Well, Hello. I'm Thankful Times Two.

OK,soooo I've taken a few years off. Super sorry. I'm plugging back in.. today. Hopefully you'll see me again before another two years goes by. I like to write when I need to process stuff. Well, in the past 24 hours.. I need to process. Lucky you (lol). I drove by a wreck yesterday. A bad one. However, I had no idea how bad at the time. I passed the wreck probably three minutes after it happened. Before the police had gotten there, but after the people involved were able to get out of their cars and assess. When I passed it, it looked fairly significant. Not your average fender bender. However, there were several people just standing around emotionless. No chaos. No crying, no pacing, no one on their phones. Just people standing around. When I learned about an hour later that someone had DIED in that accident, I was stunned. A 17 year old boy lost control of his car, crossed the median on the highway and hit a pick-up truck head on. He was a football player and an active member in his high school theater group. I simply cannot get it out of my mind. No one was there WITH him. No one was NEXT to him. No one was praying with him. No one was freaking out. No one was crying. No one was on their knees, begging God.. please don't take this young life. No one was trying to get him out of the car.. somehow, someway to save him. I keep telling myself they were in shock. They had no idea how to react. They probably saw his lifeless body and just knew it wasn't good, that he was gone. Dear God.. what if that were my child. No one was doing ANYTHING!! Lord, please let me react with more urgency if ever faced in this situation. Lord, please let others act with more urgency if it's me or someone I love in need of help. Lord, please give me peace that these people were doing everything humanly possible prior to my arrival to help this young man. Please give me peace that there was someone who I didn't see trying to save this boy. Please give me peace that angels were carrying him so beautifully to meet you and take him to his eternal home. I totally and completely understand that when faced with a life threatening situation, only a small percentage of the population actually knows how to react appropriately. It's studied, documented and we've seen it time and time again in horrific situations. I'm guessing I would not fall within that small percentage if faced with a similar scene. I'm not trying to point fingers or blame anyone for their lack of response.. I'm just trying to process it. To understand. To beg God that I would know how to react and that others would know how to react if it were my son or daughter. So, there's that. And that's big. Not five minutes after the accident, I saw something else which just hit me hard. It was a cold, rainy, dreary day yesterday which I'm sure played some part in the accident (perhaps he hydroplaned?). I saw a boy, probably 10 or 11 years old walking in the rain, with his white cane. Clearly visually impaired. The boy had a helper with him.. a man walking a step behind. I'm assuming the boy was going through some type of training as it appeared the helper had some sort of a hospital/laboratory/official-type badge on. Boom. What. I can't process all of this. Seriously. I don't know why I am struggling with all of this. Am I reasonable in this mental freak out? I think these daily November "grateful" FB posts are really messing with me. I don't do them, but I read each one and they really make me stop and think. After seeing this wreck, then seeing this young visually impaired boy walking in the cold rain.. I have so much to be thankful for it's mind blowing. There are no words. Grateful times infinity.. and then some. Google gratefulness. What makes me sick though is how much I take for granted. I blow through my day expecting my eyes, my arms, my legs, my body to work perfectly without any sort of pain or discomfort. Never thinking twice about it. I assume when I drive some place I will get there safely, in one piece. I rarely ever think otherwise. I totally acknowledge the fact that you cannot live your life in fear.. in wonder.. in 'what if' land. That's no way to live. SoOOoo not healthy. But, geez.. is there some sort of happy medium? When someone puts on their FB page all of the mundane things they are grateful for, I kinda do an internal eye roll. I hate admitting that. How awesome that someone can simply be thankful for the simple things. I mean super simple. Like my fingers having the ability to type right now. There are people with neuropathy right now who no longer have fine motor skills like the ability to type. THANK YOU LORD FOR MY FINGERS WORKING PROPERLY! Can you imagine if I put that as a FB update.. "Today I am thankful for healthy hands and fast typing fingers." That would be some update! I'm sure it would get a fair amount of head scratching as well. In honor of these two events that really rocked my world yesterday, I am going to do two good deeds every single day from now until Christmas. I realize it doesn't sound like a big deal to do two good deeds each day but I can tell you right now, it's more than I'm doing currently!! I may never make sense out of what I witnessed yesterday (regarding the wreck/lack of freak out mode), I suppose that time will pass and I will slowly forget. Maybe I'm lucky that way? For the family of the young man who died, the pain will never go away. The yearning to see their son again. The pleading with God to wake up from their worst nightmare. For those actually involved in the accident, I know they too will never forget. The images of the young man they saw trapped in the car that horrible cold, rainy Tuesday. I know it will haunt them forever. I know they will play it over and over in their minds.. wondering if there was anything they could've done differently to have prevented the outcome. The young boy I saw with the white walking cane.. what a mixed bag. As a parent, I'm sure the pride and excitement they must feel that their child is learning independence. But on the other hand, the pain that goes along with it.. their child will always struggle. Life will never be easy for him. He will never get to experience so much that can only be done through sight. As a result, I'm trying to focus on my own personal "thankfulness tank". I look at these two events and think.. that could be me, my family, my kids. Thank you Lord for this day. I know and accept that everything could change in an instant and I ask for you to hold me tight when/if it does. Please Lord send angels to comfort those who need you most right now. Take my angels as backup if needed. Thank you Lord for helping me to intentionally serve others in honor of these two boys yesterday that have impacted me so greatly. Two random acts of kindness daily in honor of two boys. Hello and goodbye after two years. Thankful times two.. and then some, like a bunch.

