Most unsettling

So I'm sitting in the living room this afternoon with Sara. She is doing her Sara thing, wandering here & there and generally wearing me out. She heads down this tiny little hallway where she actually can't get into any trouble and a minute later comes toddling back to me, hand outstreched and fully intent on handing over whatever it is that she's found. This is quite unusual.

It is poo.

It is hers.

And I have no idea where it came from.


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On a lighter note, I nearly had a complete breakdown today. I comtemplated running away from home but decided against it. I'm going to give it another day. We'll see how things go.

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Today I not only thought but actually said, out loud, "Lord, I'm not sure how much more of this I can take." I was serious.

Then He decided to try me on it. Really? Not nice.

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I can honestly say that these days are the most spiritually trying of my life. I have never prayed with such specificity and desperation -- even when Mom was so sick, it was more like rote begging than actual prayer.

I keep thinking that when we come out of all of this I'm going to be so much more "mature" and "faithful."

Fat chance.

there is nothing sadder than an empty crib

i know a lot of people will cringe when i say this, but right now it feels very true:

nothing in the world makes me as happy as she does. nothing even comes close. now, it is also true that nothing makes me feel as tired, or as nervous, or as inadequate, or as overwhelmed. but it's a fair trade i think.

tonight sara b is staying with the brenners. i love them for it, as very very soon i plan on taking these tylenol pm tablets sitting next to me, peeling out my contacts, and snuggling in for a long winter's nap. my aunt elaine is here to help out with dad and, with no baby itching to start the day at the crack of dawn, i hope to get caught up on some much needed sleep.

enter the empty crib.

i don't know what it is, but walking into the room tonight and seeing her empty crib made me feel so sad. it was about the time i would be giving her her last bottle -- the only time of day she will actually sit with me, content to be quiet and still. her blanket was there, and the toys she pitched onto the floor from her nap earlier today. the bink was close by, just in case. but the reason for it all was missing.

i'm such a sap.

the picture with this post is a familiar sight: here mama, open this up so we can play with it. ok bear, we can play with it. tomorrow, we can play all you like. i promise.

Ha Ha Ha

Ladies, I am sooo sorry. Really.

the rubber met the road

really, it would be more accurate to say that the shit hit the fan but i thought that seemed a little too much for a title.

dad had an appointment scheduled with his oncologist today. he needed to have some blood drawn the day before so when i got home from work yesterday he asked me to go get the car warmed up. no problem.

on the way out of the house he nearly fell sideways into the shrubs. and this was while using his walker. (it is quite likely that his balance is failing again due to changes/growth in the tumors.) anyway, nanci caught him, he thanked her and we kept on walking. i opened the car door for him and he started to walk around to the driver's side door and... i'm sure you can see where this is going. i asked what he was doing, he said he was going to drive, i said i thought that wasn't a good idea, he said he wouldn't get his blood test, i said that was his choice. he threw a tantrum (an odd sight coming from a 72-year-old). and then things really got ugly.

the good news (good news??) is that my siblings and i are all on the same page about this. actually, every sane person in the world except for my father is on the same page about this. (perhaps that means that my dad is no longer sane. i hadn't really considered that before.) too bad for me, i was the one that had to actually call him on it. since then my brother & sister have both talked to him about the "episode" and now he is equally pissed off at all of us. he even asked my sister for the car keys again today and when she said no he refused to go to his oncology appointment. awesome. good choice, dad. good choice.

now he's not eating. he isn't talking to any of us except sara, which is better than i expected if you want to know the truth.

what's also "good," in a manner of speaking, is that i'm not really upset about it. normally i feel a lot of guilt -- not to mention a nausating pit in my stomach -- whenever i am in a confrontational situation. this time, i really feel ok. not happy, not glad, not vindicated, just ok. i would feel worse if he were driving. i would never forgive myself if something happened because i caved.

maybe i'm growing up? or maybe my nightly prayers for wisdom/compassion/strength/patience are paying off?

maybe they are.

Plug-plug chug-chug

More and more I remember my Mom saying that time goes faster the older you get. When I was a kid that annoyed me. Now it scares me.

