the new bed we got, so we returned it and got a different one. It helped for a few days, but I'm back to being in pain almost every day. I seem to feel best between 10am and 6pm, when I'm most active. But the evenings and mornings are killing me. And when Jackson wakes at night, I can hardly get out of bed to go to him because my body is in such pain. Sunday night, he was up five times and every time I was almost in tears from just trying to get out of bed. Last night Dan was on duty, so I had to get up only once - when my alarm went off and the day started.

On Labor Day, the pain was so bad that I caved and said I'll go try my chiropractor as a last resort before going to the rheumatologist. (More on the rheumatologist in a moment.) The chiropractor adjusted me and did lots of accupressure on different joints and gave me accupressure tips I could do at home. He also started me on a heavy dose of fish oil called EPA-DHA 6:1, which is basically six times the EPA in normal supplements. From what I understand, studies show that a large dosage of it will help with pain. So I told my chiropractor that I'd try one bottle. After seeing him the first time, I felt better the next two days. But it hasn't lasted, even though I've seen him at least 3 times a week for the last two weeks. I still feel like crap, so I called my rheumatologist last week.

I saw this rheumatologist for the first time in January, after I got some routine tests to check things like my cholesterol and lupus "markers." After my parents' diagnoses (Mom's lupus and Dad's mixed connective tissue disorder) years ago, I've had my levels checked now and then to make sure I'm in the normal range. This time, I was a little elevated. So the rheumatologist ran some more tests, and basically told me I have the markers for MCTD, which is what Dad had. He said I may never show symptoms (I wasn't at the time, except that sometimes it was hard to open a jar of something - my grip wasn't as tight as it used to be), or it could be years until onset. He told me to contact him if I started showing symptoms, and said there's really nothing I can do to avoid getting MCTD. Great news, huh? I called him last week and I have an appointment to see him on Monday, 9/22. I've been avoiding it for as long as possible, maybe because I fear that if I go I'll have to start medication for the rest of my life, or because I fear I'll be diagnosed like Mom or Dad. I really don't want to go down that road, but now I have to admit that I can't keep living like this.

My body hurts, and I'm not enjoying life at the moment. I'm yelling at the kids (yesterday morning had all three of us in tears before the bus came, and I carried a residue of guilt on my shoulders all day long), and I can't pick Jackson up sometimes. I feel old and decrepit, and don't like having to take a break from my normal routine.

So... all of this is to explain why I haven't blogged much lately. (It hurts to type sometimes too, by the way.) And all of this is to ask for your prayers for me. I'm usually better at praying for others and not asking for prayers back, but this time I think I need to be the "taker" and not the "giver." I just need grace to get through the next 6 days until I see the doctor and can figure out what might be wrong.

Thanks, y'all! For listening to me whine and complain, and for your prayers.

2008 Scrapbook

I'm Still Here

I haven't fallen off the face of the earth - it's just been a busy week! We had school events on back-to-back weeknights, and enjoyed the (mostly) dry weather on other evenings while playing outside with the neighbors. Tonight Katie tagged along for soccer practice, again with the neighbors, and seemed to have lots of fun playing goalie. Any spare time I've had in the last two days has been spent trying to catch up on my 2008 scrapbooking. I actually made a dent and got all the way through our trip to Vegas in May. See the slideshow in the post above? (I can't figure out how to make the HTML appear inside this post, and I'm too tired to waste any more time working on it.)

We are *possibly* going camping tomorrow, but it looks like the rain might ruin our plans. Tonight was spent discussing every option, packing some gear, and getting all the fixins for s'mores. Yum!

I'll leave you with some photos from this past week. I'll be back later this weekend to let you know if the camping was a go!

Coping

An old coworker friend called me last week, and we talked for an hour about the grief process. Her mom died six years ago and she is having a hard time coming to terms with the loss. She wanted to know how I've handled the grief process since I've done it three times now. She said I am an "inspiration" to her because of how "normal" I've turned out. Oh, Lordy. If only she knew.

I was quick to clarify that "normal" is relative. And the way I am today does not genuinely reflect all the years of grief, anxiety attacks and fears that I had after my family members died. I may have come through it all looking okay, but there are still huge rips in the fabric of my soul. Let this be a lesson: the way someone appears on the outside and the way they actually are inside are often two completely separate things.

I think the difference is I choose to focus on living instead of dying. Although, trust me, I have also done lots of focusing on the dying part too. I have my funeral (mostly) planned out, and often think of what I'd like to leave behind - which is yet another reason I started this blog. Besides, what normal 30-year-old asks friends to commit to speaking at her funeral, and tells those said friends that she'll "renegotiate" their contracts every five years?

