I have no room to complain

Watching "Good Morning, America" this morning, my eye kept getting drawn to the ticker running alongside the bottom of the screen because it was something about a 4 year old boy, but I kept missing the first part. I knew it probably wasn't something good, but something in my stomach forced me to keep watching in order to get the whole sentence. When I finally read it, I really wished I hadn't: "Body found in central California canal belongs to 4 year old boy kidnapped from his home". It was something along those lines and my eyes immediately started to well up with tears. The thing that made me saddest though, was that this sentence was strung along with dozens of other headlines streaming across TV's all over the nation like a passing thought or a whispered piece of gossip. It's like the message was "this isn't that important, but thought you all should know". But for that family? My gosh, I can not even begin to imagine the pain and horrific sorrow that is ripping them apart right now. Being a mom has made my heart much more fragile, and I hate that news like this is a normal part of the everyday in this broken world. And of all things in life that make me question the heart of our Saviour, it's stories like this. Someone so innocent who did not deserve what came their way, but I guess that perfectly describes Jesus, doesn't it?

All that to say, that while this story shook me up a bit this morning, my attention span with Israel was renewed today. I rocked him to sleep for both his early nap and his bedtime tonight. Rather then sitting in front of the TV while nursing, I took the time to feed him while sitting in my rocker and watch him. Instead of checking Facebook or playing a game on my phone while he goofs around on his toys in the living room, I challenged him to a crawling contest and then tried to teach him a more modern version of pattycake. My friend Amber wrote something once that I really, really liked. She talked about investing in her kids, taking those little moments to pour into them, not just try and survive the day to day in this thing called motherhood. I think that's SO important because it's what makes anything you do enjoyable. The more you put into it, the more you get out of it, and today, despite the sadness of this morning and the heartache I feel for that family, in a weird way the snippet inspired me to make the most of my day with my son. I don't want to complain about the cuteness that is my sweet little bundle of smiles because truly I'm blessed.

Do we ever really get over high school?

Okay, fine, I admit it. I like being in control of things, and I'm pretty good at it. Particularly, I like to think I'm good at keeping my emotions in check. If someone cuts me off and then flips me the bird, I'll admit that steam comes out of my ears, and if I flip past Animal Planet and a mama whatever is nursing or licking it's cub, oh, the tears well up, but for the most part, I'm pretty good at being reasonable and calm.

So, enter this last weekend. I found out through a series of Facebook posts and information from my hubby that a group of my friends were taking a trip. A shopping trip. A girls shopping trip. An all girls, no babies, overnight shopping trip. And I hadn't been invited or told about it.

Holy emotions, Batman!!! I could not believe how bummed out I got. Am I particularly close to these girls? No, or at least not yet. We hang out pretty often, text each other every once in a while, share books and recipes and laugh really easily together. But the clincher in our relationship, at least for me, is that we have babies that are all pretty much the same age. So, should our friendship progress, our kiddos will be growing up together. And that was it. The realization of how much I want Israel to have a close group of friends is what made me come to terms with my fah-reaking out.

Growing up, I went to a private school, so when my freshman year started at NVHS I didn't know a single person there. Luckily, I was adopted by a group of girls and they were so nice, but I always felt a little bit like a charity case rather than a friend they would choose to hang out with. We had sleepovers and study groups and my four years there were fantastic and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat, but (and this is embarassing) when the time came for graduation rehearsal, and you had to choose the one person you were going to walk with...I didn't have anyone. I ended up walking with a guy who didn't have anyone either.

So when this weekend trip happened, it honestly felt like high school graduation all over again and I was the odd man out.

Now, truth be told, I was completely wrong with what I assumed the girls trip to be. It turned out to be planned by one of the gals mother-in-law and it was an annual tradition and not everyone in our group of friends was going, in fact, hardly any of them were. When I found that out I was really relieved, but I still couldn't get over how emotional I had gotten about the whole thing.