Average Jane

You ever feel like you are stuck. Like you're just average. I hate that feeling.

Who wants to be average? Who wants to just exist? I want to make an impact.. but with what? Doing what?

Amazing people are all around me.. running their own businesses, rockin' up the corporate ladder, being asked to be involved with super cool leadership projects, creating beautiful works of art.. the list goes on and on. Right now, I got nothin'.

I hate complaining about my job because I am the luckiest gal in the world when it comes to jobs. I am in medical-type sales. I have great products. I believe in what I do. But sometimes.. a lot of times.. it's not enough. It's the same song and dance every day. And let's just get really real here. Sometimes.. I don't want to be perky! And I'm one of the perkiest people I know!

The other problem.. I need to be busy. I need to be in a fast-paced, high pressure environment. Some days are like that. But mostly.. you just cruise from office to office hoping someone will throw you a bone. So desperate.

I have three beautiful, amazing, healthy children. When you raise kids, clearly you are impacting society. I take that responsibility very seriously. I totally get its importance. But.. I feel like I need something more immediate. With your kids.. you don't REALLY know whether you've screwed up until they're older.

I want to put my stamp on something. There's nothing better than the feeling, "Wow. I did that. Thank you Lord."

It's difficult to pray for something like this.. because you don't want to appear ungrateful for all He has given you (especially when it's WAAAYYY too much). But on the other hand, I can't ignore this feeling. I want to experience His peace and joy. And right now.. that is soo not happening. I am wondering why this discontentment. Is He preparing me for something? Is He teaching me something? The waiting game.

Will I find it, will it find me? What is it? Is it nothing? Is it a phase? Do I settle for average? Or strive for more?

Time will tell, I suppose. In the meantime, this very average person is going to go have a very fantastic cup of tea.

For The Love

Well.. to make a long story short, I'm back. I miss writing. I miss the attempt at being creative. So here we go again.

I was at a totally and completely different place when I blogged last. I stayed home. I had three, sometimes four preschoolers. Life was certifiably insane. Now, I work full-time. My kids are 6, 4 and 2. And we have a nanny. Things are much more manageable now.. comparatively speaking of course.

I can't change the name of the blog.. The Colic Diaries. It's just part of our roots.. where this thing started. But the focus will not be the same. This blog is more for me. About me.. our family.. what we're up to.

So.. welcome back!!

Mr. Particular

My son, Brooks, is two-years-old. I realize that two-year-old's can be quite difficult. A little moody. Perhaps even grumpy. Quite demanding. And even bossy from time to time. But my little Brooks is unlike any child I have ever met.

