If you've never felt the terror that accompanies watching your child being removed from the ski mountain via ski patrol on a backboard and in a cervical collar, I pray you never do. I experienced this terror yesterday.
Let me start from the beginning. Our family is on a ski trip to Utah and yesterday was a beautiful day spent at Brighton. Gavin was in ski school all day, Ethan took a lesson in the morning and Lindy and Jac spent the day on the slopes together. I spent the day in the lodge reading a particular book. I don't really believe in coincidence as a Christian and I know now that it was part of God's plan that I read that book on that day. After Ethan, Lindy, Jac, and I ate lunch together the four of them set out to ski the greens together. (If you aren't familiar with ski lingo the "greens" are the easiest runs. There are also blues and blacks that are much more difficult than the greens). I had just finished my book about 30 minutes before this incident occurred. It was a book my Dad gave to me at the end of January and he has asked me repeatedly if I have read the book. It's unusual for him to be so persistent about something but he was, nonetheless. I brought it on my ski trip and read it yesterday. The title is "Heaven is for Real" and it is a recounting of a 4-year-old boy's trip to heaven and back. (He was seriously ill and in surgery and during the surgery he "went to heaven.") This may sound farfetched to you but he was able to describe things in his 4-year-old way that are in the Bible but he would have no way of knowing existed at that age. He was also able to tell his parents what they were individually doing during his surgery that he would have no way of knowing. I am telling you, you have to read this book whether you are a person of faith or not. I texted my Mom after I finished it to tell her to let Dad know I had finally read it. I told her that I had to choke back tears through most of the book. Get the book and read it. I promise you won't be sorry. It will give you a peace that you might not have ever felt. I heard not too long ago that the only difference between yourself now and the person you will be in five years are the people you meet and interact with and the books you read that change your life. Find the book.
Anyway, I was in the lodge starting another book yet still reflecting on a recurring theme in "Heaven is for Real." The little boy is very insistent in telling his parents that Jesus wanted them to know that he loves children, He really loves children. About that time Jac ran in the lodge and told me that Ethan was hurt and they were bringing him off the mountain. I found out later that they had been near the top of the lift when it happened and Jac had skied the blues to get down to me as quickly as possible. He even caught some air and tumbled himself but he made it down quickly. When he told me Ethan was being brought down the mountain I knew it couldn't be good. Most of the time when you fall on the mountain you can get up and shake it off and keep going. If ski patrol has to rescue you, it's bad. I took off at a sprint to the bottom of the lift to wait for Ethan and Lindy. It was about the longest five minutes of my life, yet I still felt a sense of peace. Obviously, I was talking to God the whole time but the thought that kept resounding in my mind is that Jesus loves the children. I had a deep peace even though I didn't know what condition Ethan was going to be in when I saw him. As he came into view I saw him strapped to the backboard but completely covered up. He was attached to the ski patrol and Lindy was skiing close behind. Before they stopped I could hear Ethan screaming and crying and panic tried to set in. When I pulled the tarp and blankets back and saw that he was immobilized with his neck in a cervical collar panic really tried to set in. Then, Lindy told me that he and Ethan had collided and both of them had fallen and that Ethan was complaining of severe neck pain. Severe neck pain was not what I wanted to hear but Lindy said he was moving his arms and legs. Thank the Lord, our first answer to prayer. They got him into the clinic and as Lindy and I were walking in he told me that I couldn't fall apart or Ethan would fall apart. If you know my usual response to any injury to my kids you know that it would have been expected for me to be somewhere else lying down or with my head between my knees. I do not do well seeing anyone suffer, but especially my kids. Instead, I went in to nurse mode and started having him move his arms and legs for me so I could see for myself that he could really move. As I was whispering to him and comforting him I was also looking at his pupils. As I held his hands I was checking his grips. He continued to cry and couldn't remember what happened. His neck was in terrible pain, but I had hope that he was going to be OK. The doctor recommended that due to the neck injury he be taken via ambulance to the children's hospital in Salt Lake City. We absolutely agreed because a neck injury is nothing to be taken lightly. While Lindy went to gather up the other boys and all of their gear I stayed with Ethan. At one point I noticed that his left ear was folded forward against the immobilization device and I was able to put it back. This also caused him tremendous pain.
It felt like an ETERNITY for the ambulance to arrive but I had to keep reminding myself that we were about 18 miles up the mountain and the ambulance was coming up from the bottom. Finally, it arrived. Now, if you are prone to motion sickness I do not recommend that you ride in the back of a hot ambulance through the switchbacks with your son strapped to a backboard and not knowing how things would turn out when you got to the bottom. I held it together but, trust me, Lindy would have tossed his cookies. He was right behind the ambulance the whole way in our rental vehicle.
Upon arriving at Primary Children's Hospital the first thing I noticed stenciled on the doors at the ER bay was the saying "Healing Happens in This Place." I latched on to that and continued to thank God for touching Ethan. I still had a peace and I was still holding it together. Once we were all inside I saw that Lindy and Jac were in bad shape. Even Gavin was quiet. They hadn't had the advantage of spending the last hour with Ethan and seeing firsthand how he was doing. Jac was really upset about seeing his brother in this condition and Lindy had to excuse himself for a little bit. I won't try to tell this story from Lindy's viewpoint because I know the experience was different for him in a lot of ways. He was with Ethan when it happened and kept him immobilized until ski patrol arrived. He skied down the mountain behind his little boy on a backboard. I can't imagine what that feels like, but it needs to be said that I don't blame Lindy for any of this. I told Jac in the ER that accidents happen. Our job is to trust God to protect us and know that He knows all things and He loves us. Jesus loves children more than we will ever comprehend. I was reminded of that just minutes before this accident happened.
The doctor came in to assess Ethan accompanied by nurses that were prepared to cut his ski bibs off if necessary. Thank the Lord his Spyder ski bibs zipped all the way up both legs so they didn't have to be cut off. The expense of that would have been minor compared to the ambulance ride down the mountain, an ER bill, and a neck x-ray; but it was a small blessing nonetheless. The staff rolled him off the backboard and the doctor checked all of his vertebrae. No pain, Praise the Lord. Then, they removed the collar and told Ethan he would not be able to nod or shake his head. He would need to answer yes or no to the doctor's questions. He checked out the vertebrae in his neck and no pain. Praise the Lord. The source of the pain was a very swollen and sore left sternocleidomastoid muscle. That's the big muscle on each side of your neck that you can see when you turn your head. He also had an abrasion and a bruise behind his ear. Somehow he lost a little hair on the side of his head in the process. The doctor was pretty confident that Ethan just had a sore neck but he did an x-ray to confirm it. The x-ray showed that he did not have any damage to his vertebrae. Praise the Lord big time!!
Throughout this process Ethan had repeatedly been asked questions by the clinic doctor, the paramedics, and the hospital staff to check his orientation. Questions like, "What's your full name?" "Where are you?" "What day is it?" "What's your birthdate?" Near the end of this heart-wrenching ordeal the doctor had just the five of us in the room and he was going over the questions again. He asks Ethan all of the above questions and then he says, "Ethan, who are these two people" and he points to Lindy and me. He replied, "My Mom and Dad." Then the doctor points to Jac and Gavin and he asks, "And who are these people?" Ethan answers, "My brother and sister." The doctor glances at me with a look of concern but all the rest of us could do was laugh. Our Ethan was back! I explained to the doctor that Ethan is the wise guy in the family and this is very normal for him. Lindy told the doctor that Ethan doesn't have any sisters, only brothers, and he was just being Ethan. The doctor seemed satisfied with that. Personally, I felt a huge release when Ethan gave that response. Our boy was getting back to his old self. Recently, I bought Ethan days of the week underwear which he loves and he makes sure to wear them all on the right days. We brought all of them with us, of course, and I told Ethan if he had had his head on straight when the doctor asked him what day of the week it was he would have told him to check his underwear. That would be classic Ethan.
So, after four hours in the ER we were released to go home and as I walked behind Ethan out of the hospital the only words that came to mind were, "Thank you, Jesus." The night wasn't quite over because as we got out of the SUV on a downtown Salt Lake City street corner to eat dinner Ethan left a deposit of DNA right there in the middle of the sidewalk. Not unexpected for him to toss his cookies after that kind of ordeal and they told us that vomiting would only be a concern if he did it more than once. So far so good.
This recounting of a traumatic event in the lives of the Carnetts may seem to be just that, telling a story we will never forget from our vacation to Utah. It's more than that though. It's really a story of God's timing and protection. I know it was in His timing for me to read the book I mentioned right before this happened. He's so good to us in that way. It's also a story of His protection and His abiding love for all of us. We couldn't be more thankful for God's hand being upon Ethan and protecting Him from serious injury. Accidents happen, as I told Jac, but the Carnett boys won't stop being boys. I wouldn't have it any other way. God gave us boys and I don't want them to live their lives in fear of what may happen. Every day we take calculated risks. Even getting in a car is a calculated risk. I love my boys just the way they are and their father for having a huge hand in the men they will grow up to be--if we can keep them alive in the process. :)
That's basically the end of my story, but Ethan is here with me today. His Dad and brothers are back on the slopes today and Ethan will be too tomorrow or Friday. I told Ethan as part of this blog post I would interview him about his experience so here goes. We're in a little Park City cafe right now and he's wearing his hooded sweat jacket that Mimi got him for Christmas. He won't put the hood down today because he doesn't want people looking at his neck or his ear that isn't quite back in place yet.
