The Genius of Dr. Seuss

The girls and I were at the library this week and let me tell you, the kid's section has been gutted.  I guess every mom is a liiiiittle short on activities now that summer is winding down because our regional library has gone from thousands upon thousands of children's books to about twelve.  One book that was there was "Oh the Places You'll Go.''  Cate has never read it, and I grabbed it thinking it would be appropriate given that she starts Kindergarten in less than a month. <--- WHAT????!?

Everyone can agree that Dr. Seuss is amazing but, reading that book to the girls today, I was struck at how applicable "Oh the Places You'll Go" can be to anyone.  From the book:

"You can get all hung up in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.  You'll be left in a lurch.
You'll come down from the Lurch with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then, that you'll be in a Slump.
And when you're in a Slump, you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself is not easily done.
...
You can get so confused that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across wierdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...for people just waiting.
...
NO!  That's not for you!
Somehow you'll escape all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places where Boom Bands are playing.
With banner flip-flapping, once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky,
Ready because you're that kind of guy!"

Maybe I'm just looking for optimism, inspiration, and hope wherever I can find it, but I was reading that book with the widest grin on my face.  Thank you, Dr Seuss.

Five

Five years ago I was blissfully tired and enjoying my newborn baby Cate.  Fast forward to today and I can't believe what she's become.  The way she looks, talks, behaves, laughs, asks questions, and talks some more is no surprise because I've watched the progression.  But if you'd shown me her five-year-old self all those years ago, I would have been in complete shock.  And I would have been so proud.

Here is her five-year-old questionnaire:

Favorite Color :: Pink and yellow
Favorite Toy :: My Little Pony Wedding Castle
Favorite Fruit :: Watermelon
Favorite TV Show :: My Little Pony
Favorite Movie :: Tangled
Favorite Thing to Wear :: Pink Disney princess dress
Favorite Animal :: Cat
Favorite Song :: I Want to be Like Jesus (from Vacation Bible School)
Favorite Book :: Ocean
Best Friend :: Vivian and Taffe
Favorite Snack :: Peanuts
Favorite Drink :: Milk
Favorite Breakfast :: Pancakes
Favorite Lunch :: Chips, carrots, peppers, and apples
Favorite Dinner :: Noodles
Favorite Game :: UNO
Favorite Thing to do Outside :: Ride my bike and Razor scooter
Favorite Holiday :: Christmas
What Do You Sleep With At Night :: Yellow Blanket
What Do You Want To Be When You Grow Up :: A mommy

The Sting That Won't Go Away

I just returned today from the hospital where I finally had to give in and have surgery to end the latest miscarriage.  It nearly killed me to have to relent, but after three months, where for so long I thought if I could just hold out a few more days and it would be over, it was time to put it all to bed.  Oh, it was time.

It felt like a familiar routine; a bizarre Groundhog Day--checking in at the intake desk, waiting in that little room with the TV that seems to exclusively show odd commercials and the weather report, going back to the prep area, seeing the same nurses who also now think I look familiar, being wheeled back to the OR where I slowly black out, coming to and, finally, after fasting for most of the day, eating Snackwells vanilla sandwich cookies.  I have a love/hate relationship with those treats now--they make me feel so much better, but I hate that I'm there, in the hospital recovery area, eating them again.

My hope is to finally get over it all--mentally and physically--but I'm worried that is still a long time coming.  Pregnancy and babies surround me.  Even people I know very well, who are at least somewhat clued into what I've got going on, make comments that sting...badly.  Stories about pregnancy and comments about babies flow easily and I wonder, does anyone pause and think for just a second?

To be fair, I am waaaaaay over sensitive right now and no one is inside my head.  It's unrealistic for all pregnancy images and conversation to be withheld.  It's not that I'm not happy for anyone who is pregnant--I AM--I just want to treat it carefully, and have people discuss it in the same way they'd talk about religion and politics with a stranger--treading lightly.  If I was pregnant surely I'd want to spread the joy that is expecting a baby--talking about it, posting on Instagram, etc.  So there is no blame that I want to dish out.  No one has done anything wrong.  Selfishly, it's just...hurtful and sad.  Sadness has crept into my bones.

One day I will get over the whole thing, and I am appreciative to have the perspective this has all given me.  Right now it's raw though and some of the stings run deep.

For Your Protection

Another of my "due dates" has come and gone, and I find myself having made absolutely no progress in the past couple of months.  Two doctors have zeroed in on one potential problem, a blood clotting issue which is a result of a genetic disease that I carry, but there is nothing conclusive and I'm in a holding pattern before I can take more tests.

I know all that sounds so boring, and, believe me, I wish I could just step away from the whole issue for awhile.  It seems I'm constantly recounting the past or aching for the future.