He is super particular. For starters, he can't stand to wear underwear. He says they make him cold. But when he's does where underwear (which is rare), he is sure to inform us that his penis always has to go in the pocket of his 'big boy pants'. Due to the fact that he is not a fan of undergarments, he prefers to wear sweat pants on a daily basis. He says they're soft. And, for some reason, he loves button down shirts. Oh, and he insists on wearing hiking boots that are about three sizes too big. The shoes look bigger than his legs. So I hid the shoes in his sisters closet. The one time I hid them in his closet.. he found them. There you have it. Picture a cute little two-year-old with sweat pants, button down shirt, and hiking boots that are entirely too big.

The other thing he's particular about - going to the bathroom. He has to roll up his sleeves to do it. I'm not exactly sure why. But, he will not 'go' unless his sleeves are rolled up. He also has to have the light on, even during the day when the sun is so bright you can't even tell the light is on. It doesn't matter. The light must be on.

He's also a little particular in the food department. He will eat broccoli, just not the top of the broccoli, only the 'bottom', as he calls it. He also has to open his own string cheese packet or you can forget it. And if you give him water - watch out. There's gotta be ice in it.

He makes up for his quirky ways by making me laugh harder than just about anyone, on a regular basis. The things he says, the way he says it, the sweet smile he gives makes my heart melt. He also loves to snuggle and will not fall asleep most nights until I cuddle up with him. "Wanna get unda da covers?" He says. Love it. Love him.

A Sick Baby and A Crazy Lady

My sweet little Fussy Pants has every right to be fussy.

The poor baby is getting her two front teeth, she has a bad cough, the doctor says her throat is raw, her nose is running, she's dehydrated and she has an ear infection. Oh, and she's just getting over the stomach flu. I'd say she's sick.

Presley woke up around 2:30 a.m. this morning to nurse. When I was done, I just couldn't get back to sleep. I was tossing and turning thinking about how bad I feel for putting her in situations and places that exposed her to such dreadful illnesses. Ok, it's not like I put her in the middle of a hospital waiting room and let her lick the floor or anything.. but she has been to a few nurseries where not every child in there is the poster child of good health.

I just laid there thinking.. we are not leaving our house for two weeks. For two weeks we are locked inside. Sure, we'll miss out on a ton of fun stuff.. but my poor child does not need to be exposed to one more germ! She was, after all, in the NICU for ten days. Her poor little body cannot handle it! She might have to be admitted to the hospital, or worse air flighted to Children's Mercy. I mean, she is really sick. I just laid there thinking these terrible things. I even woke up Craig telling him he must stay home from work today because we are going to have to be at the doctor first thing and I just don't know what will happen next so he needs to be home to care for our other children. I think he just fell right back to sleep.

After it was obvious he had little care and concern for the well-being of his precious little ten month old, I got up and checked the humidifier in her room. It was fine... but I still added some more water to it, just in case. I prayed over her tired little body sleeping so soundly in her crib.

I went back to bed, laid there some more.. all the while thinking about how I needed to get sleep because if I'm tired and run down, then my body will be susceptible to illness and I couldn't be sick for my little girl!

I just kept praying, dear Lord.. please let me sleep. If I don't sleep I know I'll get sick, my milk supply will run out.. and then Presley will get even more sick because she will not have the extra line of defense from her mother's milk. Come on God, knock me out.

I wonder what God was thinking during my little freak out episode. Chill out lady, I've got it covered. Have a little faith, would ya? I've healed a lot sicker peeps.. remember that dude with leprosy in the Bible? He was fine. Trust me.

I did end up going to sleep. I tried to think about something totally brainless.. I actually started thinking about that wack-job governor from Illinois and that did the trick. I think I was out in about 30 seconds.

This morning when I woke up, I was not quite as dramatic. I knew that Presley needed to get to the doctor. But I did realize it wasn't life or death. She wasn't gasping for air or anything. I did, however, force myself to drink an entire quart of Mother's Milk tea in about 20 minutes. Gag. Needless to say, I've been running to the bathroom quite a bit today.

Presley's on her first anti-biotic now. She's had some Tylenol. I'll think we'll make it through this one. But how I will ever survive the next 21 years with three children is beyond me. God, get ready.

Two wrecks in two weeks

I ran into the side of my house today.  I was whipping around the driveway and all of a sudden, I heard 'that sound'.  The sound that makes you think, 'did I just hit something?'  