Mom: "What do you remember about your accident?"
Ethan: "I don't really remember any of it." (He's basically blocked out the accident itself and the doctor said this isn't uncommon).
Mom: "What were you thinking about when you were strapped down and couldn't move?"
Ethan: "I was wondering where I was because I didn't know what had happened."
Mom: "What did you think about the ambulance ride down the mountain?"
Ethan: "There was an ambulance that took me down the mountain?" (I guess he's blocked out that part too).
Mom: "What part do you remember?"
Ethan: "I remember wanting to get out of the big thing that I was strapped in."
Mom: "What do you want people to know about your accident?"
Ethan: "I was hurt but I'm almost better."
Mom: "Are you ready to go skiing again?"
Ethan: "Kind of, as long as Dad doesn't trip over me." (I'm pretty sure that won't happen again and we don't really know exactly what happened. It was pretty fast, skis got tangled, and both went down. Lindy went down head over heels. Ethan did a massive face plant).
That's all for now. If you're reading this, and you're looking for a "take away" the message is that God cares about us more than we know and, more than anything, His timing is perfect and He protects us and hears our prayers. I hope you'll let Him be real to you in your life. We trust Him implicitly and hope you will too.
Summer 2012
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Valentine's Day--Past and Present: The Post Where I Don't Change Any Names to Protect the Innocent
When I was a little girl my most recurrent memory of Valentine's Day was decorating my box each year to collect the Valentines that would be exchanged at school. I vaguely remember writing out the Valentines to each classmate but the big deal to me was having a highly decorated shoebox to take to school. My Mom is pretty creative in that way--and a lot of other ways--so she always had plenty of items for me to use for bedazzling. At that young age I associated Valentine's Day with the Valentine exchange and not much else. I recall one year when I was still in grade school when my Mom gave me a dark red sweater for Valentine's Day. She probably got me something every year but for some reason that sticks out in my mind and I was touched by getting an actual gift at Valentine's Day. From a very young age my Dad and I shared a love of chocolate and he always got me a box of chocolates each year--usually a heart-shaped box.
As the years went by Valentine's Day took on a bit of a different meaning and it was all about who was going to be "your Valentine." The first Valentine's Day that I remember being truly smitten was when I was in 8th grade. His name was Mark and I had a junior high crush on him for two solid years--literally from the beginning of 7th grade all the way through 8th grade. In fact, it was so significant that I found that there were still emotions attached years later to a particular object. Some time during the last couple years I was at my parents' house and was walking through their bedroom. On my Mom's nightstand was a little ceramic flowered picture frame. It was really small--the size that holds a small school picture. Suddenly, seeing that picture frame brought about a feeling of angst mixed with young love. I stared at the frame trying to figure out what made me feel that way when I looked at it. Then, it dawned on me that this was the frame that held Mark's 7th grade, and then 8th grade, school pictures. I would spend hours looking at it as a young girl but the frame, to this day, still held on to those painful, hormonal, 13-year-old emotions. Anyway, I digress. Now back to Valentine's Day when I was in 8th grade. We had a banquet at church and somehow, someway Mark asked me to be his date. My friend, Sara, was "double-dating" with Mark's friend and it was a most momentous event to a 13-year-old. I don't remember much except that after we ate we walked from one building to another. It had snowed that week and basically all that was left was a little snow and a lot of ice. Of course, junior highers doing as junior highers do, a snowball (iceball) fight ensued. Mark would not remember this, of course, but he ended up clocking me in the side of the head with a ball of ice. It left a nice bruise and it hurt, but to a 13-year-old girl it meant that he cared enough to aim at me. I wore the bruise proudly.
When I was 16 years old there was a Valentine's banquet at another church and two boys I was friends with invited me to go. Their names were Scott and Shane and they were both 15, so neither one of them drove yet. I didn't want to hurt either of their feelings so I told both of them I would go. Since they were friends they decided it would be OK if I drove and picked each of them up and so that's the way the night went. All very innocent, but we got some funny looks when they were taking pictures and there were three of us in the shot.
My first really, truly, I-knew-I-was-in-love boyfriend was Kelly. He truly was my first love and being that he was my first love and we dated for all of 18 months you would think I would remember the Valentine's Day when we were a couple. I'm sure it was special, if it could have been special with him away at college for a lot of that time, but I just don't remember. I'm not sure if Kelly reads my blog or not and if that Valentine's Day was an event and I don't recall it I apologize. Obviously, we've both moved on and are happily married--to other people.
Probably, my most memorable Valentine's Day ever occurred my freshman year in college--which was a few months after Kelly and I went through our heart-wrenching--on my part--break-up. Why does a girl remember the break-up but not the Valentine's Day? Anyway, I had gotten pretty good my freshman year in college at "playing the field." I won't go into details in this post, but if you've ever been a girl in college who lived in a dorm you know--even if you're not willing to admit it--that you want to be one of the girls who gets flowers delivered to the dorm. You want them to stay in the lobby for a little while, so others can see them, and you certainly want your name to be paged over the loud speaker telling you that there are flowers in the lobby that need to be picked up. Come on, girls, be honest and admit it. Well, one of the highlights of my year spent in Burgess Hall at Evangel College was being the "girl with all the flowers" on Valentine's Day. Here's how it went down. I was a little-more-than-just-friends with a boy named James who lived in Tulsa. We would go out when he came to town and we had been friends since junior high. In fact, he's the one who convinced me to transfer to ORU to complete my degree and that was one of the best decisions in my life. James sent me flowers on Valentine's Day and when he called to ask me about them and I described them, they were NOT what he had ordered. So, he called the florist and had a dozen red roses delivered. Both bouquets were beautiful. Right after Valentine's Day he came to visit and just to be sure I got the right flowers he brought more roses. All three bouquets were beautiful. Also, on Valentine's Day a bouquet of pink roses arrived. Those were from Greg, someone who I had been friends with since high school and with whom I had recently been on a date. All four bouquets of flowers were beautiful. Honestly, I think my roommate, Suntaree, was a little annoyed with me because they were starting to infringe on her space and our room smelled like a funeral parlor for about a week. People would stop by my room just to see the "girl with all the flowers." It was a short-lived moment in the spotlight not to be repeated in my next three years in college. Beginner's luck, I suppose.
Only a month after that wonderful aforementioned Valentine's Day I met my true love. His name was Lindy Carnett and we met on March 11, 1991. All thoughts of playing the field went right out the window and I was deeply in love from the first moment I saw him. Since we are coming up on the 20 year anniversary of my love-at-first-sight moment I'll be saving the details of the beginning of our relationship for another post in March. We were immediately inseparable and spent the rest of the school year--until he graduated and left for California--out every night together until curfew. When the next Valentine's Day rolled around we were still dating, albeit long distance as I was in Tulsa by this time and he was in St. Charles. It was really difficult trying to decide what to get him for Valentine's Day. One of the boys mentioned above--and I won't say which one-- said that all a guy really wants on Valentine's Day is a really good kiss. I would say that's a pretty fair statement and we weren't one of those couples like the Duggars who saved the kissing for after the wedding. I still felt it necessary to get him a gift. Guys aren't usually into flowers so instead I had a bouquet of 11 balloons delivered to his office to symbolize the 11 months we had been together. He, in turn, bought me a plane ticket to fly up to St. Charles for Valentine's Day. Where did he take me for dinner? Not where you might think. It wasn't really known as a romantic place. He took me to KC Masterpiece Bar-B-Q. Seriously. I wasn't upset by that because KC Masterpiece had fabulous Bar-B-Q but it's not the first restaurant that comes to mind for Valentine's Day. We didn't spend all of the Valentine's Days together between 1992 and the year we got married. Now, that's really a post for another day. However, I distinctly remember our first Valentine's Day as a married couple. It was 1997 and Lindy asked me what I wanted to do. I told him to surprise me, and surprise me he did. Where did we go? Well, back to KC Masterpiece because that's where we spent our first Valentine's Day as a couple. I was touched that he remembered and it was very sweet.
I haven't had as many Valentine's Day bouquets delivered to my office over the years as I had in college and that's OK. The ones that have been most beautiful are those that were hand-crafted by Judy in Granite City. Just gorgeous. My new motto has almost become, "If they aren't made by Judy they just aren't worth it." In fact, I'm much more practical now and have been known to get really upset if too much money is spent on flowers. I know that's terrible and I should just be grateful to have a husband that cares that much. That's all I'll say about that because it was kind of an ugly Valentine's Day one year when I found out how much he spent. Not pretty--the flowers were but I was not.
We've now spent many, many Valentine's Days together and if I was more of a romantic I would remember each one. Part of the problem contributing to my memory of this holiday is that our anniversary is in March and so sometimes Valentine's Day and anniversary memories run together. I do remember the Valentine's Day that fell the month before our 10th anniversary. I remember it so well because the card from his flowers still hangs on our refrigerator. It says something about being thankful that I had given him three beautiful boys--and at the time I was very pregnant with Gavin and we took him home from the hospital on our 10th anniversary. It was a very sweet card because he was already referring to our 3 boys when we really only had 2.8 boys at that time.