Anyway, we are plugging along here on Washington Boulevard. I am home today with some sort of unpleasant stomach bug. I'm actually feeling much better now than I did this morning at 3:30, when I spent some quality time in the loo. Didn't feel like risking dicey moments at work so here I am. Work is fine, but it's still work. I dream of a time when I get to stay home and take care of my family. I know that's not a popular dream any more, but it's mine. So, I keep my fingers crossed.

Sara is great, as usual. Well, maybe I don't think that when she is climing out of her high chair (she actually had one leg out this A.M. -- fantastic), throwing fits, pulling everything in sight onto the ground, and head butting me. So, she's developing an independent streak. I guess I thought I had another year before that became an issue but what do I know? (Not very much apparently.) Still, most of the time she is more fun than I would have imagined. She loves loves loves the kitties (in fact "kitty" is her first real word), loves to stack and throw her buckets, loves to push her truck (kudos to Uncle David, because I never would have thought to get her a truck), loves to screech, loves to throw things (she's got her Grandma Sara's arm), loves to play peek-a-boo, loves to hug her teddy bear, loves to babble, loves being_awake__ for__ a___really___long____time_______. She says "kitty" and "hat" and "night-night" and "hi" and "Mama" (at least I think that's what she's saying) and "Pete" (which, naturally, came long before "Mama"). She generally knows where her ears, nose, and tummy are, if she feels like showing you. She's usually got at least two bruises - one on her face - at all times because she's a monkey-girl. She is trying to run but wipes out every time. Her hair is crunchy by lunchtime and she tends to reek of sour milk by dinner (those neck folds are a killer). She loves bathtime and hates getting changed. She loves to have people sing to her, never mind if it sounds good or makes any sense. She falls asleep when we say prayers every night. She is an everyday roller coaster of the very best kind.

And boy, does she wear me out.

Rob started classes this week. He's taking something that has to do with circuits and a lab. Seems to like it so far which is good. The beard is back which makes him happy be me, not so much. (I just read a post somewhere that listed the top 10 blogging cliches and "not so much" was among them. Guess I'd better clean up my act.) I don't know why I'm not so crazy about the beard, because I think it looks good enought, but... Anyway, I live with it. He's enjoying the Eagles games and his new PDA. He's still a self-confessed slob but helps me out probably more than most husbands even though I don't usually acknowledge it, so I think I'll keep him.

Dad is Dad. We take everyday as it comes. I remind myself, when I remember, that time really is of the essence here. I had better make the best of everything even when it's not very pleasant. Sara and I pray every night for we-don't-know-what and then I hope that I get it right. That's about all there is to do I suppose.

So there's a little snapshot of us these days. We're kind of like the Little Engines That Never Would Have Believed We Could, but apparently we can. Most days it's despite ourselves, but we just keep plugging along up the mountain. (I have to admit though, that I'm looking forward to coming down the other side.)

Family

You've got to love them, right?

Right?

(Well, this one for sure.)

christian-speak: maybe it's just a mad lib?

in following some links via one of bill's recent posts i came across this passage:

"Here is how Pastor Bugh described his wife’s struggle with cancer and death: “Cancer is horrible. We hate it. My wife had a horrible experience, and she died a brutal death. On the other hand, we believe God is sovereign. He doesn’t delight in this. God permits what he hates in order to accomplish what he loves. It’s part of his plan.” In a conversation the day before she died Rob related to the reporter that Carol had expressed a deep disappointment about leaving her family behind. Rob notes that he assured her “We’re going to be OK. Life on the other side, in the presence of Jesus, was going to be incredible.”

