heavy

I've already said I am a follower of several blogs here in cyberspace.

And, sap that I am, I often find myself emotional over the stories I read of those trying to use mere, imperfect words to describe their emotions. It's not easy. Trust me, I'm an English teacher. I know.

Unless one were to live with a dictionary and thesaurus as their left and right angel, there will likely never be the perfect writer. At least not on first draft.

But life doesn't seem to have time for drafts and rewrites. And sometimes, the first draft - mere, imperfect words and all - is exactly what needs to be said to get the point across.

And as I putz around my house complaining about all the things everyone stepped over instead of picking up, pushed around or piled instead of putting away, ignored instead of cleaned, and avoided with closed doors instead of acknowledging and straightening (including me), I realize that if clutter and dust are what is troubling me most, I truly am blessed. [wow, there's a lot of comma action in that sentence... should I check it for a splice?]

You see, I am typing this because I am tearful. I browsed on over to MckMama's blog hoping to find some happy homecoming post about little Stellan, and instead found this. I've been tired before. I've been exhausted. But my "tired," and my "exhausted" weren't MckMama's tired. And though she gives details of all the things making her tired, the undercore of this unrest she is in is that she is truly, madly, deeply, helplessly, uncontrollably in love with a little boy who is fighting for his life right now. Her heart, like the quote says, is outside her body. It is willing Stellan's to get it together. It is working for two (or maybe for five, as there are three other little ones who share their Mama's heart).

Everyone claims to talk with God - and my daughter's conversations seem to draw His listening ears pretty often. We don't know His plan. We ask that His will be done for Stellan. But at the same time, I can't help but also pray that He eases the strain on MckMama's heart right now.

It is a blessing to have children. It is an honor to be entrusted with raising another life. It is emotional, it is selfless, it is exhausting. But no mommy should have to be tired when all she wants is to be a mommy.

And so I think my prayers for the McKinney family are going to change a little today. I'm praying not only for strength and healing, but for energy to fight for Stellan and with Stellan as they make difficult decisions about his care and are forced to trust the medical team working on his case. May God's will be done, and may His mercy be demonstrated in their lives.

30 weeks new...

Guess who is just two days shy of his
official 7th un-birthday?

If you said "Ya is!" you're absolutely correct!

Today marks 30 full weeks of life (as of 2:20 p.m.). And we are so tremendously happy to have him in ours.

Oh, and in the next week we expect to see a fully exposed tooth, as the first glimpse of the little bud has already broken through the gumline!

Big sister Chi is thriving in her new responsibility and has truly shined as the eldest child. No one cares more for little Ya, no one soothes him quite the way she does, and no one makes Ya more happy with her mere presence in his sight.

This is my little princess and she's always gonna be my star:

Secret Motive?

My little girl has the most interesting mind I've ever encountered. Never does she cease to amaze me with her introspection, her analysis, her wit. This morning was no exception.

You see, Chi was with me on April 16 when I had a terrible accident courtesy of a fickle Fire SUV playing with his lights and an overly cautious SUV that decided stopping in the middle of an intersection was a safer "move from the path of the emergency vehicle" than was continuing through the light at the speed of travel and clearing the turn path the vehicle would travel through. I was cited, because I could not stop in time to avoid said SUV (and the emergency vehicle never even moved from its spot, nor did it keep its lights on, nor did it leave the scene of the accident it caused to respond to the non-emergency it was supposedly going to when it turned the lights on, then off, then on again, then off for good). Chi was in the accident. She saw Mommy get in an ambulance. She got to ride with the policeman to meet me at the hospital. She saw Mommy get her "golden ticket." And she was in court with wide, scared eyes when I was told to plead guilty to my alleged infractions.

Chi has seen enough Law and Order, The Closer, and other such dramas in her 5 years of sharing my room with me to know that guilty means jail. And she freaked.

So apparently, the trauma of the experience is fresh.

In addition to harboring fears of another potential accident, Chi is worried about speeding tickets. I mean really... a girl gets one ticket in her sports car while going down a hill (taking Chi to school), without even so much as a tap on the gas, and suddenly I'm speed racer?