I remember our 11th year as a married couple but I'm not sure if I'm recalling Valentine's Day or our anniversary. Lindy took me to the Melting Pot--now that's a romance-worthy restaurant--and he had a bouquet of 11 roses sitting on our table to symbolize the 11 years we had been married. We have a picture of that night, and if I was at home and not in Utah, I would show it here.
So, enough of Valentine's past. What happened today on this Valentine's Day? We went snowmobiling with our three beautiful boys and then went to dinner together. Lindy said he owes me a dinner out with just the two of us and I'm sure he'll come through on that. I got all four of my boys heart-shaped Reece's peanut butter cups and we celebrated the day together. After all, it's really about celebrating the love we all have for one another.
Happy Valentine's Day to you. I'd love for you to comment about your most memorable Valentine's Day. Hope this year was a good one.
As the years went by Valentine's Day took on a bit of a different meaning and it was all about who was going to be "your Valentine." The first Valentine's Day that I remember being truly smitten was when I was in 8th grade. His name was Mark and I had a junior high crush on him for two solid years--literally from the beginning of 7th grade all the way through 8th grade. In fact, it was so significant that I found that there were still emotions attached years later to a particular object. Some time during the last couple years I was at my parents' house and was walking through their bedroom. On my Mom's nightstand was a little ceramic flowered picture frame. It was really small--the size that holds a small school picture. Suddenly, seeing that picture frame brought about a feeling of angst mixed with young love. I stared at the frame trying to figure out what made me feel that way when I looked at it. Then, it dawned on me that this was the frame that held Mark's 7th grade, and then 8th grade, school pictures. I would spend hours looking at it as a young girl but the frame, to this day, still held on to those painful, hormonal, 13-year-old emotions. Anyway, I digress. Now back to Valentine's Day when I was in 8th grade. We had a banquet at church and somehow, someway Mark asked me to be his date. My friend, Sara, was "double-dating" with Mark's friend and it was a most momentous event to a 13-year-old. I don't remember much except that after we ate we walked from one building to another. It had snowed that week and basically all that was left was a little snow and a lot of ice. Of course, junior highers doing as junior highers do, a snowball (iceball) fight ensued. Mark would not remember this, of course, but he ended up clocking me in the side of the head with a ball of ice. It left a nice bruise and it hurt, but to a 13-year-old girl it meant that he cared enough to aim at me. I wore the bruise proudly.
When I was 16 years old there was a Valentine's banquet at another church and two boys I was friends with invited me to go. Their names were Scott and Shane and they were both 15, so neither one of them drove yet. I didn't want to hurt either of their feelings so I told both of them I would go. Since they were friends they decided it would be OK if I drove and picked each of them up and so that's the way the night went. All very innocent, but we got some funny looks when they were taking pictures and there were three of us in the shot.
My first really, truly, I-knew-I-was-in-love boyfriend was Kelly. He truly was my first love and being that he was my first love and we dated for all of 18 months you would think I would remember the Valentine's Day when we were a couple. I'm sure it was special, if it could have been special with him away at college for a lot of that time, but I just don't remember. I'm not sure if Kelly reads my blog or not and if that Valentine's Day was an event and I don't recall it I apologize. Obviously, we've both moved on and are happily married--to other people.
Probably, my most memorable Valentine's Day ever occurred my freshman year in college--which was a few months after Kelly and I went through our heart-wrenching--on my part--break-up. Why does a girl remember the break-up but not the Valentine's Day? Anyway, I had gotten pretty good my freshman year in college at "playing the field." I won't go into details in this post, but if you've ever been a girl in college who lived in a dorm you know--even if you're not willing to admit it--that you want to be one of the girls who gets flowers delivered to the dorm. You want them to stay in the lobby for a little while, so others can see them, and you certainly want your name to be paged over the loud speaker telling you that there are flowers in the lobby that need to be picked up. Come on, girls, be honest and admit it. Well, one of the highlights of my year spent in Burgess Hall at Evangel College was being the "girl with all the flowers" on Valentine's Day. Here's how it went down. I was a little-more-than-just-friends with a boy named James who lived in Tulsa. We would go out when he came to town and we had been friends since junior high. In fact, he's the one who convinced me to transfer to ORU to complete my degree and that was one of the best decisions in my life. James sent me flowers on Valentine's Day and when he called to ask me about them and I described them, they were NOT what he had ordered. So, he called the florist and had a dozen red roses delivered. Both bouquets were beautiful. Right after Valentine's Day he came to visit and just to be sure I got the right flowers he brought more roses. All three bouquets were beautiful. Also, on Valentine's Day a bouquet of pink roses arrived. Those were from Greg, someone who I had been friends with since high school and with whom I had recently been on a date. All four bouquets of flowers were beautiful. Honestly, I think my roommate, Suntaree, was a little annoyed with me because they were starting to infringe on her space and our room smelled like a funeral parlor for about a week. People would stop by my room just to see the "girl with all the flowers." It was a short-lived moment in the spotlight not to be repeated in my next three years in college. Beginner's luck, I suppose.
Only a month after that wonderful aforementioned Valentine's Day I met my true love. His name was Lindy Carnett and we met on March 11, 1991. All thoughts of playing the field went right out the window and I was deeply in love from the first moment I saw him. Since we are coming up on the 20 year anniversary of my love-at-first-sight moment I'll be saving the details of the beginning of our relationship for another post in March. We were immediately inseparable and spent the rest of the school year--until he graduated and left for California--out every night together until curfew. When the next Valentine's Day rolled around we were still dating, albeit long distance as I was in Tulsa by this time and he was in St. Charles. It was really difficult trying to decide what to get him for Valentine's Day. One of the boys mentioned above--and I won't say which one-- said that all a guy really wants on Valentine's Day is a really good kiss. I would say that's a pretty fair statement and we weren't one of those couples like the Duggars who saved the kissing for after the wedding. I still felt it necessary to get him a gift. Guys aren't usually into flowers so instead I had a bouquet of 11 balloons delivered to his office to symbolize the 11 months we had been together. He, in turn, bought me a plane ticket to fly up to St. Charles for Valentine's Day. Where did he take me for dinner? Not where you might think. It wasn't really known as a romantic place. He took me to KC Masterpiece Bar-B-Q. Seriously. I wasn't upset by that because KC Masterpiece had fabulous Bar-B-Q but it's not the first restaurant that comes to mind for Valentine's Day. We didn't spend all of the Valentine's Days together between 1992 and the year we got married. Now, that's really a post for another day. However, I distinctly remember our first Valentine's Day as a married couple. It was 1997 and Lindy asked me what I wanted to do. I told him to surprise me, and surprise me he did. Where did we go? Well, back to KC Masterpiece because that's where we spent our first Valentine's Day as a couple. I was touched that he remembered and it was very sweet.
I haven't had as many Valentine's Day bouquets delivered to my office over the years as I had in college and that's OK. The ones that have been most beautiful are those that were hand-crafted by Judy in Granite City. Just gorgeous. My new motto has almost become, "If they aren't made by Judy they just aren't worth it." In fact, I'm much more practical now and have been known to get really upset if too much money is spent on flowers. I know that's terrible and I should just be grateful to have a husband that cares that much. That's all I'll say about that because it was kind of an ugly Valentine's Day one year when I found out how much he spent. Not pretty--the flowers were but I was not.
We've now spent many, many Valentine's Days together and if I was more of a romantic I would remember each one. Part of the problem contributing to my memory of this holiday is that our anniversary is in March and so sometimes Valentine's Day and anniversary memories run together. I do remember the Valentine's Day that fell the month before our 10th anniversary. I remember it so well because the card from his flowers still hangs on our refrigerator. It says something about being thankful that I had given him three beautiful boys--and at the time I was very pregnant with Gavin and we took him home from the hospital on our 10th anniversary. It was a very sweet card because he was already referring to our 3 boys when we really only had 2.8 boys at that time.
I remember our 11th year as a married couple but I'm not sure if I'm recalling Valentine's Day or our anniversary. Lindy took me to the Melting Pot--now that's a romance-worthy restaurant--and he had a bouquet of 11 roses sitting on our table to symbolize the 11 years we had been married. We have a picture of that night, and if I was at home and not in Utah, I would show it here.
So, enough of Valentine's past. What happened today on this Valentine's Day? We went snowmobiling with our three beautiful boys and then went to dinner together. Lindy said he owes me a dinner out with just the two of us and I'm sure he'll come through on that. I got all four of my boys heart-shaped Reece's peanut butter cups and we celebrated the day together. After all, it's really about celebrating the love we all have for one another.
Happy Valentine's Day to you. I'd love for you to comment about your most memorable Valentine's Day. Hope this year was a good one.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Random Thoughts on an Ice Day
So, "Ice Day" is in the title of this post instead of "Snow Day" because what we are having today in Missouri--at least in this part of Missouri--is mainly ice, not snow. As I type I can hear the sleet hitting the window outside. Lindy has just ventured out to Wal-Mart because he's "bored." Not unusual for him. He doesn't have to be at cooped up at home for very long before he gets bored. The rest of us Carnetts--and today that includes myself, Jac, Ethan, Gavin, Grammy, PaPa, Aunt Connee, Aunt Ronnin and Justus--are braving the storm where it's warm inside. The extended Carnetts are here because Ronnin and Justus came to visit and we decided it would be more fun to wait out the storm together. We also have a fireplace and a generator so if the power does go out then we might have the possibility of a modicum of comfort. At present, however, Lindy won't let us build a fire because we are in wood conservation mode in case the power does go out and we actually need fire to stay warm. I told him this morning that it looked like the power might go out and so maybe we should start a fire...it didn't work. (See, I told you this was going to be random).
