Today I learned something new: I like blueberry muffins. To be perfectly honest, I have always had a strong disdain for them. I have never enjoyed the version that you could get in the grocery store that used to be force fed to us in the Junior High and High School lunch programs.
A dear friend and her husband came over for dinner a few nights ago. They were bringing the dessert. They had made a chocolate cake and since they know I don't like chocolate (gasp! Pick your self up off of the floor and drive on), they brought a blueberry muffin and some other muffing that is sitting next to me waiting to be devoured. I told her I didn't like blueberry muffins and I think she felt a little sad, but the attempt totally made my heart feel so nice. :)
Since I hate blueberry muffins, I am sure you are wondering how on earth one ended up in my mouth. This morning I woke up and had a strange desire to try it. Maybe it's that I am riding off of the insanely high fumes of eating the world's greatest fettucini alfredo (and yes I am trying to earn brownie points. I want him to make me more! LOL), and I was willing to take a leap of faith and try them. Perhaps the trips have finally conquered all and made me insane... The reason why, I can not be certain of. However, I took the leap of faith, had a big glass of milk next to me to drink if I didn't like it, and dove in.
Um...deliciousness. Seriously. Maybe my friends just know how to make a mean blueberry muffin. I have no idea. But now I am sitting here wondering why the heck I did not dive into this blueberry mecca-in-my-mouth, deliciousness earlier!
I love discovering new things. It's one of my favorites. It is an experience that seems to become rarer and rarer as one ages. My children discover new passions, loves, obsessions, fascinations, experiences daily. It is a beautiful thing to watch that, develop it, and encourage it. I am often not a part of the discovery process (unless you count watching them discover, which I sort of do, but am not counting in regards to this post. And yes! I get to do that! This is my blog! haha!).
So what have I learned so far today? I like blueberry muffins and I am not afraid to admit it.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
tsunami's suck
I can feel so many emotions welling up in me. The end of our time together is coming to a close. The normal that exists now will change and we will have a new one...without him. When you start talking in weeks as opposed to months or like it's some distant moment far out on the horizon, is when the reality begins to set in. To say you miss someone is making such a molehill out of a mountain. To say it hurts is the same.
It all seems so melodramatic. It seems so cinematically poetic and ugly. Me standing there unwrapping my arms, and him going away. I can almost hear the music that would be playing in the background on that day...
It's weird because it all seems so normal in our completely insane lives. It seems so normal to walk into your home and to continue on with your day. But it always hits. Eventually. It also sucker punches you when you least expect it and the emotional tsunami washes over you. I promise you that even the strongest of women are nothing when that wave is washing over. It is a crippling experience. It is ugly.
I wish I could say that on this fifth experience I was more prepared. Perhaps I am. I suppose I know exactly what to expect. I know what will come. I know that I will survive and I will get through it. But each and every single deployment is different. There are no two alike. Circumstances have always changed. My children are older now. So instead of grieving and mourning by myself, I now have four who will grieve too. We all are going to endure this together.
I know that God will hold me in His capable hands. I have peace in regards to the moments, the situations. I know that He will guide me, hold me, comfort me, and lead me. I don't just know those things, I believe them.
I suppose what I wonder is, how long the tsunami and the damage that it causes will last.
It all seems so melodramatic. It seems so cinematically poetic and ugly. Me standing there unwrapping my arms, and him going away. I can almost hear the music that would be playing in the background on that day...
It's weird because it all seems so normal in our completely insane lives. It seems so normal to walk into your home and to continue on with your day. But it always hits. Eventually. It also sucker punches you when you least expect it and the emotional tsunami washes over you. I promise you that even the strongest of women are nothing when that wave is washing over. It is a crippling experience. It is ugly.
I wish I could say that on this fifth experience I was more prepared. Perhaps I am. I suppose I know exactly what to expect. I know what will come. I know that I will survive and I will get through it. But each and every single deployment is different. There are no two alike. Circumstances have always changed. My children are older now. So instead of grieving and mourning by myself, I now have four who will grieve too. We all are going to endure this together.
I know that God will hold me in His capable hands. I have peace in regards to the moments, the situations. I know that He will guide me, hold me, comfort me, and lead me. I don't just know those things, I believe them.
I suppose what I wonder is, how long the tsunami and the damage that it causes will last.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
The first child I ever gave birth to. :)
If you could know my oldest child, you would seriously be in awe. "Awe" is really the best word that I have to describe her. She is the world's most amazing kid.