All that to say, I wonder if those little ego bruisings we take on during our youth don't embed themselves as permanent scars in our hearts, and when any situation arises that can bump them and make them hurt again, if it's possible to not overreact. It's embarrassing for me to be this frank and honest because I'm basically letting you all know that I'm not as cool, calm and collected as you think I am, but I think it was important for ME to realize that too. I think it's all too easy to put out a persona that might be 90% you, but really, if you want to be comfortable and confident, then you need to confess up to the crazy 10% that I know is in all of us.

The perfect makeup. Seriously.

You know those makeup ads in magazines where the girls face looks so smooth it's practically poreless? Well, that's not me. I've never had great skin. Ever since I was a teenager I've had these little bumps that look like a mild rash all across my cheeks and a little bit on my forehead. Once I hit my 20's and had visited every dermatologist, aestitician, and had tried pretty much every skin-clearing product available with none of them working, I accepted it for what it was and tried to focus on my better features.

Now, I loooove me some make-up. Seriously, I can be in the cosmetics section of Macy's or Target for at least an hour. And I've run the gamut of products and have found a lot that I love, but my recent purchases proved to be the PERFECT trifecta of products for my skin.

About a month ago I was at the Benefit counter browsing and the gal mentioned they have a tinted moisturizer that she really likes and that I might enjoy. Usually their sales pitches go in one ear and out the other, but I'd been thinking of trying a TM and why not this one? That same trip I also purchased a bottle of their highlighter, and then shimmied over to Target and picked up a mineral powder I read about in a magazine.

Once I got back home, it was like the theme from Captain Planet - "when your powers combine..." - seriously, incredible. My skin looked really smooth, perfectly toned and even, and it was seriously glowing. Not glittery or sparkly, but dewy and yummy. Those are all adjectives that have NEVER described my face, so elated doesn't begin to explain how happy I was. I almost didn't trust it, but the next day, I used them all again and voila!! Masterpiece. So, it is with a happy heart, that I tell you those exact products and colors because if you're anything like me (aka makeup slut), you can always use a few new products now and then.

Tinted moisturizer: Benefit YouRebel Lite
Mineral powder: Maybelline Mineral Power Illuminator in Peach
Highlighter: Benefit High Beam

Brown paper packages tied up with string

These are a few of my (recent) favorite things.

Chai lattes - These used to gross me out cause it felt like I was drinking sweet soup - blech. Now, they're the fragrant, warm, foamy, spicy, smooth treat serving as autumn in a cup. I can't get enough.

The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills - This is sheer television delight at it's tawdry best. The mansions are extravagant and gorgeous. The drama is predictable and so easy to solve from my living room couch. The women are all a little alien like and reaffirm my mantra that daily sunscreen is a must. And it's somewhat comforting to see these people with the world at their fingertips, fantastic success, all the treats money can buy (literally) and yet they're not quite content. I'm not sure about how the other "Real Housewives" series are, but this one is definitely worth checking out.

"Up on the Ridge" by Dierks Bentley - This song and it's video remind me of a party I went to in high school. It was at Carina Feebus' house, and we had to walk across a field, behind the barn and through this patch of woods before we got to the bonfire that was set up next to the creek. There were friends, laughter and plenty o' flirting along with the smell of cold night under a indigo sheet of sky punched with silver stars. DB's song with it's marching beat and honkey-tonk instruments grooving to the smooth vocals is an invigorating shout out to youth, patriotism, and country.

New jeans - It took this mom 6 months to brave shopping for jeans after baby was born, and granted the ones I bought are two sizes bigger than what I wore before I got pregnant, but oh, the sweet feel of crisp new denim hugging the booty and a waistband stopping well below my belly button rather than a span of lycra making every inch of my torso sweat is heavenly.

Blogs that are awesome - Here are the three that when a new post pops up, I smile. "Girls gone child" is just cool. I find the majority of "mom" blogs obnoxious, but this one is written by a girl you actually want to be friends with. Plus, she gives occasional fashion and beauty tips that are easy to adopt. "Smitten Kitchen" has the most delicious recipes and her pics are fantastic. Absolutely makes me want to get into my kitchen and get creative. "1000 Awesome Things" is simply that. It's different snapshots of life, like perfectly stapling through a thick stack of papers or being slobby in a hotel room, that every time they occur put the awe in awesome.

