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!!!