Archives for 2011

On Earaches and Mary

March 14, 2011 by Kelli

On Friday night Landon asked to go to bed. This was after he asked to take a nap on Friday afternoon and he slept for two hours.

Not normal.

At 11:00 Friday Landon woke up crying. He was at the tail end of a cold so a little medicine, a kiss and a cup of water and everyone settled once again. Until…

One O’clock rolled around and we heard the desperate pleas of our little one. And he never went back to sleep.

“My eeaaaw huwts,” he cried all night, clutching at his left ear. We rocked and sang and he’d slowly drift to sleep only to jolt awake again with a cry. Back and forth we went between his room and our own room, Lee and I alternating trying to sleep and holding our hurting boy. We debated heading to the ER but knew it was an ear infection and decided to wait it out until morning.

At 5:30 we put in High School Musical and I dozed on the couch. By 9:00 we were in the pediatrician’s office where it was declared he had a nasty inner ear infection with a painful looking bulge and by 10:30 we were home with a little boy who looked like this.

Not only did he look exhausted, he also look abused due to an unfortunate run in with the corner of the iPad the night before that left him with a shiner. He was pitiful and in pain most of Saturday but by Sunday morning had perked up considerably thanks to numbing drops, antibiotics and twleve hours of solid sleep. We were on the mend, and we were happy.

When his ear began dripping blood on Sunday morning we began fast and furiously treating what we think may have been a slight perforation in his ear drum with both antibiotic ear drops and oral antibiotics as we are flying a week from tomorrow and we need his ear healed. So far the pediatrician has cleared us to fly and is confident that he will be fine by the time we leave. This is a good thing because if she said he wouldn’t be I was already planning the car trip.

Sunday afternoon I went to a practice for an Easter drama that a few of us are putting on on Easter Sunday. It’s a beautiful piece of work and I found myself very emotional at one point when the character of Christ speaks the word, “Mother?” This happens during the crucifixion scene.

And my heart broke a little as I pictured Mary watching her baby suffer. My heart crumbled just seeing Landon suffer through ear pain, but Mary watched her son beaten, bruised and hung. She watched the blood drain from the very hands that she held as a small child. She saw the flesh torn from the back of the boy she bathed as a boy.

She suffered.

As my children grow I’m realizing more and more that I will always and forever see the infant form of them. Sloan is developing a man-child look about him and yet I still see the expressive toddler who marveled at the moon. Tia’s face matures a little more each day and yet I still see the big-eyed infant who couldn’t wait to conquer the world.

Landon is right where I want him right now. He is today who I will never forget.

Mary felt the same way. I understand that more and more the longer I parent. She saw the man who hung on the cross, but did her mind flash to him toddling into her arms? It most surely did. Did she remember sloppy kisses and delighted laughter? I’m sure of it. As she stared at his arms stretched wide across the beams, did her own arms ache with the memory of the weight of her infant? Did she smell the stench of the stable and see the dark, round eyes of her firstborn nuzzled against her chest?

What kind of memories flooded her mind’s eye?

And as he suffered and died slowly, did she experience pain herself? What was swirling through her heart? It pains me to even think about it, as it pained me to watch my toddler clutch at his ear in pain.

When they hurt, we hurt.

And then, when she heard He was alive – what did she feel? What kind if disbelief and shock and fear and joy coursed through her veins? When she saw His resurrected body, did she still see the little boy she raised or was He different somehow? Did He give her an extra long hug and a kiss on the cheek, a balm to the wound she had suffered three days before?

I wonder about these things.

Mary was a mother.

I am a mother.

And so I ponder.

Filed Under: Easter, faith, Family, Holidays, Kids, Landon, Motherhood Tagged With: Christ, Crucifixion, Easter, Mary, Resurrection, thoughts

The Spoils of His Booty

March 11, 2011 by Kelli

Last Saturday, Lee and I joined sweet friends at an auction/fundraiser for their kid’s school. We spent the first hour and a half perusing the silent auction items, wishing we had the money to bid on every item and reminding ourselves that we’re trying to sell and buy a house so keep your hands to yourself and don’t get into a bidding war because By God you might win!

When our friend Lauren, a sophomore at this high school, offered us the chance to purchase tickets giving us the opportunity to play the game Heads or Tails we decided this was a fun way to invest in the school without feeling guilty later. So we bought two tickets for forty bucks.