This morning our conversation went like this:

Chi: 25 on the white sign.
MommyR: Speed limit? Am I going too fast?
C: Yes. Good thing no police are around, we'd have to go to court. And maybe jail.
M: To jail?
C: I don't want to be separated from my mommy. You're my best one.
M: [silent]
C:In jail there's no privacy.
M: Really?
C: No. No door on the bathroom. Only a door so you don't escape. A big spikey one, maybe.
And they might not even feed us. Sometimes they just don't like them to live if they've done something really bad.
M: Wow.
C: You know in jail you have to wear certain clothes. Like orange shirts. Your favorite color.
M: So maybe I should want to go for the shirt?
C: No, please don't. Please don't start to speed. You'd have to stay in there 100 days!

I swear I need to invest in a car recorder or I'll surely have an accident trying to capture her words accurately as I sit waiting for a light to change. And, more importantly, I'll have to reassure my little one that her mama is a safe and conscientious driver again, because right now she doesn't buy it.

Nearing that day...

Forgive me, for this is a rambling kind of post... and it is evolving of its own accord, not on some well -thought out plan.

---

I told my father in an e-mail that I was expecting his first grandson (though at the time we'd not had confirmation of gender, just a mama;s hunch). That was April 1, 2008 - - April Fool's Day.

Just a week later I received a phone message from Dr. H (who never calls a patient unless their is an issue). No details, no clarity, just a Friday phone message before two days of pregnant-and-emotionally-fickle worry about why I needed the personal attention.

At that point in my pregnancy, Ya was already fluttering around and I could feel his acrobatic performances. They gave me secret comfort - - assurance of his impending birth. Aside from my immediate family, I'd told only one co-worker and though I was showing, tactful folk who knew me refrained from guessing in my presence. I'd share when the time was right for me.

What followed those 48 plus hours of restless worry was a drawn out episode of educate-deny-accept-pray-hope-resolve in a cyclical, sickening cycle. Dr. H said a screen showed Trisomy 18, bad chromosomes. Fatal. Painful, but mercifully brief life. Incurable. Statistically uncommon. Best to terminate ("You do not want a baby with Trisomy 18" and euphemistically the phrase of choice on support sites called his commentary "saying goodbye early.")

I sought comfort in my odds. I held firm to my mom's steady hand through an amniocentesis. I cried, hiding tears in public and letting go alone. My sweet Chi comforted, my Chi ceaselessly prayed. My cousins spread word, called in shifts, and no doubt did a fair share of praying, too. My colleague (more appropriately called friend - a term I rarely use) prayed, comforted, and calmed me between classes when I dwelled on the negative.

Around that same time, as I obsessed over celebrity-babies.com articles, I found a community of support in blogs. You see, that was the day "Bring the Rain" was mentioned - - the day little Audrey Caroline went home to God because she was too precious to stay on Earth. I read the eloquent, extremely personal, heartfelt, God-driven words of Angie Smith and found peace.

The outcome of my amnio confirmed what Ya's daddy had said all along, "I talked to God, he's fine." And ultimately, our little king was born.

And here I am a year later - still devouring blogs, though the celebs are a last resort and the "regular folk" have become my stars of choice. There's power in sharing pieces of one's life. There's understanding in these stories that stretches across cultures, communities, colors and economics (I tried to find a suitable "c" word, but it isn't working). I relish in shedding anonymity for the sake of sharing a good photo story, an anecdote - happy or sad, or even a blurb of reply from someone who's been there, felt that, or is praying for/about it.

Online, these parents can dish about health, wealth, and all that stuff we deal with in this life on earth. Many preach without being preachy, drawing spirituality from their respective faiths and proclaiming it in their reflections.

And as the day my simple outlook on parenting and pregnancy evolved into it's current uncertain and often cloudy state draws ever nearer, I put my faith in Him who has the plan.

Today I pray for you who read this, for those whose stories I read, and for these sweet little ones who need God's tender touch more than me right now:

Samuel J and Stellan M.

Oh So Sick...

