Brooklyn Says...

I overheard Brooklyn saying this to Lauren earlier:

"I want a baby brother, but we can't cause Mom made Dad get his tubes tied."


Sometimes she gets things a little mixed up, but I guess she was close enough.

First Day of School

Both girls had a fabulous first day of school. Lauren loves the new band director and her new social studies teacher. Brookie adores her teacher and having her first locker.



What do I love about a new school year? Everything! I love the hugs and the smiles and the excited children. I love new packages of paper and fresh crayons. Most of all I love the clean slate and fresh start I have with my students. Anything is possible on the first day of school and we plan on reaching the stars!



Oh and I love this too...







It's six o'clock and my youngest has already passed out. I don't think it will be long before her big sister follows suit.



Bye-bye late nights. Summer is over!

Then and Now

The other night we watched a special America's Funniest Home Videos that contained all the very best clips from days gone by. Boy howdy did that bring back memories. When Dave and I were dating we had this routine that included that show. He lived hours away so when he came to see me he stayed the entire weekend. He'd sleep in my little brother's room. I'd sleep in my room. My Dad would sleep in the hall with a gun. It was all very innocent I can assure you.

Thanks Dad.

When I said we were 'dating' I was using the term loosely. He'd come down on Friday and stay until Sunday, but the only time we'd leave my house usually was to go to church. I think we saw two movies in the two years we dated and ate out...oh, maybe four times. I'm not sure why. I know he'd have taken me out if I'd asked, but we were just really very content to be together. It didn't matter where. So we spent most of our time hanging out with either my family or his.

Anyway, back to the routine. Dave is a very anal organized so he had a schedule for his visits. He would ALWAYS leave right after America's Funniest Home Videos on Sunday night. Of course I knew this so as soon as it came on I would start to cry. I didn't mean to, it just always happened. I didn't want him to leave me. This was back in the stone ages before nonstop texting and emails made long distance relationships easier. (We actually wrote letters to each other. By Hand. Gasp!) So while we watched my favorite show I'd sit laughing and crying and laughing some more. It was always a bittersweet time.

Fast forward to the present (that's about a twenty year leap for those of you playing along at home). When we were watching the show the other night it showed many of the clips that we remembered from the 'old' days. A lot has changed over the years, but one thing apparently hasn't changed. I still leak when I watch that show.

Only it's not from my eyes anymore.

I shouldn't admit this, but you know me, I have no shame. I kid you not people, when we watched that special I had to go change my panties not once, but twice. That is so ridiculous. I don't feel that much older (but apparently my bladder does). And I know I've had two babies, but seriously, TWICE? That's just not right.

Of course it was cracking Dave up that I had the laughing dribbles. I didn't find it quite so funny. I couldn't help but try to imagine how he would have reacted to that twenty years ago. I figure he'd have got in his truck and drove off without ever looking back. But now, after years of trials and celebrations, he just laughed at with me and he didn't even think about running away.

I don't think.

Of course my Daddy DID teach me how to use that gun.

Good Deed Gone Wrong

There is a slight chance that I killed a homeless person. I said SLIGHT chance. I probably didn't...at least I hope I didn't. Okay, here's what happened:

We had to go to Abilene today to drop off one of Lauren's 24 hour urines and to have some blood work done on her. After we finished we were at a light and saw a homeless man in a wheelchair. He had no legs and looked half blind. We felt really sorry for him so we decided to give him some money. I tried to talk Brookie into getting out and giving it to him before the light changed because he couldn't walk to my car and he was too far up for me to reach him. Lauren was appalled and said that he might grab her and run away.

I pointed out that it is incredibly hard to run away with someone when you have no legs, but after hearing Lauren's protests Brookie refused to get out. I was about to put the car in park and do it myself when the light changed to green. I had no choice but to leave, so I slowed down as I passed him and tried to put money in the hat he was holding out. Unfortunately the wind caught it and blew it out into the street behind me where it somehow stopped right in the line of traffic and sat there wiggling in the wind as if daring him to retrieve it.

I didn't see if he actually wheeled himself out into the oncoming cars, but he was rolling that direction rather quickly when I drove off and lost sight of him. The kids were all upset with me. Tre yelled out, "That was MEAN Aunt Sissy!" I told him that it was an accident and that I was just trying help. For the next few miles I fretted and fretted over the man saying, "What if he was killed? What if he didn't see the oncoming cars and rolled right in front of someone and got hit. Maybe he'll lose his arms too. Then he'll have no limbs at all and it will be all my fault!"


Finally Lauren said, "Mom the man was blind and had no legs, surely he wasn't unlucky enough to be born stupid too." Hopefully she was right because if he was unlucky enough to be blind, cripple AND stupid, he was probably unlucky enough to get hit by a car and it would have been all my fault. I'll have to watch the news tonight and see if they mention a homeless man being involved in a hit and run.

Next time I'm playing it safe and I'll throw out some food. Something heavy like a burger or a bucket of chicken...

Oh that reminds me of a quick story! When Dave was coaching at he took a group of girls to the state golf tournament two years in a row. They were a great group of kids. He really enjoyed coaching them. I'll never forget the first year he took them to Austin. We were sitting at a red light in a suburban clearly marked with our school name when one of the girls rolled down her window and they all started throwing packages of donuts and snacks at some people beside the road. Dave turned around and said, "What in the heck are you girls doing? Stop that!" The girl closest to the window turned to him and said, "What? We are just feeding the homeless people." Dave quickly corrected her by saying, "Those aren't homeless people! That's a bus stop!!"

Oh. My. Gosh.

We laughed sooo hard over that one. You should have seen the puzzled looks on the faces of the people waiting for their bus and the embarrassed look on the faces of the sheltered girls in the car with us. It was classic.

Of course I have no room to laugh now. At least they didn't murder anyone.

The Faith of a Child

Recently my parents, my Aunt Sharon and Uncle Jim and my Aunt Martha bought some land to start a little ranch on. It is their retirement dream to all build houses out there together and to raise cattle. I figure we'll be inheriting land soon because they'll all kill each other within a year. Oh I kid. They will have a fabulous time and I am very, very excited for them.

Saturday they had a little cook-out on the ranch and a bunch of the family came out. I love my family. I really do. I don't know if they realize just how blessed they are to have each other. Mom decided to have this little cook-out on the spur of the moment, but still they all dropped everything and showed up. There wasn't furniture yet in the little farm house that's on the land or anything to do, but they didn't care. They were together and that's always been enough for them. It was so nice to watch them spending time together and to see how they all wanted to help out. My cousin Bubby set to work fixing a broken faucet. My uncles brought in and unloaded furniture so for them. No matter what they are always, always there for each other.

That wasn't the point of the post, just a little free nostalgia for you.

While everyone was running amuck helping out or exploring the land Lauren decided that Lasagna, Brookie's beloved cat (who had come along for a sleep over with Mumsie and Brookie) needed to go outside to potty. He had a litter box, but he hadn't used it and Lauren decided he didn't like it. Once he was outside a series of events led to him getting lost. We were surrounded by hundreds of acres of unbrushed land. It was impossible to see where he was so we just did our best and walked the land looking for him.

I drove around and hopped out to look over different areas while the girls waited in the car. We had on shorts and flip flops and I was afraid they'd get bit by a snake (not to mention the ants that were constantly covering my feet). While I looked, they yelled for the cat and it wasn't long before Brookie was crying. Lauren was crying too, because she felt sooo bad for losing the cat, but Brookie was really boohooing. It was awful. By nightfall it was obvious we weren't finding the cat and we had to call it quits for the evening.

There is nothing worse than knowing your child needs something that you can't give them. I would have done anything to make her hurt go away, yet there wasn't a thing I could do other than hug her and pray. I wasn't the only one praying. The entire time I was looking for the cat Brookie was praying. When I'd get in the car I'd see her lips moving in a silent plea to God. That made me want to find the cat even more. She was asking God for help and I really wanted to Him to come through for her. I admit that when we had to give up for the night I was a little disappointed. My problem is that I lack faith.

Luckily, Brookie doesn't. The next day there was still no sign of Lasagna and Mom took Brookie to the little church that my Grandmother used to pastor for the service, then she met me with her so I could take her on home. My cell phone rang about thirty minutes after we'd left for home and when I answered my mom asked for Brookie. I could tell that the cat had turned up by her joyful expression, but it was her loud exclamation that really grabbed me by the heart. She yelled out, with fist in the air, "yes! I knew God was listening to me pray!" She never doubted that God was listening and she gave Him immediate credit for the return of her friend.