Moving on.... In case anyone reading this post read my last post and is wondering how my 21 Day Fast turned out, here you go. The short end of the story is that I made it through 16 days, with minimal cheating, before I ended it. Why did I end it after 16 days? Well, the dizziness made an ugly appearance on Day 16 and, to be quite frank, it's no fun throwing up when there's nothing to throw up. It's truly not a fun thing to do, ever, in my opinion. I would be a dismal failure as a bulimic. So, due to the dizziness, my history with low blood pressure and low blood sugar, and the premise that this whole inner ear issue is due to a sodium issue (which I believe less and less); I decided it was time to stop. Lindy was in agreement that sometimes you just have to know when to stop and how much your body can take. On a lighter note, I noticed that while I was fasting I spent a lot less time shopping. You might not make the connection, but it was significant to me. You see, I like to shop. I really like to shop. Even if I don't buy anything and I just look and think about ideas for decorating or what accessories would go with which outfits, I just like to shop. What's funny to me is that while I was fasting I didn't go shopping. So, I've already decided that for next year I'm going to give up the three S's that are hard for me to resist--Shopping, Sweets, and Soda. I lost 7 pounds during the fast and I know a big part of that is not having sugar and soda--which is laden with sugar. I especially noticed it around my waistline, which at my advancing age, seems to be my biggest problem area. I'd like to blame it on pregnancy x 3 and C-section x 1, but if you saw my friend Deborah who's had pregnancy x 5--and the last one six months ago--you wouldn't let me blame my issue on birthing my boys. It really is the sugar and soda--at least for me.
A natural segue from shopping would be to mention my mother at this point. She also loooooooves to shop and I know she's feeling good when she's out hitting the sales. She keeps me up to date on what's in style, and she always has. My Mom appreciates a good buy as much as I do. Late last week I had to be in Branson for a 2 day meeting so we got to do a little shopping together. I also noticed once again another thing that we really have in common. We both love to read and I think we both get a little anxious if we go somewhere and we think there might be an opportunity to read and we don't have reading material with us. She's also a really fast reader and while I was in town she read Nicholas Sparks' latest book, "Safe Haven." I had it in my car as it needed to go back to the library so she took it to read while I was in town. It was a fabulous book and we both loved it. Of course, when she finished the book, this resulted in a trip to the library for us to find more Nicholas Sparks books that she hadn't read yet and some Karen Kingsbury books. We talked about how if she's still alive and kickin' when I'm retired we would make a pretty good pair. We would spend most of our time reading, taking naps, shopping, and going to lunch. Sounds like a good life to me.
Continuing on with this random post, another thing we have in common is our long, strong fingernails. We both got this from her mother. Unfortunately, I also got my mother's thick ankles which she got from her father. Why couldn't I have gotten my Dad's ankles or Mau Mau's ankles? Seriously!! But I digress.... Anyway, our nails grow so long and so fast that we sometimes can't keep up with them and just have to chop them all off and start over. I know I know, those of you out there who have paper thin nails are saying, "What are you complaining about, girl??" I get that. My next task after finishing this post is to chop off my nails and give myself a manicure. My other enviable feature is my naturally full lips. All three of my boys got my lips and we call them "kissy lips." These lips did not come from my mother. In fact, back when people didn't pay good money to have lips like mine she used to try to get me to line inside my lips with lipliner so they wouldn't be so big. Now, I proudly wear these lips.
Speaking of why Lindy married me...was I speaking of that? I guess I wasn't, but let me tell you, the lips didn't hurt my chances with him. :) Anyway, the phrase "this is why I married your Mom" came up yesterday. Lindy was flipping through channels yesterday afternoon as we were waiting for the ice to hit and a particular TV show from years ago was on. Lindy said to Jac, "Jac, you see this TV show? This is why I married your Mom." What show was it, you ask? Why it was "I Dream of Jeannie," of course. Back in the day; many, many people--mainly boys--told me that I looked like Jeannie. This was back in high school/college--the same timeframe in which Lindy and I met. There was even one guy at ORU that could never remember my real name so he just called me "Jeannie." Funny. Jac's ideal woman is Carrie Underwood. That's quite a lot to live up to, far away future love interests of Jac, but if you aim high, Jac, you might get close. :)
The last random thing on my mind for today has to do with another old TV show from our childhood. It was also on yesterday and Lindy was making fun of it. He said, "I think this is the one where something tragic happens and all the people in the town pull together to overcome." To which I responded, "I love that one!!" Of course, he was talking about every episode of "Little House on the Prairie." Last night we were talking about how the word "blizzard" has been tossed around to describe our latest weather pattern. I told him my point of reference for a blizzard is from that episode of LHOTP. He thinks I'm crazy and so, of course, he had to give me the official definition of a blizzard. Not long ago I was thinking about random, silly things that bring comfort to me through my senses. Hearing the theme song to LHOTP brings me comfort as does watching the show. "Brady Bunch" does the same thing for me. The smell of plastic dolls comforts me and reminds me of my childhood, as does chocolate chips cookies baking.
Well, that's it, my friends. Enough typing for today and time to go chop these nails so I can type even faster. If you're wondering what's coming next on my blog, I'm going to do a post on "Valentine's Day--Past and Present." Fair warning to any old boyfriends who happen to be readers, I will not be changing names to protect the innocent. Check back in a few days.
Everyone stay safe and warm and don't venture out of the house due to boredom like you-know-who.
Moving on.... In case anyone reading this post read my last post and is wondering how my 21 Day Fast turned out, here you go. The short end of the story is that I made it through 16 days, with minimal cheating, before I ended it. Why did I end it after 16 days? Well, the dizziness made an ugly appearance on Day 16 and, to be quite frank, it's no fun throwing up when there's nothing to throw up. It's truly not a fun thing to do, ever, in my opinion. I would be a dismal failure as a bulimic. So, due to the dizziness, my history with low blood pressure and low blood sugar, and the premise that this whole inner ear issue is due to a sodium issue (which I believe less and less); I decided it was time to stop. Lindy was in agreement that sometimes you just have to know when to stop and how much your body can take. On a lighter note, I noticed that while I was fasting I spent a lot less time shopping. You might not make the connection, but it was significant to me. You see, I like to shop. I really like to shop. Even if I don't buy anything and I just look and think about ideas for decorating or what accessories would go with which outfits, I just like to shop. What's funny to me is that while I was fasting I didn't go shopping. So, I've already decided that for next year I'm going to give up the three S's that are hard for me to resist--Shopping, Sweets, and Soda. I lost 7 pounds during the fast and I know a big part of that is not having sugar and soda--which is laden with sugar. I especially noticed it around my waistline, which at my advancing age, seems to be my biggest problem area. I'd like to blame it on pregnancy x 3 and C-section x 1, but if you saw my friend Deborah who's had pregnancy x 5--and the last one six months ago--you wouldn't let me blame my issue on birthing my boys. It really is the sugar and soda--at least for me.
A natural segue from shopping would be to mention my mother at this point. She also loooooooves to shop and I know she's feeling good when she's out hitting the sales. She keeps me up to date on what's in style, and she always has. My Mom appreciates a good buy as much as I do. Late last week I had to be in Branson for a 2 day meeting so we got to do a little shopping together. I also noticed once again another thing that we really have in common. We both love to read and I think we both get a little anxious if we go somewhere and we think there might be an opportunity to read and we don't have reading material with us. She's also a really fast reader and while I was in town she read Nicholas Sparks' latest book, "Safe Haven." I had it in my car as it needed to go back to the library so she took it to read while I was in town. It was a fabulous book and we both loved it. Of course, when she finished the book, this resulted in a trip to the library for us to find more Nicholas Sparks books that she hadn't read yet and some Karen Kingsbury books. We talked about how if she's still alive and kickin' when I'm retired we would make a pretty good pair. We would spend most of our time reading, taking naps, shopping, and going to lunch. Sounds like a good life to me.
Continuing on with this random post, another thing we have in common is our long, strong fingernails. We both got this from her mother. Unfortunately, I also got my mother's thick ankles which she got from her father. Why couldn't I have gotten my Dad's ankles or Mau Mau's ankles? Seriously!! But I digress.... Anyway, our nails grow so long and so fast that we sometimes can't keep up with them and just have to chop them all off and start over. I know I know, those of you out there who have paper thin nails are saying, "What are you complaining about, girl??" I get that. My next task after finishing this post is to chop off my nails and give myself a manicure. My other enviable feature is my naturally full lips. All three of my boys got my lips and we call them "kissy lips." These lips did not come from my mother. In fact, back when people didn't pay good money to have lips like mine she used to try to get me to line inside my lips with lipliner so they wouldn't be so big. Now, I proudly wear these lips.