In my opinion, she has a gazillion reasons to feel sorry for herself. She is the older sister of a set of triplets. She often gets overlooked while people ooh and ahh over her younger siblings. I can't even tell you the number of times that people start freaking out over the triplets, while completely ignoring her existence. Of course, they always follow up with some comment about how neat it is to be the big sister after I have pointed out that she is my oldest, but still...it kind of sucks for her. Her second birthday was spent in the hospital. Her final seven months alone with her mommy were basically destroyed by my being on strict bedrest. She grew up in a house where the sheer fact that we had three at one time was a very large force.
She is the most amazing child I have ever seen. She has the most beautiful heart. She is so loving! She sees it as such an honor, a duty, to lead others. She seriously studies her Bible. She does it without us telling her to, pointing her to, forcing her to. She just wants to be in God's word. She takes it to heart the idea of teaching the younger and being a good role model for the younger children that she is around. She reads stories to her siblings (and other kids), comforts children when they get hurt, and almost consistently, does what she is told.
She is the smartest child I have ever seen. Let me explain this, because a million mothers say this crap but rarely is it true. The girl TAUGHT HERSELF to read when she was three. I'm serious! She came out one day, and just started reading. We had not been going over it or trying to teach her. She just learned it. Truthfully, I had made it a goal to read at least two books to her every single day, but still...That was crazy. That was my first hint. The next is that she has a photographic memory. I am serious. To try to explain it to you...half way through the AWANA semester, she memorized ALL of the Bible verses that they had. Then, last Wednesday, she was told to memorize the entire book of James in the Bible...last night, guess what happened? The girl did! She memorized the whole thing! An ENTIRE book in the Bible! WHAT!? I mean, my husband and are smart, but this kid!? I swear she is on the level of genius! How does a child memorize a whole book in four days!?
I don't even really know how to communicate how amazing she is. It really has nothing to do with her intellectual ability, because quite frankly, she is still amazing without that. I think what makes her so fantastic in my mind is that she has the most beautiful heart. She was my first born. She was the first child that ever grew in my body. She was my first experience of what it was to take care of someone, to teach them, to train them in humanity, to prepare...Yes, I know that my preparing, teaching, taking care of, and training are not finished yet, but she has been my first. She is such a radiant light. I am so thankful for her.
So happy Birthday to my firstborn. I don't think this blog even begins to do justice to how absolutely wonderful you really are.
In my opinion, she has a gazillion reasons to feel sorry for herself. She is the older sister of a set of triplets. She often gets overlooked while people ooh and ahh over her younger siblings. I can't even tell you the number of times that people start freaking out over the triplets, while completely ignoring her existence. Of course, they always follow up with some comment about how neat it is to be the big sister after I have pointed out that she is my oldest, but still...it kind of sucks for her. Her second birthday was spent in the hospital. Her final seven months alone with her mommy were basically destroyed by my being on strict bedrest. She grew up in a house where the sheer fact that we had three at one time was a very large force.
She is the most amazing child I have ever seen. She has the most beautiful heart. She is so loving! She sees it as such an honor, a duty, to lead others. She seriously studies her Bible. She does it without us telling her to, pointing her to, forcing her to. She just wants to be in God's word. She takes it to heart the idea of teaching the younger and being a good role model for the younger children that she is around. She reads stories to her siblings (and other kids), comforts children when they get hurt, and almost consistently, does what she is told.
She is the smartest child I have ever seen. Let me explain this, because a million mothers say this crap but rarely is it true. The girl TAUGHT HERSELF to read when she was three. I'm serious! She came out one day, and just started reading. We had not been going over it or trying to teach her. She just learned it. Truthfully, I had made it a goal to read at least two books to her every single day, but still...That was crazy. That was my first hint. The next is that she has a photographic memory. I am serious. To try to explain it to you...half way through the AWANA semester, she memorized ALL of the Bible verses that they had. Then, last Wednesday, she was told to memorize the entire book of James in the Bible...last night, guess what happened? The girl did! She memorized the whole thing! An ENTIRE book in the Bible! WHAT!? I mean, my husband and are smart, but this kid!? I swear she is on the level of genius! How does a child memorize a whole book in four days!?
I don't even really know how to communicate how amazing she is. It really has nothing to do with her intellectual ability, because quite frankly, she is still amazing without that. I think what makes her so fantastic in my mind is that she has the most beautiful heart. She was my first born. She was the first child that ever grew in my body. She was my first experience of what it was to take care of someone, to teach them, to train them in humanity, to prepare...Yes, I know that my preparing, teaching, taking care of, and training are not finished yet, but she has been my first. She is such a radiant light. I am so thankful for her.
So happy Birthday to my firstborn. I don't think this blog even begins to do justice to how absolutely wonderful you really are.