I don't think I've ever had a stomach virus quite like this one. It came immediately following a very late banquet dinner at a Pastor Installation service and rendered me immobile for much of the next day (except of course to race to the restroom to hug the porcelain god). I tried desperately to will the body to let out whatever demon had entered it - and the direction it came was certainly not an issue so long as I was feeling better. But alas, the 7up went flat. The ginger ale went missing. The water was a last resort. And still, though my stomach complained audibly, nothing was moving along its course. I ate, reluctantly, two bowls of soup spread out over the course of the day. Bland, not what the brain said I wanted to eat. Now this morning I am preparing for work. I am hoping that I can run to the restroom and get the door unlocked quickly should the need arise... and I am praying that my rumblings within are not heard by way too curious students. I'm such a baby when it comes to being ill... and that's hard to handle when there are already two little'ns in the house needing my help.

too good to be true

If it sounds to good to be true, it probably is.

I suppose I should have learned that a long time ago. Way back when I bought my first pricey SLR Nikon camera body from a company advertising in the back of Popular Photography magazine. I thought I had a hot deal. For the same $800+ that everyone was charging, I was getting a lens cleaning kit and a tripod. When the camera arrived, my tripod was a table top diddy that could hardly support the weight of the camera if a lens was on it. And it won't take a picture without a lens, so what use was that?

Alas, I did not learn.

This past week I have had two companies try to pull a lure (bait) and switch (upsell?) on me. You see, I really want a Nikon D300. As far as digital SLR cameras go, this is the professional grade system. According to Nikon, the MSRP is $1799 - - too much for my wallet to handle and the credit cards are already in agony... Savvy shopper that I am, I priced the camera on the internet.

Sonic Camera had it for $703. Wow, seriously? No. Upon placing my order and supplying my credit card information, I received an e-mail asking for verbal verification. I sat on hold for 10+ minutes and was shuffled through phone jockeys for 10 minutes more. The last guy says he needs the "last 3 numbers of the security code on the back of the card." I told him the card was not on me, I'd call back with the numbers. He says, "May I ask why you are ordering the body only?" I thought to myself, "dumb question." But instead, I said, "This is an upgrade. I already have the Nikon lenses."

"Okay. It'll be shipping from our overseas warehouse and will reach you in about three weeks. Any questions?" I thought to myself, "Dumb. I'm sure he realizes I researched this camera to death before investing." But I said, "Yes, what shipping company do you use?" I was told Fed Ex. I thanked him and said I'd call back. Thirty minutes later, I get an e-mail saying the camera I confirmed order on (which I was told was in stock) was back ordered. I called thinking this must be an error, as I just spoke to dude and he said it was reserved for me.

The new phone agent says the model I ordered was the foreign model (huh?) and nothing but the camera was in the box. This means no cables, no battery, no memory card, no software. Nothing to make the camera operational. Essentially: paperweight for $703 with free shipping. I was then told that the US Model was always in stock for the bargain price of $1600+.   No thanks.

When I returned to the website, the same "foreign" model had gone up in price to $809. Supply and demand at its finest.

I was not deterred, just disappointed. So I tried again.

This time? Camera Giants.
The website says :

List Price: $2,399.99
Our Price: $1,099.00
You Save: $1,300.99

And a disclaimer under the product photo says "lens not included."


And indeed the scam began. This time the phone clerk says, "You need to add a battery and cables."

I replied: "No. The website says it is a US model, those are included in the kit."

He says: "It comes with a 4 minute battery. Do you know how much this camera retails for?"

I say: "Yes."

He replies: "You're getting it for a third of the price. For $1099 you'll get the required cables and a 2-hour battery."

I say: "Cancel the order."

He says, shocked: "Cancel? You don't want it?"

I reply: "Not if you advertise a camera body kit and send me a paperweight."

Lesson learned? Yes, I get it.  If it sounds to good to be true, it probably is.

Now an "educated consumer," I looked to verify that this was indeed the US model. Yes, it was. In fact, the "kit contents" as documented on the website included:

So I ordered the camera successfully on Friday and waited. This morning I was sent an e-mail for verbal confirmation. And I thought, here we go again. 

