In the kitchen… homemade sidewalk paint, which I need to cover...so much less expensive than crayola!

From the garden… hee hee...dew.  On the feet of my dogs when they came in from outside tonight.  'Cause nothing living is coming out of the garden this summer.

Outside my window…crickets chirping, lulling me to sleep.

I am creating… tomorrow's insane to-do list...have to accomplish something.  Many somethings, actually. 

I am thankful for… nieces and nephews to cherish and be splashed by.

I am striving for… perseverance.

I am praying for… Mark & Beka, Seth, Lauren.

I am praising for… my sister-in-law's visit.

On my notepad…that crazy to-do list, the name of Reasa's pageant coordinator, the beginnings of a grocery list.

I adore my children.  Have I mentioned that??  There is very little I wouldn't do for them. 

 

They will be hard-pressed to get me to sleep in a tent in the back yard with them again.  Because, you see, last night, that is exactly what we did. 

 

So many of you have done this.  I know because I've heard the stories.  You pitch that tent, you do the camp thing, you make wonderful memories with your children.  In theory, this is how things were meant to go last night.  The reality, however, proved somewhat different.

 

I went to my parents to borrow a tent, and rather than finding their (30-year-old canvas) tent, my brother assured me that their (much newer, easier to set-up, more water-proof) tent was in our attic.  Home we came, to search in the attic for said tent. 

 

We found the tent in the fourth rubbermaid tote we looked through (after tripping over various pieces of taken-apart furniture and nearly breaking another toe), and dragged it out to the back yard, took everything out of the bags and unfolded it...to find that there were pieces I honestly could not figure out what they had to do with the structure in front of me.  And add to that the fact that I sincerely could not tell where to put poles, or how it all went together...yes, it was a time when seeing it set up previous to trying to set it up myself, or having more experience with tents in general may have been a good thing.  Hmm.

 

About 20 minutes later, I got the thing set up, questioning even at the point when my dad dropped by whether or not it was done correctly (he agreed that it must be at least mostly right, though he couldn't explain the extra pieces in the bags any better than I could) and decided that dinner would be hot dogs from the grill, boiled potatoes (left over from the weekend) and baked apples (on the grill--soooooo yummy).  Camping food, right?  Sure.  Bryson and Lainie completely turned up their noses to the apples, and ate popsicles for bednight snack instead.  Ah, well.  I tried.

 

So, we finished our movie before bed (because we couldn't have a campfire--there are town ordinances, after all, and something about wasting propane in the grill to roast marshmallows right now was just not appealing--plus, I left the marshmallows in the camper last weekend, and I don't have any trees to cut sticks from), and at 9:15, headed out to the tent (where everyone's sleeping bags and pillows had been set up...and had to be torn back apart and set up again before we went to sleep).  Unfortunately, we found that we needed flashlights, and all of the flashlights needed new batteries.  One of them fell apart and had to be superglued before we could go out (well, of course it did).  As I was gluing, Reasa and Bryson came back inside from the tent flipping out--someone had left the door flap open and the tent was "completely filled" with bugs.  For Pete's Sake.  I tried telling them about the nightly tradition when I was camping with my parents as a teenager--standing in the middle of our pop-up with a fly swatter, killing off the 40,000 mosquitoes which had found their way inside through the door and various other openings in the canvas.  What started as constant "slap, slap, slapping," gradually tapered off to a slap every few seconds, to a slap every 10 or 15 seconds, until most of the offending critters had died off (and had to be swept out by my obsessive compulsive mother before any of us could sleep).  The kids didn't appreciate my story.  They all claimed they were going inside, and that was the end of it.  I explained, very calmly of course, that I had NOT gone to all of this trouble and let them stay up an hour past their bedtime to have them go inside, and I was NOT sleeping outside with one kid while two others slept inside (because by this point, Lainie had joined me in the bug smacking and had decided it was more fun to kill the bugs than worry about them), and they were being absolutely RIDICULOUS, and if anyone mentioned once more that they were going inside, I was going to have to spank them, and that was the end of it.  Reasa blubbered, buried herself in her covers while the slap, slap, slapping turned into an occasional slap...and she got over it.  Bryson joined Lainie in the slapping, and it turned into a giggle fest.  Too bad I had set the tent up on the only hole Chani has ever dug in our yard (with the help of her red-coated friend and "big sister," Chelsea), and Reasa's sleeping bag was directly over top of it.  I made a trip into the house to find a pillow to fill the hole (strangely, Reasa never complained again about it once we "filled" it).  Unfortunately, I also set this tent (which I believe claims to "sleep 6" and in reality, fits 3 comfortably, with a fourth crunched up in the entrance--yes, that was me) very intelligently set up on a slope...

 

Have I mentioned I don't sleep wonderfully in my own bed most nights? 

 

Yeah.  It was a rough night.  My right shoulder and hip are sore, despite the sleeping bag on top of a sleeping bag trick, as well as every time I woke up, rolling over onto my back to avoid being sore.  I didn't feel like I could justify an air mattress for one night in my back lawn.  I could tough it out, right?   

 

Have I mentioned I'm not keen on the dark?  Especially when I'm the only grown up present? 

