Filed under: Storms
On Saturday, as you may recall from my post, I knew that my grandma was sick. I was anxious, scared, sad and so many other emotions that don’t even have words assigned to them. I felt uneasy, restless. And so I kept myself busy by cleaning, writing, playing.
Our mailbox on Saturday was an interesting sight. It was empty, except one small magazine. A magazine that my grandma had subscribed me to a year or more ago. I hadn’t seen an issue in months. But, Saturday, it was there. “Angels on Earth” it’s called. When I saw the magazine laying there, I felt a strange tingling in my heart.
On Sunday, Jimmy and I sat in the back row of church with Aubri in our arms, laughing at the pastor’s talk about Disney movies. That’s all I remember. I wish I could say it was an insightful sermon that offered advice on what was to come. But I can’t. Because it’s a blur.
My phone rang. I grabbed it from Jimmy, ran for the exit and answered. It was the call that I had subconsciously expected but consciously dreaded.
“Bad news,” said Dad. “Grandma is not getting better.”
“OK, I’m going to look for a ticket right now to get on a plane,” I said, tears streaming down my cheeks as I knelt in the church atrium near a large wall of windows, staring into the parking lot. A little girl toddled towards me with a smile, I wiped the tears from my eyes and ran back into the church. Jimmy looked over his shoulder at me as I approached, I shook my head, my chin trembled.
“We have to go,” I said.
Jimmy grabbed Taylor from her classroom, we rushed home, I booked a flight while Jimmy and Taylor threw clothes into a suitcase for me and Aubri.
We took off for the airport, me with a pounding heart and a nervous stomach. I didn’t know much about Grandma’s current condition, but I had an urgency to get there. And get there fast. I was so scared that I wouldn’t make it in time to say “goodbye”. If it was even at that point, I didn’t know. But I wanted to get to her side. Quickly.
Aubri and I flew to Detroit and were among the last flights allowed in due to a near-blizzard that had just struck the city. I rushed through the airport, frantically looking for my Uncle Jim at arrivals and pick-ups. The snow was blinding. People were rushing through the terminals and out the doors, frustrated that their flights had been canceled. I have never seen such white-out conditions. There is no logical explanation as to how my flight made it to Detroit. The flight before mine and after mine was canceled. Mine made it.
I found Uncle Jim, we loaded into his van and headed to the hospital. It was the longest drive of my life.
We left my house at noon and I arrived by Grandma’s side at 9pm.
I walked into her hospital room, Aubri in my arms. Grandma perked up, looked at Aubri and flashed a huge grin visible through her oxygen mask. Her eyes lit up like stars and her cheeks immediately flushed with color. She didn’t take her eyes off of Aubri for what seemed like hours. She couldn’t keep her hands off of Aubri’s feet, tickling her toes non-stop. And when Aubri pulled her feet away, Grandma just held onto her sweet chubby calves.
I found out later that Grandma asked her caretaker to “fix her hair” before Aubri got there. She always wanted to look her best for people. Particularly her hair. Precious.
At one point that evening in between napping, rubbing Aubri’s feet, and holding Grandpa’s hand, Grandma looked to me. She lowered her mask, lifted her head, looked into my eyes and mouthed “I love you.” She replaced her mask, laid her head back down and went back to sleep.
We sat by her side that night until about 10:30. Rubbing my grandpa’s arms, hugging on my mom and kissing my grandma’s forehead. As we were leaving, Grandma waved for me to come near. She wanted a kiss from Aubri. We leaned Aubri close to Grandma and they kissed, Aubri’s pursed lips to Grandma’s oxygen mask. I then led Aubri’s lips to Grandma’s forehead for several extra smooches.
We went back to the hotel room, which was connected to the hospital so our “commute” was short. Mom and I sat up for more than an hour just talking. About what was happening, what could happen, and how we were handling all of this emotionally. We went to “sleep” but neither of us rested at all.
We “woke up” (i.e. stopped pretending to sleep) at 6am and headed to see Grandma shortly after that.
I walked in Grandma’s room, greeted her with kisses and hand holding, then sat in a short spinning stool intended for the doctors. We sat there for hours. Deep in thought, repeating prayers, rubbing backs, crying, talking, reminiscing, talking about God’s promise for eternity, hoping for miracles while also understanding the inevitable.
At noon, there was a noticeable difference in Grandma. And in me. My eyes were glued to her chest, watching it rise and fall. Watching her face, her lips, her eyes. I don’t know why I felt compelled to keep such a close eye on her, but I did. Deep in thought, everything in the room except for Grandma was a blur from noon until 3:50pm. That’s when I watched my sweet grandma’s chest rise for the last time.