And we were happy.

Midway through the auction, as we were sitting on our hands not bidding on items and trips and others such delights, the game of Heads and Tails was introduced. Everyone who had puchased a ticket stood up and had to choose: hands on your head or hands on your…tail. Lee chose tail, I chose head.

Tails won.

And on and on it went with Lee doing his best to read the odds and somehow managing to choose right every time. And then it was down to two – Lee and another woman. Being the gentleman that he is, he let her choose first. She put her hands on her head, he put his hands on his backside.

The coin flipped and spun in the air, glittering and giggling as it danced back in the palm of the MC. He flipped it over on top of his opposite hand and slowly pulled his hand away as one of the teenagers stepped forward to read the results.

Tails!

Everyone cheered. I had a minor heart attack. Lee turned red and laughed and nodded his thanks then came back to our table to sit down as everyone congratulated him. “What are the odds?!” I said. “Well, they’re 50/50,” said a man across the table. Hardy, har, har…

“So what did I win?” Lee asked.

Well…

It’s a terrible picture, but that there is our brand new iPad! We are now the proud owners of a Mac product and we feel terribly cool because of it. The kids are certain we won it for them and Lee has quickly come to realize that he actually won it for me.

This totally beats an oversized stuffed carnival animal.

So given that Lee won this by holding onto his backside, it’s safe to say his booty is a bit of a lucky charm. Go ahead and rub it for luck next time you see him, if you want.

I’m kidding! Don’t do that. That would be weird and uncomfortable for everyone involved.

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Lee Tagged With: iPad, Mac

A few of my favorite things

March 10, 2011 by Kelli

As I begin seriously working on my novel again, I’ve spent some time reading through the books that bring me the most inspiration. Books that move my heart, make me laugh, make me cry and make me think that I could maybe, possibly write prose so poetic you feel as if you’re standing in the middle of the action. Here are a few of the books that move me:

The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver: I read this book in college and remember being stunned at the magic that sprang forth from each page. This book is a tragedy from start to finish, but it’s also poetry in motion. It’s so beautifully written that you don’t notice the heartache until it’s right on top of you.

The Girl with the Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier: I love this book. It is also tragic, but in a less blatant form. It’s a historical novel, which is my favorite kind of book and the imagery is so vivid that you feel like you’re a part of the Vermeer painting yourself.

Anna Karenina by Lev Tolstoy: I love this novel. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. This book makes me happy. And sad. But mostly happy.

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte: Another beautiful tale of love and tragedy. After reading this book I often find myself writing Thee and Thou as if it’s natural, every day language…

Aside from books, here are a few more of my favorite things.

Coffeemate Peppermint Mocha Creamer: I was positive that this was only a holiday flavoring offered for Christmas so every time I go to the store I buy more of this in the fear that they’re going to yank it off the shelves. So far they haven’t, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ve got seven bottles of it in my fridge.

You know that moment when you walk into your kids’ rooms after lights out and they’re sound asleep, their mouths open and their faces peaceful? You lean down and smell their hair and breathe in the scents of lavendar and lotion, then you gently kiss their soft, squishy cheeks.

That is so my favorite thing.

My seven year old says the funniest things. My favorite from just this morning was when I pulled out the nail clippers to tackle the claws he likes to call toes.

“No! Don’t clip my toenails!” he cried. “Why?” I asked. “Because they’re my weapons,” came the reply. “I need them in case Tia and Landon start attacking me.”

Listening to his reasoning is definately one of my favorite things.

Sleeping. Last night I slept eight and a half hours uninterrupted. I’m fairly certain I didn’t move the entire night. And that is one of my favorite things.

What are a few of your favorite things?

Filed Under: Random Tagged With: anna karenina, books, favorite things, jane eyre, Kids, the girl with the pearl earring, the poisonwood bible

The one with the bags under my eyes

March 9, 2011 by Kelli

The clock read 4:32 am.

“Moooooommmmmyyyyyy,” came the pitiful cry. I quickly got up and went to Tia’s room. She is my sleeper. She is the child who could sleep through any illness, the one who once vomited then went back to sleep in it.

Gross.

So when she cries out in the middle of the night, there’s usually a good reason for it. Usually.