Speaking of why Lindy married me...was I speaking of that? I guess I wasn't, but let me tell you, the lips didn't hurt my chances with him. :) Anyway, the phrase "this is why I married your Mom" came up yesterday. Lindy was flipping through channels yesterday afternoon as we were waiting for the ice to hit and a particular TV show from years ago was on. Lindy said to Jac, "Jac, you see this TV show? This is why I married your Mom." What show was it, you ask? Why it was "I Dream of Jeannie," of course. Back in the day; many, many people--mainly boys--told me that I looked like Jeannie. This was back in high school/college--the same timeframe in which Lindy and I met. There was even one guy at ORU that could never remember my real name so he just called me "Jeannie." Funny. Jac's ideal woman is Carrie Underwood. That's quite a lot to live up to, far away future love interests of Jac, but if you aim high, Jac, you might get close. :)
The last random thing on my mind for today has to do with another old TV show from our childhood. It was also on yesterday and Lindy was making fun of it. He said, "I think this is the one where something tragic happens and all the people in the town pull together to overcome." To which I responded, "I love that one!!" Of course, he was talking about every episode of "Little House on the Prairie." Last night we were talking about how the word "blizzard" has been tossed around to describe our latest weather pattern. I told him my point of reference for a blizzard is from that episode of LHOTP. He thinks I'm crazy and so, of course, he had to give me the official definition of a blizzard. Not long ago I was thinking about random, silly things that bring comfort to me through my senses. Hearing the theme song to LHOTP brings me comfort as does watching the show. "Brady Bunch" does the same thing for me. The smell of plastic dolls comforts me and reminds me of my childhood, as does chocolate chips cookies baking.
Well, that's it, my friends. Enough typing for today and time to go chop these nails so I can type even faster. If you're wondering what's coming next on my blog, I'm going to do a post on "Valentine's Day--Past and Present." Fair warning to any old boyfriends who happen to be readers, I will not be changing names to protect the innocent. Check back in a few days.
Everyone stay safe and warm and don't venture out of the house due to boredom like you-know-who.
Friday, December 31, 2010
God's Gifts to Me and How I'm Going to Express My Thankfulness to Him
Today is the last day of 2010 and the fourth day of my pre-fast to start a 21 Day Fast. What???!!! Yeah, you read that right. If you've never heard of or considered a fast that is that long then you undoubtedly think I'm out of my mind. I've done it twice before in January but I skipped it last year. I typically don't say anything about it except to others in my life who are doing the same thing in January but I feel like I need to share about it this year. Before you think I'm doing it to lose weight, think again. Not that I can't spare a few pounds--I certainly can--but if you set out to fast for 21 days just to lose weight you will fail miserably. This is much more a spiritual thing than a physical thing but it ends up being a very mental thing as well as you make the conscious choice to deny that cookie or piece of cake or slice of bread or whatever. You might wonder why I'm choosing to do it this year after skipping last year and I'll get to that later. A lot of people fast because they are praying for specific things and I honestly have to say that I'm really not praying for anything specific. My main purpose in doing the fast this year is because my heart is just overflowing with thankfulness for all that God has accomplished in 2010 and how he shows His faithfulness over and over to me.
I guess I need to back up a little to give a better explanation. This is probably going to end up being another transparent post like this one with an update to that post thrown in. On Christmas Day we were opening gifts at my parents' house and Ethan was sitting on the floor next to my chair. We had already opened gifts on Christmas Eve with Uncle Rob, Aunt Lisa, Alex, Mimi and Poppy; but Christmas Day was for the Santa gifts. Ethan had a good number of gifts to open and every now and then he would lean over to me and whisper that he couldn't believe he had gotten that many gifts. When we were finished opening he said, "Wow. I didn't know I was that good of a boy this year." While it was funny in the moment and I explained to him that some of his gifts were to share with his older brother and younger brother--benefits of being the middle child--I started to give it further thought later on. First of all, Ethan is a good boy. All of my boys are good and I tell them so frequently. They aren't perfect, and they won't ever be; but they are obedient, sweet, and the absolute light of my life. But, Ethan relating getting lots of gifts to being a good boy made me think of how we have to do absolutely nothing to receive the true gift of Christmas--God's Son, Jesus. He sent His Son to make the ultimate sacrifice and we can't do anything to earn it. It's a free gift, only contingent upon our willingness to accept it. When I decided to do the fast I thought about this gift and how I just want to express my thankfulness to Him.
Now, to answer the question as to why I skipped last year, it was because of my inner ear situation. I began having the serious equilibrium episodes in mid-November last year and since one of the thoughts is that it's related to sodium intake I didn't want to rock the boat with my tenuous, unpredictable condition. Once again, if you want the full rundown of what happened to me physically up until October 2010 then you need to read this post. However, in mid-October I believe I came upon the final solution to my inner ear problems. I have my Mom to thank for that, and of course, God for leading me to the solution. Here's where I sound like I'm getting compensated from my new doctor for saying this. I started going to one of only two doctors in St. Louis who do "upper cervical care." It's a completely different kind of chiropractic care that focuses solely on the top seven vertebrae. Before you think I'm crazy, let me tell that you that the proof is in the results. It's possible that the misalignment in my upper cervical spine is due to a bad fall I took down the stairs when I was ten years old and it brought about the symptoms I've experienced over the last three years. Currently, I have very low-volume ringing in my left ear and no equilibrium symptoms at all. Yea!!! I feel like I have my life back. I won't go into detail as to how it works for sake of not making a long post even longer, but if you are interested in learning more about it you can google "upper cervical care." I found my doctor by googling "upper cervical care St. Louis." This type of treatment helps all sorts of problems; specifically fibromyalgia, sinus problems, migraines, digestive issues, etc. etc. The list goes on. I am just so thankful to have found the solution to this life-altering, depressing, frustrating situation. My neurotologist told me at my follow-up appointment after having upper cervical care for about 3 weeks and having a near-perfect hearing test that if this is really the solution to my inner ear condition then he is going back to chiropractic school. Ha!! He was skeptical, to say the least, but after my hearing test he agreed to read my brochure. I go back to see him again in February and I can't wait to do just a tad bit of gloating. When I decided to do the fast I thought about this gift and how I just want to express my thankfulness to Him.
What else do I have to be thankful for, you might ask? Of course, there's the usual list of things which we can often take for granted. Healthy family, my job, food and shelter, cute shoes--you know, the usual things. But, this year God answered a big prayer for our church in a big way and he did it in His timing which happened to be the week of Christmas. A coincidence? I think not. This is another little piece of transparency which I choose not to share most of the time but I will today in order to give God every bit of the glory. You see, like many churches our church has struggled in an immense way financially over the last 2+ years. It's been bad...really bad. So bad that Lindy has sacrificed so many paychecks over the last 2 years that I gave up counting them about 18 months ago. He did this so that the staff could get paid because we definitely did not want to lose them. Doing ministry without staff--specifically our staff--was a worse option by far than sacrificing income. It was also a matter of making sure the church electric bill got paid. There were many instances where it was an hour before they were coming to turn off the electric and the money was somehow scraped together to keep it from happening. Needless to say, this has been extremely stressful for Lindy, who carried this emotional burden of this by himself for a long time; and then for the staff and the board. But, as we know, God is always faithful and He always pays his debts. We can stand upon His promises. His Word says that He honors our faithfulness to Him and while Lindy and I have been faithful in tithing, giving to missions, taking visiting ministers and missionaries out to lunch; we always knew that we couldn't out give God and He would show Himself faithful. He absolutely did. Without getting too technical in this explanation, Lindy and the board worked an amazing deal for an easement on the cell tower that sits on the church property; and it has proven to be very lucrative. After Lindy closed the deal on the Monday before Christmas the church got the first check that not only was used to tithe to several ministries and missionaries, it got the church completely out of debt--with the exception of the mortgage--and started paying Lindy back a few paychecks along with some reimbursement of expenses incurred over the last three moths, and a tidy little bonus to boot. The staff were also paid in full and given bonuses; and we all rejoiced in what we knew God would do all along--be faithful to His promises. When I decided to do the fast I thought about this gift and how I just want to express my thankfulness to Him.
This has been an eventful year full of blessings. I am a "glass half full" person so I tend to focus on the good and shake off the bad. I know that 2011 will be wonderful in unexpected ways and I can't wait to see what God does just because I choose to trust Him. I pray God's best for you in this new year too.
I guess I need to back up a little to give a better explanation. This is probably going to end up being another transparent post like this one with an update to that post thrown in. On Christmas Day we were opening gifts at my parents' house and Ethan was sitting on the floor next to my chair. We had already opened gifts on Christmas Eve with Uncle Rob, Aunt Lisa, Alex, Mimi and Poppy; but Christmas Day was for the Santa gifts. Ethan had a good number of gifts to open and every now and then he would lean over to me and whisper that he couldn't believe he had gotten that many gifts. When we were finished opening he said, "Wow. I didn't know I was that good of a boy this year." While it was funny in the moment and I explained to him that some of his gifts were to share with his older brother and younger brother--benefits of being the middle child--I started to give it further thought later on. First of all, Ethan is a good boy. All of my boys are good and I tell them so frequently. They aren't perfect, and they won't ever be; but they are obedient, sweet, and the absolute light of my life. But, Ethan relating getting lots of gifts to being a good boy made me think of how we have to do absolutely nothing to receive the true gift of Christmas--God's Son, Jesus. He sent His Son to make the ultimate sacrifice and we can't do anything to earn it. It's a free gift, only contingent upon our willingness to accept it. When I decided to do the fast I thought about this gift and how I just want to express my thankfulness to Him.
