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wife. mom. adjunct professor. we homeschool. i'm a little bit OCD. i love math. bright colors and geometric designs make me drool. we live with a medical rarity, and Jesus saved his life. through that, Jesus is changing us. The american dream and status quo is overrated...and sometimes just plain wrong. our lives, our family, our careers, our faith are all now filtered through a new lens-- thank you Jesus. welcome to our crazy. feel free to take some of it with you, we have plenty to go around.
It's not the load that breaks you down; it's the way you carry it.
-- Lena Horne


The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.-- Jesus Christ

Sunday, September 25, 2011

i needed a map!

So here I sit...taking a break from the sewing machine and other busy-things that are getting the stink eye from me today.  You can only stare at something for so long before you just need to get away from it....something so inanimate shouldn't annoy me, but I've spent too much time with that stupid machine lately, and she is starting to wear on my nerves. So she gets a break. And I get some iced coffee.

My kitchen bar is covered in coupons...and a Homeland ad.  I fought hard for that ad....get this-- I subscribe to the paper here...on Sundays and Wednesdays. Before we were paying subscribers, we freely received a little bundle each Tuesday with some classifieds, TV show scheduling, and the weekly grocery ads.  This was convenient, because it was free.  It was convenient because the sales for our store start on Wednesday...so getting the ad on Tuesday meant I could decide what I wanted to buy the day before I went to the store (yes, there are blogs like this wonderful one that match all of that stuff up for you...but I'm too type A or something and have to always check the ads myself as well).  But getting the paper twice a week means I don't have to get up or have my husband get up super early Sunday AM to go purchase a paper so I can clip the coupons.  The nice delivery people just make sure there is a newspaper in our yard on Sundays and Wednesdays.  But once I started paying for said papers, the free packet no longer arrived.  Which meant I couldn't see the grocery ads until Wednesday morning, but by the time the paper gets here, I've already been to the grocery store.  That just wasn't going to work for me.  So....I requested the free packet anyway. On the phone, I was told that can't happen.  Via email I received no response.  So just to be safe, I also emailed our grocery store and asked if they would just mail me an ad.  Lo and behold, this past Tuesday, I had the free packet thingamabob in my driveway, just like it used to always be.  I also received a Homeland ad in the snail mail on Saturday (which is super early considering new sales start Wednesday.)  Sometimes, it pays to say something...I mean, really, I could get the packet (which most people just throw away...) for FREE before, no problem, but now that I am PAYING, I had to beg to get one of those?  Really? that makes zero sense to me.  Sigh...I got what I needed, anyway, even if it took a few calls/emails to make it happen.

So.  aside from that...I am bracing myself to get up and clean up that mess on the bar, and plan this week's school activities for the eldest child in this house, and grade some tests from my other teaching gig....