Monday, February 14, 2011
Trips turn four
Today my triplets are four. I am amazed when I sit and contemplate all that has transpired between then and now. I am amazed to consider all that has changed and all that has come and gone. I suppose if I state it quite literally, my life is nothing like I imagined four years ago...but then again, to be honest, I don't know exactly what it is I imagined then, if there was anything at all. You see, for me, valentine's if forever...their birthday. It isn't chipper, happy, joyful, like so many mother's want their children's birthdays to be. It is painful. It is tainted with guilt (which has faded slightly this year). It is laced with horrible imagery, and the permanence of goodbye. It was, quite frankly, the most excruciating experience of my life.
I hear that one day I will no longer feel this way. I have heard that with the passage of time, I will begin to mark their birthdays as accomplishments. I have heard that eventually the sadness of goodbyes, and the complete destruction of the beautiful moments that all mothers visualize on their children's birthdays, will eventually disappear and become some distant memory. I have heard that this day will morph and change into a symphony of joy and laughter in the sheer wonder of how my amazing husband and I have made it through, and how very much our precious miracles have grown and changed. I have heard. But I'm not there yet.
You see, to me, this day is when I remember. We start every single birthday off with a blessing and a story. First, we thank God for another year completed and looking forward to the year ahead. We ask Him to guide, protect and take care of each child. Then we go through the story of their birth. It's a sort of fun way to bring into reality the crazy, funny, silliness of each of our children's coming into this world.
For my oldest triplet, that story is intense. You see...I wasn't numb when they began my C-section. I felt every cut, but under threat of general anesthesia, I bit my lip and tried to prevent myself from screaming (which I amazingly did while he cut through my skin). But when he got to my stomach muscles and uterus, my body reacted to the complete agony. By then it was too late to stop and A was already on her way out. By the time she was completely out, I was asleep. I have no idea the circumstance of B and C. I wasn't awake. This is the beginning of what felt awful.
I awoke in post op in a panic. I remember the second I could see light I immediately starting asking about them. I am amazed that I was lucid enough to ask, but it shows the overwhelming fear. My babies were born at thirty weeks. And I knew all of the odds against them. I knew that they would be in the NICU and that everything would be completely different from my birth experience with my oldest. I knew in a intellectual sense, but had no idea what I was about to face.
Even now, as I sit here and remember what occurred four years ago, my eyes are filling with tears and an emotional agony sweeps over me. Even now, with my three healthy, intelligent, beautiful four year olds asleep in their beds...it still hurts my heart. My arms feel empty. And I am broken.
I remember when they wheeled me into see them, that night...my first thought was, "I killed my babies". It was literally what I thought. They were so small. To say small doesn't even do it justice. You know a small bandaid? That was the size of their blood pressure cuff. Yeah...the CUFF! Diapers? They about the size of a silver dollar...and they were huge on the trips. Their skin? Transparent. Their legs? A little bit longer than my pointer finger. Their ribs? Could see every. single. one. Their lungs?...The space between their lungs was such a giant hole that I honestly could not imagine them looking any differently.
I was "prepared" for them to be sick. But yet I had no idea what I was going to see. To this day I don't even know how to explain the emotions. I don't think I have words.
I have a video that I made the day they told us that my smallest triplet had the beginning of bowel death. I made the video because I had to go home to take care of my oldest and I wanted it in case she died. That's how it was then. Life or death. Every hour, it was a new stress... In the video, I am begging her to fight. I remember when I was sitting there in the room, draped over her isolette (which is shaped like a coffin, I would just like to point out), bawling my eyes out and begging her, begging God, begging the world, to not let her die. I remember sitting there when "A" would de stat and her heart rate would be in the 40s and her O2 would be at about the same level and the nurses would rush in there and start messing with her and hurting her, in order to get her to react, wake up, and start beating her heart and breathing again. I remember holding my son while he turned completely gray, then blue, because he de statted and took forever to come out of it. I remember the nurses telling me I couldn't hold my children, or stick my fingers in their isolettes because their temperatures were too low. Can you imagine not being able to hold your newborn baby? Try that one on for size for weeks! We weren't allowed to touch our oldest triplet at all for the first two weeks of her life. We were just allowed to stand over her bed and talk to her through the glass. She was the sickest at first. I remember being struck by the fact that they were so weak that their cries were barely audible. They were like whisper cries. Imagine standing there, watching your baby cry...and not being able to hold them, or touch them. Just standing there...helpless.
The day they discharged me from the hospital was another form of torture. Here I was...going home to empty cribs, empty car seats, empty bouncy seats, swings, and all that comes with it...All of my constant reminders that my babies were fighting for their lives, because MY body wasn't capable of holding them in longer.