Now, to answer the question as to why I skipped last year, it was because of my inner ear situation. I began having the serious equilibrium episodes in mid-November last year and since one of the thoughts is that it's related to sodium intake I didn't want to rock the boat with my tenuous, unpredictable condition. Once again, if you want the full rundown of what happened to me physically up until October 2010 then you need to read this post. However, in mid-October I believe I came upon the final solution to my inner ear problems. I have my Mom to thank for that, and of course, God for leading me to the solution. Here's where I sound like I'm getting compensated from my new doctor for saying this. I started going to one of only two doctors in St. Louis who do "upper cervical care." It's a completely different kind of chiropractic care that focuses solely on the top seven vertebrae. Before you think I'm crazy, let me tell that you that the proof is in the results. It's possible that the misalignment in my upper cervical spine is due to a bad fall I took down the stairs when I was ten years old and it brought about the symptoms I've experienced over the last three years. Currently, I have very low-volume ringing in my left ear and no equilibrium symptoms at all. Yea!!! I feel like I have my life back. I won't go into detail as to how it works for sake of not making a long post even longer, but if you are interested in learning more about it you can google "upper cervical care." I found my doctor by googling "upper cervical care St. Louis." This type of treatment helps all sorts of problems; specifically fibromyalgia, sinus problems, migraines, digestive issues, etc. etc. The list goes on. I am just so thankful to have found the solution to this life-altering, depressing, frustrating situation. My neurotologist told me at my follow-up appointment after having upper cervical care for about 3 weeks and having a near-perfect hearing test that if this is really the solution to my inner ear condition then he is going back to chiropractic school. Ha!! He was skeptical, to say the least, but after my hearing test he agreed to read my brochure. I go back to see him again in February and I can't wait to do just a tad bit of gloating. When I decided to do the fast I thought about this gift and how I just want to express my thankfulness to Him.
What else do I have to be thankful for, you might ask? Of course, there's the usual list of things which we can often take for granted. Healthy family, my job, food and shelter, cute shoes--you know, the usual things. But, this year God answered a big prayer for our church in a big way and he did it in His timing which happened to be the week of Christmas. A coincidence? I think not. This is another little piece of transparency which I choose not to share most of the time but I will today in order to give God every bit of the glory. You see, like many churches our church has struggled in an immense way financially over the last 2+ years. It's been bad...really bad. So bad that Lindy has sacrificed so many paychecks over the last 2 years that I gave up counting them about 18 months ago. He did this so that the staff could get paid because we definitely did not want to lose them. Doing ministry without staff--specifically our staff--was a worse option by far than sacrificing income. It was also a matter of making sure the church electric bill got paid. There were many instances where it was an hour before they were coming to turn off the electric and the money was somehow scraped together to keep it from happening. Needless to say, this has been extremely stressful for Lindy, who carried this emotional burden of this by himself for a long time; and then for the staff and the board. But, as we know, God is always faithful and He always pays his debts. We can stand upon His promises. His Word says that He honors our faithfulness to Him and while Lindy and I have been faithful in tithing, giving to missions, taking visiting ministers and missionaries out to lunch; we always knew that we couldn't out give God and He would show Himself faithful. He absolutely did. Without getting too technical in this explanation, Lindy and the board worked an amazing deal for an easement on the cell tower that sits on the church property; and it has proven to be very lucrative. After Lindy closed the deal on the Monday before Christmas the church got the first check that not only was used to tithe to several ministries and missionaries, it got the church completely out of debt--with the exception of the mortgage--and started paying Lindy back a few paychecks along with some reimbursement of expenses incurred over the last three moths, and a tidy little bonus to boot. The staff were also paid in full and given bonuses; and we all rejoiced in what we knew God would do all along--be faithful to His promises. When I decided to do the fast I thought about this gift and how I just want to express my thankfulness to Him.
This has been an eventful year full of blessings. I am a "glass half full" person so I tend to focus on the good and shake off the bad. I know that 2011 will be wonderful in unexpected ways and I can't wait to see what God does just because I choose to trust Him. I pray God's best for you in this new year too.
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Ethan is MY HERO...and for the Last Reason You Might Expect
Fair warning to any readers who have a weak constitution--in other words this post is sure to be both graphic and gross. I know parents of young children will relate to this, and specifically, about 20 of my close friends whose families have had the recent displeasure of experiencing the horrific scourge known as the...stomach flu.
Our experience began in the wee hours of December 1--what a way to usher in the month we celebrate our Savior's birth. It began with Jac, oldest at eleven years old, coming in our room to tell us that Gavin, youngest at four years old, had thrown up. This was at 12:37 a.m. (I know you're familiar with how those times that register on the clock when something significant happens stay lodged in your mind's eye). Why, you ask, was it Jac that came to tell us that his brother had thrown up? Well, of course, it's because not only had Gavin thrown up all over his bed including his pillow and covers and he had managed to spray a large amount on the wall behind his bed which then ran down to puddle in the carpet below; but he also managed to go to Jac's room and throw up on Jac's comforter and the clothes he had set out for the next morning. Nice! So, Lindy and I jumped into action and assume our usual roles. I'm on kid and laundry duty. He's on carpet duty. I started the bedding in the laundry, got Gavin showered and changed; and Lindy cleaned the vomit sprayed on the wall and puddled in the carpet. Honestly, he was surprised it came out but Oxyclean and Folex work wonders. Gavin spent the rest of the night on the floor in a sleeping bag in front of his bathroom. Each time he would yell out I would run to him, scoop him up, and hold him over the toilet. Gavin's stomach flu lasted about three days with Lindy, myself, and Grammy making sure he made it to the toilet each time. We were all praying that it wouldn't spread as the scourge known as stomach flu has a tendency to do. I was praying especially hard because on December 3 I was leaving to go to Chicago on a girls' weekend. We should have bought stock in Lysol and Clorox wipes. I even made Gavin wipe his hands and mouth with a Clorox wipe. I know, I know that we are not supposed to disinfect kids but I really did not want to get sick. I kept the Pepto Bismol close at hand and, thank God, did not get sick. Neither did the rest of my family and we thought we were home free until...
Jac awakened us more than a week later in the wee hours of December 10 to tell us that he had thrown up. He and Ethan, middlest at eight years old, had been complaining of stomachaches the night before and Jac got first dibs at tossing his cookies in the middle of the night. Now, you would think that our oldest child would have the best success at actually making it to the toilet when he was sick. Not so, my friend. Believe it or not, this was worse than when Gavin threw up. Jac managed to get it all over his bed and both pillows, he sprayed an area about 4 feet by 4 feet on the carpet and rug in his room which also managed to splash on to the wall and other items that were within spraying distance. He managed to get it on both bathroom rugs and the toilet itself. I stood there looking in the toilet trying to detect whether any had actually made its way into the toilet. There were a few token fragments in the toilet but nothing that compared to the display he had just managed to create for his Dad and me to clean up. Lindy and I just stood in awe outside his room for a moment taking in the sight and smell. It was an impressive effort of not making it to the toilet. Once the moment passed we went into action--me on laundry and Jac duty, Lindy on carpet duty. Fortunately, the part that sprayed on the carpet was more liquid. Most of the non-liquid matter--and you know what I mean--was on his bed, especially his pillows. I had the wonderful task of washing off the pillowcases before putting everything in the laundry. Lindy went to work on the carpet with the hand-held carpet cleaner that we borrowed from his Mom a long time ago and forgot to return. Thanks, Grammy, it came in handy that night considering it was more than just a puddle of puke as Gavin had delivered for us. I set Jac up on the floor in front of his bathroom in a sleeping bag with a towel spread out next to him. I don't waste time with bowls or trash cans with Jac because he can't hit a target that is that defined. He did manage to throw up on the towel later on in the night. Both Jac and Ethan were sick the next day and Ethan threw up during daylight hours. It passed quickly through both of them and, once again, we prayed that the rest of us wouldn't get sick. We thought we were home free until...
Ethan awakened us almost a week later at 3:00 a.m. on December 16 to tell us he had thrown up. That's right, we're three for three and the middle child will not be left out of Middle-of-the-Night Pukapallooza. My first question, of course, was, "Ethan, where did you throw up?" His response, with a little smugness thrown in was, "In the toilet." You see, what I haven't mentioned until now is that Ethan is the kid with the claim to fame of having the greatest success at actually making it to the toilet. From the time he was very little--like two years old--if he was sick he would just walk to the bathroom and throw up and then find us to let us know. Apparently his brothers take after their Aunt Ronnin. As legend has it, she didn't ever make it to the toilet to throw up until she was 17 years old. I happened to be at their house when she attained this momentous achievement and, believe it or not, everyone applauded. Seriously, we all clapped for her. I think her mother was clapping the loudest and I can relate.
So, when Ethan indicated that there was not going to be laundry to sanitize or carpet to painstakingly clean at three in the morning, my immediate reply was, "ETHAN, YOU'RE MY HERO!!" I was especially thrilled that he had made it to the toilet because he had eaten spaghetti the night before. Need I say more? Lindy quickly went back to bed when he saw that his assistance would not be needed and I comforted Ethan and got him set back up in bed with a towel on the floor and a trash can. Of course, he didn't need either of those things because he made it to the toilet once again at 4:37 a.m. I feel the need to give a bit of a disclaimer here. Ethan has been sleeping in the guest room lately and not the top bunk, where his actual assigned bed is located. This post could have had a very different slant to it if he had been sleeping in the top bunk. Nevertheless, my money would still have been on Ethan to make it to the toilet from the top bunk. That's why he's my hero.
