Enjoy the ride
My mom sent me a card this morning
and she had written
"enjoy the ride, not the walk".
It made me smile.
Mentally resetting my mind
every day is getting to be a habit,
and I think with these little people around me,
it helps to put things into perspective.
Enjoying the ride,
still not easy for me
as I want to constantly delegate
and stretch what little
independence
I have right now.
This too shall pass
and I need to digest
all of the quiet moments that I have.
There are a lot of quiet moments,
a lot of times,
more than I would like.
I love the noise of children,
the harsh, repetitive bangs of toy,
the clopping of Eden in kitten heels,
and even the irritated yells of Eden or Micah
as one is bothering the other.
When I don't hear it,
I miss it,
and I long for those noises to fill my ears.
Enjoying the ride
has also meant letting go.
Trusting my kids to learn
to make decisions for themselves
and to not interfere with every little move.
Letting them be kids and having fun doing it,
I guess is what I'm trying to describe.
At times,
I'm like a hovercraft over them,
guiding them and in my perspective helping, but I'm not.
It's funny how just sitting
in a chair in the sun
has made me admire
Micah's chubby cheeks more
or the way that his hair curls in the humidity.
It's like I'm learning
my children from a different perspective.
From a distance,
as in a calm (unable to meddle) mom,
but so close that I see it all
and can laugh and cry
with them every step of the way.
So again, today,
I reset my mind
and focus on enjoying the ride.
It's calm right now
and so easy when I think
about the expectations that are upon me,
they're nothing.
This is beauty though,
and I just need to wallow in it.
Everyday Joy
Proverbs 17:22 A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.
I feel like taking that verse very literal right now, as this whole not walking thing is getting old fast. Everyday I've been so great about mentally guarding my heart and mind, not letting negative thoughts and defeat come near, until today. I let them come.
It's like restarting your mind everyday when every morning getting dressed takes so much effort and little silly chores make me sweat buckets because of the extra effort.
I have no business letting my mind go there because
I'm beyond blessed.
Blessed, because I have two children who are darling beyond words and have their health.
Blessed, because I have a husband that is beyond amazing.
Blessed, because I've missed nothing and am making beautiful memories everyday.
And not to mention the weather, for real Wisconsin?
Like I said, blessed.
A few days ago...
...I scratched out these thoughts on paper while sitting in the sun:
"The sun is so healing", that's what I kept reminding myself as I laid in bed from nine to noon today. My pain was so intense, I was just laying there, occasionally glancing at the window and gauging the wind by the movement of the tree tops across the street. The pain meds the doctor gave me have pretty much shut down my digestive system, thus, at this point, I'm dealing with the pain. I decided I couldn't take it anymore and took some meds, telling myself that the "sun is so healing".
I grabbed two books from my stash next to my bed and tucked them in the waistband of my yoga pants. I only made it successfully down the stairs with the one book and had to climb more than half way up to retrieve the other.
I got outside to our back patio, sat, propped my foot up and closed my eyes. "The sun is so healing." I just sat there, feeling the warmth of the sun. I've decided it's one of my favorite things.
My mind began to think and process my two hardest trials in this whole surgery and recovery process: how Eden and Micah are dealing.
When I first crutched in the door last Thursday, Eden saw me and her little chin dimpled followed by her lip quivering. I was prepared for this, and expected that sort of reaction from her. What I didn't expect, was that five days later, I still hadn't held her, she still hadn't even sat on my lap. My heart, which is prayerfully guarded, began to hurt. I intentionally focused my thoughts on Micah and how he's come up with his own way of dealing.
Sunday afternoon, Micah began crying when Mike would put him down and we noticed he wouldn't walk. He would quickly lift his foot up off the ground and then all together refused to walk and would only crawl. Mike and I decided if symptoms like this continued, he'd have to take him in. We kept checking to see if he had any bruising or marks and racking our brains of when he could've gotten hurt. As we discussed, Micah got up and walked to the window. then he walked to get a toy and continued on until he reached the kitchen. Mike and I stared at each other with our mouths open. Seriously? He was totally fine, and we quickly thanked God for answering our prayers, thankful that our little boy was fine.