 

I know.  I'm a total wimp.  But I did stay outside with my children.  Everyone kept warm (mainly because I was up for most of the night making sure everyone stayed in their sleeping bags and on their pillows, off each other, and mostly Chani-free (she slept on my right arm almost all night).  Would I do it again?? 

 

Yes.  I already told them they can do it tomorrow night (I am NOT going to all the trouble of setting the darn tent up and then only sleeping in it one night, and I am also NOT letting them sleep out there alone...call me overprotective.  I can accept that.).  So, maybe not so hard-pressed. 

 

What can I say?  I'm a glutton for punishment.

 

They were really mad at me tonight when I told them "not tonight."  Sheesh.  I need one night of sleep between two nights of not.  And they need the sleep too...trust me on this one.  I did take pictures, but I don't think any of them turned out all that well.  By the time I remembered the camera (my 4th trip back into the house--right before my 5th trip out of the tent to turn off the pool filter because it was making so much NOISE!!), our eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and the pre-flash on my camera to focus...it's blinding.  I have lots of squinting eyes.  I'll see what I can pull up tomorrow. 

 

Someday I'll cherish this memory.  Right now...I'm going to bed.  To sleep. 

 

Wish me luck.  With the sleeping, and with the second night in the tent. 

I missed Stacy's phone call (as I was bathing a dog...I know, very, very important job), and when I tried to call her back...I'm guessing she was talking to my friend Amy, who just posted this email to us...

 

Didn't hear anything from Stacy with specifics, other than her surgery got bumped back because of an emergency surgery that came in and had to be dealt with.  She goes in this morning.  I'm copying and pasting an email I got from Stacy this morning--I think she says it better than I could (hmm...imagine that) and you can hear a bit of her heart here.  I'll keep you posted...

 

Stacy's email:

 

OK, so here's the last I heard (haven't been home all day to update--sorry, friends):

 

This morning, Dr. Caty came in (and they were so relieved to be talking directly to him), and took a look at things.  Right now, it sounds like there's a whole lot of stuff to sort out...what exactly is constricting her esophogus, namely.  After looking at the Upper GI, it sounds like part of Bridgette's stomach has herniated back into her esophogus, which is definitely an issue, but they're not sure it's the issue.  They talked about the fact that there is so much scar tissue there, it is difficult to see what's actually happening.  He discussed with them the possibility that she may be extremely infected (esophogitis??  does that sound right??), which may cause the esophogus to swell to the point that it causes constriction.  However, after extensive bloodwork, they found no elevation in her white blood count, which seems to point to no infection.  (Stacy's comment was that when you get a mild cold, your white blood count goes up, so if she had an infection that would cause this kind of swelling, you'd know it by the blood count) (So far, Stacy hasn't mentioned the possibility of the fundo slipping again to me, so I don't know if that's still a possibility--I mention that because people have asked, and I honestly don't know--I will try to remember to ask her the next time we chat).  When we spoke this morning, the plan was that Dr. Caty was going to check the OR board and find out what was on it--to see when he could get Bridgette in to do an exploratory-kind-of surgery--sedate her and put a scope down her throat to do some checking around.  They had a talk with Bridgette about what was going to happen, and she got very, very emotional, which is to be expected.  She knows the drill...sort of.  It's been a while.  If they couldn't get her in today, she would be put first on the list tomorrow morning, and then they will come up with a plan of action once they better know what they're dealing with.

 

They did mention to Dr. Caty in all of this how frustrating it is that literally a month after Bridgette finally started eating and really making progress, this happened, and her real fear that this could be something that would cause that forward motion to cease...that she would have to be on a liquid diet for the rest of her life, especially when she is now truly learning to enjoy food.  Dr. Caty assured them that the goal in all of this would be to get Bridgette back to a point where she could eat solid foods and not have it cause a problem for her (not that that is definitely what's going on, but it has been on people's minds).

 

On a completely non-medical note, poor Bridgette...the kid is bored silly and hungry.  Stacy mentioned that visitors are welcome!!  And when she had a few, things went really well--she got her mind off being cooped up in a hospital room and got to play with some kids.  Poor monkey--she doesn't feel sick, so this must be very hard for her to understand.  Be praying for all of them as they are cooped up in the hotel, and kind of play the waiting game.  Pray for really specific answers to be found during the scope today or tomorrow or whenever that happens.  And I'll keep you posted as soon as I know more.  Thanks, so much, my friends, for your prayers. 

Got a text from Stacy just now saying that they have not heard anything further from the surgeons, but from what they understand, there will be surgery involved--they're just not sure when or how.  Please keep praying.