Switching my winter & summer wardrobe - Every year I make myself put my favorite items for each season into storage until they're realistically ready to wear again. Not imaginarily. Realistically. No, Megan, as much as you love that cable knit v-neck sweater, you are NOT going to wear it with jean shorts during the summer to an evening softball game like the girl in the Urban Outfitters catalog. While it's a bit sad to put my favorite pieces into those big tupperware bins, it is a treat to unpack them again 6 months later. Plus, I get to purge the old & unwearable and either trash it or give it to my sissy so she can then flaunt her perfect size 2 body in my clothes. That's always greeeeeeat. Still, the idea of getting a newish wardrobe twice a year and reorganizing my closet is one of my faves.

The fall

I saw it happening, but my mind wouldn't register the reality of the situation. I was reaching through the side door on the drivers side to get my purse that was wedged in between the front passenger seat and the seat holding Israel's car seat base, and I happened to glance up and catch what looked like a doll rushing past the open door space where Ryan was getting Israel and his car seat out. It was strange cause the doll was wearing the same orange colored romper that Israel was wearing and it had really similar hair. I didn't hear a thud, but I did hear my husband swear and say, "Oh my god, I dropped him. He wasn't strapped in, oh my god, I dropped him!"

We had come to Fred Meyer to pick up a few groceries. Had I left the house a moment earlier, Ryan wouldn't have been with us, but he happened to pull into the driveway just as I was backing out, so he parked his car and hopped in for the quick trip. When we got parked we spoke really quick about pulling Izzy out of his car seat and placing him in the shopping cart, so Ryan opened up the door behind the passenger seat and unstrapped Izzy to pull him out. He then mentioned it'd probably be better to have him in the stroller, so rather than pull Izzy out, he unhooked the entire car seat in order to place it in the stroller. Whether it was the momentum of him heaving up the seat, or Izzy leaning forward or a combination of both, Israel toppled from his the seat, and fell fast, smacking the concrete and landing flat on his back and head.

We rushed to the hospital, I was driving and Ryan was holding a screaming, crying Israel in the back seat. As scared as I was, Ryan was much more so, and I found myself repeating to him "Calm down, it's going to be ok, keep him awake" as Ryan continued to say Israel's name and hug him with tears streaming down his own cheeks. We pulled into the ER parking lot, Ryan hopped out with the baby and I quickly parked and ran inside. We were in to be examined within 2 minutes. The gal asked us a few questions, checked out the knot on the back of Israel's head that was rapidly growing to be the size of an adult index finger, and then sent us back to the waiting room.

That was the scariest part because as we were waiting, Israel began throwing up. And throwing up, and throwing up, and throwing up. It couldn't be stopped, I was completely covered in vomit, and the poor baby lost in a sea of confusion and pain couldn't help but cry that much harder. We were summoned pretty quickly back into the ER where we were treated by a really kind doctor that said we were going to get a CT scan just to be sure there was no internal bleeding. I have to praise the staff at Three Rivers because within 90 minutes of the accident we were in an ER room, with a CT scan completed and our pediatrician had come by to take a look at Israel.

Izzy kept fading in and out of sleep, but when he was awake he just wasn't himself. His cry was different, it sounded almost disconnected, like it was out of reflex rather than reason. He couldn't keep his eyes focused on anyone, and if he did, there was zero recognition in his face.

His CT scan results came back with zero harm done to his brain but a slight skull fracture. The good thing about the fracture was that it could easily heal itself. Our pediatrician recommended to feed him for a minute and see if he was able to keep it down. He wasn't. Ryan ended up covered in baby puke as well, so we decided to stay overnight.

The turn in his demeanor happened around 6:30. The nurses attempted to give him an IV, but his teeny veins wouldn't allow it. Not that they gave up easily. After a day of hearing him scream in pain, you'd think I was jaded to it, but he did not like them tightening that band around his forearm and thigh. It's almost like that moment of trauma woke him up though cause afterwards he was alert and aware of who Ryan and I were. He was making great eye contact and even laughing occasionally. I was so happy that I wanted to pass up staying the night, but Ryan still thought it'd be a good idea so we were shuttled up to our room (which was awesome), shown how to use the bed and crib (which could have slept Ryan comfortably) and left with our family.