“What’s wrong,” I asked, kneeling by her bed. Her eyes were closed. She was asleep. Like a cruel joke she roused me from my bed then fell back into a deep slumber. I stumbled back to bed.

The clock read 4:36 and I felt the heat of little eyes staring at me from the bedside. “Tia, what’s wrong, honey?” I mumbled.

“I had a bad dream about tornados,” she wimpered. We can all thank her big brother for that phobia. I got up and walked her back to her room and put her back in bed. “Think about happy things,” I told her. “Think of the beach and ice cream and gymnastics.”

I fell back into my bed a minute later.

The clock read 4:40.

“Moooom?” Her call floated down the hallway like bad alarm that won’t go off. I waited. Maybe she would think I was asleep and she’d give up. All rationality had left my weary body at that point. “Moooom?”

I sat up and hissed, “Tia, hush!”

A few minutes later. “Moooom?” With less sympathy and a modicum more frustration, I flung the covers off my body and briskly walked to her room.

“Tia! What?!”

“I sneezed,” she said, her tiny face peeking out from under the mountain of blankets.

I did not respond. I held onto my own advice of When you don’t have something nice to say, Ssshhh! Say nothing.

That was two nights ago. Last night the same situation played itself out only she complained of leg and head pain (I believe she’s growing) and she woke up crying because she had a nightmare that Sloan was scratching her.

So if you run into me today and notice the bags under my eyes, or think you can make out Route 66 in the red lines criss crossing my eyeballs, now you’ll know why. I have slept all night in more than two weeks.

T-Minus 13 days until we leave for Florida. I may not sleep anymore down there, but at least I’ll get a little tan to mask the bags. That’s my happy dream…

Filed Under: Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Motherhood, things I don't need to hear, Tia Tagged With: kids sleeping through the night, Mom fatigue, Motherhood

The Debate of our Generation

March 6, 2011 by Kelli

I try to keep things light around here. I don’t like starting fights and I don’t like confrontation. I tried all of that some in the past and, honestly, wasn’t crazy about the drama that followed. So I stopped.

But this is not something that I can keep silent about any longer. I think this is an important issue that we should be discussing. I think it’s time we all took a deep breath and had a reasonable conversation like the grown ups that we are. This issue is very sensitive to some and I’m not sure that there’s a right or wrong answer, but I do know we need to discuss.

Watch the video and then let me know YOUR thoughts. How do you feel about this issue? This may be the debate of our generation so I want to hear what you have to say. And remember, we are all entitled to our own opinions. Don’t be afraid to share how you really feel. This is a safe place…

Filed Under: Uncategorized Tagged With: Minivans, the debate of our generation, the great debate

Digging Down Deep

March 3, 2011 by Kelli

Today is one of those days when I feel like I’m done. I have nothing left. I gave so much of myself last week and I used every bit of my reserve energy to survive and get through that I have little left this week. Lee is home now, which helps, but unfortunately work is such that I’m still alone a lot, with sick children, a house to pack (we’re hoping to put it on the market in a few weeks) and a long list of other responsibilities staring me in the face.

And I am exhausted. So tired that my eyes actually ache. And given the fact that I have a three year old who refuses to nap, afternoon rest is likely not in my forecast. *sad face*

This is one of those days/weeks that I am going to need to dig down deep. One of those days/weeks when I have nothing left of my own to offer. One of those days/weeks when my time with my Bible is like lapping from the sweet stream waters after an arduous hike.

I’m digging down deep. I am in survival mode. In this fog I honestly don’t see an end in sight, but I know there is one. In three weeks I’ll be in Florida. The Beach is waiting for me. And my mom will be there. Ah! Suddenly there is a small light at the end of the tunnel.

It’s called Spring Break.

What do you all do when you have to dig deep? What gets you through those longs days/weeks/months/years when life is overwhelmingly full?

Filed Under: Family, Life, Motherhood, Travel Tagged With: digging deep, mommy fatigue, Spring Break

He’s made it abundantly clear

March 2, 2011 by Kelli

He really,

really,

hates

taking

his Tamiflu.

Thank God he only has one dose left, although I will miss laughing at him as he gags dramatically…

Filed Under: funny stuff that happens, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Sickness, Sloan Tagged With: kids and medicine, Kids do the darndest things, Tamiflu

You won’t judge me, right?

March 1, 2011 by Kelli

Alternately titled: I’m a big dork and now you know.

