feet up again

Well, hello world!

I’m awake and alive with a little bit crazy mixed in.

This is the third picture I have taken of approximately the same thing.  Me with my feet up.  This has been the position I could have been found in at almost any minute  for the last two weeks. Notice those fancy red shoes? I picked those this morning as I was out with a friend who somehow knew I needed to get out of the house.

See that pretty, bright dress?  Another dear friend dropped that off, along with another dinner, as nonchalantly as if she were bringing in the newspaper from my driveway.  It’s things like this that make the bad days less…bad.

Some sassy shoes on my feet as I sit on the couch. A comfy dress to wear since anything with a waist band is still less than desirable.  A phone call from my mom telling me what a great time she is having with Isabel.  A meal in the fridge so I don’t have to think about it.

KNOWING PEOPLE CARE.

The dress and the shoes are fab.  The dinner will be amazing and delicious.  But the best part of these slow, down days are the minutes when it is undeniable that people care about you.  That they want to help or be there.

Surgery did not quite go as I had planned two weeks ago.  I signed the papers listing all the risks and went to sleep quite pleasantly, knowing I would wake up and in a week or two be pretty much back to normal.  Instead, I woke up hearing the nurse and Dr. talking somewhat frantically.  I heard talk about bleeding but couldn’t wrap my anesthetized brain around the things being said.

It wasn’t until much later in the day that I was able to ask Jesse if they had actually cut me or something? He looked at me as no one else can and said,

“Yeah honey.  They did.  You were bleeding way too much.  They had to.”

Not what I had anticipated.

A few minutes later the energetic nurse arrived to check on me and grabbed the covers right off my belly with an exclamation,

“Let’s take a look at that incision!”

Wait…WHAT?  I knew in my head they had cut me but was not prepared to see yet another angry scar across my body.  This one sloping downward to the right across my lower belly.  Bright and red and scary.

And so, two weeks later I can still be found with my feet up.

It just to happens they have fun red shoes on them and I have yet a few more affirmations that I have amazing friends and family.

teens

It is the birthday of this sassy girl and she is party-ing it up in Utah with grandparents and cousins while I lay around in disbelief that I have a full fledged teen.

Isabel is 13 today!!   (and since she is not here to protest, her birthday picture for this post will be that of 6 year old Isabel instead of 13 year old Isabel.  also because I don’t have a picture of her from today yet!)

I am crossing my fingers and toes that the teen years are not as bad as everyone warns me they will be.  Seriously though, how can this little beauty be anything but lovely, right?

Isabel at 13:

• favorite color: pink and green
• favorite song: “Moments” by One Direction (she’s a little obsessed)
• favorite book: Mockingjay
• favorite movie:  Prom
• favorite food: chocolate
• favorite thing to do: read and sing

Isabel has been swimming with me twice a week for the last two months or so and has become quite a strong young lady.  She enjoys playing her violin at school and occasionally even at home.  This year she has had quite a few academic achievements and has enjoyed 7th grade.  She made it into advanced math and even says she wants to be a math teacher because her math teacher was such a great one.  (I am so thankful for those good teachers!)

Happiest of Birthdays my pretty little teen! Even if you aren’t so little anymore!

more musical epiphanies, this time grungy

When I was in high school, back in the days of flannel and grunge and bagel shops, I was slightly obsessed with a little band called Toad the Wet Sprocket.  I really didn’t like much of the grunge music, or any current music for that matter.  Except Toad.  I would listen to songs over and over and had all of them memorized.  I thought of the “sad” things in my life and felt something resembling teen angst about all the wrongs in the world.

I look back at that high school girl and laugh a little at some of the thoughts she had.  How many times she wanted “everything to just be fine and happy.”  Don’t we all, young Erin, don’t we all.  Too bad you didn’t realize how fine and happy things were back then!

The other day a line in a song flashed through my head while I was showering after a particularly hard swim.  The line was from a song named “Butterflies” and it wasn’t even one of my favorite songs so I was a little surprised I remembered it.  Until I thought about it for a minute.  The line was this:

“Ya know when you get so close to something that BIG you can’t see anything at all…”

Sometimes I find myself staring at something that seems incredibly huge and I can’t make heads or tails of it.  I can’t work it out and the more I think about it, or stare at it, the less it makes sense and the more I feel lost and confused.  Jesse is constantly reminding me to let things go, to step back if you will.  Take in the bigger picture.  Get a good look at what I am dealing with before letting it get to me.

What if all the “big” things in our lives aren’t really that big at all?

While in the midst of an internal struggle with my own mind, it came to me.  What if instead of having a huge mountain in front of me, I am actually really only dealing with a medium sized rock?  And what if, I am just too darn close to it to be able to really see what it actually is?

I’ve been scrutinizing the mountains in front of me for a few days and have realized some of them were actually more like pebbles.  I was just holding them too close to my eyes.  Couldn’t see around them.

And the ones that are mountains, well, they look quite majestic and beautiful from where I am standing.

I’m pretty sure I can tackle those in time.

As long as I am able to step back and realize what I am looking at.

 

birthdays

Just a week later and already time to celebrate another birthday, my mom.  Grandma Sidney.