Our experience began in the wee hours of December 1--what a way to usher in the month we celebrate our Savior's birth. It began with Jac, oldest at eleven years old, coming in our room to tell us that Gavin, youngest at four years old, had thrown up. This was at 12:37 a.m. (I know you're familiar with how those times that register on the clock when something significant happens stay lodged in your mind's eye). Why, you ask, was it Jac that came to tell us that his brother had thrown up? Well, of course, it's because not only had Gavin thrown up all over his bed including his pillow and covers and he had managed to spray a large amount on the wall behind his bed which then ran down to puddle in the carpet below; but he also managed to go to Jac's room and throw up on Jac's comforter and the clothes he had set out for the next morning. Nice! So, Lindy and I jumped into action and assume our usual roles. I'm on kid and laundry duty. He's on carpet duty. I started the bedding in the laundry, got Gavin showered and changed; and Lindy cleaned the vomit sprayed on the wall and puddled in the carpet. Honestly, he was surprised it came out but Oxyclean and Folex work wonders. Gavin spent the rest of the night on the floor in a sleeping bag in front of his bathroom. Each time he would yell out I would run to him, scoop him up, and hold him over the toilet. Gavin's stomach flu lasted about three days with Lindy, myself, and Grammy making sure he made it to the toilet each time. We were all praying that it wouldn't spread as the scourge known as stomach flu has a tendency to do. I was praying especially hard because on December 3 I was leaving to go to Chicago on a girls' weekend. We should have bought stock in Lysol and Clorox wipes. I even made Gavin wipe his hands and mouth with a Clorox wipe. I know, I know that we are not supposed to disinfect kids but I really did not want to get sick. I kept the Pepto Bismol close at hand and, thank God, did not get sick. Neither did the rest of my family and we thought we were home free until...
Jac awakened us more than a week later in the wee hours of December 10 to tell us that he had thrown up. He and Ethan, middlest at eight years old, had been complaining of stomachaches the night before and Jac got first dibs at tossing his cookies in the middle of the night. Now, you would think that our oldest child would have the best success at actually making it to the toilet when he was sick. Not so, my friend. Believe it or not, this was worse than when Gavin threw up. Jac managed to get it all over his bed and both pillows, he sprayed an area about 4 feet by 4 feet on the carpet and rug in his room which also managed to splash on to the wall and other items that were within spraying distance. He managed to get it on both bathroom rugs and the toilet itself. I stood there looking in the toilet trying to detect whether any had actually made its way into the toilet. There were a few token fragments in the toilet but nothing that compared to the display he had just managed to create for his Dad and me to clean up. Lindy and I just stood in awe outside his room for a moment taking in the sight and smell. It was an impressive effort of not making it to the toilet. Once the moment passed we went into action--me on laundry and Jac duty, Lindy on carpet duty. Fortunately, the part that sprayed on the carpet was more liquid. Most of the non-liquid matter--and you know what I mean--was on his bed, especially his pillows. I had the wonderful task of washing off the pillowcases before putting everything in the laundry. Lindy went to work on the carpet with the hand-held carpet cleaner that we borrowed from his Mom a long time ago and forgot to return. Thanks, Grammy, it came in handy that night considering it was more than just a puddle of puke as Gavin had delivered for us. I set Jac up on the floor in front of his bathroom in a sleeping bag with a towel spread out next to him. I don't waste time with bowls or trash cans with Jac because he can't hit a target that is that defined. He did manage to throw up on the towel later on in the night. Both Jac and Ethan were sick the next day and Ethan threw up during daylight hours. It passed quickly through both of them and, once again, we prayed that the rest of us wouldn't get sick. We thought we were home free until...
Ethan awakened us almost a week later at 3:00 a.m. on December 16 to tell us he had thrown up. That's right, we're three for three and the middle child will not be left out of Middle-of-the-Night Pukapallooza. My first question, of course, was, "Ethan, where did you throw up?" His response, with a little smugness thrown in was, "In the toilet." You see, what I haven't mentioned until now is that Ethan is the kid with the claim to fame of having the greatest success at actually making it to the toilet. From the time he was very little--like two years old--if he was sick he would just walk to the bathroom and throw up and then find us to let us know. Apparently his brothers take after their Aunt Ronnin. As legend has it, she didn't ever make it to the toilet to throw up until she was 17 years old. I happened to be at their house when she attained this momentous achievement and, believe it or not, everyone applauded. Seriously, we all clapped for her. I think her mother was clapping the loudest and I can relate.
So, when Ethan indicated that there was not going to be laundry to sanitize or carpet to painstakingly clean at three in the morning, my immediate reply was, "ETHAN, YOU'RE MY HERO!!" I was especially thrilled that he had made it to the toilet because he had eaten spaghetti the night before. Need I say more? Lindy quickly went back to bed when he saw that his assistance would not be needed and I comforted Ethan and got him set back up in bed with a towel on the floor and a trash can. Of course, he didn't need either of those things because he made it to the toilet once again at 4:37 a.m. I feel the need to give a bit of a disclaimer here. Ethan has been sleeping in the guest room lately and not the top bunk, where his actual assigned bed is located. This post could have had a very different slant to it if he had been sleeping in the top bunk. Nevertheless, my money would still have been on Ethan to make it to the toilet from the top bunk. That's why he's my hero.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Social Media and My Old School Ways
This post is certainly not original in any way. It's probable that nothing that I have to say will be fabulously enlightening because I'm sure it's all been said before in one way or another. However, it's been on my mind lately so I thought I would just put it down on paper--or in the form of a blog post.
I've been thinking about this massive influx of social media that is apparently here to stay--like it or not. I know I am terribly old school, but I am one of those people who has never even liked talking on the phone. If I'm going to have a conversation with someone I would much rather do it in person. So much of our communication is non-verbal and I would rather be face-to-face than over the phone. The one huge exception to that was when Lindy and I were in the long distance phase of our relationship and we would talk for HOOOOOOURS on the phone. Those were the days before free long distance on cell phones or home phones but that was the only option we had. You take what you can get. It was also before e-mail. :) Wow, we're old!!
Now, we have MySpace (which is old news) and Facebook (which is fun but can be a huge time-sucker), texting, Twitter, etc. I'm sure there are other newer forms of social media which I haven't even started to learn about. It took me a while to catch the texting wave but I've found that I really enjoy it. One thing that I can't seem to get the hang of is all of the texting abbreviations. In fact, I've made the choice not to get the hang of it and I have such an aversion to it that I try to text with my, typically, correct grammar. I try to do this even when I'm sending out mass texts at work from my computer. The only time I abbreviate is when I have to in order to fit in my message in 140 characters. I'm not the first one to say that all of these short cuts have provided our younger generation with a serious disservice. Not only do they not communicate as well verbally, they can't write their way out of a paper bag. Of course, I'm making generalizations here.
I think what it boils down to in my mind is that our lives have gotten so busy that we can't even take the time to text in proper grammar. We don't have time to see each other in person or even pick up the phone to have a conversation. We're so busy that we even have to abbreviate the little blips that we send back and forth to each other. What kind of message, figuratively, are we sending to each other? Maybe I'm really over thinking this and I certainly don't want to offend anyone out there who could school me on all the texting shortcuts but I just feel that time is one of the greatest commodities we can give one another. Communication has become so stilted that we've really lost sight of what is important.
This brings to mind the annual birthday tradition that my friend, Deanna, and I have together. She's very busy, as am I, and it's really difficult for us to make the time to get together with each other. But, once a year I treat her to dinner and a movie. The gift I'm really giving her is time because the time we give each other is more precious than any gift that can be purchased. Likewise, she's giving me the gift of her time since she's definitely no less busy than me.
Maybe all of this social media has allowed us to connect with more people--around the globe, long-lost friends from the past, etc. but much of it is so shallow that even though we've made our world smaller we've also found a convenient way to put up walls and only communicate when and how we want. We've lost sight of sharing our thoughts and feelings with each other and maybe being there to see the tears on a friend's face and to give a pat on the shoulder or a comforting hug.
I do like to communicate via e-mail but I proofread every one that I send out to make sure it has the right grammar, tone, content, etc. I'm really weird that way. E-mail is a huge time saver but it can be impersonal as well since it falls far short of face-to-face communication.
As far as Twitter is concerned I don't have a Twitter account, don't know how to get one, and don't care to get one. I don't think anyone has a desire to know what I'm doing minute by minute and I, frankly, don't have the time or energy to read Tweets about what friends and strangers alike are doing at any given time. Call me crazy, call me old school, call me whatever you want. I may eat these words one day but I doubt it.
Of course, there is a deeper meaning in my mind related to all that has transpired in our "microwave society." For many of us who have a relationship with God it has affected the time we are willing to give to Him. I think if we could we would just send him a text with our needs and hope he's up there somewhere reading it. We read a verse a day on our Facebook accounts or say a quick prayer and we think that's enough. God hasn't changed. He's the same yesterday, today, and forever. Our time, along with our heart, is the most valuable commodity we can give to Him. We get out of any relationship what we put into it. I don't want to give God my shortcuts. I want to give Him my very best. I don't want the pace at which our lives move to affect what I'm willing to give to Him. He's given everything to me. That's the least I can do.