You get out, assess the damage, prepare yourself for the worst, but hope for the best.  Trying to tell yourself, 'it's really not THAT bad.'  When you know deep down, it's bad.

The bright spot to this evening's little 'run in' is that the side of my car that I damaged is already damaged.  You see, I had another little 'incident' about a week ago.  

It was a dark, rainy morning (6:34 a.m. to be exact).  I had to hurry into Walmart to buy a birthday gift.  I was once again, whipping my little mini-van into a parking spot and I heard 'the sound'.  

I got out, checked my car.. didn't see anything at first and thought, 'oh thank you Jesus.'  Then my eyes moved a little further down my car and there it was.  A dent far greater than I ever could've imagined.  It started at the sliding passenger door and extended all the way to the bumper.  Wow.  'Is this a dream,' I thought.  This can't really be happening to me.

When you hit a parked car, several things go through your mind.  First, did anyone see me.  Can I get away with this.  Second, are there surveillance cameras.  Third, if I leave a note, maybe I'll write my name and number really poorly, maybe even with my left hand, so they can't read what it says.  That way my guilty conscience will feel better that I left a note.. and yet they'll never be able to contact me.  

Then, I heard Him.  You guessed it.  God.  He decided to speak to me clear as day.  It came right at the moment that I was about to pull away.  Leave a note, He told me.  Tell them your sorry.  Write your name and number.  

Man, why is it when I really NEED the Lord to speak to me, I can't always hear him.  Or I question whether it's REALLY Him.  And when I don't WANT to hear him, His voice couldn't be louder.  Seriously God.  I do not want to do this.  'No, no, no,' I thought.

So I did what He said.  I even left my information on the back of coupon for an oil change.  A nice gesture I thought.

When I got home from my Walmart wreck, I was a mess.  I went into the living room, sat on the couch and cried.  I did not go near my phone.  I think I even turned it on silence so I couldn't hear it.  I had no interest in talking to the driver of the other car.

A little later, I mustered up the courage to check my phone.   I had a text message.  This is the exact text, "It's ok.  Just an old beater work truck.  Thanx 4 leavin a note."  Ok, what?!  Seriously?!  If you don't believe me, it's still saved on my phone.  Hello, Lord?  Was that YOUR truck I hit?

So fortunately, I have not had the time to get my car fixed.  Therefore the new dent just blends right in with the 'old' one.  

I'm not quite sure what God wanted me to learn from hitting the side of my house tonight.  Other than stop trying to whip around in a mini-van.  When I told my husband about it on the phone, there was a deafening silence.  I thought he hung up on me.  Then he laughed a little.  And so did I. 

Hold Me!

Right after Piper was born, I remember reading something that stated, 'babies like to be held a lot.' So, I did (with Piper and Brooks).. and I do (with Presley). But is it possible that you can hold your child too much?

If Presley sees me.. any kind of glimpse of me.. if she hears me.. anything related to me.. and I'm NOT holding her.. wow. Watch out. It is a scream fest. For example, I could be gone for an hour.. Presley is happy as a clam. The second I return home --- Presley starts screaming her head off. What is up with that??!!

I love holding her.. really I do. But there are times when frankly it's just not possible. I find myself sneaking from room to room sometimes.. or whispering so she can't hear me. It never works. Ever.

I am toying with the idea of wearing a mask around. Especially when I am trying to make dinner. That's when she gets really ticked off if I don't hold her. I frequently have to put her in the backpack to console her. She will probably know how to cook spaghetti perfectly by 18 months.

Craig tells me to let her cry. Some of my friends tell me to let her cry. But how?! It sends me completely over the edge. The one time I DID let her cry.. I walked over to her a few minutes later and she cut her hand. I felt like the worst mommy ever.

She is 9 1/2 months and she is still not crawling. It's probably because I hold her all of the time. I keep telling myself, crawling is not a milestone, so it's fine. But is that healthy? Am I just kidding myself? Probably.

She is sitting in the exersaucer not three feet from me right now.. crying.. or more like screaming. It's time to make dinner. We are indeed having spaghetti. Better get the backpack.