Reformed Grits

He owns the cattle… Part two…
September 29, 2008, 7:57 pm
Filed under: Life

I've been watching a little of what's been going on in the news with the financial world.  You would be correct if you recalled that I can't watch the news because I freak out and that I also hate money.  I watch what is going on and I really don't understand how it is going to translate in to everyday life.  I'm not good that way and because I hate conflict, I am a 1 issue voter so it really doesn't make a difference, economically speaking, who I think should be elected.  (The issue, by the way, is abortion.) 
All of the frenzy.  All of the instability.  All of the chaos. 
I'm not unaffected but honestly all I can think is of that song I mentioned.  I'm thankful that we don't carry debt, other than a manageable house payment.  I wish we had more cash in the bank should hard times come, not that our bank is "our" bank anymore– yes, I know, er, think our money is safe there.
All I can think of is

He owns the cattle on a thousand hills,
I know that He will care for me…

Granted my husband has his job and we still have our house.  If times should get tough, I hope we will remind ourselves of the fact that this is not our home and it's all gonna burn.  We are just passin' through and this short span on earth is but a short time where we can glorify our Maker through stewardship, service, and love. 
And you can take that to the bank. 


In the morning…
September 27, 2008, 11:09 pm
Filed under: Cute kids stuff

10 years ago tomorrow I gave birth to a 9 lb 9 oz baby boy, my 3rd-born child, JD. 

It sounds so simple and tidy when you put it like that, doesn't it. 

I'd tell you the whole story, but it's long and depressing so I'll just sum it up for you:  everything surrounding his birth, before and after, was not simple.  During my pregnancy with him I was extremely depressed.   Like, certifiable.  And I didn't know what was wrong with me– I just thought life was that bad.  I never slept until about 3 or 4 AM even though I was exhausted, and no meds I was given worked for me.   It was so hopeless feeling. 
JD was 12 days late.  I honestly in my insanity, had truly convinced myself that I would be pregnant forever.  I was miserable.  Everything hurt. 
When I finally did go in to labor with him and got to the hospital, they wouldn't give me my epidural until I was already 9 cm.  That is to say, at 9 cm they called for it.  And the first one didn't work and they had to completely do another one.  Strangely I had TIME for all these epidurals because he refused to come down, even after I was 10 cm.   Have I mentioned I'm a wuss?  I don't like pain and freak out when it comes.  Why would they not give me an epidural just because he was high?  Huh?  That makes no sense?  Why?  Why?  WHY?  I screamed at the top of my lungs, calling out for the doctor to HELP ME.  I was totally out of control, for probably about 4 of the 10 or so hours I was in labor.  I cried and screamed and begged my poor husband to help me.  Or kill me.  I didn't care.  I honestly felt very traumatized.  I know:  I'm admittedly a wuss.  I already confessed that.
And then he was born.  He was enormous.  Have you met me?  I'm like 5'3" and, well, I weigh what I weighed in high school– I'm not big.  I was tore up one side and cut up the other.  My doctor's words when he saw JD's head come out were, "This kid has more chins than a Chinese phone book!" 
One more "bad thing" was that when he was 5 weeks old, I got mastitis… and then meningitis.  Two of the three most painful things you could ever get (and I got the 3rd a few years later:  kidney stones.)  I had this (relatively) tiny baby that I had to leave with my in-laws as I sat in a hospital-pumping and dumping– doped up on every kind of painkiller, antibiotic, and even anti-fungals known to man.  (They couldn't tell what kind of meningitis I had.)  Did I mention it was horribly terribly painful?  Worse than kidney stones, I'm thinking, because it's in your head and you can't move and it's horrible.  And you have to have spinal taps.  And MRI's and stuff.  I think– I can't remember.  Did I mention I hate pain?  I'm kind of a baby.  Ok, I know; I said that already.  I feel the need to go suck my thumb after talking about all this. 

But if all that is what it takes to get my JD, I'd SO do it twice or thrice again.  That baby– oh sweet mercy.  He was so lovey and squishy and cuddly and delicious.  Oh my word, he was nummy and wonderful.  A delight and a joy.  He is very different from his brothers– more of a creative type personality.  A people person.  An early talker… and has not stopped.  He is sensitive to what others are thinking and feeling.  His vivid imagination outstripped his maturity when he was younger, making for nightmares, fears of being separated from his parents by death, and night terrors.  (shiver) 

Our JD is at the cusp of being a tweenager– no longer a little boy, but not yet a teen.  I'm so very grateful for him and his yummyness.  He is still lovey and intuitive.  Painful things have hurt him deeply– the loss of a big friend who babied him when he was little; the death of the baby he loved and planned and prayed for; the cancer of the mom of a friend– but I pray that as he matures God uses these things in his life not to make him hard, but to make him even more tender.  He's a very special child, my JD. 

God has some great and amazing plans for you, my child.  Nothing about you has ever been simple or tidy.  Sorrows endure but for the night, but JOY comes in the morning.  Bless you, my squishy lovey son!  And happy, happy birthday.