Randomly checking Facebook today, however, I saw a post by "Turtle Power for James Edwards."  This is a page that's been started by the friends and family of not quite two-year-old James who very nearly drowned in his family's swimming pool a couple of weeks ago.  His parents were at the hospital with James' brand new baby brother and James was under the care of a family member at the time of the incident.

James is ok but he's had a ton of problems and he is a long way from fully recovering.  The doctors have confirmed some brain damage, and they just aren't sure how things will end up.  Talk about a heart-wrenching situation.

Today James' mom, Jenna, posted about a gift she received from his aunt, a kid's devotional titled "Jesus Calling for Kids" by Sarah Young.  Jenna posted about the devotional's page for today, June 27, entitled "For Your Protection."  It really struck me.

For Your Protection

"Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul."

Psalm 143:8

Some days are long and tough.  So stop and rest with Me for awhile.  Don't worry about what's ahead.  Don't think about the past or future.  Just focus on right here and right now--with Me.

I created time to protect you.  Because I am timeless, I can see your entire life from beginning to end--all at the same time.  But I knew that you couldn't bear to see your whole life all at once.  So I created time to hide your future from you, to protect you.

You can do nothing about the past, so just let it go.  You cannot know the future so just put it aside.  Meet me here and now--in this moment of time.  Trust that I am with you watching over you wherever you go.

So I think I'm going to stay in the here and now from now on.  Here's what mine looks likes when I open up my eyes and enjoy:

Hope Springs Eternal

One of my favorite quotes is "Hope springs eternal."  Isn't it true?  Ask any sports fan after their team has lost, anyone who has ever been dealt a blow.  There is always hope for tomorrow.

Today I received a ray of hope by way of a friend of a very good friend of mine.  This friend of a friend has been in my shoes and had some very good counsel to pass along.

I have no idea what the future holds, and this could really be it for babies.  But maybe not--I've got an appointment with a top DC doctor and perhaps they will be able to make sense of all the miscarriages.  This isn't something I'm going to pursue for years.  Rather, I want to see if a specialist can find a problem.  I want to do my research and give it another go if that makes sense.  We'll see what happens and I'll chronicle new developments on my blog.

In the meantime, I've started exercising again, I'm going to serve as Chair on the preschool parents committee, and I want to start hitting up yardsales/Craig's list for furniture and decor finds.  This process has also changed my heart for the better.  I've lost a lot of my severe anxiety and have relaxed a great deal recently.  Compassion, understanding, and empathy--characteristics I never exactly exuded--have settled into my bones.  Most importantly, I'm enjoying my children more than I ever thought possible.

I Will Wait

It happened again.  Enough time had passed and I really thought I was in the clear, but it wasn't to be.

There's been some confusion and lots of sadness.  A good amount of testing beckons at the door.  No anger though, just tears.

My new anthem is this.

I will wait.

Shared Space

On a complete whim, Rhett and I decided to move Charlotte out of her room and into Cate's room yesterday.  This meant ditching the crib and setting up a "big girl" bed for Charlotte.  This will be great, we said.  So easy! we said.  Charlotte takes change like a champ, we said.  Ha.

We'd originally planted the seed of moving Charlotte last year, when we thought we'd have a baby this spring or summer--a baby that would force Charlotte out of the crib whether she liked it or not.  Rhett and I eventually dropped the subject but Cate did not--she really, really wanted Charlotte in her room.  Charlotte, who is content to go along with most things Cate dictates, echoed the desire.

We got our old guest room mattress out of the storage in our garage and whisked Charlotte off to Target to pick out new sheets and a comforter.  In a very strange turn of events she picked a purple chevron design for her sheets and an all-purple quilt (ed. note: not actually strange at all--Rhett called her picks before she even made them).  Rhett rejiggered all the furniture, I moved clothes and prrrrrrresto!  We had a new, shared room complete with two beds, a play table, and a book nook.

So much purple!

Our book nook

 Charlotte was totally thrilled.  Until, that is, bedtime rolled around.  I put them to bed early because neither girl wanted to nap that day and it took me an hour and twenty minutes to get them to sleep.  This included:

• Five requests for tissues
• Two requests for water
• Thirty minutes of Charlotte straight up jumping on her bed and laughing
• Another thirty minutes of Charlotte running into my room
• Lots of giggling (not me)
• Lots of seething (me)
• Some rapid fire googling by Mama 
• Twenty minutes of trying to be like "Super Nanny"

It was all fun and games at bedtime…until I said "goodnight" for the first of 200 times

Charlotte finally gave up at 8:20pm.  I was spent by the end and I am sure it will happen again tonight.  But it's like all transitions, right?  Don't we all think "It will always be terrible!" and then, a week later, we say "that wasn't so bad."  Right now though, I really feel like taking a nap!  Guess who doesn't feel that way though…her name starts with a "C" and ends with a "harlotte."  Ahhhhhh...