A birthday to remember......

We did a combo birthday party for Elyse's 3rd and Adley's 1st.  They are 26 months apart so it was technically late for Elyse and early for Adley but logistically speaking it worked.  It's amazing that the first year with Adley is almost over.....the milestone year.  The year that lingers with runny noses and sleepless nights, rolling over and pulling up.  The year with all of the changes.  The minute you get a groove going the baby has morphed and progressed.  It's gone.  I blinked a little too long, a little too often.  Fortunately she won't actually be one for over another month so I have some more time to soak in her first year.

I borrowed almost all of the decorations.  A friend traded cake pops for a photo session and another close friend made their cake for them.  I was very sick in the days leading  up to the party.  I'm amazed it came together the way it did.  We had a little over 50 people at our house but the weather cooperated and despite a bloody lip and split forehead from fun on the trampoline, the party was a success.  We won't be doing one of this size for awhile though.

I was so busy that day, I wasn't able to capture nearly as many moments or pictures as I would have liked but I'll post the bulk of them below.

Happy birthday, girls!

 A pink tutu swim suit is a must for the birthday girl.  It also MUST be twirled in.

 And you little sister and co-birthday girl MUST have one as well.

 Watching them grow....memories and milestones.  This wall was a crowd favorite.  It was so amazing to look at how much they have both changed.  How much they've enriched our lives and each others.

 Cutest cake ever!

 Her expression is so easy to read....."my, my, what do we have here?"

 Are you really just setting it down here like this for me?

 I mean really?

 Well okay!!!!!

 I'll just lift up the entire cake and eat it in one big bite!

 Hands off please.  You had yours already.

 

Feeling better

I am so thankful to report that I'm feeling MUCH better!  I saw the GI specialist on Wednesday and I started some hefty antibiotics on Thursday.  Within 24 hours I was not normal, but I had strength, I played with my kids, I got housework done, and I was smiling!  Huge difference for me.

I'm to avoid dairy and for multiple reasons I had to stop nursing.  That was the hardest part for me.  I'm usually pretty anti-antibiotics, haven't taken them in years.  In fact, I hadn't even filled a prescription period in over 4 years.  But this time, in this instance, I really needed it and this medication was in no way safe for Adley.  The nursing also added to the dehydration and when the GI doctor saw me Wednesday he had the same assessment as the doctor last week, I was keeping myself out of the hospital by the skin of my teeth.

I'm amazed how quickly I feel better and so, so very thankful.  This entire experience over the past 2 weeks has made me truly appreciate health, what it really means to face my day physically and mentally in optimal well-being.  I also don't think I fully realized all I really did until I couldn't do it anymore.  I learned once again how true the saying, "Life is 10% what happens to  you and 90% how you respond" is.  I've always loved that.  It has always grounded me.  I did not respond to this trial well BUT I did learn from it.

In this instance, I struggled with seeing no end in sight, there was no glimmer of health on the horizon with my mystery diagnosis and I allowed my mind to go places it shouldn't.  Big mistake.  I had great difficulty asking for help but by the second week I had no problem complaining.  I dislike complaining.  A lot.  By Wednesday and Thursday of this week I think I was really starting to dislike myself.  I was disappointed with how I was handling all of this but so frustrated and a little scared of how sick I really was.  To get her out of the house for a bit, I mustered up the strength and took Elyse to a playgroup with close friends on Thursday.  They took one look at me and were concerned and within seconds I was in tears.  That's not like me.  Then again, I almost had someone drive my car home because I wasn't sure I was able to safely drive it myself.  This whole thing was just hard.  I have to learn how to handle "hard" better.

I blabbing.  I'm processing.  I want to endure things like this better next time.

What a gift it was to see the nurturing side of Elyse bloom for me.  Her genuine concern, her sweet, subtle touches.  Her doctor kit out several times a day in determination.  Her 3 year old understanding and obedience when she was instructed by daddy to let mommy rest.  The love labor of my husband who pulled double duty in the evenings.  The multiple offers of help from many friends.  A neighbor dropping off Gatorade.  The flowers from my mom.  There was so much love in this illness and in the clarity of feeling better I can fully push aside the fog and feel it's warmth.  