Izzy nursed great about 10 minutes after we got to our room, and he didn't gag or show signs of nausea whatsoever. He fell asleep soon afterward and slept for a few hours, then woke up, fed again and this time slept 'til 5:30 this morning.

A couple posts back I wrote about how much I've prayed in 2 Timothy 1:7: "The Lord has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power and love and a sound mind". Our Lord is an incredible God that answers prayer because throughout this entire situation if there is one emotion I didn't feel it was fear, and if there was one overwhelming emotion it was that of a sound mind.

I will never be able to express how much the prayers and words of encouragement sent our direction meant. I absolutely believe that the reason Izzy doesn't have any permanent damage is because of the onslaught of prayer that covered our family in the hours following his accident. Ryan and I were talking about how it happened and angels must have cushioned his head because he fell a long way and he fell hard. But the way that he has come of of this situation is miraculous and we will be forever grateful to our wonderful friends and family and mostly to our King.

6 months already?

Israel's about 6 1/2 months at this point, and he's starting to do so many things independently. He can sit up on his own, he's eating some solid foods, if he could only run to the grocery store for me, I'd applaud these advances in his little person, but it's a funny mix of accomplishment and sadness that accompany each milestone. I'm one of those fearful moms that think sometimes he's not going to advance to the next stage. That I'm going to be THAT mom with the boy that's 6 years old and can't walk or talk. Ridiculous - yes, but again, this mom thing has proven to me that hormones are serrrrrrious. So, whenever Israel begins to show advancement in an area, I'm relieved, but at the same time, I know that with each day that passes, he's growing farther and farther from physically needing me. Yes, he'll need my emotional and spiritual guidance from here 'til forever, but there's something about his physical need for me that's very fulfilling. I know it's selfish of me, but the whole children thing is really pretty narcissistic in my opinion anyway.

Oh my...looking at my little nugget right now as he naps so contentedly on our bed...being a parent is the most incredible blessing. I look forward to the next 6 months bringing on the changes and challenges that will surely be conquered and learned from. It's hard to believe that it was only 6 months ago that I first held him and in another 6 months he'll probably be walking around on his own. Time does fly by, but it's the sweetest ride.

2 Timothy 1:7

Tattoos bother me. They didn't use to, but I'm quickly growing adverse to trends that become the norm rather than the rarity. Regardless, if I could tattoo one saying on my body, it would absolutely be 2 Timothy 1:7.

Since becoming a mom, my irrational fears have easily quadrupled. I used to be afraid of normal things and with fairly understandable reasoning: hiking in the woods (one too many Reader's Digest grizzly bear stories), scary movies (someone somewhere thought up those story lines, so as bizarre and farfetched as they may be...someone's mind is still capable), the dark (who isn't?), spiders, snakes and all forms of bug life (that scene in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Kate Capshaw had to reach in that slot to free Indy and all those horrible bugs were crawling all over her), the dentist (every time it hurts - every single time!), etc.

Now, my fears all center around something happening to Israel, Ryan or I, but the most crippling are the thoughts that something would happen to Izzy and me having to live with it: someone kidnapping him, someone breaking into our house and hurting him and me being held back and unable to help or protect him - while those two are somewhat serious, I do have some pretty ridiculous notions: a snake weaving it's way into Izzy's crib, someone poisoning my breast pads and the poison transferring onto my skin and then to Izzy when he eats, masked intruders holding the grocery store hostage and taking him away from me. Although all of these aren't feasible, it's hard to shake the thoughts.

When is the other shoe going to drop? When is it going to be my Job moment? What's going to happen to hurt this perfect baby that Ryan and I have been blessed with and going to cause the two of us to cling to the Lord like never before? Or is it just the worrying in and of itself that is going to cause me to eventually lose my mind?

That's where that verse comes in. I have to repeat it over and over and over. I need it written on every surface in my home. The Lord did NOT give me a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. A sound mind. A sound mind. A sound mind.