The Throw Up Tales

Well, Tuesday ended up being a day of cleaning for me.   With an old house like ours, even after vacuuming, mopping, and straightening, it still doesn't always feel that different, but at least I know it's been cleaned.   I particularly enjoyed tidying up the bathroom, and hanging a mirror where the kids could see themselves while brushing their teeth, and even wiping all the way down to the base of the toilet.   I'm so glad that I spent all that time cleaning the bathroom (sense the sarcasm), because all Tuesday, Wednesday, and even today, the whole family has been seeing a closer side of the toilet than we'd like.    

Randy called me Tuesday from work, saying how nauseous he felt, and after hoping that none of us would get Asher's throw up bug, I was less than happy to hear it.    He continued working, at a slower pace, and came home and went straight to bed.   Later on, after I had gotten the kids in bed, River ran out telling me that Asher was throwing up in bed.   "Crap! Again?!"  were my immediate thoughts, seeing as it was the fourth day of this thing that was plaguing his little body.   Later on, it was me who was in and out of sleep, with only pictures of vomit waking me up.   Nice, huh?   I finally got up, and went to the toilet and did what I knew was coming no matter how hard I tried to deny it.    So, needless to say, the last couple days have not been fun. River came in this morning at 5, saying, "Daddy, throw up in my bed."     Poor sweetie.   She's still not feeling well.   

So, instead of being able to be "intentional" and have a fun week on our spring break, basically all we've been is cooped up in this sick house, laying on the couch and waiting for the plague to leave us alone.

With this whole sickness thing, though, I'm always confronted with my own selfishness.   The first thoughts even while helping my own children in their discomfort are often, "Uuggghh, I really don't want to get this."    or, "Don't breath, just don't breath.  And now go antibac your hands, and then go take a scalding shower to kill all the germs..."    Aren't I a terrible mother?!   But you know, with friends, the first thing you think of when you hear how someone else's kid is sick, is, "How long ago were we with them?   Shut!   I hope we don't get it!"    It's always about me, me, me.    It makes me sick.   (no pun intended)     And I see more than ever how much I need Christ.    What if he had thought, "You know, I really don't want to get icky sin all over me."   or, "I don't want to be beaten and tortured for something I didn't do."  or   "I think I'll stay away from all those sick people, because I really don't want to contract anything to keep me from my ministry."

I feel like our reaction to bad news or things that we can't control, is so often, "How will it effect me?  What does this mean for me?  How will I deal with this?    What will I do?"   Usually we aren't so likely to be selfless and think, "Oh, I wonder how I could help them?   or, I wonder how they're dealing with this.    How will they need help?"    If we do think this way, usually it is after all of the self-analysis, and self-induced situations have been thoroughly thought through, and meditated on.

But this morning, Randy and I were talking, and he said that as we were taking care of River this morning (holding her hair back, while she stood over the toilet, giving her a bath, changing her sheets, laying down in bed with her to help her fall back asleep) he thought about all the children that don't have anyone to take care of them while they're sick.   How they have to throw up on the street, and then do what?   No one strokes their hair, and rubs their face off with a cool wash cloth.   Who gives them a bath and tucks them back into bed.   And it is so sad to think of.    It wasn't with any guilt or condemnation as he was thinking of it, just more of a realization and compassion filling his heart for the little ones of this world who aren't as fortunate as our children.   So, in our sickness, even though it's no fun, and definitely not a part of life that I like, I'm thankful for our home, our beds, and our bathtub where we can all rest and recuperate.     And I pray for those on the street, that they would somehow know there is a Father who longs to comfort them.   To be a Father to them.   To love them.

Too Cold for Berks Today

Spring was her favorite season. When the Bradford Pears and Dogwoods start blooming, and the daffodils begin to pop their heads out after a long winter, when Easter is right around the corner, (or has just passed)... that's when I think of her more than ever. I always think of this picture, and have to pull it out. I love it because it represents her so much. Coming out of a springtime church service, searching in her purse for her keys, whistling whatever worship song got stuck in her head, walking in the warmer air with one of her many pairs of Berkinstocks on her feet.