I was very proud of her in that moment and at the same time I was disappointed in myself. I had been praying too, but even as I prayed I was filled with doubt. I didn't really think God cared about a cat and whether or not we found it. I was wrong. I should have had faith like Brookie. I should have had the faith of a child.

Not So Pretty in Pink

Those of you who know us personally know that my husband Dave is a conservative man. Actually the word conservative doesn't quite do him justice. I'm pretty sure if he'd bumped into Moses on his way down from Mount Sinai with the ten commandments he'd have told the man to shave, cut his hair, and to put on some different shoes because real men don't wear open toed sandals.

Often the girls and I have to adjust our sense of fashion to make sure we meet his strict standards. There are the obvious rules like no tattoos or body piercings (other than the ears). Then there are a few rules that seem to border on the extreme. For example, we aren't allowed to wear toe rings or ankle bracelets. Don't ask me why, because I can't really understand it myself. If I were to ask him for you, he'd just say something like, "If God wanted people to look at your feet he'd have put them where your hands are."

Last Christmas I bought both Brookie and her cousin Bailey these Hannah Montana hair coloring kits. The kits had this little device that brushed 'color' on your hair in streaks and then you wash it out. It wasn't permanent. In my mind it was just harmless fun. In his mind I'm not sure there is such a thing as harmless OR fun. It's seven months later and he still hasn't let Brookie open her kit. He absolutely refuses to let her have an 'unnatural' color to her hair and thinks I am just giving putting bad ideas into her head.

Last week the girls and I had to kill several hours while we waited for Dave to get out of a meeting. So I took Brookie to get a much needed haircut. (She got the cutest little wedge cut. I just love it on her.) When Jacie finished with Brookie's hair she showed her these hair extensions they had on sale. They were made from real hair (I didn't ask whose hair it was. I didn't want to know) and were all different colors. Well of course Brookie fell in LOVE with the bright pink hair and just had to have it. Being a loving, subservient wife that obeys her husband and respects his wishes I immediately said yes. So Jacie styled Brookies hair with the extension clipped in. She even cut the pink hair to go with her wedge. It looked so real!

In fact it looked so real that I started to get nervous. As we walked through the mall and I saw all the grandmothers giving me the 'your a terrible mother' eye, I began imagining Dave's reaction. Brookie was imagining it too, only she couldn't wait! She kept saying, 'you can't tell him it's fake. We have to trick him for a little while. Okay mom? Okay??" I agreed to go along with it unless dad got too upset, then we had to tell him.

So a few minutes later we pull up to the service center where we were supposed to meet. He was standing by the school suburban and was with a bunch of the teachers from his campus. Brookie was giddy with excitement. She kept saying over and over, "don't tell him mom! This is going to be sooo great." (The child has a little rebellious streak in her I think). We get out of our suburban and start walking towards him and his staff. My eyes are glued to his face so I see the exact moment that he notices her hair. I could see his eyes narrow and his jaw clench.

I had promised Brookie that I'd play along, but one look at his face changed my mind. Before he could say a word I blurted out, "It's fake!!!" Brookie was so annoyed with me for ruining her fun, but I couldn't help it people. I was born without her push the envelope nature. I am a pleaser. And also, I'm a big chicken!

When we got back in our car he made sure that we all knew that he doesn't her hair, fake or not and that she is not going to be wearing it back home. Brookie listens to him and then calmly informs him that as soon as she is old, like 30 (that was her idea of old?) she is going to get blue hair and there is nothing he can do about it. Of course he tells her that she won't be coming into any house of his with blue hair whether she is 30 or 80.

Can you imagine what it's going to be like when she is a teenager? I'm guessing it's not going to be fun. Of course I may not live long enough to see it. I am 35 already and apparently that's five years past OLD.

Happy Anniversary

Today would have been their 9th. Please hold John up in your prayers. Today will be rough for him.

Facing Fears (sorta)

On a recent trip we visited this beautiful old mill in Arkansas.

The drive to the mill is down the curviest road I have ever had the misfortune of traveling on. I tend to get carsick on winding roads so I took Dramamine, but that was no match for this road. As I fought back the waves of sickness threatening to embarrass me in front of our friends, I could almost hear it saying, "Ha-ha you silly human! I laugh in the face of your puny Dramamine!" Somehow by the grace of God (and my own stubbornness) I managed to make it all the way there without actually getting sick and I must say it was worth the trouble.

Dave and I walked around and shopped inside the mill. Then we bought a tiny loaf of bread about the size of his hand and went out to feed the geese and ducks we'd noticed on the way in. This brought back vacation memories from my childhood. I remember Chad, Shanna and I feeding, and then running terrified away from hungry, hissing geese while mom took pictures and dad snickered in the background. Good times, good times.

I felt relatively safe this time because the low stone wall we sat on had only one young goose and two pretty little ducks beside it. The ducks were sweet and the goose was a tad obnoxious. I thought of him as a teen goose. He ate and ate and ate and ate, stealing bread from the timid ducks and then coming back for more. He finally decided he was full and it was none too soon since we were down to only a couple of tiny slices bread.

Then he did the oddest thing. He walked over to a fence, threw his wings up in the air and started honking in this very loud and irritating manner. At first Dave and I couldn't figure out what he was doing, but then we saw the many, MANY grown-up geese come running our way and we figured it out. He had eaten his fill and was now letting the others know there was food to be had.

Well I looked at those geese with their wings up in the air running our way, then looked down at the two tiny pieces of bread we had left and all those childhood memories came rushing back. So I did what any sensible person would do.

I ran.

(You can stop laughing now Dad).

Dave of course sat there calmly (obviously never having been on vacation with my parents as a child) and told me to stop being silly and to sit back down. I reluctantly did so as the first of the geese arrived. After about six of them were fed, we ran out of bread. That's when they started hissing and flapping their wings. That's all it took to have me jumping up to run again, but Dave just grabbed my arm and told me to sit down.

You won't believe what happened next, but I swear it's true. After I sat back down (and started whimpering) Dave simply looked at the geese and said (in his principal voice), "Hey now, that will be enough of that. You settle down." And do you people know what those geese did?? They obeyed!! I am serious. They put their wings down and stopped hissing and calmly stood there looking at him like a little army of feathered soldiers. It was really cool (and just a little bit creepy). Secretly, I now call him the goose whisperer.

I wonder if they have a spot on Oprah for that...

Photographs by Lauren

Excuses

Wow. Long time no see! I'm truly sorry that I've neglected my blog (and you guys) for so long. When I sat down to write this I was going to blame my negligence on the fact that I was gone for week to the Dallas area to have some testing done on Lauren and then gone another week to help out at Camp Hackberry. I can't really say that though. If I am honest with you (and myself) I'd admit that being gone was an excuse for not writing, not the reason.

I am no therapist, but I think the reason I haven't been writing is because I've just been too sad. It's not like I'm sitting around crying and being miserable. No, it's not that at all. I've had a lot of fun moments this summer that I wanted to share with you...really I did, but when I'd sit down to write about them it was such an effort t0 be cheerful and happy sounding. I want this blog to be fun and happy, not sad and depressing. The weird thing is that I have absolutely nothing new to be sad about. Just the same two things as before.

Of course one is Shanna. It's been 170 days since she died. I should be better, but I'm not. Actually I am worse than I was right after she died. Why? I don't know!! I think maybe right after she died I just didn't let myself think about her and how much I missed her. I thought about sweet Tre and how worried I was about him. I thought about my mom and dad and how much I worried about them. I thought about John and Shanna's friends and my girls (who still dream about her many nights) and everything else I could think of BUT her. I wouldn't let myself listen to the songs from her funeral or look at her pictures or go to the cemetery. I just didn't want to deal with all that pain. It really hurts so why would I??

I don't know what changed, but now I can't stop thinking about her. Now I am the one dreaming about her and I never used to remember my dreams. Everything reminds me of her and sometimes I even think I see her. Once I slammed on my brakes because I thought I saw her in my rear view mirror and was about to back into her (I can't believe I just admitted that...I didn't even tell my family). Weird stuff like that. So my non-therapist mind has decided that I went too long without dealing with things and now, being the pain she always was, she's just decided to force me to think about her until I do deal with things. She always was stubborn. No really, probably something about all the down time in the summer makes it harder for me to hide from my thoughts and feelings.

The other issue, as you already know, is Lauren. I had such high hopes for getting her better this summer. Such high, high hopes! I have failed miserably at that. If anything she is worse. She is on a 1200 calorie diet (have you ever tried to starve a 13 year old? It ain't fun!) and is still gaining weight. Granted we took a break from that at camp, but still her original purple stretch marks (hallmark symptom of Cushing's Disease) are multiplying at a frightening rate. I fear at any moment she'll turn into a purple version of an Umpaloompa!