It's July in Florida, but this heat feels so, so good.

I'm sick

I'm sick.  Those are difficult words for me to type.  I seldom succumb to the admission that an illness has ailed me to the point of admitting it, giving it a grasp on me mentally and physically.  I. Am. Sick.

It started a week ago Friday with nausea.  It spiraled out of control pretty quickly in the following days and today marks day 12.  I haven't been well since.  I wrote it off as a stomach bug at first, resting and allowing it to run its coarse through my system.  The worst days were 2 and 5 and by the middle of day 5 I was seeing spots from, extremely week, and curled in the fetal position in my bed all day.  I was down about 7 pounds in those 5 days.  I couldn't eat a meal and it didn't matter if I could, it wouldn't stay.  We decided I should go to Fast Track, an urgent care walk in clinic.  The doctor was immediately concerned about my dehydration and after some lab work, advised me to go to the hospital for IV fluids.

We spoke with a close friend who is an ER doctor and after relaying my results he suggested staying home and really, really pushing fluids myself.  We chose option B.  I laid in bed that night, hands places protectively on my abdomen, and for the first time I felt a little scared.  This had to end.  It had to stop, I remember thinking I will die if this keeps going on like this, my body cannot handle this much longer.  The next day I felt much better, not normal, but better.  The worst was behind me, surely.

Basically I haven't been right since and now there are some concerning results in culture tests I had done in the walk in clinic and I'm to see a GI specialist this week.

Yesterday, day 11, this started to get emotional for me.  I'm weak.  I'm tired, no........more than that, I'm exhausted.  The constant mild dehydration and lack of nutrition is literally draining the life out of me.  This has also started to greatly affect my milk supply for Adley so we're quickly draining the freezer reserves of milk which is also emotional for me.  I don't have the energy to play with my kids.  I get the bare minimum done just because I have to, but loading them in the car, going to the park or grocery store, the energy exertion needed to do that intimidates me so we stay here.  I went to bed at 8:45 last night and still feel tired today.

I have to get better.  I want to play with my kids.  I want to do the million things a mom needs to do each day to run her ship.  I want to enjoy a meal.  I want to be well.  I get teary thinking about how much this has slowed me down, especially the last few days.

Hopefully I'll get some answers this week.  Right now I'm just going to try to get my head in the right place and use what precious energy I have on the right things, the things that matter.

Okay.  I'll stop whining now.  Thanks for listening.

Photo sessions

I'll post a few personal favorites from the last few photo sessions I've done.  Since this has become more of a "fun" money type thing, I managed to make enough to purchase two new outdoor fans for our patio.

My favorite of all.....they got me two of these.

Instruction Manual

Adley was down for a nap, Elyse was at her preschool camp so I decided that really quickly I would set the buttons on the new truck to be able to open our garage door without the remote.  I flipped to the page, read the instructions and went for it.  Sounded easy enough.  I tried over and over to set the thing.  Back and forth, up and down the later from the garage door opener to the truck and back again.  I checked the manual and even had one of my good neighbor friends come over to help.  Still nothing.  I managed to erase all the codes to all of our openers but never got it working.  Eventually I Googled it only to find the same instructions.  I was sweating but obsessed with getting it programmed.

I decided to start back at square one and read the manual over.  I quickly discovered I was reading the wrong instructions.  The ones I was reading were for an entirely different set up and model.  Once I corrected the problem and read the right instuctions it took less than 2 minutes to complete.  I wanted to do a cartwheel once I was done.  I was so excited to see the garage door go up and down at the command of that small black button just because I told it to.  As excited as I was, there was no way to ignore what had gotten me there.  

I was reading the wrong instructions.  No matter how hard I tried, no matter how perfectly I followed the steps verbatim, it was NEVER going to work.

Later that evening as I replayed the story for Matt, I realized how much life is like that.  How much parenting is like that.  How easily I can pick up a pamphlet of the things this world wants me to impress on my children.  The kind of things it wants me to allow in my home.  The kind of ways it wants me to love and discipline them.  The constantly changing manual that currently wants me to challenge my husband and let my kids run the show.