I’m spent…
September 22, 2008, 8:24 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Just copying and pasting with a few revisions what I emailed to my cousin tonight about our day:

Jojo didn’t go to
school.  He is still hurting.  His daddy was so upset for him he stayed home from
work with him.  We took him to his ortho today who said he’s to be in a long
cast (almost up to his armpit) for 6-8 weeks.   He told him he can do nothing
but books and sitting and staring… for 6-8 weeks.  Jojo is really down over
it all.  He can’t even hold his Wii remote in his hand!  The dr said that if he
were to re-injure it which would be VERY easy considering his original breaks,
he’d be in the bed for 4 weeks with an external device (think a halo for the
arm) doing nothing.  That, or he could be doing something, fall and injure the
opposite arm and “his daddy would have to follow him to school with a roll of
toilet paper!”  Yikes.  He has a list of close to 100 things he can’t do,
including walk a dog or ride in a golf cart!  It was very thorough.  

My poor boy is so down.  My hubby and I are totally emotionally spent.  I know kids break their arms every day.  We've even had a break with one of the other kids before.  Why do I feel like I've been hit by a train?  I can't even think straight. 

Pinnacle of Tacky!
September 22, 2008, 8:47 am
Filed under: Travel

Ok so you guys know that I'm weird about mixing American symbols in my religious beliefs, as you may remember.  (Will we ever recover?  Can I just re-iterate that I love my country and we do sing patriotic songs at home and school and I'm grateful for our military and boy do I appreciate my right to bear arms!  There's no place like the US and I say the pledge and I'm grateful for the freedoms we have.  Not only that but I love our church and the music and the people and everybody and when Sam shared his testimony about his work as a Ranger I was in tears and thought it was wonderful and appropriate… (breathing now….) Ok, so anyway…) 

I thought of you all as soon as I saw this in Memphis.  I was driving around looking for a 24 hour pharmacy to get pain meds for my son and that monstrosity was lit up like the 4th of July (pun intended) and I was immediately drawn to it… like a horrific car crash.  I wanted to go back and get a picture of it, but at the time someone had taken all our stuff to their hotel after I just dropped it all and ran to the hospital, and my camera was with it.  Drat.  So this picture by fearlessvk on flickr will have to do.  (Don't know this person; just giving props.) 

Anyhow.  I just… I… I… have no words.  It's just so tacky.  Tacky, tacky, tacky.  No wonder non-believers think Christians are idiots.  They think that "we" think this is "preaching the gospel" or worse yet, God forbid,  art. 

$250,000, my friends.  Wow.  Just had to share. 

Them’s the breaks….
September 21, 2008, 8:28 pm
Filed under: Family, Life, Soccer IS life!

Well… the weekend didn't go like we planned…

We enjoyed the stay with our wonderful host family– God bless you, A&G, for your hospitality and for caring for me and the boy.  But it was cut short and that's a shame…

The first game Saturday was a blood-bath.  It was a tie 0-0 but the most brutal, violent soccer game I've ever seen.  Naturally, all officials call games differently and to be honest it's more fun when they let a lot go.  That's some real action and the boys really get in to the aggressiveness and I love that.  But there's a point where rules must be enforced for safety reasons.  It's for their protection and so that REAL soccer can be played that the officials are there.  Our officials in our first game seriously frightened every parent there.  The boys really all crossed the line and it was literally violent– think 2or 3 fist-fights, lots of "posturing", a TON of pushing, shoving, cursing, throwing other players to the ground (literally like grabbing 2 fists full of shirt and heaving them to the ground), elbows thrown, high kicks, and a lot of shouting from parents… and kids.  It was a mess.  It really did drain our boys and took them out of the game mentally.  It was spartan.  It was so disappointing that they were not playing their best– or even GOOD– soccer as a result.  And as a result, we tied 0-0.  I still get a pit in my stomach as I feared for my child's health and safety on the field.  Can I say that I was very proud that he kept his temper in check and that he played equally as tough as the other players but kept himself in check?   Love that kid. 

A few hours later as the boys hit the field we were disappointed to see that our guys were mentally out of a game that they easily could have won.  They were tired and it looked like a pick up game.  Sad, sad, sad.  Halfway through the second half, I looked downfield as someone yelled, "Kick it out of bounds!"  I saw Jojo white as a ghost holding the back of his forearm as he sank to his knees.  Uh-oh.  He went down and leaned over as I saw his buddies on that end rush to see about him, and then I saw one of our team dads who was an orthopedic surgeon run out to him from the sidelines.   I heard Jojo kind of moaning/screaming (he told me later he was saying, "It's broken!  It's broken" because he had heard the "crunch"– sorry) and I started flitting around in a mini-panic.  It was obvious when I saw the other teams parents running looking for help that our soccer day was done.  When I got down to him he was looking for me and Dr. M was holding his arm together with both hands.  We got J to lie down and he was in shock I believe.  I threw my phone to a friend who I got to call Mr. Grits–I knew if I called him I'd scare him with my freaked-out voice that was currently 2 octaves too high plus I had just gotton to J and I didn't want to scare him either.  I was able to calm him down by praying with him and getting him to slow his frantic breathing down.  Miraculously I was able to calm myself down too doing that.   I asked my friend, "So what are we looking at?" and he said, "Compound fracture of the wrist."  Ouch. 

