Something In A Name

"I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't believe a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a thistle or a skunk cabbage."
-Anne Shirley in Anne of Green Gables

There is so much meaning in a name.

 I have been very delicate lately; I know you wouldn't know it to look at me or talk with me. I am not one to freely share my delicacies. But I was a struggling mama this week. I know there are a million blog posts about Mother's Day, but this one is for me. This one is my encouragement. Because, you see, I haven't wanted to be a mom this week. I haven't wanted to respond to the word, "Mommy."

There is so much meaning in that name.

Mommy. Mommy. To children who are safe and secure this is a name that brings comfort. This is a name that brings images of support, encouragement, and sacrificial love. This is a name that offers protection. This is the name they call when they are hurting or when they fall and skin their knee or when they need a drink of water. The name they run to when they need a hug or their tears dried. This the name they cry out in the middle of the night. This is the name that they cry when they wake up in the morning.

There is so much meaning to me.

Sometimes I can't be the Mommy. Sometimes I am too fragile; sometimes I am too broken. My children built a house of cards this week. As they built, I felt like that house. So unstable, so moveable, so ready to fall at the slightest bit of movement. But then something beautiful happened. My son, so patiently and purposefully, would re-build. He delicately and slowly took each card that had fallen and placed it back upright.

There is meaning in another name.

I needed that. Christ (Abba, Father, Daddy), to me, is that delicate and loving hand. The one that patiently puts me back right when I fall down. That name I call when I fail. That name I call when I cannot be Mommy. The name that re-assures me when the days are long and the children need me. The name that I cry out to in the middle of the night. The name which is above every name.

I do not have to be the end all. There is a name above Mommy. A name that is more and means more. A name I can cry out to. A name that takes the broken and re-builds. A name that sees my sorrows and wipes my tears. The name I cry out to carry the burden that is too heavy.

So I breath out. I take my little ones into my arms and I say, "yes." Yes to being their Mommy because when I fail, there is another name...more sweet than Mommy. More gentle than Mommy. More loving than Mommy. There is a name that gives me the strength. Strength to love more each day, strength to grow in compassion, strength to give sacrificially.

As my littlest one curls up in my lap and snuggles close, her soft hair tickles my nose. She says, "I love you Mommy."  I choose to remember there is another name. There is a name in whom I can find rest for my weary soul. I am embraced when I call out this name. I am held and snuggled. I am loved and so are they.

Run ~ Reflections of My First 5K

You will not find any photos in this post so enjoy the story, and you can imagine the pictures. 

 I run. I run for my health; I run to clear my head; I run to jump in puddles; I run to have fun with my family.
I DO NOT (or did not) run 5K races. That was until last weekend when I completed my first 5K. I was not fast, but I was not last either. I completed in 29.14 minutes. I was not "wasted" at the end; I felt great! So, why, since I have been running well...forever, why did it take until I was 32 to run my first 5K?

Competition: Unfortunately, or fortunately, I am fairly competitive. But even though I have this competitiveness inside of me, I hate competing. I ran track and field in high school (long time ago). I ran the 800, the 400 and the 4X400. I loved practice days, but I dredded meet days. I was sick to my stomach all day long. I was shaky with nerves; I had to use the restroom every 5 minutes on race days. 5K races never interested me because all my past nerves and insecurities came rising to the surface all too quickly.

 Cost: Pay to run? Why would I do that? I know most of these races are fundraisers, but why would I pay to run when I can run without paying? And, here's the thing. We all run. We are a running family. We do not run every day; we do not always run together, but we all run. And race fees can add up very quickly even if just three of us are running the 5K. The fun runs at the beginning are great, but my oldest did not ever want to do the fun runs. She wanted to run the 5Ks. And she can do it, and she runs more steadily and faster than I do. This summer lends itself to me running these races alone. My oldest injured her knee last winter and cannot run on the road yet (or even run for any length of time). My husband agreed to hang with the kiddos so I could run (what a gem he is). The cost for one of us to run is much easier to swallow.

The morning of race day came too quickly, and I asked my family not to come watch. Not because I didn't want them there, but because I couldn't stomach having them there. You know the feeling in the pit of your stomach that prevents you from eating and causes your legs to feel like jello. Yes, this was me (at age 32) on race day. I couldn't fall asleep the night before. Once I did sleep, I had the craziest running dreams. I woke up way too early and almost called in sick. But I plowed through confronting my nerves. The elementary school bathrooms and I established a relationship that morning, but I didn't allow that to stop me. 