We are still testing and I know eventually we'll get to a point to where she can have surgery, but it's obviously not going to be this summer. I am so sad about that and mostly I am sad because she is. She doesn't feel good and she doesn't like how she looks. She can't fit into any clothes that I buy her. She is just too big around (also classic symptom of Cushings). Her face looks all swollen and she is just flat out depressed about it. I can't remember the last time she was with a friend. It was way, way before school was out. I don't really think she has a friend. Nobody calls or texts or contacts her and it hurts her feelings. She just thinks nobody wants to be with a fat, sick person. I try to point out that she doesn't contact them either, but she's not really listening to anything but what the image staring back from the mirror is telling her. I hate that because she is such a beautiful person. She should be having fun and being young. She can't ride her bike. She can't walk to take pictures. She can't swim. She just can't be a kid.

So there you have it. The reason I haven't written is because I was being a big baby, and I probably still am, but I promise to try and write more so you guys don't worry.

Love ya!

Sorry!

Hey ya'll. Just leaving a quick post to say sorry for being gone so long and to let you know I'll be gone a bit longer. We are out of town for the week because Lauren needed some tests done that can't be done at home. That's not really why I'm not posting though. I guess I'm just a little tired right now and I don't want to splash my blues across your own happy colorful lives.

Anyway, I miss you guys. I'll be back soon. If you get a chance when you are praying for Lauren and wisdom for her doctors would you throw out a prayer for me too? I'm just really discouraged and down about how hard of a time I am having getting Lauren help. I know she is sick. The doctors know she is sick. This shouldn't be so hard. I'm very frustrated and I think she is feeling like I am frustrated with her, but I'm not. I'm just weary of the continual tests and weary of seeing my child suffer.

One more prayer...Tre (my six year old nephew) is here with us and he broke his back today (he has the same bone disease my sister had). He is in a lot of pain and can't walk without screaming and crying. It's hard to see him like this and makes us all (especially him) miss his mom. Nobody takes the place of your mom when you are hurt or sick.

Okay, that's all for now. I did a terrible job of keeping my blue hue to myself didn't I? I promise to be sunshiny and full of cheer when I post again.

Love ya!

They don't call it being a chocoholic for nothing!

If somebody had told me you could get shot glasses full of chocolately goodness (instead of nasty tasting alcohol) I'd have started drinking years ago!



Brookie is enjoying a 'sweet shot' (I think that's what they are called) from Chili's. They have a variety of desserts in shot glasses for those times when your tummy is too full for an entire dessert, but you still want something sweet. Brookie chose chocolate. Duh. She is my daughter after all!

Celebrate good times (come on)

Wow. Has it really been three days since I posted? I'm terribly sorry inter-buddies. Terribly. I had to go out of town and then never really found a chance to write. We were some of that busy this weekend on account of the fact that Sunday was a double celebration for us.

The first occasion worth a bit of celebrating was Father's Day. We went to my parent's house this year because it was Dad's first Father's Day without Shanna and because my dad is the bestest Daddy that was ever made and don't try to argue with me cause I ain't listening. No I'm not. Should you even try to tell me otherwise I'll just stick my fingers in my ears and go la la la la la la in a most annoying manner because I know I'm right.

And because I'm mature like that.

The other happy occasion was our 17th anniversary. Yes, you read that right. Seventeenth. I'll just give you a moment to do the mental math and figure out how old I was when I got married.

If you came up with ten you are absolutely right. I was ten years old when I got married and now I am only 27 years old. Okay, not really. I was 18. It was two weeks after I graduated from high school.

No I was not pregnant!

Shame on you. Don't try to look innocent. You know you were thinking it. Actually one of the reasons I got married so young was the very reason I couldn't be pregnant. Dave is old fashioned (and I was too) and there was no hanky panky til we got married so we were in a hurry, IN A REALLY BIG HURRY PEOPLE, to get married. I'm sure you can figure out why. It's no wonder people date for so long these days...they are already having their cake and eating it too (wow that sounded dirty), but we weren't so we were sorta anxious to get the eating of the cake (I swear this isn't a dirty metaphor, get your mind out of the gutter).

Anywho, we've been married for 17 years (and I am 35, not 27...sniff, sniff). It doesn't seem possible that we've been married that long. The years have flown by and with each passing year I've grown to love Dave more and more. The older I get the more I appreciate all the wonderful, solid qualities that make him the man he is. I can honestly say that I love him more now than I did on the day we wed.

I used to think there weren't many couples who felt that way, but then I moved to this wonderful little town and joined this wonderful little church and I saw just how happy people can be in a marriage...even after 25 years...or even after 50 years! Our church family is full of couples who have stood the test of time and they are still full of joy and happiness. That inspires me. Not a Sunday goes by that I don't see one of the couples smiling in a certain way or looking at each other just so and I know that will be Dave and me some day. That makes me happy in my pants (I didn't mean it like that, there you go with your dirty mind again...geez).

I thank God for giving me a man like Dave to share my life with. I pray that my girls will find good, Godly men to share their lives with someday...

someday a long, long, LONG time from now.

I'm so proud!

You have got to see what Tammie and I spent the evening doing. It is so amazingly awesome!

We were tired and hot and didn't know what we were doing, but we persevered. We even went to Buds For You (the local flower shop) and they let us use their helium tank to fill 60 balloons. They didn't even let us pay them for the helium!

You totally rock Buds For You.

Speaking of people that rock, a sweet sister from our church stopped by to tell me she'd been thinking about me and reading my blog. I looked at her and I'm sure my mouth fell open as the last few posts I'd made ran through my mind. Those of you who don't know me very well must be appalled at some of the things I say. Just so you know I am a big kidder, but it's all in fun and love. Like yesterday when I talked about the farts...it was all in jest. And the getting high thing? TOTALLY a joke...I've never been high. I've never even been drunk. So please don't be offended at my silliness. Okay? Are you pickin' up what I'm throwin' down? Are we square?

Good. I feel better. Thanks for letting me get that off my keyboard.

Okay, back to the balloons. Tomorrow is the last day of VBS so we wanted to do something special and I think the children are going to love it! Every day they put a balloon inside this beaker if they did their daily challenge (things like pray for a friend, or go for a walk and thank God for the things you see around you) and it was almost all the way full after today. So we made this awesome balloon thingie (yes, thingie...that's a technical term for us professional balloon sculptors) to make it look like their beaker was 'bubbling over'.

I don't mean to brag, but YAY US!

Know what else is worth bragging about? Around 25 children asked Jesus into their hearts today at VBS! Oh yes they did! I'm not even playin'. The actual story of Christ dying on the cross and the prayer asking them to raise their hand if they wanted Jesus in their heart happened in MY station.

No pressure there. None at all.

Yeah right.

I was a nervous wreck! For some reason saying the salvation prayer with people has always intimidated me. I think I worked through that fear today and the reward was incredible. I cried about 18 and a half buckets of happy tears today. God is so good!!!

Next time I'll just buy them floaties

Holy cow with a bell on! What a day, what a day. Today in my Bible Blast station at VBS we walked on water. It was a wacky, crazy day for my station and it was also a very. big. mess. Oh my what a mess it was. It took like three and a half days (or maybe just an hour) to clean up all the 'walking on water' residue (a.k.a. big, goopy, mess) that we made. It was totally worth all the work and mess and cleaning up though because I think the children really loved today's adventure and had a chance to really experience a Bible story.

It just might have been a little easier to handle all the chaos if they'd have let me sniff color with the permanent markers for a little while. I couldn't find them today though. I think somebody hid them.

I really can't imagine why.

The fun didn't stop with the walking on water either. Oh no it did not because we are all about the fun here! Next they got to go upstairs and make flarp in the science lab. You know the stuff...it's that goo that makes a big, loud, obnoxious fart sound when you put your fingers in it. Each child made a container of it to take home from VBS.

'Cause you know, nothing really says Jesus loves you like a humongo fart.

I know that every time I hear someone pass gas I just smile and say, "Why thank you! Jesus loves you too." Or maybe I say, "Oh my gosh David! You smell like the hind-end of a sick skunk and if you do that one more time your butt in sleeping outside with the other skunks!"

Whatever. It's practically the same thing and it's all said with love.

Ahem.