After finally getting into a room at the hospital at about 3 this morning, and finally getting an IV into the poor kid's arm (I guess it was quite the ordeal), Bridgette finally got settled and got to rest a bit.  Dr. Caty (her surgeon) was contacted at home (he was off for the weekend), and is calling the shots from home as of right now--which is a huge answer to prayer for Stacy and Steve.  First thing this morning, Bridgette was able to do a barium swallow (equivalent to an upper GI?).  While sitting up, she kept the barium down, but immediately upon laying down for the x-ray, she threw it up.  In the first x-ray, it showed that the barium was all just sitting in her esophogus.  Not moving at all.  They let her sit up, and waited for a little while, and when they repeated the x-ray, it appeared that a tiny amount of the barium had passed through into the stomach.  The doctor told them that there appears to be some sort of constriction at the base of her esophogus, but they don't know what it is.  They have a CAT scan scheduled for this afternoon, and the doctor was on his way to talk to the surgical team to get opinions and ideas of what they should be doing next.  Stacy is pretty convinced that it looks as though surgery is on the docket, but she doesn't really know what that is going to look like, whether a tube down into her stomach to open things up or whether they're going to actually open her up.  The doctor talked about the fact that it's very difficult to know what to do because the spot where there is a problem is so covered in scar tissue.  They are waiting right now to find out what happens next (as of about 1:30 this afternoon). 

 

They are asking for continued prayer for Bridgette's calmness, and for definite answers and decisions.  Stacy also asked for prayers for the boys--being away from Steve and Stacy, though she's sure they're having a blast with Grandma and Grandpa, it's always hard to be apart as a family during high stress times.  And they're really praying that Dr. Caty can do the surgery if surgery needs to be done--he has done every surgery Bridgette has had, which definitely gives him an advantage in terms of knowing her needs and her history. 

 

A positive note...Bridgette is really hungry!  This may not seem like a big deal, but a kid who has only asked specifically for real food for the past couple of weeks saying that she's hungry and asking for food is huge.  She has the IV to keep her hydrated, but she feels genuinely hungry--after the barium test, she asked if she could take the rest of it back to her room and drink it there!!  What a blessing to have her actually wanting food...even if it is radioactive.

 

Thanks again, friends, for praying.  I'll let you know when I find out anything else. 

If you suddenly decide to see what will happen if you start taking care of your nails, wondering if by taking care of them they will actually grow, and they suddenly do...and you decide when they are actually looking nice that maybe you should get a manicure, because it would be relaxing and a fun little treat (haven't had a manicure in 11 years, blah, blah, blah) and you suddenly act on that whim...please note:  formula 409 removes the beautiful french manicure you paid $20 stupid dollars to have applied.  And the soft, beautiful, relaxed hands you walked out of the nail salon sporting...will no longer fit that description.  At all. 

 

 

Just thought you might like to know. 

My version of this excellent idea shared by Stacy and by Quinne, "Ellipses will be a place to play really. Simple journal entries that expand my focus a little bit" --Quinne's words.  If you haven't read her blog yet, please do visit.  She has such a fresh, joyful outlook...I am humbled by her sweet spirit and joyous faith when I read her words.

Outside my window... The smell of freshly cut grass...the front lawn, mowed tonight by my husband!!

I am creating... a plan for next week, when the girls will be at camp, and Bryson will be here just with Mommy.

I am thankful for...Seth's much-more-family-friendly schedule, a new job that he loves and the prospect of adventure in our not-too-distant future.

I am striving for...perseverance.

I am praying for...my friend Shannon, who may have to have his second back surgery in 3 years, and this time with much more serious risks.

I am praising for...God's faithfulness through my obliviousness.

 

From our garden... surprise potatoes!  I didn't plant a garden this year, knowing that we probably wouldn't be here to harvest...and I missed (several) potatoes last summer!  What a fun thing to find growing!

One of my favorite things...over-tired children, because it means they can run and play and swim in the sun and with their dear friends at VBS.

I am listening to...Seth planning our summer vacation with his Dad...in Georgia!

I hate mowing the lawn when it has had two weeks to grow.  In my home, or my yard, more specifically, the husband should do the mowing.  I don't mind mowing.  Most of the time.  I just hate having to remember to do it when I'm trying to remember to do everything else inside the house. 

 

I do not enjoy being Mommy and Daddy.  There are lovely moments where I get to do all the fun stuff--help with the cooking projects, watch them achieve, teach them a new craft, snuggle them before bed, experience those joyful moments when they're just plain wonderful--but there are also the awful moments.  The ones where you have to take something away, ground them, repeat the same thing you said for the 8th time, lay down the law...or otherwise be the heavy.  And I don't have to be the heavy too often, really, but being the only one who really has to do that throughout the week...it gets old.  And yet, since I'm the parent...well, it's certainly my job.  It's so ridiculous that I'm whining about this.  Those of you who single-parent for real, you should have absolutely no sympathy for me.  Those of you who wish you could stay home with your kids all day...you either.  No sympathy whatsoever.  I'm a big baby.

 

A tired, big baby. 

 

I think I'll go upstairs and wake them up and tuck them in properly now. 

 

Yeah.  That was the horrible moment of discipline tonight.  Because after the 8th time of reminding them to do something, well, I had to lay down the law.  And I was so angry, I didn't do any of their bedtime routine.  For the first time in their lives.  It's honestly harder on me than it is on them, I think.   Actually, considering they all sobbed themselves to sleep, maybe it isn't. 

 

Yep.  Those are the moments.  The not-fun ones.  The ones that remind you there's more to being a parent than having a blast.  The times you remember you are responsible for shaping lives.  What a responsibility.  A gift.  But so not fun.