All of these scenarios are only skimming the surface of the seven weeks that I experienced children in the NICU. They are powerful and emotional. They are painful...STILL! But yet, on the flip side of the coin with the memories of so much heartache, are the moments when they said, "Her intestines healed!" When they said, "She hasn't de statted anymore, so no more caffeine and heart monitors for her!" When they said, "He weighs five pounds!" When they said, "You get to take them home!" ..... You get to take them home...
My miracles are four years old. They are beautiful and intelligent. They are head strong, and resilient. They are gentle and sensitive. They are caring and giving. They are amazing. They are beyond what I could have ever imagined and so much more than I could have hoped. They are HEALTHY!
I can't even begin to tell you about how blessed I am. I am blessed to have the painful start to their lives. I am blessed to know the sadness of goodbyes, and the appreciativeness of the irritating situations that toddlers put you through. I am thankful for their "challenges". I love every single second of life with them. I am thankful that God has given me such a beautiful, personal, perspective on appreciating my children. That He has allowed me to experience the very real possibility of losing them, and that in so doing, He has shown me that every moment, every second, is a very beautiful gift. Life is so fragile. I am thankful that I learned to appreciate them when they were so little. I think too often, parents forget to do that. At least I know I have been guilty of that.
I am so thankful. I will tell you though, every year my husband and I have a bit of a laugh as we travel down memory lane. We always say, "They haven't killed us yet...but tomorrow, we are certain, they will continue trying." haha.
Okay, in all seriousness though, I really can't wait to see how they will change throughout this next year. I am so blessed that I get to be a part of it.
I hear that one day I will no longer feel this way. I have heard that with the passage of time, I will begin to mark their birthdays as accomplishments. I have heard that eventually the sadness of goodbyes, and the complete destruction of the beautiful moments that all mothers visualize on their children's birthdays, will eventually disappear and become some distant memory. I have heard that this day will morph and change into a symphony of joy and laughter in the sheer wonder of how my amazing husband and I have made it through, and how very much our precious miracles have grown and changed. I have heard. But I'm not there yet.
You see, to me, this day is when I remember. We start every single birthday off with a blessing and a story. First, we thank God for another year completed and looking forward to the year ahead. We ask Him to guide, protect and take care of each child. Then we go through the story of their birth. It's a sort of fun way to bring into reality the crazy, funny, silliness of each of our children's coming into this world.
For my oldest triplet, that story is intense. You see...I wasn't numb when they began my C-section. I felt every cut, but under threat of general anesthesia, I bit my lip and tried to prevent myself from screaming (which I amazingly did while he cut through my skin). But when he got to my stomach muscles and uterus, my body reacted to the complete agony. By then it was too late to stop and A was already on her way out. By the time she was completely out, I was asleep. I have no idea the circumstance of B and C. I wasn't awake. This is the beginning of what felt awful.
I awoke in post op in a panic. I remember the second I could see light I immediately starting asking about them. I am amazed that I was lucid enough to ask, but it shows the overwhelming fear. My babies were born at thirty weeks. And I knew all of the odds against them. I knew that they would be in the NICU and that everything would be completely different from my birth experience with my oldest. I knew in a intellectual sense, but had no idea what I was about to face.
Even now, as I sit here and remember what occurred four years ago, my eyes are filling with tears and an emotional agony sweeps over me. Even now, with my three healthy, intelligent, beautiful four year olds asleep in their beds...it still hurts my heart. My arms feel empty. And I am broken.
I remember when they wheeled me into see them, that night...my first thought was, "I killed my babies". It was literally what I thought. They were so small. To say small doesn't even do it justice. You know a small bandaid? That was the size of their blood pressure cuff. Yeah...the CUFF! Diapers? They about the size of a silver dollar...and they were huge on the trips. Their skin? Transparent. Their legs? A little bit longer than my pointer finger. Their ribs? Could see every. single. one. Their lungs?...The space between their lungs was such a giant hole that I honestly could not imagine them looking any differently.
I was "prepared" for them to be sick. But yet I had no idea what I was going to see. To this day I don't even know how to explain the emotions. I don't think I have words.