Then we were all called to line up. I thought I was going to lose the banana I ate for breakfast. I stood there waiting for the "gun" to go off. And it didn't. A cute little 5th or 6th grader (after singing the National Anthem) said, "Go!" That was it? No freak out moment? No waiting for everyone to be ready? No false starts? No pressure?

What freedom! I was just running. I was running for my health, not to compete with all these other runners. I was running with a friend, and we were enjoying it (well except for maybe some of those small hills). I got into a rythm and felt strong.

So, I ran it. I did it. And I jumped up and down for the rest of the day proclaiming to the world, "I ran my first 5K!" I didn't care what "place" I came in. I didn't care that people passed me. I kept a steady pace and stayed on target with a time that was comfortable to me. I was not running to push myself to my limit; I was running to push myself to the next level. I will run another 5K in early June. Having this as a goal has kept me consistent in running at least 4 times a week. I like this. I like having the accountability to run.

Sometimes we all run in the field next to our house. Sometimes I run with one child in the baby jogger and three on bikes. Sometimes I run alone. Sometimes I run on the treadmill (although not my favorite). Sometimes I run with a friend. I like this culture. I like this "non-competitive running to be active" lifestyle. I like teaching my children through modeling it myself. And not just teaching them to be healthy and active but teaching them that they can overcome, that they can face their fears, their nerves, their insecurities and overcome!

Hello Spring, Goodbye Winter

 Spring is finally on its way. It is time. Time for the snow to melt. Time for the trees to bud. Time for the mud and puddles to invade every corner of the yard. Time for the pavement to become our canvas. Time for brown everywhere. Time for new life.

 The transition of spring falls naturally with the rhythm of my life. It seems that spring knows just when to creep out from under the snow. When my body and mind are eager for less time snuggled under blankets reading and more time sitting in the warmth of the sun on the porch. Less time building a fire and more time working in the garden. Less time sleeping in and more time waking with the sun. Less time staying in after dinner due to cold and dark and more time playing outside.
 

 I do enjoy winter, but I embrace the beauty and readiness of spring. I naturally become more self reflective this time of year. It is when I do my deepest soul searching. Newness is everywhere around me, and it inspires me to dig deep within myself and hash through who I am and who I want to be.

 So I say hello to spring and goodbye to winter.

Thankful Thursdays ~ Poison Ivy Home Remedies and Bursts of Yellow

Another week of many things to be thankful for, of which I will only share two.

Poison Ivy Relief.
Kaylynn has had more battles with Poison Ivy (or poison Sumac) than I can count. Two years ago, it left her immobile on the couch with eyes swollen shut, Jewel weed packs all over her body, and still no relief. We have tried everything from boiling Jewel weed, tea tree oil, and organic lotions to Benedryl with little to no relief for my dear daughter. I am not willing to put her on steroids (which is what the next "recommended" step is) so this time around, I dug deeper. Our first line of defense is poison ivy soap which we wash her with almost daily. But when that is not around, she breaks out all over the place. In my search for a natural relief I found Lemons! Yes lemons.

I rubbed the lemon on her rash, and she had almost immediate relief for nearly 6 hours. It did burn a little, but the relief was worth it. Baking Soda and Vinegar paste was also a big hit. This has less of a burning sensation and provides the same relief. I am so thankful for these "in my cupboard" remedies because my poor daughter was miserable. Her beautiful smiles are back, and my hear swells with gratitude! We are going on vacation this weekend, and I am packing our poison Ivy soap and lots of lemons!

I am also thankful for Vibrant Yellow on the clothesline!

If you feel inspired and want to join in on Thankful Thursdays, please leave a link to your blog post so everyone can read about what you are thankful for. If you do not blog, please leave a comment and tell me what you are thankful for right now, this very moment.
 

 It is easier to live through the ugly when we look for the beauty.

Nothing Like a Good Book

We read a lot in our house, and summer is no exception (nothing like a good book on a relaxing summer afternoon). Kaylynn has always been an eager reader. She just recently finished Little Women (the unabridged version). Her favorites still tend to be youth biographies (she loves Corrie Ten Boom, Amy Carmichael, Helen Keller, etc) or any other type of Historical Fiction. Jeremie is still in the very beginning stages of reading. He will read very simple stories but has not taken off independently yet. Kalli wants to read so badly but just isn't there, and Cami....well she's 2.
So, this means that I (or daddy or big sister) get to curl up with my kiddos everyday and read. I have 4 children's reading needs to meet which means I need to be intentional about reading. Picture books are a favorite for everyone. All of my children can sit for hours and listen to me read picture books (even my 2 year old). Each child has their favorites, though, that none of the others enjoy so I also get one on one reading time.