There are no words to express the gut-wrenching emotion that I endured this week as I watched my grandma pass and my grandpa’s heart break. As much as me and my grandpa talk about eternity, Grandma’s new beautiful angel wings and the blessing in living a pain-free life with our Savior, it still hurts. It hurts not to see her earthly face and run my fingers through her sweet white hair. But, when I find myself missing these earthly abilities, I force myself to focus on Grandma’s new life instead. To give hope to Grandpa that his mourning of loss will soon turn to celebration of life. That his tears of sorrow will soon turn to smiles from precious memories.
Grandma, I love you. I miss you. I celebrate your new beautiful wings that Jesus himself placed upon your back in a ceremony so amazing that I can only dream about. Your new health, your perfect hearing. Your ability to smile as you watch down over your husband, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. I long for Grandpa to hold you once again, to dance with you forever. But not just yet, OK? As you know, God has him on this earth still for a reason. Please remind Grandpa that you want him to take care of himself. For you. For Jesus. For God’s perfect plan.
Grandpa, I love you. My heart breaks for yours. I cherish you and am not ready for you to leave. Please take care of yourself for me, for Grandma. For the great grandkids that, thank God, Grandma got to meet. Please rest in knowing that you have a beautiful guardian angel in Grandma. An angel that wants you to complete this beautiful story that God wrote for you, our family, our world. Live longer, stronger, with smiles and laughter.
God, please hug Grandma for me. Please be sure that her dancing shoes are nothing short of exquisite, her dancing dress fit for a princess. Please mend my grandpa’s heart, help him to celebrate Grandma’s new life with you, to rejoice in the memories that they created here on earth. Heal him from cancer. Give him new health, and renewed hope. God, I praise you for miraculously delivering me and Aubri to Grandma’s bedside before she joined you in Heaven, that she got to meet Aubri and give her kisses. I thank you for the last “I love you” that I received, but more importantly, the 31 years of memories that I have with her spunky self. I praise you for the special moments that I shared with Grandpa and my mom before and after Grandma’s passing. Comforting, praying and weeping. More than anything, Lord, I thank you for what you did in me during this week. You showed me love. You showed me love in the midst of life’s most tender moment. Intense, sincere, selfless love. Although I have witnessed Grandma and Grandpa’s love for one another over my 31 years of life, there’s something about the 19 hours that I spent with them this week that will change me forever. I will love differently, live differently. In ways that I can’t put into words just yet. Something amazing happened in me after witnessing love during its last earthly hours. Although it sounds strange to say, I thank you God for this experience. For the tears, the hugs, the kisses, the prayers, the perspective, the hope. And I thank you God for my grandma’s new shimmering wings, and sparkling slippers (you know Grandma loves her some shoes) that she will surely use to dance all over Heaven’s floor.
Grandpa, I pray that you heal. I pray that you feel Grandma’s spirit within your heart, and that you see her legacy in your great-granddaughters’ eyes. I love you Grandpa.
My grandma is very sick. She’s in the hospital, grandpa by her side. Mom by her side.
I’m scared. I’m sad. And my heart aches for my sweet grandparents.
I can’t cry anymore.
And so, as I wait for updates or a call to get on a plane, I have kept my mind busy.
I have washed and folded five loads of laundry.
Folded all piles of week-old laundry that have been consuming floor space.
Attempted to teach Aubri that tummy time is fun.
Fed my child a well-balanced meal for the first time in who knows how long.
Tried to keep Taylor from scaring her sister too badly.
Painted my fingernails.
Asked Taylor to stop standing on the counter numerous times despite her sweet attempt to “paint the kitchen” with a Play-Doh roller.
Photographed the nursery like I have been meaning to do for six months.
Vacuumed a house that didn’t need to be vacuumed.
Shop-vac’d all outdoor living areas.
Photographed kisses.
Purged Aubri’s closet of all too-small clothing.
Worked a bit.
Tended to more hair-pulling drama.
Fed my baby three times and changed six diapers.
Read Facebook 900 times.
Stared into these baby blues.
Written this blog post.
And in between all attempts at distraction, I still:
Looked for flights to Michigan.
Cried for my grandma.
Cried for my grandpa.
Cried for my mom.
Prayed to God that He would provide peace and comfort to my family.
Realized that I should be putting down the laundry and picking up the Bible.
But I’m human. And I didn’t stop long enough to think about that.
Until now.
