Bearing the Distance

I live withing 30 minutes of my hometown. And even though my parents have relocated, they live just over an hour away. If something happens to me and I need help, or a favor, or an above-and-beyond, I have it. When I came home from the doctor's office with a diagnosis of Bell's Palsy to a baby who never slept and a head that felt like a knife was being jammed behind my left ear, my mom was able to be with me within hours and proceeded to wash my dishes, fold my laundry and then drive me back to her house for some TLC and sleep. I am blessed that way.

My friends (and my sister), however, live all over the country. When they go through hard times they don't have the same convenience I do of a mom that lives just down the highway. They have to depend on local friends and neighbors for support and their moms have to buy plane tickets to arrive on their doorsteps. It is frustrating when I can't be the one to bring over a meal, babysit kids, or give hugs. I feel so helpless sometimes to not be able to swoop in and help, and, to be honest, sometimes I lay in bed at night wondering how I can buy a plane ticket or where I can stash the kids so I can fly out to physically be there for a friend in need.

I told someone the other day that by the time we have the freedom to go and help when needed, our friends won't need us anymore. That's not true, really, but we're all in the same boat. We are just tied down a bit more than we were before we had kids.

So I can't be there in person and it sucks. I'm here, two thousand miles away, thinking, praying and loving from a distance. But if thoughts and prayers and love had wings, I would already be there.

A "Say Good-bye to Cancer" Party

As many of you know, last January my much beloved sister-in-law, Kelly, was diagnosed with Ovarian Cancer. To say that this diagnosis came as a shock, is a gross understatement. We were out of our minds with disbelief and just overwhelming sadness when we first found out. Kelly and her family are a huge part of our lives -- she is a second mother to our children and the center of Mike's family since his parents' divorce. She and her husband and four children live in on the farm that Mike grew up on, and it is the place for many holiday gatherings and family get-togethers. Besides being a wife and mom, she is also a kindergarten teacher and an active member of her church. I can honestly tell you that there are few people that I know that are beloved as she is by pretty much anyone who has been able to spend even five minutes with her. Every where I go there is at least some stranger who asks me if I know Kelly, and if I can give them an update on how she is doing. I can't tell you how many times someone has approached me to tell me how special they think Kelly is and how they are praying for her. In fact, her mother-in-law told me, while we were setting up for the party, that the greeter at Walmart walked up to her and told her that Kelly has had an amazing influence over not only the staff of Walmart, but also the shoppers. This woman had seen Kelly asked by strangers about her cancer, and shared that Kelly had been so gracious and open about her journey.

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About mid-way through Kelly's chemotherapy, I had the thought that there should really be a major party at the end of all of this. Kelly had just been such a trooper, going back to work within weeks of her diagnosis, and continued to work despite undergoing a rigorous treatment schedule. She also had to endure many, many tests, most of them not very comfortable, and, of course, she lost all of her beautiful hair. When I asked her what she thought about a party, she got very excited. In my mind I thought we would have just a simple family gathering, but as time went on I really felt like I wanted to include all of the people that have been supporting Kelly's family, from the church members who were bringing in meals, friends who were sending letters and gifts, co-workers who were rooting for her recovery, and just everyone who was praying for and loving this family.

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Kelly and I picked the date, my other sister-in-law made the invitations, and we sent them out to more than 100 people. The party was an outdoor potluck and we provided barbecue chicken. I was amazed that we had nearly 100 people come. It was a huge crowd. Every time I turned around there was someone giving Kelly a hug or a gift. She has seriously touched so many people with the way that she has lived her life, and I was so pleased that this party turned out so well and that Kelly was happy with it. The weather even held (it was very windy, of course. The tablecloths I had sewn blew everywhere), which was all I wanted.

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We are all super optimistic about Kelly's recovery. Her last chemo treatment was two weeks ago and her white count numbers are nearly down to zero. She has an upcoming scan that will check for any remaining tumors, but the prognosis is just awesome. We are so grateful!!!

The beautiful guest of honor, Kelly.

Her husband, Steve, who has worn his shaved head in solidarity.

One of the things I really wanted to do was have people leave messages for them so that the family would always remember how much they were loved. This picture and frame turned out really cool.

Mike and my mom wrangled the kids for me. I wouldn't have been able to do this without their help. You can see that Sam is barely holding it together.

Some shady characters that were up to no good.

The cookies I made as favors. Remind anyone of a certain wedding that happened 10 years ago?