Moving right along...I received an email from the neurosurgeon that we want to do Lauren's surgery (if we ever finally get to that point) and he said that he sees not one, but two areas that are hypo intense that could both be tumors. Or they may not be. Right. That's real clear. So where does that leave us? Relying on the endocrine testing to tell us we need surgery. That would be just fine if her symptoms weren't cyclic. But they are so now we have to catch things when they are 'high' and get enough 'high' results in a row to get the insurance company and even some of the doctors convinced that it's time for surgery. To me we've had plenty of 'highs', but I'm not a doctor and I do appreciate that they are being cautious. They can't go around ordering brain surgery all willy-nilly. I am just a tad anxious to get this over with and to get my baby better!

Please just continuing praying for wisdom (on both our part and that of her doctors) and also pray for patience while we wait. She sure doesn't feel very well a lot of the time and that makes patience just pretty darn hard to come by.

Tre is hollering for me to come play Club Penguin with him. Again. For the thousandth time. Can you tell I am excited?

I'll talk to you interpeeps later. Til then love and farts ya'll...love and farts (that means Jesus love you...in case you forgot).

If the Holy Land really was holey...

it would probably be made out of boxes and look a little something like this:





Only hopefully a little less crooked. What can I say? I'm no architect. Plus those permanent markers can put off some mighty strong fumes. Is getting high still wrong if you are getting high for Jesus?

Kidding! I wasn't high at all! Just ask the pink elephants with mohawks and hula skirts that flew in through the window while I was working, they'll totally tell you that I was NOT high.

I KID!

Okay, I'll stop now. I am really kidding and I don't want to get a call from my mom. I had the door open most of the time, and while it did stink (and I did get a headache), nobody got high.

It took me several hours to make that little village for VBS. I am in charge of 'Bible Blast' where the kiddos get to become part of the Bible stories. I am really excited about the start of VBS today. I know God is going to do great things!

Speaking of VBS...remember these 'atoms' I made for the science lab? Well yesterday I was trying to load them in Dave's truck (he had my suburban) and found that only two would fit inside the truck at one time. So I went back inside with one of them, grabbed a few more items to take to the church and came back out to the truck. Only when I got back to the truck there was only ONE atom there. These things are huge and I knew for a fact that I'd put in two. Like an idiot I looked under the seat, in the back seat, and in the glove box (not really), but it was nowhere to be found.

Someone stole my atom. They stole it...an ATOM. Can you believe that? I can't. I'm still trying to figure out some other explanation. I mean who steals an atom? Is there a big demand for atoms made of balloons out on the street that I'm not aware of?

I was pretty disgusted. Those things may look retarded, but I spent a LONG time making them. Then when I went back in to get another one to take the place of the missing atom, the wind caught it and it blew across the yard and a bunch of the balloons popped.

ARGH!

Things were not going well on the atom front. What in the world was going on? Maybe God was trying to save me some embarrassment by destroying my atoms.

If only He'd seen my cardboard village first, He wouldn't have bothered.

Science was never my thing

I spent a good part of the morning making atoms out of balloons (well, a blonde's version of an atom) for VBS and let me tell ya, it wasn't easy. Those suckers are complicated! I totally gotta give God some props for creating the real deal!

Go God!

You rock!

Way to make the universe!!

Here is a picture of some of my 'atoms'. Aren't they adorkable?

Yeah, I know. I think this pretty much proves that God isn't a blonde.

The post without a point

I'm bored.

How was that for an interesting start to a post? My girls are out of town and living it up at Nana's and I am home alone. I should be jumping for joy and living it up myself, but I pretty much just miss them. They ARE my joy. Without them I don't really feel like jumping.

So to pass the time I decided to write a post. Then I sat here thinking and realized that I don't have a thing to post about without my kids around. How sad is that? They are the Drama in Mama of a Whole Lotta Drama. Just about the only excitement around here was me trying a new kind of pizza...spinach and portabella mushroom pizza...only I am skeptical about the pizza part because it was square. Pizzas should be round, not square. There is something just wrong about a square pizza.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

I'm so bored that I miss school already. I miss the kids and the hundreds of times a day they make me smile. Like the other day when I was walking down the hall and this cute little fourth grader named Kellen walked by. He was dripping sweat and his little face was bright red. He looked like he was about to melt so I said, "Wow Kellen, you look hot." He looked right at me and without missing a beat said, "thank you." It took me a moment to realize that he thought I was calling him hot...as in HOT (I'm getting old and there is a language barrier developing between me and the kiddos). I laughed and told him that I meant he looked hot from the sun outside and he said, "Oh. Yeah, it is hot outside." How can I not love my job?


I just hope he didn't go home and tell his mama that I was hitting on him. I gave up hitting on fourth graders, oh...back when I was in the fourth grade. Or at least when I got married. That totally put a crimp in my fourth grade love affairs.

And in conclusion to this exciting post filled with fourth grade mix-ups and freaky square pizzas I will share with you the new wallpaper on my laptop. I love it.

Results

Well we finally have the results from Seattle, though I'm not sure how much good they are going to do us. Here they are:

They lost one of her 24 hour urine tests, but the one they didn't lose was high (by high I mean high enough to indicate Cushings).

She had four serum cortisols drawn between midnight and four a.m. that came back high enough to suggest Cushings.

She had two high ACTH serum results that indicate Cushings.

She had a high prolactin test that indicates a problem with her pituitary.

This is all good news. I always thought she had Cushings, but I needed to prove it to get her some help. Now we know that I was right and that she does have Cushings. I am sad that there is something wrong, but glad to know for sure what it is so we can attack it and get her better.

The bad news is that they are cautious about sending someone to brain surgery (I can't blame them for that) and since she is so young they are even more cautious than usual. That means they want to test a little longer and get some more highs before they recommend surgery. I am not as cautious as they are I guess. She is my baby and I want her better NOW.

So I am not sure what step is next for us. We are still praying and talking about it. We are continuing to test for sure, but we are thinking about asking for an IPSS. This is not a fun test. They go in a vein in both legs and go all the way up into her sinus area, inject her with the same CRH that made her so sick before and then take samples from what her pituitary is putting out. This could give us a lot of valuable information, but like I said it wouldn't be fun. So it's a big decision.

Her MRI has been sent to MD Anderson so the doctor that we want to do the surgery can look at it. He is very good at seeing tumors in the pituitary that other people can't see. The radiologist in Seattle couldn't see that her tumor was back. That doesn't mean it isn't. Her symptoms and tests show that it is. However in fifty percent of Cushing's patients they have to do surgery to find the tumor. A very small growth can cause Cushings.

Please pray for wisdom on our part and continued high test results to speed this process along. We want Lauren to feel good for a change. I don't think she even knows what that is. She has been sick for so long.

Oh no he didn't

Dr. Ludlam's office called with Lauren's results while I was out buying VBS supplies. Dave didn't answer the phone. Yes, you heard me right.

HE DIDN'T ANSWER THE PHONE.

He said he'd rather I talked to them. So now I have to wait until tomorrow to hear what they have to say. I guess that's okay since I won't have time to talk to them tonight anyway. I will be terribly busy building a dog house for my husband to sleep in. It's not going to be one of those hoity toity dog houses either. You know, the kind with the air conditioning and the fluffy little beds. Oh no, he's sleeping in a crappy dog house like my dogs had when I was growing up. Only I'm not putting in hay to make a soft bed like my dad did for our dogs. No, that's too good for him.

Oh I kid. I'm not that mean.

I will add the hay.

Kidding!!! Geez, what kind of monster do you think I am? I would never tell my husband to sleep in a dog house. I'm not that kind of wife. I am kind, loving and compasionate.

He can have the couch.


My VBS shopping went okay. I'm all finished now and have everything I need for next week. I felt kinda odd buying some of the stuff on my list though. Like the 24 boxes of corn starch. I think I've bought a total of one box of corn starch in 17 years of marriage. So it's no surprise that when I was checking out and stacking all 24 boxes on the conveyor belt that it raised some eyebrows. It's also no surprise that I was insulted when the woman in line behind me asked if I ate a lot of cream pies. I guess I shouldn't have told her that she wasn't going to blow away anytime soon either.

What? How was I supposed to know you used corn starch in cream pies??

I am totally kidding. I didn't say that to her, but I did momentarily wonder why she thought I looked fat. Granny would be ashamed. I should learn to make pies.

The girls and I went to see Made of Honor today before I did my shopping. Lauren wanted to see Made of Honor. Brookie wanted to see the new Narnia film. I just based my decision on which movie to see on what was showing the quickest after we got there. It turned out to be Made of Honor, which was fine by me, but not so fine by Brookie. About ten minutes into the movie she said, "This Narnia doesn't look anything like the first one."

She's in the Gifted and Talented program at school ya'll. I bet you can see why.

Okay. I better go. It's hard for Dave to know I'm giving him the silent treatment when I'm in the other room writing in my blog. I better go in the living room so I can ignore him properly.