She was a teacher, but not only to those in her class. Whenever she had her spring break, we would almost always take a trip down to the beach. When I would wake up on those mornings at the beach, usually I would find her sitting on the balcony of the condo, in the sun, with her big (and usually red) sunglasses on, reading a book. She would already have her bathing suit on, with her straps pulled down off her shoulders. I would lean down and give her a kiss, and smell her hawaiian tropic that she had faithfully put on. Even in the early morning sun, she would soak so much in that her chest and nose would begin to turn pink. She would ask me how I had slept, and if I wanted whatever yummy thing she had brought out for breakfast. I usually would sit with her for a minute out in the sun, before running off on one of my adventures with one of my friends, or to meet some new boy. I wish that I had sat with her longer. Asked her what she loved about the book she was reading. Talked with her about why she loved looking out at the beach so much. Or just sat and watched as she soaked in the sun. Just to be with her a little longer would have been nice.

I miss those days. Especially on cold days like today, while I'm on "spring break" but not really having a break. Days when I think my family is finally well enough to venture out into the world, but only to find the truth at Panera when my child projectile vomits up his lunch. Not really my idea of a fun lunch date. But we made it home. And after all the icky clothes were in the wash, and the baby had had a bath, and gone down for a nap, it was fun to snuggle up on the couch with my little girl and watch a movie. It reminded me of something we would do on the rainy days on spring break down at the beach. Even if it was cold and wet, we were still assured good time together. Watching movies, playing cards, doing puzzles, whatever it was, it was just fun to be together. So, even though we're not down at the beach this week, I'm looking forward to a slower week. A week of recovery, yes, but also, a week to have fun together. To be intentional with each other, and to just sit together...a little bit more.

Time After Time

I can remember dressing up, pink lacy gloves complete, and dancing the day away, while I blared my Madonna, Cindy Lauper, and Michael Jackson in my living room.    I guess that's why the other night attending an 80's party didn't feel that weird.   I think some part of me still thinks that it's cool to look like this.    You know how when you are young, you take to something soooo much, that it somehow becomes a part of you, even though it's not really cool anymore?   Yay, that's how I felt the other night.    It was really great to be able to be silly and celebrate a good friend.    She was definitely surprised, which was great.    Here are some pics from our nostalgic evening -  happy birthday, birthday girl!!!

Go Heels!

I've been sick for the last couple of days with some type of flu bug, and so my main place of resting (as usual when I'm sick) has been on the couch in the living room. My kids play in there, which means I can still supervise, even if mentally not quite as astute. However, there's been one perk to being sick for these last couple days, as the couch is located directly across from the tv. And, in case you're not into college basketball, we're right in the middle of the ACC Tournament. Usually, I would only have peeked in on some of the games to check the scores, and see who's going to play who, and then of course watched the Tarheels play. But because I've been laid up on the couch, I've had the luxury of watching every game. And even though my 16 month old son only says about 5 words, now "Ba-be-ball" (basketball) has entered into his vocabulary. And his jump shot is improving watching how Tyler Hansbrough puts it in. =)

Yay for Local Dives!

Maybe its because we're moving this summer. Maybe it's just because I like finding little hole in the wall places that I love. Maybe it's because from the time I was 6 months old until I 3 1/2, one of the main places my family ate was a little dive in San Diego, called El Indio. But whatever the reason, we finally tried this dive of a Mexican restaurant tonight, and loved it.

We've gone to the usual places since college, every now and then. But never like on a once a week basis. But for the last few months, I've been wanting to find what I would be able to call "the best Mexican place in town". To have our own, yummy Mexican place, where we know the staff, and we love the salsa, and it's our place. Well, we found it, and we love it. Have I said that, yet? The great thing is, is that it's a couple blocks from our house.

I didn't feel like making dinner tonight, and we hardly ever go out. But tonight I said to Randy as he was finishing up working out in the shed, "I really wish we could go to that Mexican place." And with the wonderful response that I was hoping for, we got cleaned up (Asher had yogurt in his hair from breakfast -yes, breakfast- had soaked his overalls with water that he had tried drinking from a nalgene all by himself, and dirt all over him from laying down in the mulch how River had done when she had fallen off the playground equipment) and went out!

