Dinner Conversation

Last night, Hubby was kind enough to cook up a big bowl of spaghetti for dinner. While we were eating, Little Middle was showing off by reciting his ABCs and 123s. To add to his performance, Hubby asked him if he would sing a song. "Sure, Dad" said my 3-year-old, "but I can only sing it under the table." So he left his chair, sat underneath the table, and gave us his best rendition of "Thank God I'm a Country Boy." When the song was over, I asked him to come back to his chair and finish his dinner. There was silence, then his small preschool voice called out (with a slight country twang), "I'm stayin' in this hole, and I'm dyin' in this hole."

Long Time No Blog

You may have noticed it's been a while since my last post. You may even be wondering what's up? Here, in compact form, is an update on the last 3 weeks:

3 weeks ago, Hubby was out of town on business. I woke up, started my day like normal, and felt a shooting pain in my back. It started at my shoulder blade and went all the way down to my waist. In true form, I took 2 Motrin. The pain intensified and started moving around through my rib cage and up toward my heart. I went online and googled "heart attack symptoms." The pain got worse. I called Hubby in tears. He called a friend from church, who showed up at my house within 15 minutes, loaded me and the boys up, and drove us to the hospital.

Long story short, at the end of a 14-hour stay in the ER, the doctors couldn't say what had caused the excruciating pain. They DID say that the scans they had ordered had revealed a ping-pong ball size mass on my left ovary. They wrote a prescription for a painkiller and sent me home with instructions to call my ob-gyn.

The following week I saw my dr. She read over the report, looked at the pictures, and said, "Honey, that's no ping-pong ball. That's a peach." She ordered blood tests to check for "tumor markers" (a frightening term that indicates elevated levels of certain proteins where tumors may be present), and promised to call me with the results.

I waited four days. When she called, she reported that the test results were fairly normal. I breathed a sigh of relief. Then, she went on to say that she would be consulting with a gynecologist-oncologist to get his opinion on whether or not surgery would be necessary. She is familiar with me and the pace at which my life requires me to run, and agreed that if surgery could at all be avoided, we would not do it.

Less than 24 hours later, surgery was being scheduled. The oncologist apparently was of the opinion that something that has grown from nothing to peach-size in less than a year (since my last check-up) should be removed asap. He also advised against further testing or doing a biopsy pre-surgery, on the chance that a needle would puncture the growth and possibly leak cancer cells. Yup. Let's not go there.

That brings me to today. Surgery will be on August 7, and suddenly it seems like every detail of my life points to that date and the recommended six (!!!) weeks of recovery time that follows. Plans are being made for my mother to come and stay. I have had to call my boss and say I may not be there for the beginning of school. I am overwhelmed at the thought of all that needs to be done before then: school shopping, house cleaning, lots of meals in the freezer. I do not know what the future holds. I do not understand why God allows what He does. I do not have a real grasp on what this means for me or my family. Here's what I do know: I serve a God who loves me and is as unsurprised by this as I am taken aback. My God had each and every day of my life mapped out long before I was born. He knows the number of hairs on my head, each thought that I think, and He promises to be with me no matter what. He has a plan, a purpose, for what I am going through, and He only waits to see what I will do with my circumstances. Will I wonder and doubt and question His sovereignty, or will I trust His plan and rest in His arms?

"I will lift up my eyes to the hills--where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth."

Psalm 121:1-2

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FtAjrNqEsoM

Mail

Goliath loves to get mail. Every day he offers to get it from the mailbox, and then shuffles through looking for his name. Well, today is his lucky day! He got his very own mail. And not just any mail...Goliath got a credit card offer! It's irresistable, really. 0% introductory APR. No annual fee. Pick your own payment due date! AND, this particular credit card supports the American Kennel Association. He has the option of having the family beagle to adorn his card. I'd be surprised if he doesn't fill out the application this very afternoon with his special blue Crayola and mail it right back. They'll have to forgive his penmanship, however. He is a phonetic speller and his letters tend to run 3-4" in height. Wonder what kind of a credit limit a kindergartener can get these days?