If you are going to do something, you might as well do it right.

I'm such a big chicken...or is it turkey?

I'm a scaredy cat. It doesn't take much to have me hiding under the covers in fear of some unseen boogey man. (Don't ask me why people like me pull the covers over our heads when we are frightened. That not only makes us chicken, but it makes us stupid as well. There is no way a thin little sheet is going to save us from any monster...unless it's a killer drier sheet).

Anyway.

I've been a little extra jumpy since we returned from Seattle. I have a good reason too. There was a haunted elevator that kept trying to kidnap me. No really there was. Every time I got on that particular elevator and pushed the first floor it would take me to the basement, but the door wouldn't open. Then it would take me up to the fourth floor (or some other floor...it varied) and the door wouldn't open. It was very creepy and more than once I ended up pressed against the door saying, 'let me out!'

Like I said, I'm a scaredy cat.

But it really is true! That elevator had it in for me. Mom and Lauren sat there and watched it stop on the first floor once and then not open. They were waiting on me and they couldn't figure out why the door wasn't opening. What they didn't know was that I was on the other side once again saying, 'let me out!' Of course Lauren didn't help matters by telling me it was probably haunted by an ancient Swedish Nun and mom didn't help by waiting until it was quiet on the elevator and then jumping around, cupping her face with her hands and yelling, 'boogida-boogida-boogida'. After that I really hated that elevator.

So you can see why I was a little jumpy when I got home from the trip what with all the haunted elevators and scary ancient nun stories. I mean who was to say the nun didn't follow me home? She could have jumped into my suitcase. She may be running (or floating) amuck in my house looking for an elevator to lock me in. Only HA! The jokes on her. I don't have an elevator.

Anyway, this current jumpiness led to me screaming in horror and almost wetting my pants early this morning in my own home. I was up early and doing some housework when I ran across one of Dave's windbreakers that needed to be hung up. I grabbed it and went into the front hall to place it in the coat closet. I didn't turn on the light because the girls were still asleep. Instead I reached into that dark and shadowy closet, praying there weren't spiders or nuns and groped around for a hanger.


Only instead of a hanger my hand wrapped around something really weird feeling. I peered into the darkness and saw a beedy eye staring at me from a severed head. Like any rational adult would do I screamed at the top of my lungs, ran like fool and jumped under my covers. After a little while when no severed head came after me with killer drier sheets I worked up the nerve to go back and get a closer look at whatever was staring at me in the dark closet. I turned on the light and saw this:




It's a turkey decoy my husband uses for hunting. I'm thinking of sicking the nun on him. This is all his fault.

Loving this Loving Award

Not too long ago I received this lovely award not once, but twice!







Isn't it adorable?? I KNOW! I totally think so too. First I received the award from Angie over at John Deere Mom and I was SO excited...just tickled pick I tell you. Then a few days later I received it again from Sarah over at Reading Teachers Rock. Then I was even more tickled...so much so that I had cute little brown spots on my tickled pink self (I just LOVE brown and and pink together). And yes, that really is the name of her bog. I didn't even pay her to say that. Why would I have to? Reading teachers DO rock, and of course we are also extremely humble.



So now I am supposed to pick a few blogs that I love to pass the award along to. I must admit I am woefully behind on reading blogs (and writing on my own), but I still know which blogs I love. So here's my list and it is filled with wonderful, loving women that I am very blessed to know.



Lama Mama

Mom Mom's Rant

For the Love of Home

Mindless Junque

The Jackson Journey

Tara

Tammie

WeevilMaw


If you ladies want to play along all you have to do is post this award on your blog and pick some of your favorite blogs to brag about. Not that I know a thing about bragging...I'm just a humble little reading teacher that ROCKS.

There's No Place Like Home

We are home! Yippee Skippee!!!

And home it is. This little town has never felt more like home than it does at this moment. I am so awed and overwhelmed by the outpouring of love and support we've received by friends, co-workers and our church family. Everyone has been so amazing.

And we needed it...not the money so much (although there is NO way we could have made the trip to Seattle and back without the love offerings we received), but more the reminder that God loves us. Oh we never really forgot that He loves us, but I for one was letting myself feel a little 'forgotten' by God. I feel ashamed admitting that after the incredible way the Thompson family have kept their faith through their recent trials, but I am just being honest. I used to have a full well of faith. I kept my faith while Shanna suffered all through our childhood and on into adulthood. I kept my faith through five miscarriages. I kept my faith through both girls being very ill at birth and spending time in NICU. I kept my faith through Lauren's open heart surgery and later through the finding of her brain tumor...

But when Shanna died, well I guess I started losing a little bit of my faith. I wasn't really angry with God. I was more hurt. Yes, that's the word. Hurt. My parents have always served God selflessly and raised us in Church. We always believed God could preform a miracle in Shanna's life and keep her here with us, allowing her to be a great witness of His awesome power.

Only He didn't heal her. She suffered her entire life and then died, leaving us (and her wonderful son Tre') to deal with her loss. I found myself starting to ask God why. Why didn't He heal her? Why did He let her suffer so long if He wasn't going to ultimately heal her? Why? Why? Why? When Lauren starting having these horrifying problems lately (problems that I haven't really covered on the blog out of respect for her wishes), I really started feeling abandoned. I wanted to have faith that God could heal Lauren, but I'd watched my sister suffer and then die...my well of faith was running close to empty.

Then the trip for Seattle came up and the people of Munday reminded me exactly how much God loves us. I felt His love through them and their many kindnesses. God does love us and He is in total control of this situation with Lauren. Through their love my well has been refilled. I will forever be grateful for that.

I know you are wondering how Lauren is doing and I'd have to say that overall she is doing very well. During her last test they gave her an injection of Corticotropin-releasing hormone (crh) to stimulate her pituitary tumor (or whatever is causing the ACTH/Cortisol to be so high) and then drew blood every fifteen minutes to see how she reacted. As soon as they gave her the injection she felt like a horse had kicked her in the chest. She felt like she couldn't breathe at all. That passed though and she seemed fine. Then she started turning bright red and got sick to her stomach. The trip home was no picnic for her (although she didn't complain much at all) but she got to know the bathrooms at the airport very well and still feels sick today (three days later). She is still a little red and this afternoon she started having a lot of trouble with her seizures. I have no idea if that is from the CRH or just a coincidence.

We won't know the official results from the test for two weeks when Dr. L calls. I've seen about half of the test results (I had them printed off in medical records again before we left) and so far she has seven test results that are indicative of Cushing's Disease (high cortisol and high ACTH). I can't wait to see the rest of the results and hear what Dr. L suggests we do next. He sent home several tests to do at home and while we wait we will start on those.

Thanks again for all the prayers and support!

Thursday

Wow, what a night! I have no clue what is wrong with her, but Lauren had an awful night. This was the first night we didn't have to get up and go to the infusion center for tests so I was hoping for a good night of rest for Lauren. Instead what she had was a night full of pain, crying and quite a bit of panic on her part. For some reason she had this weird pain/burning all through her chest. She had a lot of trouble describing it to me as it was not something she'd experienced before. I never did figure out what was wrong. She tried laying on both sides, sitting up, standing up...well, we tried everything. I still don't really have a good grasp on what the pain felt like because she couldn't describe it and was too upset to really try. Ugh. It was NOT fun.

She finally fell asleep around four this morning and has slept well (I have been up watching her like a hawk). My guess is that the dexamethosone that they have her on for tomorrow's stim test is causing this pain. If that is the case it is going to be a very long day and night. She has to continue taking the dex all day today and through the night. Gosh, if made her that sick after the first two doses I am afraid of what seven will do.

Anyway, back to the actual update. We did meet with Dr. Ludlam last night. We didn't leave his office until after six. I can't say he was the friendliest or most encouraging man in the world, but he seems to really know his stuff and that is all that matters. He said we are assuming this is Cushing's Disease and will continue testing until we prove it (which is the only way to get clearance for surgery). He didn't have any of her test results back yet from this week and said he'd call in two weeks after everything was in so he would have the 'big picture' before he talked to us. We were given a kit of home testing stuff (poor Dr. Finley is going to be a busy man) and he told us to expect to be testing a lot because that's how things went with diagnosing cyclic Cushings. The trick is to figure out your cycle. We will be charting every symptom she has while we test. Then we get her 'highs' back, we go back and look at her symptoms. From that point on we try just testing when she has the same symptoms again. This will ensure more 'highs' and makes things easier with the insurance company.