I digress. Back to my friend, C. I know she called me for help, but I feel like I also got help by talking to her. I believe that when someone goes through something, whether it's divorce or a bad customer service experience or postpartum depression or a life-altering illness, it is your responsibility to share what you've learned with others who are crossing the same bridge. I believe that it's our God-given duty to help each other. It states in the Bible in Galatians 6:2, "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." Y'all who know me know that I don't often quote Scripture, but this is one that is worth quoting, especially in this context.

I was blessed (or cursed, whichever way you see it) to learn about the fragility of life at the early age of 22. My brother's death forever changed my thinking, and I realized that I am now in a lonely fraternity of others who have lost close loved ones (not people like grandparents or old aunts and uncles). Before my brother's death, I had no idea how sad a birthday could be. I didn't even think to remember the anniversary of a friend's sibling's death. Back then, my thinking was, "Who would be so morbid as to keep remembering a death?" Oh, how I have changed. Until you've lost someone incredibly close to you, you have no idea how comforting it is to hear from a friend that they remember that person too. Just to get a card or a phone call or a mention of your loved one on those emotional days is loving beyond measure. It makes you feel less lonely knowing that someone else is keeping your loved one alive in their hearts too.

In talking to my friend C, I found it hard to pinpoint one exact piece of advice for her about how to process her grief. I told her the one thing that doesn't help, and that is the "just get over it" advice that the world likes to cram down your throat. I told her that no matter what, she'll never "just get over" a major loss like the death of her mother. But she can learn to live with it, and still have joy in her life despite the sadness.

For four years after my brother died, I barely processed my grief. I thought the only time I was "allowed" to grieve him was in October, the month of his birthday and his death day. Can you imagine trying to hold back a flood of emotions by only letting out a trickle of tears twice a year? Now you know why I started having anxiety attacks, and my walls started crumbling in the year 2000. Finally, near the end of that year, I started seeing a Christian counselor. I continued seeing her for almost three years, and I credit her for a majority of my "recovery." Talking about my pain was excruciating at some points, but each telling of the story lessened it by just a teeny tiny bit. And talking to others (Dan, my friends, coworkers, my family) helped me process some of the pain. I told my friend C that the number one thing she HAS to do is to talk to someone. Not necessarily a counselor (although I think that is a vital part), but maybe a support group or a trusted friend.

The second thing I told C was that she needs to exercise. Exercise releases natural endorphins, and can help take the place of anti-depression medication (in some instances, but not all - of course). Exercise begets sleep, which can be hard to come by when you're grieving. Exercise also makes you feel alive at a time when you feel numb or you feel like your heart has been ripped out of your chest.

The third thing I suggested was writing: a journal, a blog, or maybe even letters to the dead. I know writing isn't for everyone (it feels like breathing for me), but it is cathartic to empty the swirling thoughts out of your head.

Lastly, I told C to use music as a tool to help her cope. You might scoff, but I have a "Grief Songs" playlist on my iPod. There are songs that were my loved ones' favorites, as well as depressing songs and also songs about reuniting. The 36 songs include "Go Rest High On that Mountain" by Vince Gill, "Can You Hear Me When I Talk to You" by Ashley Gearing, "Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again" from Phantom of the Opera, and "Who You'd Be Today" by Kenny Chesney. These types of "grief songs" help me at the times when I just need to cry. And sometimes, I need songs to help uplift me and remind me to go out and LIVE. That's a whole separate playlist! Music has become a dependable way for me to ride my emotions. Besides, nothing beats driving in the car, singing my lungs out with the music cranked at max volume. It's good for the soul.

So... there you go. Those are my four ways of coping. The reason I'm blogging about this is because I know there are some of you out there who read my blog and who have gone through the death of a close loved one. I am hoping that you will take a moment and leave a comment to let me know what ways you have coped with your losses, or maybe even suggest more grief songs. That way we can all bear one another's burdens. If we share our grief, it makes the load much easier to carry.

Happy Birthday, Hooney!

I wish I could buy you an amazing birthday present. Something that would show you the depth of my love and pride in you. I guess a sweet little note on my blog will have to do!

There are still days, after knowing you for 16 years, that I stare at you in shock, amazed that you are my husband. I watch your strong arms hold our daughter, and my heart liquifies into a puddle of pure love. When I see you tickle and wrestle with our son, it makes me laugh out loud. And I know that you know I am watching you. You always turn to me and glimpse the raw emotion in my eyes. And then you shrug it off. No big deal. Yeah, right.

You, my Hooney, are a big deal. You cause my sun to rise and set, and nothing in my life is worthwhile unless I'm sharing it with you. My girlfriends and sister help sustain me, but you fulfill me. I am overly in awe of you, abundantly in love with you. Every day I pray that God keeps you safe and brings you home to me, because a life without you would be... would be... Oh, Lord. Please don't even make me consider it.

Happy birthday to my hero, my best friend, my lover, my provider, and my Hooney.