Filed under: Holidays
Because we are all about frugality in this house, Taylor made valentines this year for her friends and teachers. Thanks to the internet for inspiring ideas, and thanks for a toddler that didn’t succumb to the elaborate/costly cards and candy that she shoulda/coulda/woulda had.
Her valentine to her teachers:
And to her friends:
Total cost for all gifts/cards combined: $1.60.
Sweet! Cheap! Happy Valentine’s Day!
This is going to be one of those all-over-the-place posts because, honestly, it’s been one of those all-over-the-place days. Well, weeks. Okay, months.
Here’s a fly-on-the-wall view of our hectic household over the past few weeks:
My hair has been a total of six different colors in less than two weeks, thanks to an itch to regain my childhood blonde-ness. From boring brown (natural color) to orange (thank you, Feria) to yellow ($150 hair color stripping later) to white (dyed in attempt to reach the initially-desired blonde result) to copper (trying to natural-ize the blonde to a dirty blonde but purchased the wrong shade) to brownish reddish goldish (after going back and purchasing the correct color of blonde.) That was fun.
It’s cold here. And wet. We’re ready for Spring.
We’ve celebrated lots of birthdays, including cousin Gus’ 10th and Memaw’s 70th. A local skating rink was the location of the festivities.
While Jimmy’s parents were in town, we enjoyed our first family bowling experience. All-you-can-bowl Sundays might become a regular activity in our household.
Taylor has a nasty cold. Aubri has been placed in a bubble.
Work is keeping me ultra-busy.
Post-pregnancy hormones are keeping me ultra-weepy.
Our preemie is no longer teeny, weighing in at a whopping 13.4 pounds. Approximately 13 of the 13.4 pounds resides in her cheeks.
There is at least one pile of unfolded laundry on the floor of one room at all times. I can’t catch up.
I created and launched a website for my freelance work. CSS is not my best friend.
Taylor calls the yellow cartoon creature commonly found on Nickelodeon, “Sponge Bob Squirt Pants.” Which I find hilarious.
Aubri’s current nicknames include: “Nugget” and “Suga Booga.” Taylor calls her “Nuggy Nugs,” which I find both hilarious and adorably gangsta.
Taylor is still a silly diva that considers me an annoying member of the paparazzi.
Aubri is sleeping seven hours at night, praise God. Jimmy has been enjoying this extra sleep, but still continues to pass out mid-conversation due to his backlog of missed zzzz’s.
Aubri is working on holding her head up and has absolutely no interest in rolling over. I’ve tried to delicately shove her to her tummy. She makes it clear that this is not OK.
But she still loves me. Regardless of what her eyebrows tell you.
No matter how hectic life seems, I am loving every second of it. I love love love my girls.
But my hair? Not so much.
So there you have it. That’s been our life over the past few weeks. And that’s the longest I have sat still in months. So with that, I must depart to glue Aubri’s paci to her lips and velcro Tay’s bottom to the floor. Until next time, folks…I leave you with a few quotables from Taylor.
Taylor: “Mommy, today at school, me and my friend played mommy and daddy. We went to bed and, when we woke up, I had a baby in my tummy … but don’t worry mommy, it was just a bean bag.”
Tay: “Mommeeeeeeee, Aubri just said ‘buuuuuuutttttt.'” Me: “Tay, I’m pretty sure that was ‘booyiooooiooooo bababa’ but thanks for your concern.”
Aubri was CIO (crying it out) for less that one minute. I then hear this stern voice from a short girl around the corner: “Mommy! Aubri is cryin’. You got cot-ton in your ears?!”
During Tay’s prayers: “God, please make all the sick boys and girls well. And please tell the other boys and girls to ask their mommies if they can come to my house and play.”
Me, on Christmas Eve: “Tay! Guess who’s coming tonight?!” Tay: “Nana? Uncle Matt? Aunt Robin?” Me: “No… he’s got a big belly… and he wears red… and wears a red hat… and he fliiiiiiiies throuuuuuuugh the sky…” Tay; ::gasp:: “A superhero???!!!”
Taylor, talking to herself following an extra long and loud buuuuuuurp: “wow, that was extraooordinary!”
Me: “Shew, what stinks?” Tay: “Me. I tooted. Twice. No, three times.” ::I look over to see her spinning on her naked tummy on the floor:: Tay: “Daddy, I’m going to go potty. And when I go, please don’t ask me if I’m done yet. It makes me bananas.”
Taylor: “Mommy, can I have chewing gum?” Me: “Taylor, how many times have I told you ‘no’?” Taylor: “Well, let me try again.”