I have a video that I made the day they told us that my smallest triplet had the beginning of bowel death. I made the video because I had to go home to take care of my oldest and I wanted it in case she died. That's how it was then. Life or death. Every hour, it was a new stress... In the video, I am begging her to fight. I remember when I was sitting there in the room, draped over her isolette (which is shaped like a coffin, I would just like to point out), bawling my eyes out and begging her, begging God, begging the world, to not let her die. I remember sitting there when "A" would de stat and her heart rate would be in the 40s and her O2 would be at about the same level and the nurses would rush in there and start messing with her and hurting her, in order to get her to react, wake up, and start beating her heart and breathing again. I remember holding my son while he turned completely gray, then blue, because he de statted and took forever to come out of it. I remember the nurses telling me I couldn't hold my children, or stick my fingers in their isolettes because their temperatures were too low. Can you imagine not being able to hold your newborn baby? Try that one on for size for weeks! We weren't allowed to touch our oldest triplet at all for the first two weeks of her life. We were just allowed to stand over her bed and talk to her through the glass. She was the sickest at first. I remember being struck by the fact that they were so weak that their cries were barely audible. They were like whisper cries. Imagine standing there, watching your baby cry...and not being able to hold them, or touch them. Just standing there...helpless.
The day they discharged me from the hospital was another form of torture. Here I was...going home to empty cribs, empty car seats, empty bouncy seats, swings, and all that comes with it...All of my constant reminders that my babies were fighting for their lives, because MY body wasn't capable of holding them in longer.
All of these scenarios are only skimming the surface of the seven weeks that I experienced children in the NICU. They are powerful and emotional. They are painful...STILL! But yet, on the flip side of the coin with the memories of so much heartache, are the moments when they said, "Her intestines healed!" When they said, "She hasn't de statted anymore, so no more caffeine and heart monitors for her!" When they said, "He weighs five pounds!" When they said, "You get to take them home!" ..... You get to take them home...
My miracles are four years old. They are beautiful and intelligent. They are head strong, and resilient. They are gentle and sensitive. They are caring and giving. They are amazing. They are beyond what I could have ever imagined and so much more than I could have hoped. They are HEALTHY!
I can't even begin to tell you about how blessed I am. I am blessed to have the painful start to their lives. I am blessed to know the sadness of goodbyes, and the appreciativeness of the irritating situations that toddlers put you through. I am thankful for their "challenges". I love every single second of life with them. I am thankful that God has given me such a beautiful, personal, perspective on appreciating my children. That He has allowed me to experience the very real possibility of losing them, and that in so doing, He has shown me that every moment, every second, is a very beautiful gift. Life is so fragile. I am thankful that I learned to appreciate them when they were so little. I think too often, parents forget to do that. At least I know I have been guilty of that.
I am so thankful. I will tell you though, every year my husband and I have a bit of a laugh as we travel down memory lane. We always say, "They haven't killed us yet...but tomorrow, we are certain, they will continue trying." haha.
Okay, in all seriousness though, I really can't wait to see how they will change throughout this next year. I am so blessed that I get to be a part of it.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The van from heaven. Part 1
We have a rental car. My beautiful mama shaggin' wagon has a oil leak so she's been visiting the car doctor. Since I have eight million chicken nuggets who can't sit at home all by themselves (no matter how hard I hope, I am fairly certain the police would not consider our dog...who is 26 in dog years, to be old enough to babysit...lol), I had to rent a van.
Let me just start off this story by announcing to you that Enterprise is the devil's offspring. Seriously. I am NOT joking around.
I called to make a reservation with Enterprise. I have always enjoyed their catchy phrase "Pick Enterprise! We'll pick you up!" I picked Enterprise and all they succeeded in doing was making this self controlled lady so angry that she seriously had visions of leaping over their "separation counter" to scratch the eye balls out of the blonde chick on the other side (this lady was the manager). Okay, back to my story. I made a reservation with Enterprise. After talking with the man for several minutes on the phone, I specifically stated: "My family is a cash only family, do I have to use a credit card if I have a local driver's license?" The man said, "No, not at all. We will require an extra hold on funds, but that is it." I said, "Great!" finished booking the reservation and then went on my merry way.
After driving around my current city for what was approximately an hour (trying to find this "easily accessible" Enterprise rental car location), I finally located the place. I walked in (mind you, it's freezing cold outside, I don't want to just have my car idling so it's off, my husband is in the car with our eight million chicken nuggets...his patience level is already on the fritz, and they're waiting in the car while I go in...). The woman takes my reservation number and proceeds to ask for my payment. I give her my "goods" with my license. She says, "I can't rent you this van without a credit card." I said, "I specifically asked that when I made the reservation and was told that I could." She said, "I don't know who told you that." I said, "Enterprise did!" Manager came over. Let me describe to you this woman. She walks over with a smirk on her face. She heads in my direction with the attitude of a woman in phase ten childbirth. I don't like to call people names, but she was certainly not in a helpful or friendly attitude. I told her the situation and she snaps at me that "we don't rent cars to people without a credit card, and ESPECIALLY not a van!" This dialogue between she and I continued for almost an hour. The result of which was ME calling Enterprise from my personal phone (they refused to do that...explain THAT one to me). I sat on hold for forty five minutes while a manager there asked the manager at my location to override their policy and book me the car. She gave the phone lady an attitude also and refused. By this point I was so enraged that I politely asked her name (it was Stephanie) and walked away. If I had stayed any longer I swear that Jesus wouldn't have been too happy with me.