Currently, I am reading The Hobbit to Kaylynn. We are enjoying the language, the adventure, and the silliness of Old Bilbo Baggins.I miss so much of what she reads because she is so independent so I make it a priority to find a book that has some challenging vocabulary....something that she would not understand reading on her own. And right now, that book is the Hobbit, and what a alluring story, that I always enjoy returning to.

To Jeremie, we read The Magic Tree House series. He loves these books and will listen to them over and over. The adventure stories of Jack and Annie have often become a springboard for further study. He especially liked Night of the Ninjas, and we spent weeks studying "ancient Ninjas" afterward.

To Kalli, I read Berenstain Bears. She loves Brother Bear, Sister Bear, Cousin Freddy, and Lizzy! She will check out the entire shelf at the library. We have read them over and over. She also enjoys the "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" series. We just checked out "If you Give a Dog a Doughnut," and we enjoy following the dog through what he wants until we come full circle to the doughnut again.

Cami  wants me to read the same three books over and over. I remember going through this phase with each one of my older children. I have memorized the books and can "read" them without even looking at the page. I start making up funny voices at this point or trying to find a hidden object on the page to make it more interesting (for me). Her favorites are Good Night Moon (I never grow tired of this one), and "Not Norman: A Goldfish Story.  She has checked it out from the library at least 4 times and has most of it memorized. We return it, and the very next trip to the library, she checks it out again. The librarian has even commented on how much she loves this book.

 

I am reading Little Men. I finished Little Women (before Kaylynn) just to be sure that the content was okay for her (as I could not remember from high school), and now I have been slowly pushing my way through Little Men. I like it, but not as much as Little Women. I am also reading Ann Voskamp's book One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where you Are (this is my 2nd time reading through this book). Sometimes her style of writing is a little too poetic for me, especially when I just want to get to the good stuff.  There are a few sections of the book that I skim through (because I am not looking for poetry). Most of it, though, is packed full of encouragement, inspiration, and has given me opportunity to re-evaluate how I look at life.

One of my (and my kiddos) new all time favorite books, though, is Miss Rumphius. This book is full of beautiful illustrations (my non-readers will pick this one up just to enjoy the pictures) and is simply a delightful story. I never knew what a Lupine was until I moved to Maine. They are beautiful, wild perennials that grow all over Maine. I have seen them on the side of the highway, on rocky hillsides, and in my own backyard. I have grown to love these flowers and wait expectantly every year for them to bloom. I think Miss Rumphius inspired me to adore these beautiful flowers. Miss Rumphius is given a challenge by her grandfather to make the world a more beautiful place. She travels the world doing many different things until she finally realizes what it is she can do to make the world a more beautiful place.

What are some good books you are reading this summer?

Thankful Thursdays ~ Legos and a Hat

I could use this time sharing about how I am thankful for my kids, my husband, various aspects of nature, Christ's hand in my life, etc. It would all be real, authentic, and beautiful, but this week I am searching for more. I am searching deeper, to develop a heart of thanks beyond the obvious. Beyond what is staring me right in the face to those spaces in my life that may not look so beautiful on the surface. When I dig deeper, I find a treasure hidden. I have done it this week and found some gems. It is so easy to be thankful in the beautiful moments but maybe not as easy to have a heart of gratitude in the midst of a struggle or even mere inconvenience.
 I am thankful for piles of Legos scattered about the floor;  I step on the Lego castle in the middle of the night; I scream silently in agony, and I give thanks because these bits of plastic are evidence of  hours of imagination and delight.

And because it is so much fun, I am also thankful for a new vintage turquoise hat purchased today at La Donna Zabella Boutique, a super cute consignment store in downtown South Paris (Maine) for only $5.00. I have been looking for the perfect summer hat, and this is it. Thanks to the assistance of my wonderful photographers (Kaylynn and Kalli) I have photos too!

This one taken by my darling 5 year old.

 This one by my 9 year old, and yes that is a bug on the top of the hat.