Taylor, when asked why we don’t put our fingers in electrical outlets, “because they send energy in you. And I already have enough of that.”
Jimmy, when talking to Taylor “…dang!” Taylor: “No, daddy, it’s damn!”
Filed under: My One Word
Five years ago my church launched a program inspired by the concept of “the New Year’s resolution.” The initiative has been so revolutionary that it has spread nationwide. Even national radio station K-LOVE caught wind of it and interviewed our pastor on air, followed by callers pouring in with their commitment to this new resolution model. Since then, people have been changing their lives around the world by committing to My One Word. Here’s an explanation of the project directly from the church.
Every New Year we hope this will finally be the year that things will change. We make promises about the new person we’re going to become, pledging to get a grip on our finances, get in shape, become a better parent, spouse, even a nicer human being! But there’s one problem: our resolutions seldom work. The busy pace of life gets the better of us, and suddenly, the year is over with little to no personal growth having occurred in our lives.
“My One Word” is an experiment designed to move you beyond the past and look ahead. The challenge is simple: lose the long list of changes you want to make this year and instead pick ONE WORD. This process provides clarity by taking all of your big plans for life change and narrowing them down into a single thing. One word focuses on your character and creates a vision for your future. So, we invite you to join us and pick one word in 2011 (click here to learn how)!
When approached to contribute to the My One Word blog, I hesitated. I had never slowed down enough to commit to a word in the past and, to be honest, it seemed … well, too scary. But, I decided that this writing opportunity was God’s way of telling me to take that leap this year. To commit to a word; to commit to change.
Read my first post and join me on this journey.
Today is my grandparent’s anniversary. (My mom’s parents.) And Monday is my grandma’s birthday.
I want to wish these two very special people a happy happy anniversary and a very happy birthday to my grandma. I love you both dearly and I miss you so much. As soon as Aubri can travel, I promise that I will be on your doorstep with two short nuggets looking for hugs and Vernors.
For those that do not know my grandparents, let me paint you a picture of these beautiful people that I adore.
My favorite childhood memories include these two.
I remember sitting in their La Jolla beachfront condo in their over-sized brown leather chair, spinning around in circles in front of the windows overlooking the rocky coastline. I remember walking down to the beach to jump on the seaweed as my grandpa held his breath with every hop, worried that I would slip. I remember their love for butter pecan ice cream and the white bowls with blue edging that they would serve to me, ice cream heaping over the sides. I remember the jicama that they would cut into sticks and put in dixie cups for me and Matt to munch on in the living room as we sat on their white looped carpet. I remember my grandpa building Lego towers on that same carpet and the laugh I would get out of destroying them right before his very eyes. I remember covering my grandpa’s head with barrettes and bows and how he wore them with pride. I remember how my grandpa could never complete a Christmas dressed as Santa without spilling at least a dozen curse words. I remember (and still enjoy) the way my grandma calls out his name with vigor, “Bob!” I love my grandma’s big smile and how her glasses frame her gentle eyes. I love the way my grandpa watches my grandma’s every move with sweet, gentle love. And how my grandma watches with quiet wonder at the family that she has built. I love the way they love me and my little girls. I love them so much it hurts.
This Christmas, my grandparents gave Taylor and Aubri a gift that I will cherish forever. Here is the video of Taylor opening the present.
Taylor may not fully understand its extreme preciousness just yet but I am certain that our entire family will cherish this book always. Almost every night since Christmas, I have heard my grandparent’s voices echoing down my halls. What a great reminder of an amazing love.
I love you two.
Hilly
Filed under: Baby Butterfly
In my last post, I mentioned that I was running on two hours of sleep. Jimmy and I had both been operating on fumes for the past few weeks. Aubri was getting about two to four hours of consecutive sleep each night, so one or both of us was up with her rocking her, patting her, shushing her, changing her, basically doing anything possible to get her back to sleep. To no avail.
Obviously, all babies are not made the same. Because we had Taylor’s sleep pattern mastered very early on. She was by-the-book with her eating, sleeping, pooping, everything. Aubri? Totally different. Guess she just wanted to keep it interesting for us. Which we should have known based on her out-of-the-box behavior since the beginning.
So anyway. After trying every possible sleep-inducing strategy over several days, we were close to physical and mental meltdown. In fact, on Wednesday night, I laid exhausted in bed at 4:30am just crying. I. Was. Spent. And I felt so helpless for my poor little sleepless nugget.