As I was walking out, I noticed a Budget rental car location. For some reason, the heavenly stars aligned, and I thought I would walk over to them and at least ask if they would rent me a car. I think the lady at the counter could tell that I wasn't exactly having the best morning. I said, "Do you rent cars to people without credit cards?" She so sweetly said, "We sure do! What do you need?" I said, "I need a van." She said, "We've got one!" I literally could've jumped across the counter and non lesbianly given this woman a kiss. I was SO relieved. She was SO nice. She was amazingly helpful and she rented me a van.
All of this back story to tell you that I have fallen in love. I am in love with my rental van. She is a beauty. I seriously don't want to give her back. I will probably end up in tears at the rental car location simply because I want to keep her forever. Yes, I know I can not afford to keep her forever, but I want to!
I know. I'm crazy. But people just showed up at my house so I can't finish this post now. I will try to complete it later. :)
Let me just start off this story by announcing to you that Enterprise is the devil's offspring. Seriously. I am NOT joking around.
I called to make a reservation with Enterprise. I have always enjoyed their catchy phrase "Pick Enterprise! We'll pick you up!" I picked Enterprise and all they succeeded in doing was making this self controlled lady so angry that she seriously had visions of leaping over their "separation counter" to scratch the eye balls out of the blonde chick on the other side (this lady was the manager). Okay, back to my story. I made a reservation with Enterprise. After talking with the man for several minutes on the phone, I specifically stated: "My family is a cash only family, do I have to use a credit card if I have a local driver's license?" The man said, "No, not at all. We will require an extra hold on funds, but that is it." I said, "Great!" finished booking the reservation and then went on my merry way.
After driving around my current city for what was approximately an hour (trying to find this "easily accessible" Enterprise rental car location), I finally located the place. I walked in (mind you, it's freezing cold outside, I don't want to just have my car idling so it's off, my husband is in the car with our eight million chicken nuggets...his patience level is already on the fritz, and they're waiting in the car while I go in...). The woman takes my reservation number and proceeds to ask for my payment. I give her my "goods" with my license. She says, "I can't rent you this van without a credit card." I said, "I specifically asked that when I made the reservation and was told that I could." She said, "I don't know who told you that." I said, "Enterprise did!" Manager came over. Let me describe to you this woman. She walks over with a smirk on her face. She heads in my direction with the attitude of a woman in phase ten childbirth. I don't like to call people names, but she was certainly not in a helpful or friendly attitude. I told her the situation and she snaps at me that "we don't rent cars to people without a credit card, and ESPECIALLY not a van!" This dialogue between she and I continued for almost an hour. The result of which was ME calling Enterprise from my personal phone (they refused to do that...explain THAT one to me). I sat on hold for forty five minutes while a manager there asked the manager at my location to override their policy and book me the car. She gave the phone lady an attitude also and refused. By this point I was so enraged that I politely asked her name (it was Stephanie) and walked away. If I had stayed any longer I swear that Jesus wouldn't have been too happy with me.
As I was walking out, I noticed a Budget rental car location. For some reason, the heavenly stars aligned, and I thought I would walk over to them and at least ask if they would rent me a car. I think the lady at the counter could tell that I wasn't exactly having the best morning. I said, "Do you rent cars to people without credit cards?" She so sweetly said, "We sure do! What do you need?" I said, "I need a van." She said, "We've got one!" I literally could've jumped across the counter and non lesbianly given this woman a kiss. I was SO relieved. She was SO nice. She was amazingly helpful and she rented me a van.
All of this back story to tell you that I have fallen in love. I am in love with my rental van. She is a beauty. I seriously don't want to give her back. I will probably end up in tears at the rental car location simply because I want to keep her forever. Yes, I know I can not afford to keep her forever, but I want to!
I know. I'm crazy. But people just showed up at my house so I can't finish this post now. I will try to complete it later. :)
Monday, February 7, 2011
The booster....and no, not the vaccine kind.
Yesterday was a very momentous day for me as a mama. My triplets have officially moved on to bigger and better things: the booster seat. I knew this day was approaching when the top slot in the five point harness started being at the shoulder line. I hoped to extend the inevitable date, but my husband announced to me yesterday that it was indeed time to move on from the carseat.
