Table Talk

Today was the day for that yearly doctor appointment that every woman looks forward to (NOT!)...so imagine my surprise when at the supper table Tony addresses us "gals" and asks the following question, "What was the worst thing that happened to you today?"

First of all, on any other day his mind is usually preoccupied thinking about ways to make a few extra bucks, tweak a recipe or find a better solution to do something in his daily recruiting process that he struggles to focus on us while we chatter on about our day (like females tend to do =)

Second of all, HE is often the one who groans when I ask similar questions to get conversation going at the supper table.

So for him to spring this one on us and especially on a day when he was fully aware I'd had an unpleasant doctor appointment, seemed cruel. I shot him a look of complete disgust and his eyes just smiled and sparkled in return.

The girls began sharing their worst moments and all the while my mind is trying to figure a delicate way out of this one. When he opened his mouth to speak, I fully expected him to prompt me to share. And then just as quickly it hit me. He'd volunteered to baby sit Megyn the bulk of the day and suffice it to say, she doesn't just have one poopy diaper a day.

Yep, he was so proud of himself for changing what he thought was only a wet diaper and in reality turned out to be, as he described it (at the DINNER table), "green and slimy." And for once I didn't rail on him too much, after all, the spotlight was no longer on me!

I Thought I Would Always Remember

It’s only been a week and already I’ve forgotten. The eye that was bulging and black; the fear that coursed through my veins when she wouldn’t focus on me; the way her body hung limp on my arm as if she was made of rubber.

I was working around the house, getting ready for a trip north to see family and left her to wander the house at will. She explored the living room, then crawled to the computer room. I heard her whimpering and found her under the gate that was purchased to keep her out of trouble but has been more of a nuisance than a help. And still I didn’t remember. I rescued her and soothed her then set her back down on the floor to play again. I went about doing other miscellaneous things and eventually met up with her in the dining room. She was getting into her sister’s new Christmas presents, stored in the corner for safe keeping.

There was nothing there to harm her but it was while I was standing, observing her play that I noticed the dining room chair and remembered…

…seven days ago I was standing at the dining room table talking to Britnee. Janae was sitting on the register in the corner behind us doing her homework. We were all there in the same room and Megyn snuck in unbeknownst to us. We saw the dining room chair fall, heard a thud and then a whimper. Britnee reached her first but she started to hold her breath. I took her from Brit’s arms and her body was limp. Her cry didn’t sound right but I could still sense that she was distraught. I tried to calm her to no avail. Tony came and took her from my arms. Again, I tried to sooth her. She wouldn’t focus, instead staring straight ahead. A huge knot was quickly forming under her left eye and I also thought I saw a ridge taking shape from under the temple to the back of the head. By now the whole family was gathered around our hurting 6 month old baby girl-some praying aloud and others praying silently.

After what seemed like forever but was probably mere minutes, Tony asked for the phone to call 9-1-1. I immediately started doling out instructions for quick living room cleanup to give the EMTs room to work (6 month olds have a way of making the rooms they play in look like they’ve been hit by a hurricane =

We found out pretty quickly that if someone is dying, you probably want to just hop in the car and head to the hospital yourself. Our town has a volunteer fire department and they aren’t always on site. But they finally arrived and other than the lengthy wait they were great to work with. Once we heard the sirens, there was a flurry of activity out our window and at our door. Vehicles from every direction poured into the yard and people swarmed toward the porch.

We gave a quick rundown of why we called and they did an initial assessment. Then they asked if we wanted them to transport Megyn to ER. They were concerned about whiplash, which in an infant can cause spinal injury. They wanted to stabilize her head and have her checked out by a doctor. By this time she was screaming gustily and acting a bit more like herself but we weren’t inclined to take any chances, recalling how just minutes before she was limp, unable to focus and falling asleep in my arms.

I was concerned about the fact that they would more than likely transport her to the nearest hospital, which is small and not always competent in my eyes. I wanted so badly to take her to Riverview where she was born and where our new (wonderful) pediatrician is. I was wishing that we’d just taken her in ourselves. It was too late for those thoughts but little did I know God was already at work.

The EMTs wanted me to ride in the ambulance with her while Tony and the girls would follow in our van. By the time I gathered my coat and the diaper bag, Tony had already made arrangements with a friend from town to meet us at the hospital to get the girls. As I walked to the ambulance, one of the guys met me part way and asked where we wanted them to take Megyn. I asked where they COULD take her. Their response was, “Anywhere.” Tentatively, not wanting to get my hopes up, I questioned, “Riverview?” They said, “No problem.” And we were on our way.
Two hours and a CT scan later, Megyn was acting normal and was declared by the ER doctor to be healthy and whole. The only thing to show for all the excitement was that nasty bulging, black eye.

Remember the Banana Seat?

We drive by a location on our way to church or the girl's school several times a week. The owner often has things for sale in the yard near the road. A few months ago, we were driving by and he had some older bikes for sale-old enough that they reminded me of the style of the first bike that I learned to ride. That launched my brain into sharing a story with Tony and any of the girls who might have been listening.