Okay, now for the rest of my news. Remember when I said Dr. Ludlam didn't have any results back from the lab yet? Well I do! I went down to medical records and asked the nice man that works there to pull up anything the lab had entered into the computer and he printed what they've finished so far off for me. Yay! (Shhhh. Don't tell Dr. Ludlam. I don't want to make him angry. I just want to know what's wrong with my baby and two weeks is a looonnnnggg time to a worried mom). Really the only thing back from the round the clock draws is the Cortisol levels...well, some of them. Here is where I will get a tad technical and do a terrible job of explaining things:

Cortisol is high during the day and non-existent at night for most people. It should be <1 at the 12:30 a.m. and midnight draws. Dr. Ludlam considers anything over 1 to be high and anything over 5 to be highly suggestive of Cushings. Lauren had FOUR that were over five in just two nights of late night draws. Her really low numbers showed up during the daytime. This is also suggestive of Cushings because people with this disease have diurnal rhythms that are out of whack (out of whack is a medical term...let me know if you need translation).

Also her prolactin level was very high. This is the hormone that tells your boobs that it is time to become milk factories when you have a baby. This should not be high for Lauren. She isn't expecting a baby and plans to be a vet, not a factory worker. The cause of high prolactin is almost always a pituitary tumor. (Lauren doesn't have milk production yet, but she complains of extremely itchy boobs ALL the time).

Everything I wrote above was just my motherly take on things. I am not a doctor and I have no idea how Dr. Ludlam will interpret those results. Also if you are reading this because of a google search on Cushings or something...seriously, I am NOT an expert or a doctor, just a worried mom that's done a lot of research. So please remember that only your doctor can explain this stuff to you properly.

End disclaimer.

Anywho- today is Lauren's MRI and CT scan. I am hoping that if the tumor really is back that it shows it's ugly mug as plain as the circles under my sleepless eyes (that's really plain folks).

I think that's all for now. I need to get back to staring at my kid.

Hugs and love to you all!

Wednesday

I want to clarify something. A friend told me last night that my last post sounded 'weird'. When I asked what they meant they said that it sounds like I want Lauren to be sick.

That is absolutely not true!

Lauren is already sick. I wish she wasn't, but she is and the disease she has is cyclic. That means she has days that the tumor doesn't secrete at all. I was just trying to say in my last post that I am afraid that the tumor won't secrete at all this week and this trip won't be very fruitful. It's not that I want her to be sick ever. I don't...never, ever. But if she is going to be sick I want it to show up while we are here having these tests done.

Clear as mud?

As for today it has not been a very eventful day. We were up at 12:00 a.m. and 12:30 a.m. for blood draws and a saliva test. Then again at four and eight for blood work and to finish up another 24 hour urine test. We are meeting with Dr. Ludlam later today and starting some test that requires her to take dexamethasone every six hours through Friday and then they will inject some other type of medication into her (that will make her really sick) and they will draw blood every thirty minutes for a few hours to see how her pituitary is reacting to the injection. I anticipate lots of seizures from this test. If she has too many seizures part of her brain shuts down and she looks like she had a stroke. It's scary when that happens. The last time it did we spent a week in the epi unit.

I will post again after we meet with Dr. Ludlam.

Thanks so much for all the prayer and support. You are all so amazing!

Tuesday

Today was a good day. Well it was good unless you are the alarm clock in our room, in which case you might have been hit once or eight times. We are in the middle of 32 hours of blood draws that started at 12:01 this morning. We have to get up, get dressed, go down to the Ambulatory Infusion Center, get the tests done, go back to our room, lay down, close our eyes, hear a loud beeping and beat the alarm clock and then get up and start it all again. We repeated this process several times last night and today (minus the part about getting dressed...eventually we just went in our pj's). We will be testing the same way tonight and all day tomorrow. It's quite exhausting.

Lauren is feeling pretty well. She still has some pain where the PICC line was put in, she had some chest pressure/pain after a cortysn stim test, and some dizziness when walking around. Other than that she has had nothing negative to say.

Unless you think calling the alarm clock a doodie head is negative.

Tomorrow we meet with Dr. Ludlam. I think I told some of you that we have the CT scan and MRI tomorrow, but I was mistaken. Those happen on Thursday. Tomorrow is just lots more blood work and the doctor's appointment.

I must admit I am ready to go home already. I miss Dave and Brookie. Plus the TAKS scores came in and I wasn't there to congratulate my students (who all did really well on their reading tests). I'll just have to give them big hugs when I get back.

I have met a few women here with Cushings. One girl went through this week long testing protocol three times with no high results to help her get to surgery. She finally got high results testing at home and is heading to surgery next week. It worries me to hear that kind of story. So many people helped with this trip and I feel like expectations are high for something big to happen on this trip. I hope we do get to the bottom of things quickly, but I'm worried it won't go that smoothly and people won't understand.

Oops...Brookie is calling from Mrs. Wilson's house (that's where she is staying tonight). Talk to you guys tomorrow!!

quick update

Hello internets! Whew. What a day. It was by far the easiest testing schedule that Lauren will have all week. All we had to do was some blood tests, start a 24 hour urine, and get a PICC line put in. Everything went beautifully when they put in the PICC line. It seemed almost too good to be true and of course, it was.

About 45 minutes after they put in the PICC line and let us go back to our room we received a call from the Ambulatory Infusion Center. The radiologist looked at Lauren's chest x-ray and was not happy with the way the line curved at the end. Apparently it was too close to her heart. So they asked us to return immediately to have it repaired. I must admit this scared me a little, but I shouldn't have worried. They fixed it up and sent us on about our way. It was no big deal.

While we were in getting the PICC line we met another patient that is undergoing the same tests Lauren is. She was very nice. She ended up taking us around and showing us a few sites (she is local). Today was her birthday and we took her out to eat for dinner.

Lauren's PICC line is very sore. She feels like the tube is poking her. They said it is probably hitting exposed nerves which can be painful. She is icing the cut they made and taking pain medication. We hope it feels better by tomorrow.

We start more testing tonight (well technically tomorrow morning) starting at 12:00 a.m. She will test again at 12:30 a.m. and 4:00 a.m. and then 800 a.m. and noon (and so on and so forth). For the next 36 hours she will be testing around the clock. Sometimes it is just blood draws. Sometimes it is urine or salivary collections or stim tests.

Thanks for the prayers and nice notes. We love you all.

Prayer Request

I was halfway done with a light and fun post when I received a text from home (we are in the hospital in Seattle right now) saying that two brothers from the town where I live were in an accident. They are both wonderful people with wonderful families and beautiful sweet, children. Neither are doing well at all. Obviously I stopped writing my post and turned my attention to praying. If you read this, whether you know them or not, please, please pray for these men. Their names are Tyler and Trey. They need all the prayers they can get right now.

I had so much to tell everyone, but that will have to wait. For now here is a quick update on us. We made it safely to Seattle and are settled in at the hospital. Tomorrow is by far our easiest day of the week. Lauren has a few tests first thing in the morning (just starting a 24 hour urine test and having a few blood tests done). Then at one she has her PICC line put in. She is really nervous about this, but I know she'll do great. Then I think we are done for the day. We will start her blood draws and the other tests at 12:01 a.m. on Tuesday and will have to report to the lab four or five times before dawn for tests (and then she'll have lots more during the day Tuesday).

I will update again tomorrow night. Please pray for Trey and Tyler.

Does Midol come in chocolate flavor?

As soon as I get the girls straightened out I have got to get myself to the girly doctor, and by girly doctor I mean the one that has the stirrups and the gloves (sorry Dad) (and any other unsuspecting male that stumbled upon my blog). I need to get my hormones checked out. Something weird is going on. It could just be stress, but man, my body is going KUH-RAY-ZEE! I am emotional, my face is breaking out, and I have so many periods now that I could be the Declaration of Independence. Only if I were it would read something like this...

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Chocolate.

Don't be offended. It's just the hormones talking. Plus, the words chocolate and happiness are pretty much interchangeable anyway.

Speaking of happiness, my mom gave me the prettiest bracelet for a belated birthday present last weekend which made me very happy. It was made of sterling silver beads and would have gone with just about everything. Notice how I used the past tense when I described my new bracelet? I bet you are wondering why. I know my mom is.

Well, it's like this. I was in the bathroom today at work and when I was finished taking caring of my girly business (sorry again Dad) (and random strange men) I went to wipe and my bracelet slipped right off my wrist and landed in the potty with an impressive splash that my bottom did not appreciate. I sat there for a moment in stunned silence, looking down at my beautiful new bracelet resting at the bottom of the toilet. I wanted to reach right down and grab it, but ewww. So I thought to myself, oh I know! We have gloves in the nurses office. I'll just run and grab a pair of those and then fish it out. My brilliant plan would have worked too, but I was forgetting one thing.