 

And I captured this one later as the little ones enjoyed the new hat. 

If you feel inspired and want to join in on Thankful Thursdays, please leave a link to your blog post so everyone can read about what you are thankful for. If you do not blog, please leave a comment and tell me what you are thankful for right now, this very moment.
 

 It is easier to live through the ugly when we look for the beauty.

Thankful Thursdays ~ A Garden's First Produce

I am intentional about thankfulness. There is joy and beauty in thankfulness. Some days, it is so difficult to "stop and smell the roses." Sometimes we forget to take a deep breath, look around, and give thanks. That is why I am going to share thankfulness with all of you every Thursday. If you feel inspired and want to join in on Thankful Thursdays, please leave a link in the comments so everyone can read about what you are thankful for. If you do not blog, please leave a comment anyway and tell me what you are thankful for right now, this very moment.
 It is easier to live through the ugly when we look for the beauty.
And today, I am thankful for our very first cherry tomato of the season. On the glee, the squealing out loud when I walked out to the garden today. And the children jumping up and down right along with me. The measures I took to eliminate the early blight worked and now we have tomatoes!

**Disclaimer** the idea Thankful Thursdays is not my original idea. I am not sure where I saw it many years ago, but I have been inspired to verbalize my thankful heart more often in order to rid my life of as much negativity as I can. I have found that searching for something to be thankful for leaves no room for negativity....almost like the Pollyanna "Glad" game. I look forward to being inspired by all of you and your thankful thoughts.
Just click on the link below and let's share our thankful hearts!

MOB Society Blog Hop

I am so excited to participate in the MOB society Blog Hop this year. Here is an opportunity for me to introduce my family while getting to know other families.
I have never done an "official" introduction on this blog so now is as good a time as any. So, pleased to meet all of you new readers and enjoy the "formal" introduction.

As a family,  we seek to live out the love of Christ in our community. We desire to share what that looks like with our children, teaching them that with love, grace, and thankfulness we can embrace those around us. Our favorite thing is being together. We are travelers and dreamers. We always have another adventure around the corner (whether it be next month or 5 years from now). We love exploring creation and challenging ourselves individually and collectively. In the fall, we hike. In the winter, we hike, sled, and ice skate. In the Spring, we hike. In the summer,our explorations keep us as close to a cool body of water as we can get whether that be a lake, ocean, river, or puddle.

As an individual,  I am a homeschooling mom of 4 crazy, wild, patient, excited, loud, compassionate children. I have three girls and one boy. Community (locally, nationally, and internationally) outreach is important to me, and I seek to instill that in my children as well through volunteering with the community garden, the library, and the local teen center. Internationally, we help support The Apparent Project by collecting cereal boxes and shipping them to Haiti. The artisans make beautiful jewelry out of the recycled cereal boxes. I teach private Spanish lessons. I am a writer. I keep this blog as the story of our lives with hopes that our stories may encourage other families. I also write, as the children's editor, for an online minimalist footwear website Toe Salad.
 I run. I dream. I play. I laugh. I dress up. I am spontaneous fun.

About my son
A big ball of fire, nicknamed Dash because he is always full speed ahead. A lover of all things that "go fast", including mini bikes, go-karts, and even golf carts.An architect (with Legos and Minecraft), a prayer warrior, a peacemaker, an explorer, a deep thinker, strong but very sensitive, compassionate, and full of silly facial expressions and fun which he loves to capture with the camera everyday.

 

 

His favorite photos are self-taken of the inside of his mouth 

which also means we get a great view of his nostrils.

In play, he loves Checkers, Legos, and Minecraft for organized sit down games. But more often, I will find him donning some odd costume which always has a character attached. A stealthy ninja, an explorer hunting dinosaurs, a stunt cyclelist, a cowboy wrangling the cattle, a circus clown, a "back then times" boy, or a brave knight fighting off a dragon which always includes Nerf swords, Daddy, and any other willing characters. 

And the girls
I know this is a blog hop about boys, but I also have three girls, and an introduction would not be complete without them. They are just as silly, fun loving, and adventuress as their brother (although in different ways). They are delightful, encouraging, and inspiring. Two of them love pink; one of them hates pink. Two of them love pretty dresses; one of them always wants pants. They all dance ballet and spend as much time in costume and goofing off as the rest of us.

I look forward to meeting all of you and your beautiful families!