My writings from outside stopped there, interrupted by my little girl staring at me from the other side of the patio door. It was nap time and she had escaped, but I could tell by the expression on her face that she was doubting her decision of being in her room versus being with me. My arms ached for her and I beckoned her to come to me. She was so hesitant. But she came.
She walked slowly to me and reached up her arms for me to hold her. I cried, of course. I sat there, holding her, and remembering how wonderful this feeling was, and promising myself that I'd never take this for granted. It only lasted a few minutes, but it was precious and so dear to me.
Both kids have been fine ever since, a few days ago.
"The sun is so healing", that's what I kept reminding myself as I laid in bed from nine to noon today. My pain was so intense, I was just laying there, occasionally glancing at the window and gauging the wind by the movement of the tree tops across the street. The pain meds the doctor gave me have pretty much shut down my digestive system, thus, at this point, I'm dealing with the pain. I decided I couldn't take it anymore and took some meds, telling myself that the "sun is so healing".
I grabbed two books from my stash next to my bed and tucked them in the waistband of my yoga pants. I only made it successfully down the stairs with the one book and had to climb more than half way up to retrieve the other.
I got outside to our back patio, sat, propped my foot up and closed my eyes. "The sun is so healing." I just sat there, feeling the warmth of the sun. I've decided it's one of my favorite things.
My mind began to think and process my two hardest trials in this whole surgery and recovery process: how Eden and Micah are dealing.
When I first crutched in the door last Thursday, Eden saw me and her little chin dimpled followed by her lip quivering. I was prepared for this, and expected that sort of reaction from her. What I didn't expect, was that five days later, I still hadn't held her, she still hadn't even sat on my lap. My heart, which is prayerfully guarded, began to hurt. I intentionally focused my thoughts on Micah and how he's come up with his own way of dealing.
Sunday afternoon, Micah began crying when Mike would put him down and we noticed he wouldn't walk. He would quickly lift his foot up off the ground and then all together refused to walk and would only crawl. Mike and I decided if symptoms like this continued, he'd have to take him in. We kept checking to see if he had any bruising or marks and racking our brains of when he could've gotten hurt. As we discussed, Micah got up and walked to the window. then he walked to get a toy and continued on until he reached the kitchen. Mike and I stared at each other with our mouths open. Seriously? He was totally fine, and we quickly thanked God for answering our prayers, thankful that our little boy was fine.
My writings from outside stopped there, interrupted by my little girl staring at me from the other side of the patio door. It was nap time and she had escaped, but I could tell by the expression on her face that she was doubting her decision of being in her room versus being with me. My arms ached for her and I beckoned her to come to me. She was so hesitant. But she came.
She walked slowly to me and reached up her arms for me to hold her. I cried, of course. I sat there, holding her, and remembering how wonderful this feeling was, and promising myself that I'd never take this for granted. It only lasted a few minutes, but it was precious and so dear to me.
Both kids have been fine ever since, a few days ago.
Things I'll never take for granted
I wish I could post pictures today, but that would entail going downstairs and getting the camera... it's not gonna happen. Moving around seems hard, and painful. The past two days seem long and short at the same time. Long because it's such an effort to get around and short because I'm cherishing our family time and I don't ever want that part to end. Mike's doing everything, which is amazing, and I'm actually enjoying letting him.
To the point though, things I'll never take for granted (once I'm mobile again):
*getting my own cup of coffee- think about it, crutches and coffee, yeah, doesn't happen
*taking a shower- sort of impossible and I kept thinking I was going to fall and die from a gaping head wound
*taking my pants on and off
*carrying things from room to room
*stairs
Silly little things I took for granted three days ago.
To the point though, things I'll never take for granted (once I'm mobile again):
*getting my own cup of coffee- think about it, crutches and coffee, yeah, doesn't happen
*taking a shower- sort of impossible and I kept thinking I was going to fall and die from a gaping head wound
*taking my pants on and off
*carrying things from room to room
*stairs
Silly little things I took for granted three days ago.