Grandma and Grandpa have been coming down to visit at least twice a year since we moved here.  They usually stay about a week and the entire time is devoted to spending time with each of us.  If there is one thing my mom likes to do, it is to make memories with the kids.  She finds things on the internet and sends them fun things in the mail, or brings them with her when she visits.  She does things deliberately and each grandchild, or child for that matter, knows they are thought of.

When my parents come to visit I can plan on them bringing home canned jams, or a cooler full of frozen raspberries.  While they are here, they purchase all the groceries so that the cupboard and pantry is more full when they leave.

My kids know Grandma Sidney is always good for a hamburger and fries.  She came by that naturally because that is what her parents did as well.  Grandma has passed on the love of a good burger and we sure love her for that!  (and so much more)

Grandma Sidney is nothing if not fair.  She never wants anyone to feel left out or like she loves them less than anyone else.  This has meant for some great experiences for our children and their cousins.  When each of our children were baptized, my parents brought down a cousin to be with them.  Three cousins and each got to have the same great surprise.

All my life I knew my mom would have my back.  She would fight for me not matter what and sometimes just knowing that was enough.  With each surgery I’ve had I knew my mom would be with me at each step, either in spirit or in person.  I KNEW my mom was thinking about me every second she wasn’t with me.  And I knew she wanted so badly to help any way she could.

Love you Mom.  And happy birthday, Grandma!!

(Mom in Mirazozo, the art you can walk through 3/17/12)

mothering

I have read a lot of posts on motherhood in the last month or so. I have written a few of my own even. And usually on Mother’s Day I try to honor my mom and Jesse’s mom with a special post.

I love both of them and am so thankful to them for giving us life. For teaching us to be good people. And for loving us each and every day.

This year, my Mother’s day post is going to be a little different. In five days I will be going back to the hospital to have yet another surgery. This time to remove all the “parts” that allowed me to become a mother nearly 13 years ago. About a month ago I went to the Dr. for a routine check up and to make sure I was being proactive and on top of things. That is what I thought anyway.

After a short discussion with the Dr and her looking through my chart, she had ordered an ultrasound and was already talking about doing a complete hysterectomy, removing everything… just precautionary. That is, until the ovarian ultrasound was complete.

Of course, since nothing is certain until biopsied, it is time for the “parts”to come out to make sure “something” is actually “nothing.”

I have thought about the first 10 years of my marriage over and over and over again…what if I had chosen a different path? What if I had decided my career was more important to me than getting married so young? What if I had planned on not having children until I had xx amount of money in the bank, or the right house, or what have you? What if, what if, what if….

Well, the answer to the what ifs doesn’t matter because I did get married at 19. I had babies in my early to mid 20′s. We struggled with money and worried about life like everyone else. We checked in on our angelic sleeping babies and gushed over how amazing they were. We have lost patience when they are headstrong or stubborn. We have celebrated their triumphs and felt the heaviness of their disappointments.

We had kids. I became a mom.

No matter the trials being a mom brings, today, on Mother’s day five days before the possibility of motherhood is taken from me, I am so thankful for that silly 19 year old girl and the boy who fell in love with her. I am so thankful they followed their guts and had 3 beautiful babies.

Today, I am SO thankful to be a Mother.

birthdays

It’s time for another birthday post.  This time, my dad.  He is mostly just Grandpa around these parts.

My dad is a man of few words.  Unless you get him talking about a hunting trip or some adventure.  Then he has more than a few words!  My dad has hunted with my brothers every year for as long as I can remember.  While the boys hunted, my mom and I did some hunting of our own by way of the malls.  He was always sure to leave me “hunting money.”

Grandpa is always good for a fishing trip or a baseball game.  The boys love doing these things with him.

A few months ago I asked my dad if he would help me build a picnic table.  He has become something of a woodworker in the last few years.  Of course he said he would be happy to help. (secret: I already knew he would agree.)  I ended up telling my mom I would have to put it off because I didn’t want to spend the extra money right now. Sure enough, a few days later my dad called and asked if I wanted him to get wood cut for the table.  I reiterated that I didn’t want to spend that money right now, to which he responded,

“That wasn’t what I was asking.”

Without saying the words, I knew he was telling me it was something he wanted to do.

He doesn’t always say a whole lot, but you know where you stand when something is said.  Thanks for all your quiet generosity over the years, Dad.

Happy birthday Grandpa!

(one of my favorite photos of my dad…the day Luke finally came home from the hospital)

gathering thoughts

The past few weeks have been something of a blur.  Most days have been filled with many little busy things…you know, the things we do while raising a family.

Along with the everyday I have found myself visiting a friend in the hospital, driving to be with a friend in need as she starts a new chapter of her life, making my way to a handful of Dr. appointments, spending the morning with some friendly police officers after they were called on a friend and me(that’s a first for me! it was kind of funny), an induction ceremony to NJHS for Isabel, a wedding shower, a wedding, another baptism, a fun filled weekend with family, and a lot of introspection.

Various songs have drifted through my thoughts.  Various feelings have reached the surface and were then replaced with others, and more still.

And now I find myself silent.

Not much on my mind to write, not much in my mouth to be said.  Just stillness.

I review the hopes I have felt for those I love.  The fears and sorrows for those I am worried about.  The joy for those who have been blessed.  And I feel those same feelings for myself as well.

So I will gather my thoughts and pray some more prayers.  I will do what we all do and move through the days and try to live as best I can.