I can't afford to read the wrong instructions.  What should have taken 2 minutes took me over 2 hours because I was on the wrong page.  I can't risk that with my marriage or my children.

The beauty of my story was that I found the correct instructions that fit perfectly with my need and my goal.  They made sense and they worked and I rejoiced.

The beauty of this life is that I have the right manual with the perfect instructions.  It doesn't matter if I got off track or lost in another book.  It's still the same.  Forever.  It's truths tried and true, it's methods unfailing, it's love unending, it's perfection astounding.  When I do it, it works.  

Our pastor often says, "If you live life within the margins of scripture life will go well for you, if you don't, life will not go well for you."  That is so, so true.

I struggle with reading my bible like I should.  I struggle with feeling guilty about the times I know I do wrong, make bad choices, say harsh things.  I REALLY struggle with having confidence as a Godly parent.  When I look at the Bible as standards I'll never live up to, I'm doomed from the start........but that isn't in the book.  He knew none of us would be able to do it which is why He sent us Jesus.  That's a statement I've heard so many times, yet I lose sight of so often.  I do too much of this and too little of that.....describes me pretty well.  It's hard for me.  A lot.  It just seems to good to be true, salvation, grace, forgiveness, eternal life.  It isn't too good to be true but I get overwhelmed with so many emotions at the mere thought of it all.    

"It's too good to be true, but too good to pass up".....another thing our pastor says a lot.    

I have the right book.  I need to always start there.

My to-do list this nap session is long.  I need to paint the new drywall in Elyse's room where the leak was repaired, clean my floors since the workers doing the drywall weren't as tidy as I'd like, clean the kitchen, prep dinner, do my Insanity video (did I mention I switched to that from P90X?), plan details for the girls' birthday party coming up soon, tidy up around the house, and I'm sure there's some laundry somewhere that belongs in the washing machine.


The list is intimidating and exhausting to look at.  In lieu of starting the list and checking things off, I'll procrastinate a little longer by blogging about nothing.

It's hard to blog about nothing when all this mess is staring me in the face.

Oh yeah, we got a new truck.  I like it.  It's big, it's a gas hog, it will take some getting used to because it has more buttons and bells than I know what to do with.  I park far away in parking lots.  One might think I do that out of caution to protect the truck but I really do it out of insecurity to safely pull into a parking space with other cars around.  On the drive home from a friends house this afternoon I started hearing this chiming sound and I immediately felt panic.  Turns out the gas was getting low and it was letting me know I had 23 miles left before I was out of gas, but the chimes for each little thing make me nervous.  EVERYTHING is automatic and digital.  The steering wheel has as many buttons as the dash and I'm pretty sure one of them turns the entire thing into a jet.  It makes me feel fancy and I'm very thankful for it, but it's size and complexity are intimidating.

I appreciate simple.  My backside hasn't left the perfect impression in the leather yet so it doesn't quite feel like I belong in the drivers seat.  The radio is set on satellite and I'm sure I could find my way back to my favorite hometown FM station if I tried, but I'm trying to enjoy the vast choices I'm now offered.

I guess it's just change.  I had my last car since I graduated RN school and that was over 8 years ago.  With 175K miles on her, she was broken in nicely and was an extremely good mode of transportation for us.  She had an "old" car smell but it was familiar.  She had ample space, not much extra and not even enough to pack for family vacation, but for the day to day stuff, she was perfect.  Large enough to meet our needs but still wasn't a gas hog.  Nothing chimed at me but plenty of things didn't work.

This truck isn't what Matt or I would normally pick for many reasons, but in the end, for us, it all comes down to dollars and sense.  A family member was going to trade it in toward a new car, we chimed in, botta boom botta bing a deal was made and now she sits in our garage.

It's size and color make me want to name her something feminine and dainty like Daphne Denali.  Matt thinks the opposite and thinks it needs a big, strong, manly name like Brutus.

Her name is Daphne.

Enough blogging about nothing, I need to get my chores going.