Just one of those days

Have you ever had "just one of those days?" I know, we all have, but seriously, how often do we tell the world? Or more importantly, how often do I tell the world? So here is another transparent moment, a time of sharing one of those days. One of those days that I desperately search for the beauty in the ugly because it is certainly not staring me in the face.
Thursday night I remember that we have a full day on Friday. The time has come to (and I whisper) butcher the chickens. We had prepared our children for this (as much as one can prepare children), and we were all ready. We have new baby chicks, and these ladies were just getting too old. So, my Friday story begins:

I wake up with plenty of time to get everyone ready, load the chickens, and drive the hour and 20 minutes it takes to get to the butchering place. So I am going slow before I remember that I forgot to do groceries the night before, and there really isn't anything "quick" to eat....no fruit, no oatmeal, no yogurt, no bread, nothing....and no time to cook. No biggie, we have plenty of time, I will just buy something on the way. I know what you're thinking, "Eew buy something on the way and eat in the car?!" And when I say "buy something on the way, I mean the grocery store" (we do not eat fast food and have not eaten fast food in years). So still feeling pretty good about the day (although missing morning breakfast at the table is never fun), I proceed to get ready. I choose my white "hippy" tank with my colorful, mismatch fabric skirt (why do I not have photos of this cute outfit....well, it was one of those days, and I didn't take any photos). I love wearing skirts in the summer! Kids are dressed, water bottles filled, and we are heading out the door to load chickens when the phone rings. It's daddy so I have to answer. He needs help with something from our home computer. I give him the information he needs (which takes another 5 minutes). At this time I am feeling a little stress but still in control.

We head out to get the chickens, and then it dawns on me. How in the world am I going to get those chickens from their pen, to the cage, and into the van? Okay kids, pile out of the van and help mommy load chickens into the cage. It takes us 15 minutes to get all those chickens in the cage (I think they know what is happening). Then the Ugh moment. We have to get this cage all the way over to the van (which is a walk across the yard). Why didn't I put the cage in the van first then load the chickens? I don't know....hindsight is always 20/20. So my little darlings help me carry the cage over to the van, all the while those lovely chickens are pooping all over my white shirt (again, what was I thinking). We try the back of the van, they don't fit. I scramble to the side and throw down newspaper and stick them on the seat. Another 15 minutes has passed, and we are ready. We pile in. We are now going to be late....no time to stop for food. We are all hungry, but the kids are troopers. Drink your water! Meanwhile, the chickens are pooping all the way, and I am suffocating because of the smell on the hot July day.

We arrive ten minutes late (and yes I am still in my poopy shirt and my chickens have covered my van door with lots of deposits)  so we have to wait. The kids see more than I want them to, and the oldest starts to cry. I try to hide them, to shield them but it just doesn't help. I unload the chickens and almost loose my stomach. This is too much for me. I thought I could handle it, but I can't. I leave the chickens and take the kids around the side of the building and wait. I comfort my oldest while my middle two are whining because they are so hungry (who can blame them)? She says, "they don't deserve to die; they didn't do anything wrong." I hold her and love her. She calls daddy, and he offers more comforting words.

The chickens are done, the younger three are happy to be leaving because all they can think about is food. Now, where to go to get them something to eat. Ah yes, a cute little sandwich shop. We pull in, the older two start to order while the third starts crying. She says, "I don't want to eat here." Already on edge, I respond with a not so patient, "Why?" "Because Big G's will make me sick!"  Because the last time we ate at a sandwich shop, the whole family got sick, and she got the worst of it. I see. I offer what comfort I can, explain that it is a different place and that she needs to have something in her belly. She relents. We get our food, get settled at our table, and the time is 11:30am.

Then, just when I didn't think it could get any worse, my darling son picks up his sandwich , and mine at the same time (only he doesn't realize that he has mine as well, and it drops onto the floor). I do not have much patience left. I grit my teeth and ask him to be more careful. I am bummed, I want to cry. Not because of the sandwich but because of everything. He says, "Mommy, did your mom ever get mad at you just for dropping a sandwich on the floor?" I apologize for being impatient. I tell him I am not angry with him but that I am just overwhelmed. He is forgiving. I walk to the counter to order another sandwich. The manager is there. He gives me a free one. I am thankful.