Project 365

I broke my lens awhile back and replaced it with a cheaper model... but the consolation is that I also added some cool trick filters to my repertoire. And while I'm continuing to shoot daily, there are some days I'm just not thrilled with. So here are a few of the 365 images I've pulled out.

Love baby feet...
















Mommy's so blessed...Reluctant model...
Strum on...
Monkeyin' around...Mommy loves these lips...
Camera tricks...Mad Hatter

Is it Friday yet?

No, really.

Is it Friday yet?

I ask because I have been running non-stop with the daily "To Dos" all week and still feel like nothing is done. And I am exhausted.

Dogs out at 5 a.m. Yep. Then back in at 5:03 when they bark and anger the neighbors (aka "disturb the repose of the neighborhood..." because "other people have dogs, but I don't hear them like yours" as the anonymous complaint letter stated two days before Christmas - good timing to be "neighborly," right? And you'd expect an attached unit in a townhouse to be better able to hear a dog in the adjoining yard, right? But then, I don't really know who penned the letter because they didn't have nerve to include a name.)

Dishes at 5:45 a.m.? Done. (Except for the silverware. I hate washing silverware. Don't know why, I just do and always have.)

Hair and clothes in order? For now...

Wake Chi up at 6 a.m. Attempted.

Wake Chi up again and watch her get out of bed at 6:10 a.m.

Make 4 trips to the car with our bags and the baby.... dunno, but it's never on schedule.

Kids at their respective day time care spots at 6:45 and 7:05 a.m. ? Check.

At work by 7:15 a.m. ... Well, no, but I sure did try my best while avoiding too hasty and unsafe a speed.

Then the hours roll on by until 2:02 p.m. when I attempt to escape my job for the second half of my parental duties aka the more important job.

Pick up kid two first. He sleeps peacefully in the car (I swear it's to recharge so he can hang out with me on my hip all night long).

I try to find something to occupy myself with that doesn't cost me anything until 3:40 p.m. (But shopping is sooooo much fun now that Ya fits in the shopping cart seat).

I could go home... but I'd be tempted to clean. (Then I'd lament at my laziness when I elect not to tamper with the dust, the wayward dirty socks, and the rug fuzzies.)

Finally, pick up kid one. Gauge her mood by her greeting. Attempt to reassure, soothe, praise, encourage, calm her as is needed.

At some point I am at home... lugging in my personal belongs, chub chub, the school and home diaper bags, breast pump bag, and bills (whatever happened to personal letters and cards, huh?).

Next on the list? "I'm hungry." "I'm starving." Or my personal favorite, "I'm not eating now," when dinner's on the table. I'm sure every mommy has fixed a 'feast' with one hand, right?

I've no idea when I go to bed... perhaps I shouldn't say I even do that. I usually crash with Ya in whatever I changed into after the last refunded meal - - sometimes in the covers, sometimes with the lights and T.V. off...

Did I mention I am exhausted?

Somewhere in between the mandatory activities I gather the laundry hidden under beds, in couch cushions, in "soiled" bags from the daycare, and (my personal favorite) in front of the shower or tub. Eventually I remember to switch the never ending loads to the dryer. And sometimes I actually sit down to fold and put away or hang the clothes.

And in my spare time? Pull out the camera for Project 365, shoot until the kids cover their faces, run and hide, intentionally avoid me, or cry in frustration (he can't talk yet, let alone crawl away, remember?). Check the blogs I follow for updates. Run a cycle of Mob Wars on Facebook, peak at posted photos, change my status (this morning's status update: "Mommy Rachelle is").

Is it Friday yet?

Our man God... a conversation

Last week Wednesday, after our two day hiatus from school on account of the fluffy white stuff, Chi came home talkative and inquisitive. She always does this when I'm driving and I almost wreck trying to jot down what she says before my mommy-brain-damage kicks in and I forget the precious things she says...

recorded 3/4/09

Chi: Does God have a sister?

Mommy: Uh, I don't know...

Chi: I know, the Nature Spirit.

Mommy: Mother Nature?

Chi: Yeah, that's her.

**pause**

Chi: God's the coolest person in the whole world. I like God even though I can't see him. He lives in the sky.