But Friday...last Friday...two days ago....here's what I was doing--

wake up.
get ready.
get children ready.
eat breakfast.
start eldest child on math and writing assignments...read a book or two after that...practice our memory verses...review the four seasons we learned about this week...count to 20 in spanish....
in between all of those things, fold laundry, change poopy diaper, clean up dishes, pack diaper bag, try not to go insane...
load children in car.  begin driving.  to somewhere i used to be able to locate as easily as I can locate my own home.  only this time, it was different.  because i hadn't been there in about 6 months.
drive drive drive, until i could see the downtown part of the city....then think, "oh crap. i don't remember which exit to take."
turn on GPS...quickly look through "recent found places" only to find what I'm looking for isn't stored there.  because I haven't been there 'recently'. 
finally locate on the GPS where I need to go, but by then most of it's coming back to me.  but it took awhile. it was probably something like riding a bike, but not as fun.
take my exit (which is all jacked up because seriously, there is so much construction going on right now....which really inconveniences me when I am driving home from teaching at night....it's late, and i just want to go home, and i can't even get on I40 to get home...sometimes.  i know, not the biggest issue in the world, but I'm allowed to find it a mild inconvenience....because that's what it is. nothing more. nothing freakout worthy. but annoying.)
arrive at parking garage of said destination....and even this feels foreign.  in my brain i'm thinking "dont' forget to stop so they can give you a parking decal thing." then i remember to myself, "oh no, you don't do that here, you just push that button and the ticket prints out."  so I do that.  and i pull to the back of the garage where we 'always park' except that we don't. because we don't go there anymore.  and it isn't until i see there are no spots back there that i realize the garage is all different. even different than it was six months ago when it was already 'different' and being reconstructed.  it's changed again. and i had driven into our area of the garage, going the completely wrong direction.  thankfully, no one was coming the RIGHT direction to hit me head on.
so i back out, find another spot, and head in, both children in tow.
we head towards the elevators. no one stops to say hi and ask how we are doing, bc no one recognizes us.  this isn't normal. except, it is.
we get on the elevator, and i don't even think about the fact i'm not holding ridge, like i 'usually' do when we are here.  he's just standing beside me, holding my hand, while we go up/stop/let someone else on/go up/stop/etc....everytime we stop he gets this weird look on his face, and i think 'how does this seem so weird to him? we've been on an elevator hundreds of times in his life.'  only, he hasn't. not really. he HAS been in one, with ME, hundreds of times.  but he hasn't been in one, WELL, and standing beside me.  and the stop start that gets some of our stomachs turning was getting him.  and scaring him, just enough that i could see it on his face.  and i was thankful.  thankful that he didn't know what that feeling was. thankful that he didn't remember.  thankful that when we finally stepped off the elevator and walked towards the clinic, because by now you have surely figured out we were going to the hospital, he didn't know anyone sitting at the desk, not because they didn't know him (although one of them was new and I'd never met her before, so of course she didn't know us either), but because he didn't remember them.  he and the eldest child found a seat and started watching Cars on the Disney Channel...when our name was called, in typical child fashion, as soon as we got to the room for him to be weighed, he begins crying hysterically, even though the nurse was one very familiar with us.  he didn't know her.  he didn't remember her.  and glory be, that boy cried and cried in fear of the doctor's office. because he doesn't go there all the time. because he isn't comfortable there.  because it isn't NORMAL.  and i let him cry and cry and i smiled the whole time.  Because THAT is okay.  THAT is normal.  I wish he felt comfortable there only because I don't want him to be afraid, not because I want to be regulars there.  So if he freaks out a little because the nurse wants him to lay down so she can measure his length (height and weight both on track, by the way)...then I will praise Jesus for that because THAT is normal.  and we don't HAVE to be normal.  But I am thankful that my feisty, fit throwing toddler showed up that day in the clinic office, not my passive, trusting, thinks living in the hospital is normal, baby.  I love him no mater who he is or where he is, but Friday...we were normal.

....And in fact, sidenote,  I cried in the parking garage, not because I was sad to be there.  I cried because I was so unbelievably grateful that we do NOT have to be there anymore.

When the nurse took us to the patient room to wait on the doctor, Ridge cried some more until she said, "i'm leaving! i'm leaving!" and as soon as she was gone, he was happy.  And as we waited, I wondered if we would have much cooperation out of Ridge once the doctor arrived...we were just there for a checkup (which is pretty much just verbal/checklist stuff), but there is some minor physical contact between dr/patient...and i wasn't sure how the feisty 2 year old would handle it. I mean, granted, this is the doctor who has seen Ridge through it all, counseled us with sound advice and listened willingly to our suggestions/thoughts/worries/ideas....the doctor that I believe God placed in the right place at just the right time.  But even though I know this, the 2 year old might not be so understanding of the man in the white coat...But you know what? When Dr. A walked in the room, the first thing Ridge did was smile and wave.   Ridge remembered Dr. A.  And maybe one day, he won't.  But maybe...in a very, very good way, he always will.

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I love this blog. God, keep on doing those "miracle" things for my babies, please! Nice writing, daughter!

Anonymous said...

love this.......... and rejoicing with you that you had a 'normal' day!! Jana S

Anonymous said...

I've shed a lot of tears reading your blog, and I just want to thank you for sharing one that allows me to cry happy tears along with you. We continue to be grateful for Ridge's progress, and for the work God has done/is doing in your lives. I still say there's a book in there, Alisha!

Susan said...

awesome. just amazingly awesome. Praise God!