She Takes My Heart

She takes my heart and runs with it.  I chase her.  Not to get it back, I want her to have it.  But to run with her, playing that frivolous childhood game where the wind, cool against my face, tousles my hair, and I am a giddy schoolgirl again.  I feel like flying.

All the while, we sit, she and I, rocking.  Cuddling.  Snuggling together.

But while we sit, she takes my heart and runs with it.

Jill

The Cards I'm Dealt

I've recently started a book called Redefining the Three Rs:  Relax, Refocus, Recharge by Anthony D. Fredericks.  It was given to me by the author when I worked in the library after he came and did a presentation for the students.  It's a collection of two-page "devotional" type writings, geared towards teachers, but anyone could read it.  I try to read a page a day.

Today's reading was titled "Be Grateful."  A few lines struck me, especially after Tuesday's stressfulness and yesterday's calm after the storm.  Fredericks says:  "Life is not fair.  Life is full of bumps, twists, and turns, potholes and dead ends, and other challenges along the road.  Life is not about being fair.  It's about what we do with the cards we are dealt."

I thought about those lines quite a bit today.  I thought about how there are many days when I'm dealt a hand that I just want to fold.  I keep hoping--no, I am fighting--to make that royal flush with the cards I'm dealt, but usually, I get pairs and three of a kinds.  Every once in a while, I get a straight flush for a surprise.  They're all winning hands, but I'm really, REALLY trying hard to make that royal flush.

The Help

Yesterday was a very stressful day, and I hate to admit it, but it was one of those days where I wondered if I could really continue doing this.

Lily woke up and wasn't as cheery as she usually is, but then she perked up a little.  Later, though, she was on the floor with her legs pulled up to her chest and making sounds like she just wasn't very comfortable, so I picked her up and noticed that she sounded snotty.  I thought she was uncomfortable from that, so I sprayed some saline drops in her nose.  I think that was a little more than she could handle because she began gagging and ultimately vomited all down my shirt.  Yuk!  She continued to vomit, so I just took her into the bathroom and jumped in the shower with her.  She was fine in the shower and fine when I took her out, but about five minutes later, she started gagging again and that led to more vomiting.  She eventually  calmed down, but I noticed she sounded as if she needed to cough because her chest was a little rattly, so I gave her a breathing treatment.  After the treatment, she began gagging again, so I rushed her over to the sink where she vomited some more, but this time, after vomiting, she began crying this high-pitched squeal.  Basically, it was the same sound she's made before when she had a bad diaper rash and I would change her diaper.  It sounded like pain, so I decided to take her to the emergency room.

It took me three times down the road (about a five minute drive from home) before I could finally get on my way because I kept thinking about things I might need at the ER.  Dave was expecting me to drop off Soleil at his school, so he called wondering where I was.  I basically told him that I was in such a "tizzy," and I was trying to make it but I kept going back home to get things.  I was having a hard time getting it all together--literally and metaphorically.

Going to the ER is never fun.  All I can wonder is what type of poking and prodding are they going to do to my little girl.  It's almost like she's more of a science experiment than my Lily.  And I hated that I had to be the one to take her to watch all of that.  At least if Dave takes her I can be in denial.

But I also was thinking about how I didn't want to drop Soleil off at Dave's school.  She won't take a bottle, so I didn't know how she would be for him.  I surely didn't want to disturb his teaching.  Luckily, his work is a very family friendly place, and they welcome Soleil if I ever need to drop her off.  Still, it bothered me.  

I wanted to call my mom for help, but she's about three hours away, so that wouldn't have done any good.  And I have friends here who would gladly help at the drop of a dime, but I feel as if I rely on them so much and I don't want them to feel as if I'm taking advantage of them.  It was just more than I could handle--that needing someone to rush in like Superman (or woman), yet being so trapped in my ability to call out for that help.  And it weighed very heavily on my mind.

Luckily, the ER visit was mild.  No blood was drawn, no oxygen insert, no science experiments.  They did do an ultrasound to see if Lily had intussusception (basically where the intestines fold into themselves), but that came back negative.  They said it could have happened and may not happen again, or it could.  We discussed whether to cath for UTI but decided against it. So they sent us home.


When I got home, there was a package in the mail.  Again, I don't know who sent it, but I feel as if there was great Divine Intervention behind it.  The book, The Help, and a gift certificate to Starbucks was in that package.  (NOT AT ALL what I intended to happen when I wrote the Financial Peace post!  But I very humbly say, Thank you to whomever sent it.)  I've yet to read the book, but I saw the movie, so I know the premise of the story, and I know it doesn't really fit my situation, but I couldn't help focusing on the title.  The Help.  Exactly what I needed today but just couldn't lift my voice to call out for it.  And the thing is, and this helps confirm it, I have friends out there.  They are giving friends, and they don't expect anything in return for that gift.  They know that I am willing to help them as much and whenever there is a time that they need help.  It's what friends do.  And the gift certificate, well, that was someone knowing that I needed to relax after that stressful day, and what better way to do it than with a latte.  (And Dave has already been willing to watch the kids as I lay on the hammock in the backyard with my book and my latte.)


Lily did have another of those vomiting/crying episodes around bedtime, but so far, they haven't come back.  We're watching her closely, though.


As icing on the cake, when I opened up Facebook to my newsfeed this morning--which I rarely do anymore--I read this:

Please read--Not joking. . .God has seen YOU struggling with something.  God says its over.  A blessing is coming your way.  


I stopped reading and thought WOW!  Is God talking to me or what!  I can't wait to get that blessing!  I continued to read. . .


If you believe in God send this message on, please. . .

Ugh!  I definitely believe in God, but it's just a "policy" of mine not to send stuff like that out--religious or not.  Then I got bummed out thinking that maybe I wasn't going to receive a blessing.  Then I thought positively, and decided I wasn't going to let that sentence stop me from receiving my blessing.  Well, let me tell you, You don't have to forward that message!!!!!  I received quite a few blessings today.

• Lily kept all of her food down!  No vomiting!

• Lily, Soleil, and I sat outside on a blanket underneath a tree and admired one of the most beautiful blue skies I think I've ever seen.  The wind blew lightly, and I got to enjoy watching my girls question what that was blowing against their skin.  I was fascinated by their fascination with the way the grass felt under the blanket, and Soleil's timidness with crawling out onto the grass, yet wanting so badly to grab the leaf that was just out of reach.

• I got to talk to my best friend Yvonne for a few hours, even though the girls were awake for most of that time.  They behaved very well!

•  Our Wednesday night church service began tonight, and I met two new people (OK, so I'm not the greatest when it comes to meeting new people) and committed to a Thursday morning Bible study.

It was such a much-needed day after yesterday's struggle, and I'd say I was more than blessed!

For Caleb

The sky cried today knowing her rain would never graze your face again.
The tree weeped, for who would now play in his shade.
The wind whirled, for her fingers would never tickle your skin.
And the ground soaked in the sadness and realized he would miss the steps of your feet.
How our hearts broke along with theirs.
The sun peered down and saw the sky cry, the tree weep, and the wind whirl. He saw the ground's soaked sadness and our broken hearts, and he gently said, "Given time, this too shall pass, for my rays will break through these clouds of grief with hope and healing in the dawn of a new day."

Rest in peace, little one.

Jill