The day went on with one event after another (a call from our insurance company saying that they have not received our payment, and if I don't get it in today they will cancel our coverage so I have to rush back home to deliver a payment to their office, my son complaining of a headache then feeling sick all afternoon, all while trying to comfort my oldest as she grieves the loss of the family chickens) . Have you ever had one of those days? A day when you almost cannot see through the fog. A day where you have to sift through all the ugly to find the beauty. This was one of those days. I was cranky mom which makes for cranky kiddos, and that is never a good combination. So we carry on. We remember our lovely chickens and the wonderful eggs they faithfully gave us everyday; our dearest one, Rosy, who disappeared a few months back (the kids still hope for her safe return). The beauty comes in remembering our lovely birds but also knowing that:

  I did not have to pay for two sandwiches. 

At the end of a post like this, we all need an image of something beautiful!

Confidence: A Turtle Story

Driving home last night, I passed a large, what looked like a large rock, on the side of the highway. This "rock" appeared to have a tail and at least one leg. I whipped the car over to the shoulder, and cried out, "Kids! I think that was a real LIVE snapping turtle, and I think she wants to cross the road!" (I would not have known this had we not taken a class just a month prior at the Maine Wildlife Park. We learned all about how the mama turtles will cross the road in order to lay their eggs).

 Photo Credit (because I was too busy saving a turtle to take pictures).

 Imagine the excitement that filled the car as I turned around and pulled up right behind her. She was so still; we weren't sure if she was going to cross of if she had already crossed so we waited. Then she made her move, and I freaked. Oh no! This is a 50 mile an hour road. "Kids we need to save this Snappy Turtle." So I did what any sane mother would do, and I pulled my car onto the highway, set my flashers, told the kids to stay buckled, and I got out. As soon as I got out of my car, she started moving more quickly (afraid of me or maybe she knew I was helping) right into the oncoming traffic lane. Here again, I reacted in the most calm, civil manner. I started jumping up and down like a monkey, waving my arms, and shouting, "Stop! There's a turtle in the road; she needs to lay her eggs!" The car was not slowing down, so I inched my way toward the center line, all the while jumping, shouting, waving my arms, and yelling as loud as I could (as if the driver could actually hear me). The motorist finally stopped, and the little turtle continued on her way.

 Photo Credit

I turn around, and there is a long line of cars behind mine so I did what any awesome mother would do, and I give the entire line a big cheesy grin and double thumbs up, run back to my car, hop in, and drive away. My kids were so proud, "MOM! YOU WERE AWESOME!" We saved her, and that meant the world to them. Kaylynn, being my sentimental one, says, "Mom, we need to name her: Trust, Confidence, or Faith." Kalli pipes in, "I like Confidence."

We named her Confidence.

It's Nice to be Known

Mother's Day...why am I always blogging a month after the fact?

 Every year on Mother's day I am blessed by my children's intentional love. I am always given breakfast in bed (made by them so it's usually toast, cold cereal, and a banana), and they treat me like a queen for the day. Alan does too, of course. This year I felt something more, something bigger. It did not come in the form of store bought gifts or flowers or even homemade cards (although there were plenty of those). It was this:

I just found this a couple days ago.On Mother's day I was given royal treatment (really they acted as though I was an invalid). I was not allowed to do anything....no cleaning, no cooking. The kids and Alan took care of everything. This is Kaylynn's handwriting. One week before Mother's Day she wrote out this schedule so as to guarantee that I did not have to do any chores for the day.

They speak my language; the language of sacrificial love. The language of intentional gift giving. Not that I mind doing chores, in fact, I love serving my family in this way. My children took something they know is important to me and gave it back.

 

I especially like the "get up at five o'clock with dad."

I love getting to know my children, and I love being known by my children. 

What are some ways your children know you?

When Illness Hits the Home

 We have always been a relatively healthy family. By that I mean we occassionaly get the common cold but seldom get the flu or any other kind of illness....until this year. It started with Alan. He had the whole deal, then Jeremie came down with an abnormally high fever and body aches which only lasted 24 hours, then Kaylynn got the high fever and body aches and intense belly pain which lasted less than 24 hours, then Kalli got it, and this is where it gets yucky so if you prefer not to read about puke, fevers, children, and hospitals then you should stop now. This is all part of me sharing my story through motherhood, and this was one of those moments that made time stand still, and an experience I will never forget.