An H-E-Double-Hockeysticks Kind of Day

Last night I got home late. Like past my curfew late. So late that I had to run squealing from my car to the front door for fear that I would be attacked by the rabid raccoons that populate my neighborhood. It was all cool, though, because most of the time I don't fall asleep until midnight, no matter what time I tuck myself into bed, so after checking my email I changed and proceeded to spoon the snoring Dreamboat. After about thirty minutes of laying there (I was hyped up on three diet pops, after all), Sam woke up, which wasn't a huge surprise. What was a huge surprise, however, was the rancid smell that awaited me when I opened his door. You know that smell of stomach acid mixed with cat food and a little sour milk thrown in for good measure?

He had puked all over himself, his crib and his blanket. I quickly washed him off, changed his clothes, changed his sheets, hunted down a new blanket and rocked him back to sleep. About thirty minutes after I had crawled into bed Sam started crying again. He'd done a repeat of before. This time he went in the bath and I had to search for more bedding and pajamas.

When I'm doing things like this in the middle of the night, I always find myself wondering at the power of a man's sense of hearing and ability to sleep through every crisis that occurs after 10 o'clock at night.

At this point Sam was in no mood to go back to sleep, and I thought I might as well watch my recorded episode of So You Think You Can Dance? (is this not the stupidest name for the best show you have ever hear of?) By the time I got him into bed it was 4:30 am and I was literally shaking from fatigue. I knew I could get max about three hours of sleep before Mike needed to leave for work, but sometimes when you are so tired (and I had downed those three sodas, remember?) sleep is just evasive. I know it was at least an hour before my body and mind finally succumbed to sleep. Mike got up an hour later with Sam when he woke up, and then I dragged my sorry self out to the living room an hour after that. This is not shaping up to be a good day.

Did I mention I'm throwing a party for 100 people on Saturday? And that Mike is starting a painting job tomorrow and that I will literally not see or hear from him from six in the morning until midnight on Sunday?

At this moment I'm living for 3:00, about an hour and 15 minutes away. A nap for Sam and Charlie will be in order, and hopefully a brief nap for me, even though I should be sewing tablecloths and baking and decorating 100 sugar cookies. Mike REALLY wants to pick strawberries when he gets home from work, and I don't think I have the heart to tell him no.

I'm a Model, You Know What I Mean

Getting my picture taken is not fun for me. Even worse, is having to look at those pictures that have been taken of me. But, despite my revulsion at my own image, and my own difficulty of seeing anything other than age spots and fat rolls, I knew that I wanted Kim to capture some photos of just me. Call me vain. Call me Ms. Fancypants, or whatever, but I knew that in 10 years from now, when I am settling into my mid-forties, I would be darn pleased to be able to look at my 33 year old self, current flaws and all. And I hope my boys and their children will be happy to have pictures of me to look at, and to remember me by.

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It seems that pictures of our mothers are so hard to come by. Moms tend to be the photographers, or are busy in the kitchen during parties, or gathering the troupes together during large gatherings, and rarely make it into the photograph. I treasure the pictures of my mom, especially ones that capture her smiling and laughing. She is so beautiful to me.

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So these pictures are for me and for my posterity. I have no doubt in the years to come the flaws that are so obvious to me today will fade away. That those lines and spots will merely reflect all of the laughter and experiences in my life, and the fat rolls will just remind me of those little boys that I carried in my tummy for nine months and carried in my arms for many years after.

Look What We Found

Someone found his brothers' mud bucket.

Cheese!

Every couple of days, Charlie comes and finds me and asks me to take his picture. Most of the time I say no, I'm up to my elbows in something else, but other times I can't help but oblige. He wanted me to take a picture of him with his snow hat that his cousin Joe made for him. If you are wondering why he looks a little funny, it's because we have all been super sick and he happens to have come down with a bit of pink eye. Fun times!

My Little Family

On one of the hottest, muggiest days of the year so far, my family and I -- along with one extraordinary photographer and her assistant -- braved a sheer climb to the top of a mountain to capture some images of our family. That I don't look like a sweaty pile of goo (way to go, wool sweater!), speaks to how good of a photographer Kim is. I think she captured my family perfectly. What do you think?

Storm Watching

Yesterday we experienced a storm that does not usually happen in this part of the world. The sky was dark by 3:30 and all of the boys loved running around the back yard with the wind whipping them around. I soon realized, though, that they needed to come inside because it looked as if one of our trees could possibly lose a branch in the very high winds. Not much longer and the world was booming with thunder and exploding with lightning. Sirens started going off every where, when the sky suddenly opened up and released a torrential downpour. All of this went on for nearly an hour, while we sat and watched it all through the living room window.