We Should Adopt Eric Carle

Baby is going through a phase. It has nothing to do with eating or throwing tantrums or wanting Mommy. It is what we refer to as the "Brown Bear Blues." Having brought 2 other little boys through toddlerhood, we should have anticipated it more. But the first time Baby brought Eric Carle's Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? to me, I was caught off guard. I obliged him with the catchy tale of colorful animals, and that's when it started: I handed him the book and he handed it right back to me. Oh, mercy. No matter how many times we read it to him, he brings it back for more. We read Brown Bear at least 10 times a day! We have even enlisted Goliath's help: he can "read" the book and Baby will sit on his lap (cute). There is only one possible diversion that ever works. What is it? Eric Carle's The Very Busy Spider. Sigh.

Car Conversation

Overheard in the car on the way to drop Hubby off at the airport:

Goliath: When I grow up, I am going to have 3 children and I will name them Goliath, Little Middle, and Baby, just like us!

Little Middle: Well, when I grow up, I am going to have 6 children, and I will name them all Hot Dog!

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

If you live in the DFW area, you know it has been raining here for a long time. Like, 11 days. The clouds finally broke on Thursday afternoon, and it was sunny most of the day yesterday. I am all for bad weather, don't get me wrong. Clouds, thunder, and rain make for a very cozy day...IF you don't have 3 little people running around. The first couple of weeks of summer vacation have not been too fun. So, yesterday, on the first sunny day in nearly two weeks, I was inspired to really have fun with the boys. We pulled the old tent out of the garage and set it up in the backyard. The boys stocked it with pillows, blankets, and flashlights, and we were set for a campout! After Baby went to bed, Goliath, Little Middle, and I settled down in the tent to watch Toy Story on the portable DVD player. We were snuggled up and I reveled in that sweet time with my two older kids. I kissed them goodnight, assured them there were no witches or monsters living in our backyard, and fell asleep on my air mattress (I'm too old and snobby to sleep on the ground if I don't have to). At 11:30, I woke up to the wind howling and the sound of thunder. Just when I was wondering if I should wake the boys so we could go inside, it started to POUR down rain. Luckily, we had had the foresight to put the rain tarp over the tent, but STILL....The storm lasted about an hour, and only Little Middle woke up briefly. When the rain was down to a patter, I managed to fall back asleep, only to be woken again at 3 a.m. by another storm. This time, Little Middle wanted to sleep with me, so we hunkered down on the twin-sized air mattress. Goliath never moved, but woke us up at 6:30. He was absolutely cheerful about our adventure, and clueless about what had really gone on during the long night. Needless to say, I sought shelter in my warm, dry bed and slept until 9:00. I think I will look for other, less sleep-depriving ways to be a Fun Mom.

P.S. This picture was from last week, when we were on Day 6 of rain. Goliath and Little Middle had had enough inside, so we gave in and let them play outside in spite of the weather!

End of the Chapter

First, I must apologize because this post is a backtrack. I have wanted to write about Goliath's graduation from preschool, but it's been nearly 2 weeks since it happened. Part of me is sad and I feel like maybe if I don't write about it, it won't be true; and part of me wanted a picture to go with the post and I can never download them off the camera. I've been waiting for help.

So...two weeks ago a sweet chapter of Goliath's life book came to a close. He has attended preschool since he was 20 months old. This past year has been so much fun to watch him truly blossom socially, mentally, and spiritually. During the graduation ceremony I was thinking about how much he has changed in the past year. It doesn't seem that long ago that I was feeling unconcerned, like I had plenty of time left with him at home. Watching him march in with the other 5-year-olds to receive his preschool "diploma," however, I was panicky...this is IT, and come September, our lives will never be the same. Then, those precious little ones sang a song about how much God loves them. I was in tears (of course), but quietly reassured because I know that my baby will go to kindergarten knowing that he is loved. Loved by his mom and dad, but more importantly...he is loved by God.

He received a Bible of his very own as a graduation gift. He has been very interested in looking at the pictures and reading stories. I pray that as a new chapter of Goliath's life unfolds, he will learn the truths in that book and claim them for his own.

He is an amazing blessing to us, and we are PROUD
parents!