Kalli (who is 4) started throwing up Thursday morning. She threw up nearly every 5 minutes until about 6:00pm. Her fever stayed steady at 103.7 (which was frightening to me because I have never had a child spike a fever that high). She was diligent with sipping water, broth, and even some pedialyte (which I don't typically use) all during this spell. She stopped throwing up at about 6:00 and went to bed. She slept all the way through the night, woke up the next morning without a fever and feeling much better. She wanted to eat. I gave her a little bit of toast and a bit of banana. An hour later, her fever spiked high again, and she started throwing up. I need to insert some history here....we have never had an illness in our house last over 24 hours so even though I am a mama of 4, (and she is my third) I didn't know what to do. So I called the doctor. The response I got was as long as she is still drinking (and peeing occassionaly) in between vomiting spells then she is still hydrated and should be fine. Okay, I can handle that. So, we kept pushing the sips of liquid, and she kept throwing up. Her fever stayed consistently high all day long, and she started to pass from sleep to awake to sleep more often. Her lips were cracking and bleeding. So I called the doctor again. This time, she asked me if Kalli's mouth was still moist. Yes, her mouth was still moist. Okay, she is still hydrated and doing just fine. How about this, if she throws up again, bring her in. By this time, all that was coming out of Kalli was green stomach bile.  She didn't throw up again. She went to bed, slept all the way through the night. When she woke up, she was feeling better (this was Saturday morning). She wanted to eat. I gave her one cracker and a little chicken broth. She sipped and nibbled (and did not finish either one).

An hour later, she started screaming in agony and was doubled over in pain, clutching her stomach. I responded as any mother would respond and just held her while she screamed. Then she instantly stopped screaming, looked at me and smiled, then closed her eyes and was fast asleep. So I rocked and she slept. Then she woke, looked up, tried to grab at something that was not in the air, then looked at me and started screaming again, "It hurts, take the pain away!" Then with HUGE eyes of fear, she screams, "MOMMY, where are you? MOMMY why did you leave? I NEED you!" Imagine my heart being ripped right out of my chest as I am holding my darling 4 year old, and she has no idea that I am cradling her. Alan comes rushing in from the other room, I start to cry. He takes her, calms her. She hears his voice, and I go upstairs and cry. Everything inside of me says, "take her to the emergency room." I get ready while Alan tries to get her to sip a little more. She screams in pain again, clutching her stomach, and then it happens again. Only this time, it is daddy holding her. She doesn't know he is there, she screams for him. He holds her, and I look in his eyes and see the same fear that I feel. I get my shoes on; she is still in pajamas and has no shoes. I buckle her into her booster seat, and we drive the 5 minutes to the hospital. The emergency room doc confirms that she needs fluids, but they also need to take labs. They bring in fluid, they bring in an IV. She gets hysterical again and starts screaming right in my face. "Where is my mommy?! Why did you take my mommy away from me?!" I cry, hold her tight, and say, "Mommy is here, mommy is here." She closes her eyes and says, "Jesus make me feel better." Then she goes to sleep. When she wakes up, she knows me, she has questions. "Will that be in my arm forever mommy?" "Can I go home now?" The pediatric doctor comes in with her labs results. She is severely dehydrated, sugar is low, potassium is low, calcium is low, and she needs to stay overnight. The transfer us from the ER room to a standard hospital room where she gets to control the bed and the TV. We watch a Disney movie while we wait for daddy and the other kids to come visit. They bring us our tooth brushes, jammies, changes of clothes, books, coloring books, and crayons. When they leave, we go to sleep. She says, "Mommy stay right next to me please." So I lay next to her in the tiny hospital bed and try to sleep but simply cannot. The nurses come in a check on her throughout the night. They check vitals and change her IV bag. In the morning, she is not better. She cannot walk; she cannot eat. The doctor says we will have to stay another day. Grandma comes to visit with books, movies, and games. The doctor returns in the afternoon, and says Kalli is better. But she still won't eat. Grandma brings yogurt from home, and Kalli eats it which gives us the go ahead to go home. After 9 bags of fluid, and a little food that stayed in her belly, they let us go home. She was on the mend.

Now, over a month later, no one would even guess that she was so sick. Children recover so well, but I have to say that I have not. I can still hear her screams; I can still see her pale, frail body lying next to me. I can still remember what it felt like to carry her to the bathroom because she could not walk.  These are the times when my mothering is stretched, and I wonder where the strength is going to come from. Then it's just there, and I do what is natural, and we get through it. But now it is only a memory, and I hold her a little closer and give thanks for good health.