**pause**

Chi: I wish when I die I can go in the sky with him. Sometimes God might give you more life. He can do that. That used to happen in the way past.

Mommy: You mean when cave men were here?

Chi: Not when cave men, after them.

All this because the movie of choice at her school that day was Prince of Egypt? Thank goodness it wasn't some secular slop or who knows what conversation she'd have churned up. I must say that she was paying attention last year in the Christian school she attended. All the Biblical lessons they taught have been things to ponder for her and she is slowly sharing her determinations. She knows the most incredible things about faith!

Quiet Storm...

I never quite understood how a storm could be quiet. I mean, what kind of storm is worth the name if it's not booming thunder, clapping rain drops and whirring trees? Well, I suppose that it's the kind that brings the fluffy stuff. Like the blanket we were blessed with this past week.

You'd think that with TWO snow days, I'd have written several blog entries. Instead, I had a permanent fixture at my computer: my six year old spent hours playing various Noggin and Nickelodeon games. [And the bad parenting award goes to???]

We didn't dare venture out on the morning of the heaviest snow fall, initially electing to watch the snow fall, the wind swirling snow flakes around rooftops and the pavement temporarily white washed, from the comfort of our home.


But fearing that the passersby might trample the beautiful covering with dog and boot prints, we bundled up my beauty and ventured to a clearing to snap a few images of Chi in her non-winter fancy. Chi squashed my ideas of a hearty shoot early by declaring "I'm going inside. It's cold out here." and then quickly dancing toward the house. (I'm quite surprised she felt anything, as underneath the skirt and fleece was a pair of jeans and a hearty winter coat.)

Following that pronouncement and departure, Chi contented herself indoors. No snow ball fight, no snow person. Nothing could lure her back outside.

Not I

After last week's hiatus from Not Me'ing (yes, it's a verb now), you'd think I'd be roaring to go... but it's 1:28 a.m. and I'm sitting in my room wide awake and excited about today being a much needed, much anticipated SNOW DAY. And the Not Me's? I'm having a bit of memory lapse thinking of the things I did not do this week. Hmmm....

I did not discover that my very important, favorite Christmas gift is very broken. I just new it was safely guarded from damage (until it fell of my bed in between photo shoots). And of course, I have not been trying to find a reasonably priced comparison to replace my lense because I am totally not addicted to the fabulous picture taking results it produces. I am also not using the broken lense by holding it pressed against the camera body as I shoot... because, again, I am not addicted to the awesome images it helps me create.

I am not wondering how I didn't realize how much I missed sharing my bed with my precious little girl. I think hearing the combined snores of two children beside me is absolutely lovely, though I would never tell those anti-co-sleeping folk I know how much I love it.

I am not absolutely giddy about today's snow day. I have been blessed with a great job and should want to be there all the time, right?

I have not turned on Michaels in favor of the new and improved Joanne's Crafts. The latter has the entire line of K & Company stickers and a new line by Crayola that is "Wild"ly addictive (and conveniently matches Ya's room decor). I did not cave and go to the store under the guise of spending a 40 percent off coupon and come out of the store with $50 worth of stickers and page bling for my terribly behind scrap books.

I do not visit random stores with Ya becuase I relish in the "He's sooooo cute" comments that he always gets. I am not thoroughly enjoying that people think he looks like me and therefore every compliment is indirectly testifying to my own good looks (right?). And Ya's super huge, gummy smile does not attract folk to him like bears to honey or flies to poop (eww, did I just say that? What a terrible simile).

I have not increased tummy and sit up time with Ya in anticipation of a photo shoot with the fabulous Lisa Julia because his willingness to hold these positions will produce cuter images. I am not obsessed with photographs. Not me!

I am not blaming every slower-than-anticipated milestone Ya reaches on his 3-week-early arrival or his being male. All good things take time, right? And those silly charts are just estimations...

I am not totally in awe of God's power to protect and keep us. This past week has seen the miracle birth of little Samuel (God hears and answers prayers, doesn't he?). This charming little man couldn't wait to make his grand entrance in the world, so he arrived 10 weeks before he was supposed to. And as we pray about his health, he thrives!