We pulled up in less than 2 minutes, and proceeded to have a great Mexican meal, where we spoke Spanish (broken, mind you) with the waitresses, shared a Tecate, had delicious salsa, caught glimpses of a soccer game on ESPN (Randy's favorite sport, but we never get to see because we don't get "big cable"), ate yummy burritos, tacos, quesadillas, enchalidas, etc., and even got dessert chimis (cheesecake stuffed in a buttery sugared tortillas). It was very fun, and very reasonable. When we got home, River said in reference to the car trip, "That was short!" Which is all the more reason why, we'll definitely see you soon, San Luis.

Yay for local dives.

I've Been Tagged...

So, I've been tagged, by my friend Whitney and I'm supposed to share 7 strange things about myself. I don't know where to start, and I definitely don't know how I'll keep it to only 7. But here goes. You're gonna see how weird this girl really is.

1. I have to "sweep" out the sheets every night before I get in them. No, not with a broom, gross! With my hand, to make sure that all the grit is out, before I lay down. And then I have to brush my feet off, before I put them in, to make sure I'm not adding any grit to the "clean" sheets.

2. I have to pop my zits. I can never leave them, because if you don't get the stuff out, how can they heal?! It's like they're begging me to get all the nasty stuff out.

3. When I go back up to buffets I hold my stomach in so that people won't think that I've eaten too much already. (Now, I realize this is showing how deep my issues are, but oh well.)

4. I love to dance, but I only dance my heart out when no one's watching. But I wish I could dance like that all the time, because I'm way better when no one's watching.

5. I've had really bad handwriting my entire life. It's the only thing I used to get "Ns" in when I was in elementary school. So if I want it to look good, I have to take a long time, and make it really funky and curly. But, I'll do that just to hide what it really looks like. And yes, I'm a lefty.

6. I like the way cigarette smoke smells from a distance. Not too overpowering, and right in front of you, and never when I'm eating. But just having it kind of drift past me is nice.

7. I chew my ice cream. I know, I don't need to. But it just needs to be mushed up more.


So, there ya have it. Now, tag, you're it, Randy, Kari, Emily, Meredith, Carrie, and Diane!

The Price is Right

I start getting excited about the consignment sales at about the first of the year. It's always a long time to wait from the fall consignments in Aug. /Sept. till the spring/summer consignments in Feb. So, I start thinking about what my kids might need, you know, making a mental list. Or I think to myself, "Oh, I'll have to try to get one at the consignment sales." Well, maybe it was because I was busy, or because there's not a ton of extra cash right now, but this year, I showed much self control. I waited until the consignment sale was half-off prices day.

If you know how kids consignment sales work, you know that by Saturday (1/2 off day) things are pretty well picked over. They have gone through the "consigners preview sale" where all the people who have donated items to the sale get first pick at what is for sale. That's Thursday night. Then you have the first full open to the public day on Friday. So by the time Sat. roles around, the things that are still cute, are usually either chosen to not be half off, and the sellers usually want too much for it, or they're items from the early 90's.

But I decided I would take the risk, and just go and see. However, I did have both kids. And it was mid morning. At first, I didn't see very much. But then, I began looking a little closer. Then my 1 year old, began screaming, and therefore, I couldn't think very clearly, so I just grabbed what I liked, and didn't take the time to add. The longer I was there, the more I saw, and the more I wanted the great deals. Shirts for him, dresses for her. "$1 for these Polo shorts! Brand new Gap capris for only $2! You can never have too many T-shirts, and only .50 cents!" You get the picture.

Thinking that I was at about $50, I decided to check out. Not to mention the still screaming 1 year old. I had gone in with just my cash, because I "knew" that I wouldn't spend more than that. I asked the lady ringing me up where I was about 1/2 way through. When she said $46 I kind of freaked out, and then said, "I'll be right back. I have to get my check book."

So, yeah, my plan kind of backfired. I did get some good stuff, and the ball toy will keep my son happy for hours. (That's what all the screaming was about, btw. That he couldn't take out the ginormous inflatable ball toy, with all the the millions of plastic balls, and play with them.) But as much of a "self controlled" decision as I was hoping for. When the price is right, the deals win me over every time.