Holy hugeness
The surgery is over. Whew! Relieved would be a huge understatement.
It's pretty nasty what they did, so I won't get into it. Think bone drilling, screws, and a cadaver tendon.
I have the biggest splint on my foot that you've ever seen, and right now I'm mentally exhausted. I think I slept a total of twenty minutes last night. Not a back sleeper, at all, thus the twenty minutes.
Mike's been a rock. Don't know what I'd do without him.
My little artists made me paper flowers. Treasure.
Staying In
This is what Eden and I did last week.
Instead of yelling at her to not jump off the furniture, I was coaching her on how to jump off the furniture.
I know, I know, talk about inconsistent parenting.
We actually had a blast though, if you can't tell.
I told her, "Say 1, 2, 3, Jump! and then jump." And she would say"1, 2, 3, Shout!"
Maybe I was putting more emphasis into it than I needed to.
We do have fun. Jumping off furniture, mixing music on a kitty keyboard, you name it.
Ready
In 48 hours, this ankle surgery will be over with. That's a relief just to think about, but I'm ready. I know this might sound silly, but I let Jesus guide my day today and it was perfect:
Micah woke up kinda sick, so I called a friend about a play date (Note to self: I don't like that word) we were supposed to have with intentions to cancel to not get them sick. We ended up still getting together and it was perfect. Seriously. My heart's been stressed and I just needed a friend today.
We got a letter in the mail today from the Compassion worker who works with our little girl we sponsor. The last couple lines said, "Don't be afraid, our God is bigger than anything." Talk about crazy cool, I needed that too.
The kids and I went to a visitation for someone who passed away. It was a great opportunity to talk with Eden about Jesus (what isn't) but more than that I realized that I need to tell people how much they mean to me. Why wait? Why withhold a blessing? (If you're on the positive end of what I think).
Tonight, I shopped. By myself. Perfect...except I was in a crazy amount of pain. It was good though, because it made me feel ready. I feel so physically wiped out, like I've done project after project around here and I'm just plain worn out and worn thin. So, I'm ready.
After I got home from my short because of the pain shopping escapade, I started gathering all of the stuff around the house that I always want to do. Books I've been wanting to read, magazines that I don't have the time for, smash book supplies that I promised myself I would use, recycled silk yarn and a mini loom, I could go on. It's like the most wonderful stash of little artsy stuff you can imagine, and looks like eye candy all in a discombobulated mess. So, right now as I look to my right of my bed, I have piles of fun. Stuff I'm excited for and to accomplish, and just plain ready. Too bad I have a day of cleaning ahead of me tomorrow before my break begins.
Micah woke up kinda sick, so I called a friend about a play date (Note to self: I don't like that word) we were supposed to have with intentions to cancel to not get them sick. We ended up still getting together and it was perfect. Seriously. My heart's been stressed and I just needed a friend today.
We got a letter in the mail today from the Compassion worker who works with our little girl we sponsor. The last couple lines said, "Don't be afraid, our God is bigger than anything." Talk about crazy cool, I needed that too.
The kids and I went to a visitation for someone who passed away. It was a great opportunity to talk with Eden about Jesus (what isn't) but more than that I realized that I need to tell people how much they mean to me. Why wait? Why withhold a blessing? (If you're on the positive end of what I think).
Tonight, I shopped. By myself. Perfect...except I was in a crazy amount of pain. It was good though, because it made me feel ready. I feel so physically wiped out, like I've done project after project around here and I'm just plain worn out and worn thin. So, I'm ready.
After I got home from my short because of the pain shopping escapade, I started gathering all of the stuff around the house that I always want to do. Books I've been wanting to read, magazines that I don't have the time for, smash book supplies that I promised myself I would use, recycled silk yarn and a mini loom, I could go on. It's like the most wonderful stash of little artsy stuff you can imagine, and looks like eye candy all in a discombobulated mess. So, right now as I look to my right of my bed, I have piles of fun. Stuff I'm excited for and to accomplish, and just plain ready. Too bad I have a day of cleaning ahead of me tomorrow before my break begins.