I have wonderful friends. Really, really great friends who love me and look out for me. Last Saturday when Sloan was so sick, I talked with my friend Elizabeth. She immediately identified with my fatigue and pain and did what only a sweet friend would do.

She brought me Peppermint Mocha Coffeemate, because she knows I’m addicted to it, and she dropped off and stack of movies for the kids to watch.

She saved me.

We piled up on the floor with blankets (and coffee) and had a movie marathon. We watched High School Musical 2 and 3. This is the part where I reveal how big of a dork I am. I am ashamed and yet…I’m not.

Ahem…

I don’t hate the High School Musical trilogy. In fact *looks around, leans in close and whispers* I actually like the movies in all their cheesy flare. Had I seen these as a preteen I would have definately had posters and CD’s (okay, Cassette Tapes – I know, I know…) and maybe even a pin or two for my jean jacket.

Part of my enjoyment could be my soccer mom crush on Zac Efron. Part of it stems from my life long love of obsession with musicals. I have loved them since I was a kid. I remember as a young girl wishing I could live in a musical. How fun would it be to burst into song and have everyone join you both in song and in dance? Think how sunny and fun life would be if we sang out our problems and dreams!

Lee thinks I’m the only person who would find this fun.

So there you have it. I like High School Musical. All three of them. I like them, okay? Yes, they’re silly and overly dramatic and over the top, but they make me smile and I may or may not bob my head to the beat when the campy songs start up.

So this morning, after Sloan got on the bus (yes, he’s finally going back to school), when Tia and Landon asked if they could watch it…well, I said yes. Because I wanted to see Zac listen to the songs.

Now you know. I wanted to share this with you because you’re my friends and I know you won’t judge me. Right? I mean, we can still be friends, can’t we? Please?

Try not to be jealous, everyone. I’m not always this cool.

Filed Under: Random, the boob tube Tagged With: High School Musical movies, I'm a dork, Zac Efron

On Listening and Hallucinations

February 27, 2011 by Kelli

So often I think society short changes our youngest citizens. We assume our youth to be in need of constant glitz and glamour and unable to grasp concepts without entertainment. I don’t agree. I think kids are fully capable of holding mature and in depth conversations without the need of flashy presentations.

Even junior highers, who, as we all know, tend to be a species all their own.

I thoroughly enjoyed the eighth grade students I spoke with on Thursday. They were bright and engaging and terribly adorable. They asked really great, insightful questions about writing, overcoming writer’s block, how to seek publication and so on. Many of them were avid readers and were far more articulate than I ever was at that age.

Because Sloan was not feeling well (which, MOM FAIL, I thought was just a ploy to get some alone time with me for the day) he tagged along with me to the career fair. I so enjoyed having him to myself for the morning. No one told me that parenting would be so hard so young. I knew that it would be a lot of work. I didn’t know that it would be emotionally draining by the time age seven rolled around.

Connecting with him one on one was a blessing I didn’t know I needed. And Sloan, in turn, learned a little something about me. All that time I spend on the computer? I’m not just playing games.

“You work?!” he asked.

“Yes. I am a writer. That’s what I’m doing when I’m on the computer…most of the time.”

“But only dads work!” he exclaimed.

Oh boy.

So along he came, a few books in tow, to sit with me as I spoke with the kids. He was great. My first group was comprised entirely of pretty little girls, which sent Sloan into a flurry of embarrassed chatter and flirting. It’s inate, the flirting! So we had a little talk before the second group came along about not talking and just listening.

So he did. He listened – maybe a little too closely. He brought home one of the packets that the students received on writing. These were some of the notes he took upon listening to me speak:

He also wrote me this little note, which just made my day weekend month.

Upon leaving the meeting, we headed home where Sloan promptly began running a fever. This began two of the most dreadful nights I’ve had as a mom. I was alone. My son was sick, restless and hot. Very, very hot. Thursday night he peaked around 103. Niether one of us slept much, in part because his fever was so high and in part because he kept flicking his expander in and out of his mouth all night without even realizing it which was equal parts disgusting and annoying.

Friday we laid low. He ran a fever all day, but it wasn’t too terribly frightening. I promised the kids we’d have a sleep over at their grandparent’s house (who are currently out of the country) and so we headed over with snacks and a movie. As soon as the sun went down, though, his fever spiked. He and I “slept” on the couch, which really means that I was up and down all night getting cool cloths for his forehead and neck.