"God permits what he hates in order to accomplish what he loves."

this, for me, is one of those empty christianisms that is meant to be hopeful but ultimately leaves me without any greater understanding. i am quite aware that my response to this is more visceral than academic (because i don't really know how letting people die long, painful deaths accomplishes anything that God loves) -- but putting personal experience aside, i just don't get it. i can't follow the logic, or even conclude that it is logical at all.

does someone smarter than me want to fill in the blanks? i promise, i'm not being cynical. there is no eye-rolling going on as i type. i'm really just looking for some hope.

honest.

sucker punched

nope, i didn't see this thing with dad coming. to be sure i didn't imagine him really getting better, but i didn't see this.

you would think i would be an old hand at dealing with this. i can't imagine that many people have both of their parents develop brain cancer (for the love of God i hope it doesn't happen to many people). the thing is, it's different this time around. with mom we fought it (even if she didn't), we stupidly hoped, we kicked and screamed and begged for a miracle. even when she went to hospice i thought we had months left with her, not the two days that, in hind sight, were a merciful end to the worst experience of our lives.

but that's not what we're doing now. dad said if this ever happened to him he wasn't going to get treatment, and so here we are. now it's just a waiting game and i feel terribly guilty about it. i wonder if he'll be here for christmas, or his birthday, or sara's birthday -- and does he wonder the same thing, too? i wonder if he feels cheated because we're just letting this happen. i wonder if he feels abandoned. i wondered if it's scary, just waiting to die. i want to do something, anything, to make it better for him. what can i do? really, what can i do?

lopsided conversations

so i was talking with sara tonight. we do that sometimes, when she is not such a monkey during prayers and is so tired that she has little choice but to lay across my chest and listen to me carry on.

i tell her a lot about my mom. i think it's for both of us, really. i want her to know as much about her as she can, and i don't want to forget. i usually end up crying, of course... i'm hoping that after awhile i'll get a grip so that when she's old enough to understand i will have myself pulled together.

tonight i told her that when she gets bigger we can go down to the lake and stay up late and look at the stars. (you can see SO MANY stars down there.) i'm going to have to polish up on my consellations because, despite what i thought when i signed up for astronomy at butler, we didn't really cover the constellations. anyway, thinking about the stars reminded me of when i was a kid and i thought that the stars were all the people in heaven. i never had a grandfather so i would look up at the stars and find the one that was his. i have a vivid memory of one christmas, on the way home from my grandmother's farm, picking a star and watching it follow us the whole way home, and it was sort of nice to imagine him looking at us along the way.

and then i wondered if sara will pick a star for my mom. it made me a little sad and a little happy all at the same time. i kind of wish i could still do it, if you want to know the truth. it would be nice to see her again.

who ever heard of sleeping in on the weekends?

so, it's 7:20am on saturday morning. i've been up for... about 2 1/2 hours? something like that.

trying desperately not to be frustrated with my husband who, rather than getting close enough to our daughter to realize that she did indeed have poo on her boo (a fate worse than death in her opinion) opted instead to toss a few toys in her crib and pull the pillow over his head. all that this managed to accomplish was to get her more wound up and angrier about above said poo.

i let a few minutes pass, hoping in vain that she would settle down but alas -- at a little after 5:00 (yes that's AM) i hauled my ever-widening butt out of bed to clean up her boo, and knew that my day had already started without me. and now, at 7:20, the bear is back in bed for a nap. at 7:20.

fantastic.

and i wonder why i can't seem to lose the dark circles under my eyes. because you know there's only so much the mary kay concealer can do.

***

planning for the big first birthday "party." i feel a little lame for being this excited about it but i haven't had much of anything fun to look forward to over the last year and i never get to entertain. the part of me that has reason to see mike spencer is convinced that no one will come, but the rest of me doesn't so much care.

to that end, i went to borders looking for birthday cake ideas. found a great book (which i then checked out from the library -- though i might opt to buy it from my favorite local bookseller) and it is chockablock with some pretty tasty looking cake recipes. in a bold move on the author's part, it is titled birthday cakes.

***

need to make a run to the storage unit. we had (obviously) not planned to still be here at dad's and all of our fall/winter clothes and coats are packed somewhere in there. i'm tired just thinking about having to find what we need.

***

looking forward to hearing the indianapolis arts chorale tomorrow at meridian street methodist. i do miss singing. maybe someday... will have to get some lessons first though. sara doesn't so much care about the static in my voice but i suspect that wouldn't be true of the director.