Automatic toilets.

Yes, that's right. Our school went all twenty-first century this summer and as soon as I stood up it was bye-bye bracelet, hello Christy screaming in horror and jumping around with her pants around her ankles.

Curses on you futuristic toilet! Did it ever occur to you that I might not be finished pottying yet? Maybe I was just getting up to stretch or maybe my left cheek was going to sleep and I needed to move around a little or MAYBE, just MAYBE my lovely new bracelet that my mom gave me for my birthday fell into your evil, watery bowels (no pun intended) and MAYBE I wanted it back. But noooo, you just had to get into a hurry to show off and flush before I was ready.

Okay. It just occurred to me that I was talking to a toilet. A toilet that I seriously doubt reads my blog. See what I mean by hormonal?

All men may be created equal, but all toilets are not.

(And I could really use some of that chocolate about now)

Rambling

Here are a few more pictures taken by Lauren. I may have posted the picture of Madame Dog already. It is one of my favorites. It always makes me smile. I can imagine how Lauren looked trying to lay under that squatty little dog just to take that shot.

I can't believe it is less than a week until we leave for Seattle. I am both excited and nervous. I am nervous because I have met some other mothers of children with Cushing's Disease so I have a pretty good idea of what is in store for Lauren this week. It won't be a fun week for her. In fact it will be a really rough week. Of course I am excited because this is the first big step on the path to Lauren's cure. She has been sick for so long. To the outside observer one would think she was healthy. She doesn't whine or carry on about her pains, seizures or the mental effects of her illness. She puts on a happy face and does her best to enjoy each day. She deserves a normal, healthy life. She shouldn't have to fight for that, no child should have to fight for their basic health.

I spent a lifetime of watching my sister fight to feel good...a lifetime that at times seemed like a hundred lifetimes. She fought hard and was always a positive person, even in the most difficult of times. I see a lot of her in Lauren. Lauren dreams of her often at night. She loves these dreams. It makes her feel close to her Aunt Noo Noo. Sometimes I think Shanna is coming to visit Lauren in her dreams to help her through this rough time. That sounds like something she would do. She loved the girls so much.

I wish she would visit me too. I really miss her.

If I was any more thankful you'd have to stuff me for Thanksgiving

I took Brooklyn to the Nephrologist on Friday and things went very well. He doesn't think anything major is wrong (thank You God!), but sent her to the hospital for a renal ultrasound just in case. If nothing shows up amiss on the ultrasound he wants us to try six weeks of bladder retraining. He thinks she is never fully emptying her bladder and that is allowing bacteria to grow and I guess causing some type of protein to be there. So all we have to do is make her tinkle twice in the morning (about twenty minutes apart), twice around lunch and twice before bed. This is so she will learn what it feels like to have her bladder totally empty. Then we just go back and see if the protein is gone. If it's not, we start back at square one and look for a different answer. I have my fingers crossed that this is all that was wrong and we have nothing serious to deal with.

She hasn't been throwing up anymore either. That stopped a day before the Nephrologist appointment. Since she was feeling better I called and canceled Monday's appointment with the GI guy in Dallas. I can always get another appointment if the problem starts up again.

Whew! One sick child better and one to go. We leave next Sunday morning for Seattle. I am getting very nervous. She is going to have some pretty tough tests next week and I just pray, pray, and pray some more that they find everything they need to set up her surgery.

I have to share the most amazing thing with you guys. On Thursday before we left for my mom's house we checked the mail and there were three cards in there. The first was signed by our Sunday school class members and there was 1200.00 in it. The second was signed by another lady in our church (and others...it really said that...'and others') and it had 750.00 in it. The last wasn't signed at all and it had 300.00 in it.

WOW.

God is so good ya'll. I totally didn't know how we were going to make it through this month after buying the Seattle tickets. Then there has been all the driving back and forth to Dallas with Brookie (at a hundred dollars a trip), all of Lauren's medications, and other expenses that were just making me a nervous wreck. I was trying my very hardest to trust in God and not fret, but this is by far my biggest weakness. I just worry myself sick over things instead of having faith and trusting that God will meet our needs. I have no idea why I do this. He has never once let us down, but still I worry.

Dave is going to stand up at church Sunday and thank everyone, but I want to say it here too.

THANK YOU ALL! Thank you so very much. I cried when I opened the cards. Dave teared up. Lauren stood there with her mouth hanging open, just amazed that people cared that much about her to do this. Brookie asked for a hundred dollar bill. Sorry! Three out of four grateful hearts isn't bad though!

I know God is going to pour blessings down on each of you, just as you've blessed us.

Bottoms and Blessings

We had quite a bit of hullabaloo and excitement at our little elementary school today. The tornado siren went off in the midst of an awful storm. We have no basement in our school so we lined up all our precious little children in the hallways and had them bend over facing the walls and cover their heads with a book.

Yeah, I know. It's the best we can do in an emergency. Well, that and pray.

I don't get too nervous during storms, but at one point things looked pretty bad out the double doors of the school and I wondered if rows and rows of tiny butt cracks would be the last thing I'd ever see.

What?? What did you expect from hundreds of bend over children? All you could see of them was their cracks. It looked like the Texas Public School of Plumbing. All we needed was a few tool belts and some training in the art of overpricing.

No offense to the plumbers out there (or their cracks).

Although while we are on the subject of cracks (how did that happen again?) I'd like to make a suggestion. If you happen to be a plumber and you go out knowing full well that your crack will be making an appearance then might I suggest a little big of waxing? Naked crack is one thing, but naked crack with hair...well, that's a whole other (furry) animal.

Ahem.

What was I saying again? Oh yes, the tornado. We were blessed and the tornado missed our town and our school. We had a few power lines and trees down, but nobody was hurt (that I know of). The Lord is so good.

And now on to other important things.

Like my hair. It was pouring down rain when I got out of the shower this morning so I decided to just let it dry naturally. I have naturally curly (aka frizzy) hair so it is a big fat waste of time to fix it on a rainy or humid day. No matter how much I blow dry and straighten it, it still tries to go curly on me. So instead of fighting with it today, I just let it curl. I didn't think it looked all that bad...at least I didn't think it was all that bad until I got to school.

You'd have thought I'd grown a moustache and changed my name to Frank. They giggled. They stared. They pointed. They fainted.

Okay. I made that last one up. But they really did act shocked and somewhat appalled. One little third grader said, "Your hair is really too curly for me, but it works for you." I said, "It's not a new hairstyle. It will be back to normal tomorrow," and she was sooo relieved. She let out a huge breath and said, "Oh thank goodness."

So you live and learn. Today's lessons:

1. If you have a hairy crack, be sure and wax it. You never know when there is going to be a tornado. (Unless of course you are a plumber, in which case you can dress however you want and charge whatever you please).

2. Do not wear your hair in big, frizzy curls. This isn't the eighties.

3. I work with a wonderful group of women who put the safety of the children in their classes before their own safety without giving it a second thought.

4. I am blessed.

Brookie

Brookie and I made the eight hour round trip to Dallas to see the pediatric Urologist today. I couldn't wait to go so that I could find out what was wrong with her and stop worrying so much. Unfortunately I didn't find out anything. This doctor is sending her to two other doctors. One is a nephrologist (kidney specialist) and one is a GI doctor (abdominal specialist I think). The only thing I really learned was that there was still protein in her urine and that sometimes people just have that for no reason and it is nothing to worry about. We have to go to the nephrologist to find out if Brookie is one of those people. I can't wait to tell my boss that I have to miss even more work. That should be fun.

The good news is that the 'spells' of sickness and pain are getting farther and farther apart. She made it most of the day Saturday without getting sick. We walked all over an art festival in Austin and she had no problems. It wasn't until later that night at the One Act Play contest (where we placed second...woohoo) that she started throwing up again.

While we were at the festival Brookie had a caricature done of herself. She loves this picture. She thinks it is so cool to know what she'd look like if she were a cartoon. I told her if anyone should be in the funny papers it is her! Here is the picture she had drawn:

I won't know the dates for the other two appointments until tomorrow. I will be sure and let everyone know how they go. Thanks for all the prayers and well wishes!

Teacher Tales

When we got home from Wichita the other day we found a package of baby bottles in one of our Walmart bags. None of us picked them up and we had no idea where they came from. Maybe it's a sign from above. I certainly hope not. If God thinks I am going to have another baby He is barking up the wrong uterus. We are done. D. O. N. E.

I might have to delete that last statement. I don't want to be struck down by lightening for being flippant with God...or worse, struck down with triplets.