I had been handed down a turquoise metallic finish bike from my sister, Barb. It bore a glittery turquoise seat which was a bit beat up having been through two of us. One day, I carelessly vacated the bike and left it to rest in the part of the yard where my dad and brothers often backed their vehicles. That evening, my brother-in-law, Dan, backed up into the yard, and you guessed it, over my bike! He felt terrible even though it was my fault. My parents did NOT feel sorry for me because they felt like I had been careless.

Not many days passed until the next time I saw Dan and when he arrived, he presented me with a new bike seat...a white banana seat with bright colored flowers all over it. I LOVED it!

End of memory. Back to the present. A few days later, we were passing by again and low and behold, would you believe, out by the road for sale was a turquoise bike. I quickly pointed it out noting that it was very similar to bike I had as a child. And then we got closer and I couldn't believe my eyes...it had the EXACT same kind of seat that my brother-in-law had bought me! I wanted a picture so bad but we were running late and though Tony was willing to turn around, it seemed silly to me for him to make that sacrifice. I figured we would get a picture later. But later it was dark. The next time we drove by, it was gone. I was so bummed and watched and watched. Then one day, I was on my way to pick up the girls from school and there it was. But this time I had no camera. I was delighted to find out when I got to the school that Britnee had her camera with her. So we made a stop on the way home and got these. How cool is it that I now have photos to scrap this memory?!

Our Little Hoosier

Kerrigan was working on English today and needed help coming up with adjectives for various words. She kept telling me the noun and I was NOT understanding her pronunciation. She repeated the word several more times and insisted it was not "walk" - what I thought she was saying.

I finally asked her to spell it. R-O-C-K. But she was saying rawk. "Oh, I said, 'Rock!' You need to open your mouth when you say it." She tried. I laughed.

"Say it like a Michigander," I advised. Her reponse? "But I'm NOT a Michigander; I'm an Indianer!"

Hate. H-A-T-E. Hate.

Kerrigan had the spelling word "hate" this week. Try using that in a sentence appropriately while striving to instill character and goodness in your child! The examples in the PACE was that we should hate sin. True! But tonight I discovered a few more.

• I HATE these Mexican bean beetles that are taking over my house!
• I HATE allergy attacks that go along with this glorious fall weather!
• I HATE that mess in the corner of the computer room and hope it's not there when I wake up tomorrow morning!
• I HATE that my girls and I have the same color underwear (makes for a frustrating time when you grab some from the not-yet-folded tote of clean laundry and get halfway up the stairs to discover they aren't yours! lol!)
• I HATE that Megyn is having another growth spurt and want time to slow down just a little bit!
• I HATE that my nephew was diagnosed with H1N1 today and that it's likely the rest of his family will get it =(

Yep, there's more to hate than sin. But look closely and I bet you'll see that sin is the common denominator to many of those things on my HATE list.

Why I Fell for Fall

I wasn't planning to post on my blog today. But I'm taking the challenge from Sarah Fry to talk about fall.

Fall is my favorite season. I don't really know why or when it happened. But maybe it's because that is the time of year that I fell in love with my husband. Maybe it's because that is when we got married (a year later =) Maybe it's because that was the first season of my first pregnancy. Or maybe it's all those reasons combined.

To me, fall seems like a beginning. Fall signals the beginning of a routine that has gone by the wayside with the relaxed schedule of summer. Fall signals the beginning of another year of marriage - October 30th. Fall signals the beginning of another round of family gatherings.

To me, fall is full of contrast. I don't care for cider but I am intrigued by the workings of a cider mill. I hate Halloween but I enjoy selecting the perfect pumpkin to share a step on my front porch with a gorgeous mum. I dislike cold, rainy days but I savor each and every day filled with glorious sunshine bouncing off the red and gold and orange of the trees.

To me, fall holds many memories. Fall revival and nights spent around the kitchen table with various evangelists. Harvest parties with bonfires, hayrides, yummy food and fun fellowship. High school football games on nights so chilly you could see your breath and where I enjoyed the marching band more than the game.

And so there you have it...some reasons why fall has become my favorite season. Thank you, Sarah, for challenging me to put it into words. And to the rest of my readers, happy fall, y'all!

Presidential Prayer for Healing

Rushing for an appointment with the President and some other officials, I dropped Megyn in her car seat down a huge flight of steps. I watched in horror as she bounced with excessive force down each concrete step. The car seat flipped over and slammed her head before coming to a stop when it whammed into Kara Plank who was carrying Sadie in HER car seat.

By the time I caught up to Megyn, she was listless and had a nasty gash on her forehead that was bleeding profusely. I was distraught to say the least.

Suddenly, I found myself whisked to a stage in front of a live audience where I was seated with Michelle Obama and Joe Biden. Tony was across the stage from me visiting with Mr. President and some other important looking men. We were enjoying snacks, namely Doritos and Wheat Thins (which Joe Biden had never had before and wondered if they were good. Michelle concurred that they were, though it had been a long time since she'd had them!)

And then, I heard a voice. It was that of Mr. Obama, who was using a lapel mic to pray for Megyn's healing. Just as he was about to pray "in Jesus name", the mic crackled and cut out. There was an immense amount of commotion as we started to verbally speculate whether this was a convenient "out" when I woke up and found out it was all just a dream.