At 1:00 I took his temperture and flipped out when it read almost immediately 104.9. Sloan was very restless, couldn’t lay still and couldn’t sleep. He was murmruing in his sleep and would occasionally sit up and say random things like “Give Sadie more water,” or “Tia move!” Even in a delusional, feverish state he manages to fight with his sister.

Nice.

At one point he sat up and started reaching for an invisible object, which sent me into all manor of panic.

I had quite the adventure trying to locate medicine to try and bring his fever down. I briefly considered pulling a Ma Ingalls and packing him in a tub of ice, but though better of it and instead prayed and wondered at what point I was supposed to wake the other two up and take him to the hospital.

Laying next to him when he was that hot was almost as miserable for me as it was for him. He wanted to be close, but didn’t want to be touched. Imagine spooning the sun. That’s what it felt like. We made it to morning and hightailed it to the doctor’s office where she confirmed my suspcions: Influenza.

Two days of Tamiflu later and we’re down to a low grade fever and nasty cough. And Lee should finally be home any minute now.

And I feel like I could conquer the world for surviving that. Just as soon as I get a decent night’s sleep, of course…

Filed Under: Uncategorized

The Art

February 24, 2011 by Kelli

A ten year old girl sits intently over her metal framed desk, her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth as her pencil scratches furiously across the lined paper. She sighs, erases, then places pencil to paper again. An adventure is spilling from her fingertips. It involves a hot air balloon and a chicken.

She knows it’s brilliant.

With a modicum of flair, the girl hands it to her teacher looking much like the Cheshire Cat. Two days later, her story come back with a bright red smiley face and the words GREAT JOB! The teacher pulls her aside later and tells the girl to never be afraid to use her imagination and to keep telling stories.

So the girl does.

A thirteen year old girl sits in her bedroom with the blank pages of a journal on her lap. It is the place where the angst of teendom spills forth in childlike poetry. She pours out her heart with emotion and gives full expression to every hurt, every confusion, every fear, every joy.

She lays the journal down and immediately feels the need to write some more.

So she does.

A sixteen year old girl sees a younger classmate hurting and wants to help. She’s not good with words unless she is able to put them on paper so she decides to write a devotional. With great fervor, she writes a seven day devotional in which she hopes to convey God’s love in a way that replaces the pain with hope. She never found out if she succeeded, but she begins to wonder if her passion could be used for good.

So she continues to dream.

A nineteen year old girl is called into her professor’s office. She sees her paper on his desk and suddenly fears she has made a grave error in her writing. She listens in awe as he instead praises her paper and asks if he can submit it to a local writing contest. “You know we have a Professional Writing Major here, don’t you?” he asks. “You should think about that.”

She thinks, she decides, she declares.

A twenty year old sits on a train from Prague to Ukraine. She is alone with a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a copy of Jane Eyre. She puts down her book and looks out at the changing leaves and rolling hills of a foreign land. She picks up her pen and journal and writes. She uses “Thee” and “Thou” and feels like Charlotte Bronte on a grand adventure.

She feels romantic and poetic.

A twenty three year old girl is newly married and sitting in her empty apartment, her eyes glued to the computer screen before her. She has her first big break. A book. And she is terrified. So she does the only thing she really knows how to do, she writes. Most of it isn’t fit for publication, but she works out the kinks through the melodic clicking of her keyboard.

Her dream is coming true.

A cough cough year old girl gets up long before the sun to make use of the few brief moments she’s allotted with her thoughts. She pulls out her dusty journal and for the first time in years touches pen to paper. It’s as if her first love has been there waiting for her all along. Life flows from her fingertips and she quickly puts her pen back down, almost breathless.

She forgot how much she loved the art.

This same girl is digging back into the recesses of her imagination and letting it run free again. Hot air balloons and chickens suddenly don’t seem that strange. In fact, it feels like a fantastic adventure.

Today I am speaking at a local career fair on the art and craft of writing. What will I say to them? Perhaps, chase your dreams. Or maybe, don’t be afraid to use your imagination. Should I include have a back up plan?

What advice would you give young minds eager to jump into their own futures?

Filed Under: Blogging, Life, Random, School Tagged With: career fair, education, writing, Youth