I have to admit that as I close this post I am feeling a little hypocritical because as I was typing I was flashing back and forth between instant messaging with my cousin on Facebook and writing this post. I haven't seen her for many years and we've been able to reconnect through Facebook, but alas, it's still not as good as seeing Cara in the flesh. I guess I'll still take what I can get...and I'll use proper grammar and no shortcuts while I'm doing it. :)
I've been thinking about this massive influx of social media that is apparently here to stay--like it or not. I know I am terribly old school, but I am one of those people who has never even liked talking on the phone. If I'm going to have a conversation with someone I would much rather do it in person. So much of our communication is non-verbal and I would rather be face-to-face than over the phone. The one huge exception to that was when Lindy and I were in the long distance phase of our relationship and we would talk for HOOOOOOURS on the phone. Those were the days before free long distance on cell phones or home phones but that was the only option we had. You take what you can get. It was also before e-mail. :) Wow, we're old!!
Now, we have MySpace (which is old news) and Facebook (which is fun but can be a huge time-sucker), texting, Twitter, etc. I'm sure there are other newer forms of social media which I haven't even started to learn about. It took me a while to catch the texting wave but I've found that I really enjoy it. One thing that I can't seem to get the hang of is all of the texting abbreviations. In fact, I've made the choice not to get the hang of it and I have such an aversion to it that I try to text with my, typically, correct grammar. I try to do this even when I'm sending out mass texts at work from my computer. The only time I abbreviate is when I have to in order to fit in my message in 140 characters. I'm not the first one to say that all of these short cuts have provided our younger generation with a serious disservice. Not only do they not communicate as well verbally, they can't write their way out of a paper bag. Of course, I'm making generalizations here.
I think what it boils down to in my mind is that our lives have gotten so busy that we can't even take the time to text in proper grammar. We don't have time to see each other in person or even pick up the phone to have a conversation. We're so busy that we even have to abbreviate the little blips that we send back and forth to each other. What kind of message, figuratively, are we sending to each other? Maybe I'm really over thinking this and I certainly don't want to offend anyone out there who could school me on all the texting shortcuts but I just feel that time is one of the greatest commodities we can give one another. Communication has become so stilted that we've really lost sight of what is important.
This brings to mind the annual birthday tradition that my friend, Deanna, and I have together. She's very busy, as am I, and it's really difficult for us to make the time to get together with each other. But, once a year I treat her to dinner and a movie. The gift I'm really giving her is time because the time we give each other is more precious than any gift that can be purchased. Likewise, she's giving me the gift of her time since she's definitely no less busy than me.
Maybe all of this social media has allowed us to connect with more people--around the globe, long-lost friends from the past, etc. but much of it is so shallow that even though we've made our world smaller we've also found a convenient way to put up walls and only communicate when and how we want. We've lost sight of sharing our thoughts and feelings with each other and maybe being there to see the tears on a friend's face and to give a pat on the shoulder or a comforting hug.
I do like to communicate via e-mail but I proofread every one that I send out to make sure it has the right grammar, tone, content, etc. I'm really weird that way. E-mail is a huge time saver but it can be impersonal as well since it falls far short of face-to-face communication.
As far as Twitter is concerned I don't have a Twitter account, don't know how to get one, and don't care to get one. I don't think anyone has a desire to know what I'm doing minute by minute and I, frankly, don't have the time or energy to read Tweets about what friends and strangers alike are doing at any given time. Call me crazy, call me old school, call me whatever you want. I may eat these words one day but I doubt it.
Of course, there is a deeper meaning in my mind related to all that has transpired in our "microwave society." For many of us who have a relationship with God it has affected the time we are willing to give to Him. I think if we could we would just send him a text with our needs and hope he's up there somewhere reading it. We read a verse a day on our Facebook accounts or say a quick prayer and we think that's enough. God hasn't changed. He's the same yesterday, today, and forever. Our time, along with our heart, is the most valuable commodity we can give to Him. We get out of any relationship what we put into it. I don't want to give God my shortcuts. I want to give Him my very best. I don't want the pace at which our lives move to affect what I'm willing to give to Him. He's given everything to me. That's the least I can do.
I have to admit that as I close this post I am feeling a little hypocritical because as I was typing I was flashing back and forth between instant messaging with my cousin on Facebook and writing this post. I haven't seen her for many years and we've been able to reconnect through Facebook, but alas, it's still not as good as seeing Cara in the flesh. I guess I'll still take what I can get...and I'll use proper grammar and no shortcuts while I'm doing it. :)
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A Post--Eventually--About Something I've Never Done Before
OK, so apparently I must like shoes. By that, I mean that I really must like shoes...like more than I ever knew I liked shoes...like it seems that I actually LOVE shoes. I didn't realize this about myself until this week. I was planning to write this post about doing something I've never done before and I started looking around me and realizing that everyone else already knew how much I love shoes...whilst it didn't even strike me that maybe I like shoes more than the average person. Yes, it's true that I have a plastic bin in the basement that holds my "off season" shoes just like I have a huge hanging rack that holds all my "off-season" clothes. I never saw anything odd about trading out my clothes each season. My Mom always does it, her Mom did it, and since college I have either been transporting seasonal clothes back and forth to school or changing out clothes from one closet to another, or now--from my closet to the basement. I'm realizing now that maybe it's NOT so common to trade out your shoes on a seasonal basis.
Back to the "looking around me" part. I started looking around my office and noticed that my co-workers definitely know that I like shoes. In fact, they know that I love shoes. Following are a few examples of cards, gifts, functional items, office supplies, etc. that they have presented me with over the years because they apparently know how much I love shoes.
This is a red high heel door stop that Christine got me for Christmas one year. Enough said.
These magnets came with note cards shown below.
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| I think this was from our previous home care administrator, Michelle. |
I believe the sweet little picture below was from our previous receptionist, Michelle. If you can't tell what is in the picture they are pumps with little umbrellas attached. What a novel idea?! It also says, "Just when you thought you had everything." Cute cute.
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| These little eraser shoes were from Susan--this summer for my birthday. |
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| This little picture says, "Wishing You Sweet Essentials" |
This is the latest item in my collection. I had misplaced the plain old tape dispenser I've had for years and I was telling Becky about it. She told me she had seen a tape dispenser I would love and the next thing I knew this was on my desk one morning.
I noticed all of these thoughtful items that have been given to me over the years after I realized that I recently did something that I've never done before. You see, I buy cute shoes--whether they are flip-flops, heels, boots, etc. It doesn't really matter as long as they are cute and they go with something that I have to wear...or I can buy something to wear with them. :) There have been only two styles of cute shoes that I try to avoid--sling backs and ankle straps. I avoid sling backs because they just will NOT stay on my heels and that's annoying. I avoid ankle straps because I inherited my mother's thick ankles and ankle straps don't do anything at all to slim your ankles if you need help in that area. My mother has even said that she wishes I had gotten my Dad's ankles instead of hers. Speaking of my Mom, the last time I was at home she was complaining of her knees hurting and I suggested that she get some SAS shoes. I was jesting, of course. She told me to bite my tongue. Those are fightin' words in our world.
I do own a pair of tennis shoes and, against my better judgment, I have included a picture as proof. The picture below is me--6 months pregnant with Gavin on a little get-away trip to Chicago with Lindy. We walked for miles and my feet were hurting. I think the shoes I was wearing originally were also tennis shoes but they were old and hurting my feet. I found these shoes at Nordstrom Rack, bought them, and threw away the old pair. (Obviously, they weren't that worn out since I didn't ever wear them but had owned them for many years. They just weren't comfortable). My sister-in-law, Cayla, found this picture in one of my Facebook albums and she commented that in spite of my three pregnancies she had seen very few pictures of me pregnant. There's a reason for that. Exhibit A below proves that I'm not one of those cute women who get little basketball bellies. I get pregnant all over. Again, enough said, and if you're also one of those women then you share my pain.
So, what did I do recently that I have never done before? Wait for it...wait for it...(that's what Ethan likes to say). I bought a pair of actual, real-life, comfortable, sensible shoes. I can honestly say I've never done that before. I don't count my tennis shoes as "comfortable" because they really are not. Lindy always gives me a hard time for wearing flip-flops on summer vacation rather than tennis shoes but flip- flops are more comfortable and you can avoid the weird tan lines. It's a win-win. When we go skiing I have my cute pink Columbia snow boots that are really more cute than comfortable.
Buying shoes just for the sake of being comfortable. What a novel idea. What spurred this crazy behavior, you ask? Well, I'm going on another trip to Chicago where there will be much walking involved and I guess when you get to your mid-30s (no debating that, please) you realize that maybe comfortable shoes aren't such a bad idea. Don't worry. I haven't completely gone off the deep end. I did get fancy socks to wear with them. :) Once I'm back from Chicago I'll go back to my preferred shoe attire, but I'm looking forward to no aching feet in the Windy City.
Here they are, the debut of my Eurosteps sensible, comfortable shoes. Don't expect me to make a habit of this and if you ever catch me in a pair of SAS shoes just send me somewhere for a full evaluation.
I will require one.
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