It's amazing how quickly time flies. It seems almost yesterday that we were stressing and agonizing over whether or not our sweet triplets could stay breathing, stay safely secured, and stay installed in those infant carriers. Our nurses and doctor's were talking to us about the possibility of having to purchase horizontal carseats in order to send our babies home from the NICU. Those conversations, those moments seem like they were merely minutes ago. Now here, before me, are three almost four year olds. They truly have moved on from being a picture on a sonogram, into talking, deciding, singing, dancing, playing, living beautiful children.
I am blessed. I am also a bit emotional over this moment. Allow me to sit and remember...we really have come so far! :)
It's amazing how quickly time flies. It seems almost yesterday that we were stressing and agonizing over whether or not our sweet triplets could stay breathing, stay safely secured, and stay installed in those infant carriers. Our nurses and doctor's were talking to us about the possibility of having to purchase horizontal carseats in order to send our babies home from the NICU. Those conversations, those moments seem like they were merely minutes ago. Now here, before me, are three almost four year olds. They truly have moved on from being a picture on a sonogram, into talking, deciding, singing, dancing, playing, living beautiful children.
I am blessed. I am also a bit emotional over this moment. Allow me to sit and remember...we really have come so far! :)
Friday, February 4, 2011
the omenization of my current moments
I am not one that typically believes in omens. I often think they're just psychological manifestations of something that one fears. They are essentially projecting into life something that a person is seriously afraid of occurring. And of course, you know, that whenever someone starts something out with "I am not one that typically..." you know the however or the "but" is coming in here somewhere. I don't know if I should include it here. I don't know if I should say out loud the omens that keep pouring through me, and my husband, pretty consistently. It's almost like if I say it out loud, then that means I really believe it is possible. And to believe it is possible is too excruciatingly painful to even contemplate.
In a strange way, I appreciate the omens. It's not that I am a glutton for misery. I honestly hate it, even though my name actually implies a life of misery (GO MOM! lol). But the omens have opened me up for to converse about them. I feel like, when I pray, I have something true and genuine to say. It's not just some conversation to have in order just to have it. I also feel like my moments are so much more beautiful. I feel like I am driven to make something lasting. I am driven to create moments that are tattooed on my soul. I am in need of experiences I won't forget.
I feel like lately I have been crying so much. It is so weird because I honestly have such a positive outlook on life. I am not an angry, feel sorry for myself, oh woe is me kind of gal. I used to be. Seriously. You have NO idea. I used to be filled with anxiety like you wouldn't imagine. I used to live my moments seeking constant validation, praise and approval from everyone all around me. I was constantly worried, constantly failing, constantly desperate. You see, approval is like a drug. When you live your life for it...it inevitably sucks you dry. It eats you from the inside out and leaves you crying in the darkness so that simple words like, "Maybe we should just be friends" are enough to destroy you. I spent years as a hollow sand pillar. I looked sturdy from a distance, but the closer you got, the clearer it was that I was just one windstorm away from falling apart. And it's funny because as I write that, I know that my husband (when he reads this) will say that it's just the opposite. He will say that I spent years believing I was the sand pillar when in reality I was a lead pipe. Stubborn, but bendable if you gave it enough heat and force, and always resilient...never breaking despite what the weather threw at it. Maybe the reality is that I am somewhere in between. I wear my reality on my sleeve. I am not afraid to be broken. I am not afraid to be whole. I am not afraid to be somewhere in between.
And somehow I got off track. I was talking about omens and all of a sudden I have launched into some psychoanalysis of myself. Oy vey. I am so easily distracted. Ha! My English teachers used to tell me that all the time. I'm just a rebel at heart. :) Hehehe.
I am working on processing so much. I am trying to decipher what it is that I fear and what it is that I really believe will happen. I am desperately afraid of crumbling. Or maybe I'm afraid of needing/wanting to crumble and being unable to for my children's sake. I am afraid of being alone. It's not that I can't function. I can. I have been alone for many many days. I know how to get done what needs to be done. I know how to complete tasks and functions. But you see...he is my sounding board. He is where I go to hear that I'm being ridiculous. He is who encourages me to apologize when I don't want to. He is who reminds me that I come across as overbearing and crazy and laughingly gets me to point it out and work on changing it. He is the physical manifestation of a million heavenly lessons. He is through whom God has brought me joy, comfort, laughter, and challenges beyond what I can describe. He has been the greatest lesson I have ever had. Can I be alone? Of course. But I just think about what all would be missing. The sheer agony of my daughters missing out on the most greatest human being I have ever known....My son not having this amazing role model to teach him what it is to be a man and a husband.