I was kidding anyway, more children would not upset me. It's Dave that would freak (hear that God? Strike HIM down with triplets, not me. Spread the saggage around. He'd look great with saggy man-boobs).

As for me, I adore children. They make me laugh. Just this week there was a picture of a hamster in a book at school and this little girl said, "That's where my uncle lives, New Hamster."

Get it? New HAMSTER. Only she wasn't kidding and how can you not love that? I still smile every time I think about it.

And then there was this sweet little fourth grader that I tutored in math over the summer. I worked with her quite a bit this school year as well. She is such a doll and she was worrying herself sick over the Math TAKS test. So yesterday I took a necklace that a good friend gave me for my birthday to school with me.

Here is a picture of it:

That little dot in the middle is a mustard seed. Well, I pulled her from class before the test and told her the Bible said that faith the size of a mustard seed can move mountains. I told her I wanted her to wear the necklace during the test and that when she started doubting herself she was to rub it to remind herself to have faith!

Her mom told me that later that day she said that the test was really hard and that she kept rubbing and rubbing my necklace, but that God never did tell her a single answer! I guess I failed at explaining the purpose of the necklace!

I could tell stories like this all day long. I am so blessed to have a job that lets me work with such amazing children all day long. Then I get to come home to two amazing girls of my own!

Just think of the fun I'll have after Dave has the triplets!

Sleepless in Texas

Boy howdy, being a mom can plum tucker a gal out! Brookie got sick Friday evening and by the middle of Saturday night she was really sick. The night was filled with much tossing and turning and screaming and crying and whining about not being able to sleep.

And then after I told Dave to go sleep in another room, there was still Brookie to deal with.

Oh I'm kidding. Dave didn't scream.

Much.

Finally on Sunday we decided to take Brookie to the ER. That is something I never do. I'm not one of those moms that runs off to the ER every time one of the kids sneezes or wheezes. I was really worried about Brookie though. She cried and writhed around for almost five hours during the night Saturday night holding her stomach like a porcupine was fighting it's way out of her belly button. Plus she hadn't kept a bit of food or drink down for 48 hours.

It turns out she just has a nasty virus. Praise God it wasn't something serious! Unfortunately there was still a high level of protein in her urine, but we already knew about that and we are getting it checked out with a specialist on May 5 in Dallas. So we are back home and she is still feeling poorly, but hopefully she will be well by morning.

I have even more to praise God about. Dr. Ludlam called Friday and told us that Lauren would be coming out to Seattle the week of May 19. She will be staying at the hospital five nights and will have a whole host of tests run. We are very hopeful that they'll find all that they need to refer her for surgery. Maybe by the end of the summer she'll be all better. Man that would be great!

You hear that God? We'd like Lauren better by the end of the summer. That's THIS summer. The summer of 2008.

That would be great. Thanks God.

(I'll be sure and pray that prayer, just in case God doesn't read my blog). (But I totally know He does.)

Apparently what's good for the farms, ain't so good for me

Last night the girls and I decorated the teacher's lounge for a little baby shower for our sweet school nurse. As we were leaving the school I opened the door and was greeted with the refreshing smell of recent rain. I smiled and said, "Oh yay! It rained. That is good news for the farmers." Brookie stopped walking, looked up at me, and said, "yeah, but it's not so good for your hair."

You can see what the priorities are in my household.

1. Mom's hair
2. Rain to nourish the crops
3. World hunger

Right. As long as my hair stays up there at number one we are doing A-OK.

Speaking of my hair, yesterday in a fourth grade reading group I had the children writing facts and opinions on dry erase boards. I told them to write a fact about me. One sweet little girl wrote, "Mrs. S has blonde hair," and then she wrote in parenthesis, "No offense." No offense??? Me thinks perhaps I should have been offended, but I am not sure why.

I guess I am just too blonde to figure it out.

And now that my hair and it's blonde attributes have been thoroughly covered (I know ya'll were all on the edge of your chairs reading that exciting stuff) I will give you a quick update on me and my world.

Because, you know, we've already established it's all about me (and good hair days).

Before I dive into the scoop about Lauren let me give a shout out to Brookie who couldn't be left out of the fun here at Camp Stress Mom Out. She hasn't been feeling so great for the past few weeks. It has never been anything really specific. She just says, "Mom, I don't feel good." When I ask what's wrong I get something like, "I just feel funny." Yeah. Doctors are great a diagnosing that. I pretty much chalked it up to needing a little of the attention we were dishing out to Lauren and loved on her and then went on my way. Well, about a week ago she got a little more specific and mentioned it burned when she went to the bathroom. I decided to run her by the clinic. If nothing else at least she'd know I cared. I think she was getting annoyed that I hadn't rushed her off to the doctor and I'd taken Lauren approximately 1,993,204 times.

So I took her in and they did a quick urinalysis for me and although she didn't have a bladder infection, she did have protein in her urine. No big deal, just come back in a week and do it again. We went back in a week (that was yesterday) and there it was again, protein. Suddenly it was a big deal. We go to a pediatric urologist on May 5. I'm sure it's nothing, but I am a little freaked out by it because that is just how I roll. I freak.

Let the freak times roll.

As for Lauren, well, it's a long story. She is going to go to Seattle to see Dr. Ludlam. He is a really well known endocrinologist that specializes in Complex Cushings. People come from all over the world to see him. We had a phone consult with him last week and I sent an email ahead of time showing pictures of Lauren's stretch marks, hump and red face (during a spell). I also sent some test results, a medical history time-line and a list of symptoms. He told me on the phone that he already thinks she has Cushings, he is just going to help us prove it so we can get her better. I'm all for getting that child better. She's been through enough.

So basically we'll go to Seattle for a week. She'll stay at the hospital there. They put in a picc line (or however it's spelled) and run a whole heck of a lot of tests. Then we come home and run a heck of a lot more. This is a very difficult disease to diagnose.

I'll let you all know when we are going as soon as I know. They are working on the logistics and will call as soon as things are set up.

Gotta finish getting ready for work now.

Peace, love and good hair days to you all.

n = embarrassment squared

As I was sitting there trying to help Lauren with her math (I say trying because Math is not my forte) I had a Math flashback...

It was my senior year in College and the only class all the way through four years of higher learning that gave me the least bit of trouble was college Algebra...and boy howdy did it ever give me trouble! In fact it was so difficult for me that I had to hire a tutor. The sad thing is that this tutor was a Sophomore in high school.

Yeah, I know...when it comes to math I am a few fries short of a happy meal.

And Happy Meals were exactly what I was afraid I'd be serving for a living if I didn't get help. That's what drove me to ask a mere 15 year old to help me with my course. His name was Lanny and his mom was my partner teacher that year. Lanny was tall, lanky, pimply and very shy. Looking back I feel sorry for the boy for having to spend so many afternoons explaining over and over again why N could equal Q and P could equal coocklydoodlydoo (as you can see the finer points of what Lanny taught me have stuck with me lo these many years).

This particular math flashback (what? Don't try and pretend that you don't have mathematical flashbacks) (it's not like I am weird or something) took place on a Saturday afternoon at my house. Lauren was about three and Dave must have been at a track meet or something because he wasn't home. We were over two hours into the studying (on a lesson that I am sure should have taken about ten minutes, but like I told you people, I am missing fries!) when Lauren walked into the room.

She was the cutest little tyke back then...all chubby cheeks and curly hair...and as always she was being perfect and wonderful...we barely knew she was around. That is why I didn't pay much attention when she walked up behind us at the table. I knew she was dragging something behind her, but I didn't bother to turn around and see what it was. After a few moments of being ignored she finally spoke up and said in her adorable toddler voice, "Mommy I haff somfin that you need."

Since I was in the middle of wrestling a big bear in the form of a math problem I didn't even look back at her. I just held out my hand and as soon as she placed something in my palm I said, "thank you baby." And then I placed the something on the table.

And then I looked at the something.

And then I almost died of embarrassment right there on the spot.

The 'something' she had been dragging around was a whole bunch of condoms still together in a row. And there they were on my table between me and a 15 year old kid!

I jumped up and grabbed those suckers and flew to my bedroom at warp speed to put them away. Then I came out and stammered a few dozen apologies to Lanny, who was suddenly beet red and wouldn't look me in the eye anymore.

I did go on to pass that math class and Lanny never even mentioned the incident to his mom (although I did). I suppose he was probably too embarrassed.

Now it's ten years later and the tables have turned. Suddenly I am the embarrassing one and Lauren is the one that has to worry about what I will do and say around her friends.

I must say, I am liking this much better than Algebra. Now if we only still used condoms I could REALLY embarrass her!