But, Thursday, oooohhhhh sweet Thursday, was the night. We implemented a mixed bag of tricks as we did every night, put her in bed and prayed once again for her to pleeeeeeease sleep for more than two hours.
I woke up at 3am in a panic. Put my ear practically in her mouth listening for her breathing. Yep. She was breathing. She was so sound asleep that she was barely making a sound. And oh what a sweet lack-of-sound that was.
With hopes for a repeat performance on Friday night we did the same exact routine, swaddled her crazy arms in with her body like a little Auburrito (a strategy that we think was the key coma-inducer), we velcro’d her in that thing so tight we thought her head was going to pop off, we prayed the same exact prayer, kissed her toes in the same order, and combed her hair the same way.
And guess who slept for seven hours straight once again?
This girl.
“Weeeeell, hello Mommy!”
“Um, is somebody going to get me out of this straightjacket? Anyone? Bueller?”
“I’m free!”
“And ready to wiggle! Everybody dance with me!”
Thank you, Jesus, for sleep!
Now, off to perform the same exact routine… going for night number three!
Given the 2% chance that we’d get an inch of snow today, all schools within a 100 mile radius shut down, as well as the area’s biggest corporations, our airport and government offices.
Hey, it’s the coast. That’s how we roll.
When I woke up this morning after two beautiful hours of sleep (thank you, newborn), I had a toddler turbo-fueled by grape juice for breakfast (thank you, daddy). Add to that, I had three projects on deadline and not a bit of quiet time (thank you, canceled school) or brain power (thank you, no sleep) to get them done.
But at least somebody had fun.
And, just for the record, I was successful in completing one of my three projects. Thanks only to toffee coffee and a carton of milk duds. Only took drastic measures like that lovely diet, six hours of sporadic brain barfing, industrial strength earplugs and a brief stay in a padded room.
Snow snow go away, come again on a Tuesday or Thursday.
Thank you,
a Monday/Wednesday/Friday working momma
Filed under: Holidays
I’m back. For a second. Finally getting around to posting the all-things-Christmas post. Taylor is currently in the midst of a playdate with her friend-that-is-a-boy (Daddy faints when we say “boyfriend”) and Aubri is on the tail-end of her nap. So I have approximately 12 minutes to get two weeks of updates posted.
Here goes nothin’.
I attempted to get some Christmas-ey shots of the girls. Individually they did OK.
But by the time I got them together, they were over it.
So, this was our best shot… and our Christmas e-card.
Not all moments are as “eventful” as the card shoot. They are capable of being simultaneously content.
Aside from our don’t-try-this-at-home photo shoots and casual lounging (hahaha… lounging… that’s funny), we had a TON of Christmas commitments.
Like cookie decorating playdates.
Lunch dates with Daddy, Nana and Grandpa.
Taking in our first 3d movie, Yogi Bear.
Trailing behind a riding lawnmower as it traveled through parking lots. (Ahem, I mean enjoying a ride on the Polar Express train).
Did I mention that it was really, really cold to be riding a mower train?
Attending Taylor’s school’s Christmas concert. (She’s the one on the bottom right, with the microphone horn.)
Making and delivering goodies to our friends and neighbors.
Building/eating a gingerbread choo choo train.
Playing Barbie with Uncle Matt.
Posing for a quick picture here and there.
Taking self-portraits. (This was supposed to be of me and her… but I see now who she truly wanted to photograph).
Loving on Uncle Matt.
And before we knew it, Christmas Day was here.
Elf Aubri was excited.
And Tay was thrilled to get her first 4×4.
Mid-day power naps were common among all parties.
Except for Taylor, who seemed to be constantly on the move enjoying her toys. Like more new wheels.
Tay proved to us that she takes helmet-wearing seriously. She felt it necessary to wear a plastic dome on her head as she test-drove yet another set of new wheels.
All while Aubri was… still power napping.
Christmas “morning” lasted through 5pm. Take the Aubri evidence above, we were all exhausted.
Next up was New Years Eve. The neighborhood kids all gathered for a New Year’s Feast and playdate complete with snacks, sparking juice and cake.
Followed by show-off-your-new-wheels time in the cul-de-sac.
Whew. And that, in a nutshell, was our holidays.
I promise to get back to my normal reflective, insightful writer self soon… which may be sometime around when the girls turn 14 and have locked themselves into their room with a “keep out, Mommy” sign on their door. That should give me some time to sit still/think.
But, for now, my time is up. Taylor’s playdate just left and Aubri is preparing to launch into a feed-me freak out, so I’m exiting the virtual building.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, ya’ll.
Mommy, out.
Peanut and Poppy 