So many people have told me that they learned unconditional love when they had children. I suppose I am a blessed individual because I learned that before they were born. I learned it when my husband gave it to me. He loved me when I was angry, broken and unreachable. He loved me when I chose to love someone else. He loved me when I pushed him away. He loved me when I was hateful, controlling, untrusting, aggravating, a basket case, angry,etc etc. He loved me unconditionally. So I learned what it looked like. And by the grace of God, I have been able to give it back to him. When he was crazy, I learned what it was to love someone else unconditionally. I learned what it felt like to love someone who was incapable of loving you back. Someone who, at the time, actually hates you. And it was beautiful. It was a beautiful experience. Emotionally agonizing, but beautiful nonetheless.
So all of these unnecessary words simply to ask these questions: Do you believe in omens? How do you handle the negative ones? And would you want to know if something terrible was ahead of you? Would you change anything if you knew for certain before hand?
In a strange way, I appreciate the omens. It's not that I am a glutton for misery. I honestly hate it, even though my name actually implies a life of misery (GO MOM! lol). But the omens have opened me up for to converse about them. I feel like, when I pray, I have something true and genuine to say. It's not just some conversation to have in order just to have it. I also feel like my moments are so much more beautiful. I feel like I am driven to make something lasting. I am driven to create moments that are tattooed on my soul. I am in need of experiences I won't forget.
I feel like lately I have been crying so much. It is so weird because I honestly have such a positive outlook on life. I am not an angry, feel sorry for myself, oh woe is me kind of gal. I used to be. Seriously. You have NO idea. I used to be filled with anxiety like you wouldn't imagine. I used to live my moments seeking constant validation, praise and approval from everyone all around me. I was constantly worried, constantly failing, constantly desperate. You see, approval is like a drug. When you live your life for it...it inevitably sucks you dry. It eats you from the inside out and leaves you crying in the darkness so that simple words like, "Maybe we should just be friends" are enough to destroy you. I spent years as a hollow sand pillar. I looked sturdy from a distance, but the closer you got, the clearer it was that I was just one windstorm away from falling apart. And it's funny because as I write that, I know that my husband (when he reads this) will say that it's just the opposite. He will say that I spent years believing I was the sand pillar when in reality I was a lead pipe. Stubborn, but bendable if you gave it enough heat and force, and always resilient...never breaking despite what the weather threw at it. Maybe the reality is that I am somewhere in between. I wear my reality on my sleeve. I am not afraid to be broken. I am not afraid to be whole. I am not afraid to be somewhere in between.
And somehow I got off track. I was talking about omens and all of a sudden I have launched into some psychoanalysis of myself. Oy vey. I am so easily distracted. Ha! My English teachers used to tell me that all the time. I'm just a rebel at heart. :) Hehehe.
I am working on processing so much. I am trying to decipher what it is that I fear and what it is that I really believe will happen. I am desperately afraid of crumbling. Or maybe I'm afraid of needing/wanting to crumble and being unable to for my children's sake. I am afraid of being alone. It's not that I can't function. I can. I have been alone for many many days. I know how to get done what needs to be done. I know how to complete tasks and functions. But you see...he is my sounding board. He is where I go to hear that I'm being ridiculous. He is who encourages me to apologize when I don't want to. He is who reminds me that I come across as overbearing and crazy and laughingly gets me to point it out and work on changing it. He is the physical manifestation of a million heavenly lessons. He is through whom God has brought me joy, comfort, laughter, and challenges beyond what I can describe. He has been the greatest lesson I have ever had. Can I be alone? Of course. But I just think about what all would be missing. The sheer agony of my daughters missing out on the most greatest human being I have ever known....My son not having this amazing role model to teach him what it is to be a man and a husband.
So many people have told me that they learned unconditional love when they had children. I suppose I am a blessed individual because I learned that before they were born. I learned it when my husband gave it to me. He loved me when I was angry, broken and unreachable. He loved me when I chose to love someone else. He loved me when I pushed him away. He loved me when I was hateful, controlling, untrusting, aggravating, a basket case, angry,etc etc. He loved me unconditionally. So I learned what it looked like. And by the grace of God, I have been able to give it back to him. When he was crazy, I learned what it was to love someone else unconditionally. I learned what it felt like to love someone who was incapable of loving you back. Someone who, at the time, actually hates you. And it was beautiful. It was a beautiful experience. Emotionally agonizing, but beautiful nonetheless.
So all of these unnecessary words simply to ask these questions: Do you believe in omens? How do you handle the negative ones? And would you want to know if something terrible was ahead of you? Would you change anything if you knew for certain before hand?
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