Friday, July 3, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
I'm seriously considering going back to work. I'm really going insane staying at home and trying to do everything.
I'm seriously considering giving up the "dream" of Cyclebrew. This is my passive aggressive way of confronting this issue.
Ok, I'm cleaning up the desk now.
Friday, April 17, 2009
Then I used pvc pipe to make a structure to hold up clear plastic, since it regularly snows in spring.
Then I started planting, but only cold weather crops. I planted lettuce, you can get four per square, broccoli, one per square, and spinach, nine per square. I also put in some pansies at four per square just because they are cute.
Next I'll be planting turnips, sugar snap peas, carrots and beets from seed directly into the garden. Around May 15th I'll be planting tomatoes, cilantro, and peppers.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I need to get out of my heart everything that's bothering me.
Please don't say, "you shouldn't be so hard on yourself," or "Don't listen to your negative thoughts," or "She'll be fine, she's ok." I just want to talk without judgement, for once. Why is it that people think I need to be told what to do all the time? I HATE being told "You should......" I just need those two words banned from vocabulary, everywhere.
Just listen, please.
Carissa is going to physical therapy. Her last orthopedic appt. didn't go so great. I went in thinking everything was going to be hunky-dory. I wasn't stressed, I wasn't even thinking about it. And then the doc says, "Her right hip still looks a little loose." I covered my eyes with my hand, as if to block out the x-ray, and slumped. I couldn't believe it. I thought we were done. I thought she was going to be fine, it was complete, over, perfect. No. Her hips are unstable, that means she doesn't like to stand, she feels wobbly. But if she doesn't stand, her hips will not form correctly. She needs the pressure of standing to form her hips. It's a viscious cycle. We have to go to physical therapy to help her stand and walk.
I sob on the way home. I don't know why, but I do. I realize that I'm terrified....of I don't know what. Before I had a baby I imagined watching her stand, watching her pull up and walk. I never imagined it being in a physical therapist's office. When we go to my mommy group or baby story time I see all the other babies standing, crawling, taking steps. They aren't scared. They don't hurt. They are making the transition easily and normally, with some falls, of course. Carissa is delayed. It hurts to think about that. It makes me so sad. It's a sadness I didn't even know I had that just wells up from deep down in my heart. I don't know what it's about.
And then we go to the physical therapy appointment. She isn't crawling, she scoots on her bottom and pulls with her hands. I never thought that was a bad thing. I never gave myself a hard time about it. The doctor never told me she needed to crawl. The books all say it's an optional milestone. Dr. Siegel, the orthopedic surgeon always said some babies just walk and skip crawling. So when I spoke to the physical therapist, she gave me a ton of reasons why it's good for babies to crawl. It involves their trunk muscles, which scooting doesn't. It helps their hand-eye coordination and their cross-over skills, which scooting doesn't. She could more easily get to her knees to kneel, which now I have to train her to do, to engage her muscles that help stabilize her hips. Why didn't I give her more tummy time? As soon as she learned how to sit I gave up on tummy time. She played more easily from a sit than from her belly. She always cried when I gave her tummy time. And lots of friends said their babies hated tummy time, too, but they all learned how to crawl. I wish I had known how much it would have helped her, particulary with all of her problems now.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Shane was riding his scooter to work at 8:00 p.m. when he was run over by a 19 year old girl in a Jetta. Both of us lungs collapsed, his liver--obliterated, head trauma, femur--broken, as well as many other bones in his body.
I had decided to go to bed early, and as usual, I didn't have my phone with me, and it was on silent. On a whim, I decided to check it. I had 8 missed calls from the same number. Strange, I thought. Only one voicemail. It was the police, no details. Very strange, I thought. I called Shane, "I got this call from the Colorado Springs Police, do you know what they want? Alright, call me back, bye." Then I got the call. "Where are you?" he asks, "Your husband has been in an accident. You need to go to the hospital and you need to plan on staying there all night." "All night!" I thought. "I have to teach in the morning!!!" Wow, was I in denial? Shock? I don't know. All I know is that God's amazing love wrapped around me like a blanket and got me into clothes, got me into the car, and got me safely to the hospital. I didn't even know where it was, but I got there.
I didn't know it, but the police were waiting with the girl at the scene to see if Shane made it to the hospital alive.
I should have known the severity of it all when I was ushered into the little private room in the ER and was given a chaplain. "But I want to be out there with all the normal people, why am I in here?" I thought.
Dr. Fisher: His blood pressure is 0, we're taking him into surgery right now.
Jean and Paula came and listened to Dr. Fisher and watched me for my reaction: completely blank. I don't even remember what Dr. Fisher said after the surgery.
The next morning reality came home. "When are Shane's parents getting here?" asked the nurse. "Next Friday." "They need to get here, NOW." "Why, he's going to be ok, isn't he?" "I never said that," said Dr. Bogarin. "What?!! What are his chances?" "About 50/50." He's a great doc, no bedside manner. I thought, "Why didn't we have any kids?"
I just realized this, but they had me stay in the little house next door to the hospital for three nights that is usually reserved for the family of cancer patients. They gave me the small, private room at the end of the hall in the ICU. They didn't expect him to make it.
Peggy, "Don't listen to Dr. Bogarin, he's going to live! He's going to make it! He's strong! I can feel it! He's going to make it! God's grace is on him, I can feel it!" If it weren't for Peggy's attitude, I wouldn't have made it, and maybe Shane wouldn't have either.
That night and next day and the next 6 weeks were so life changing. When I think back on that time I know the power of God's grace. I know I contained a strength that was not my own. I gave myself totally up to that power. I surrendered everything, and got back everything, and more.