***

with the trip to philly fast approaching i am beginning to wonder how/if we will be able to sleep while we're there. i'm not sure how the pack & play is going to fly as "crib." frankly i don't think it would be all that comfortable. anyone have suggestions?





***

better to find some breakfast. the bear's snore will turn into a roar before i know it.

going nowhere fast

so, we spent (at least i spent) the last month or so making peace with the fact that rob, sara, and i need to move. we long outgrew my old bedroom, sara's sleeping habits are a mess, and i am beginning to feel less & less like a wife/mother and more and more like the lady that lives at the fraternity house, fighting a losing battle with the chaos and the mess but determined to get a hot meal on the table every night in spite of it all.

we found a house that we liked (or at least that we thought we could afford) and went so far as to get pre-approved for the loan. and then dad went into the hospital again. and now he seems weaker than ever, and just like that the game changed.

our "lets stay with dad to help him through chemo" plan is history. like it or not, i don't think dad is ever really going to get better -- at least not to a point where i would feel good about him being alone for any stretch of time. no, now the game has defintely changed, and we're going to need a lot more players. here's hoping we can work as a team. (heaven help us if we can't.)

so the sad truth is that we still can't do this anymore, but unfortunately we can't do anything else. i suspect it's going to be a long ride. very, very long.

here's what i need to make it through:
-- a better diet and exercise (i don't want to confess how much weight i've gained since we moved here... stress, anyone?)
-- some major clean-up and minor (but key) renovation
-- a room for sara that is all her own
-- regular time away from the grind
-- occasional dates with my husband
-- reminders that really, it's going to be OK
-- prayers
-- a much better attitude
-- more sleep

here we go!

an advent christian

for a long time i've believed that there is something immature about being an advent christian. you know -- all the hope with none of the pain. and trying to be an easter christian has always been a struggle for me.

but now i think it's got to be ok to be an advent christian.

just to be clear, i'm not talking the first four sundays leading up to christmas, but all year long. for me this means feeling close to God in the wonder of Him, in the mystery and quietness of Him. my kind of advent christianity is the cold, dark, clear, bright night that was full of questions and probably fear but also promise. there is a stillness and curiosity about it, and for me a thankfulness that God came to be with us, live like us, love us in the flesh.

the other night i started singing to sara and i realized that all the songs were advent songs. i like them because they are simple melodies that speak of the fulfillment of the promise and the hope of what's to come. they are calming to me, but still stir me up in a way that no praise song has ever done. i mean how much more exciting can it be?? God is coming! here! now! and He's going to live with us for awhile! can you believe it?!

no, i'm not pretending that that's the end of the story. there is much more scripture devoted to the rest of Jesus' life and i have to assume that is not merely happenstance. we are an Easter people -- i get it. (i don't get it enough, but i get it.) but i am also an advent girl, that's how i feel closest to Him. and if that's the case, it can't be so bad, right?

it was the worst of times, it was the best of times.

woke up this AM with a raging headache. never a good sign, those first-thing-in-the-morning headaches. to make matters worse, i had to have some blood drawn and couldn't eat anything to try and take the edge off. that first cup of coffee, it can work wonders -- no?

so anyway. i stumbled through my morning, got the blood draw, made it to work (15 mintues late). managed to get something to eat and at least a little bit of my beloved java before the patients started and for one brief, shining moment i thought i had turned a corner.

not so much. by the time my second kiddo arrived my head was pounding, i felt sick, i could barely stand the light (and the light in a flouro suite is dim, let me tell you). i called it a day and with just a brief a stop for a soda (seriously, thought i was going to hurl) to wash down a handful of advil i headed home -- straight for bed which is mucho unusual for me. but then, bliss.

i had THE BEST nap, ever. EH-VER. i don't remember the last time i slept so well, so comfortably, so restfully. my whole body relaxed in a way i didn't know was possible. when i woke up i felt fantastic, better than i have in months. years. maybe better than i ever have in my life. i decided that this is how you must feel in heaven. even my teeth felt rested.

man alive. that was one good nap. i'm almost afraid to go to bed tonight... it's bound to be a disappointment.