Our good friend Dr. M, who just "happened" to be from Memphis, where we were, had some other ortho friends who worked and lived locally.  He started pulling in every favor he ever had and within a few minutes we were on our way to see an old friend and walked right in to the hospital with standing orders for my sweet boy's care.  Wow, what a blessing.  Can I just tell you too that before we left that night there had been SIX other broken arms from that particular soccer tournament that weekend?  Good officials are very necessary.  😦

To make a long story longer… he had x-rays and I was able to go back with "my doctor friends" haha and see the pics as they discussed them.  It was so cool how they do it all digitally now.  I was a little grossed out to see the particulars of the injury– radius and ulna both fractured.  The ulna just looked like a bone that snapped clean through.  The radius looked like a train had hit it from the front and it just splintered in half and pointed up.  Yeah, it was nasty. 

Shortly they had him in a treatment room, hooked him up to an iv of versed and morphine which may have been the 2nd worst part for him–he is very anxious over these things.  As soon as he was relaxed and sleepy, I told him I'd be back and I went out to wait.  Dr. M had told me that he might get wide-eyed and say "OW!"   Yea.  What I heard from 20 feet away was not "OW."  I think it was the tearing of the fabric of a mother's heart as my baby boy screamed a "man scream" of the worst kind.  I was on the phone and the woman on the other end heard it (yeah, it was that loud) recognized his screaming and we both burst in to hysterical tears.  I could barely breathe; she just started praying one of those prayers you just "vomit" out when you can't think.  I felt someone rubbing my shoulder and when I looked up about 3 minutes later when I started to stop shaking there was a hulk of a old black man nurse who came to comfort me.  What a sweet look he had on his face.  He just stood with me as I sobbed and then another younger female nurse moved me outside to talk to me back down from the ceiling.  A few minutes later I was ready to see him and be by his side so I wiped down my face and tried to calm myself.  I was squatting at the same place in the hall with a box of snotty tissues when the docs stepped out so they could x-ray the re-set.  Dr. M happened to look over at me and blanched.  He came over and told me he hadn't realized I'd only gone that far– I should have been OUT.  Yeah, um, I wasn't.

Can I have something for the pain?

I composed myself and went in.   I tried my best to act like it was no big deal.  I think I pulled it off.  He said he felt a lot better now.  The doctors said we'd have to wait a few hours to make sure the meds didn't have any adverse effects, so we waited for what was an eternity.  I'm so grateful for all the phone calls we had during this time, and the visits from all the friends (including A&G who brought our luggage to the hospital, as our plan was to head back HOME after discharge that night.  He and I were both ready to just go home.)  We got a lot of discouragement about going home that night, and with my husband's blessing I could have… but it wound up being so late by the time we were able to get released that my sweetie wound up booking a room where the team was staying.  (I know we could have troubled you, A&G but it was so late we didn't want to cause more confusion in your home.  Y'all have been so sweet and good to us!!!) 

We finally got some dinner and back to the hotel, and one of our team dad escorted me to a pharmacy to get some pain meds for my boy.  Pain meds in; lights out.  We were dead to the world– and I NEVER sleep in hotels. 

He had wanted to try to get up and make the team's 7 AM game, but sadly we slept through it.  (We lost, making our weekend record a pathetic 0-1-2.) 

We checked out, got on the road, and now are so glad to be in our home (which, I still wish we had done last night but oh well…) 

Thanks for all your prayers and comments.   The weekend was not what we expected, but as I've said a million times to my sweet boy, it's all for our sanctification.  He and I thoroughly enjoyed being together.  I can't count how many times he told me
thank you for different things.  I can't tell you how many times he did sweet things like offer me his jacket when I was cold and ask me if he could help me and walked with his arm around me (oh yes, he did!)  How many times this day have we said "We had the BEST time this weekend– except for that one part."  :-) 

We are here
September 20, 2008, 8:41 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

Well, we are in Memphis gearing up for the first game of the day!  The trip was uneventful and we are grateful for our wonderful hosts!  :-) 
Will update on games as I can!

We need a limerick!
September 16, 2008, 8:43 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

I'm sick of not eating good bread
Yeah, veggies will make me "well fed." 
I want chocolate fudge
South Beach is a drudge
But 6 ugly pounds I have shed.  🙂

BORING.  Let's try again…

There once was a tv remote
Who said to the phone, and I quote:
"Let's get lost in this couch
And make dad a big grouch!
He'll bellow and bray like a goat." 

I'd like to thank the Random Word Generator for supplying the word "remote" as inspiration for this limerick. 
Ok, ok, I'm really out of practice.