Something My Mom Said

With in the last several years, I have seen my share of traffic problems and accidents; and have been forced to call 911 more than I ever expected that I would do.  So much so that I will not even be able to share with you all of what I have seen or choices I have had to make.  I have even been in a nasty car accident myself where rescue workers said that when they came up on the scene they had feared the worst case scenario.  I have even witnessed another accident which included a van clipping a huge interstate sign, flipping about and ejecting the front passenger who we saw lying on the side of the road.

Lately, however, I have witnessed more and more things on the road than I ever thought a person like me would see or have to deal with, especially when I am not on the road as regularly as so many other people I know.  The things that I have been privy to seeing lately, have often left me speechless and dumb founded.  Also, I have been left to make choices that I didn't like being forced to make.

Now I have reported a few reckless drivers in my time, but I am talking about other situations that have left me making choices.  There was the time a few years ago when I had Sky Baby and Pretty Paizy in tow with me when I witnessed another vehicle run into another vehicle who was in their blind spot when they were trying to change lanes.  Debris went flying and my Ford Escape got a few pieces, but as I was trying to avoid the mayhem, the car that had been struck took off while the vehicle who collided into them pulled over. I had a choice to either stay or to go; and I decided to go.  I figured there was some reason the other car was fleeing the scene and even though they didn't cause the accident, they should have stopped.  As I drove I decided to catch up to the fleeing vehicle and I dialed 911 on my cell to report the accident and its location and I proceeded to provide the dispatcher the details and tags of the vehicle I was pursuing; and then I retreated from the higher pase and went on my merry way to visit a friend and my twin that morning.

You are probably beginning to wonder about my mom and whether this has anything to do with her.  It does.  Keep on reading.

Two years ago, I came up upon a grizzly scene while driving to my friend's bachelorrette party.  I had just called 911 to inform them that a flare from a small fender bender a ways back had caught the dry grass ablaze.  I thought that would be the most eventful part of my two hour journey, but I was wrong.  Ahead was a flipped black SUV with a pink blanket hanging out of one of its windows.  I noticed the body laying on the cement covered with a plane white sheet.  My heart sank deep into the pit of my stomach.  Later, I found out that the driver was not wearing a seat belt and she was ejected from the vehicle and immediately had died from her injuries while the teen aged passenger was injured but was expected to live. 

Lately, however, there have been other moments of decisions while driving.  Back in October as I was journeying down the interstate to take my girls to see my college volleyball team play, we barely were on the road when I noticed a man on an overpass on the wrong side of the guard rails!  He was walking slowly further out over the interstate and with each step he was taking he was with in, and I mean with an inch or two, of his death.  I gasped at what I saw, and so did Sky Baby who saw the same thing.  I quickly grabbed my smart phone, however, I discovered dialing a touch screen while trying to drive safely and merge all the way back over to the emergency lane was difficult.  By the time I pulled over safely and was able to call we were several yards from the overpass.  I dialed my phone and called for help and described what I had seen.  I then tried to decide if I should stay but what good was I where I was versus traffic?  And if the man should tumble into the traffic and pavement below, I did not want the girls to see it.  I chose to keep going.  If I was up on the overpass I would have stopped and tried to may be talk the man down.  I could not tell if he was under the influence of something or if the poor fellow was trying to end his life.  But from my vantage point,  there wasn't more I could do but to pray and continue on.  I just couldn't have the girls see anything like that at their age... I just couldn't and by the time I would be able to turn around and get to the actual overpass from above, help should have been there.  The girls and I barely muttered a word to each other after that and during the rest of our hour drive.  I just kept praying and praying for that man over and over again.  My friend L called me as we were driving into my old campus and she and I prayed for the individual together, before the girls and I continued on to watch the game and try to have fun.

You all may be REALLY wondering where in all this traffic talk does her mom come into to play? Just keep reading and you will see.

A few weeks later, my twin and I got on the road to attend a friend's baby shower.  I was 9 months pregnant and a bit tired, and I was doing the driving.  As we were trying to figure out the directions and where we needed to go, we almost got creamed bad, I mean really bad, by this crazy driver who swerved around one vehicle already in the intersection and then she barely dodged us as I slammed on the brakes.  She sped through the intersection.  Our hearts leaped out of our chests just about.  Took me and Big Boy sometime to calm down as my heart rate was sure racing.  We enjoyed the baby shower and got back on the road sometime later when I started to experience contractions as I drove.  By the time we got back to my neck of the woods, my twin had convinced me that I needed to go to the hospital and Scot agreed.  We thought that it was perfect timing because my sis was there and was able to watch the kiddos for me!

Scot and I got into the car as my contractions were about 2 to 4 minutes apart.  As we headed to the hospital we were stopped by a traffic light.  As we sat there at the intersection, a vehicle took an obscenely wide turn.  So wide infact, I thought she was going to hit our stopped vehicle with no where for us to go.  She got so close to us infact, that I could see the daze in her eyes and right away, I mean right away, I knew she was under the influence of something.  Luckily, she missed us but she couldn't do the same thing for the traffic light pole that she collided directly into.  We were stunned at what just occurred when the light turned green, but Scot continued through the intersection telling me that we couldn't stop because of my contractions and that we should just call 911.  I snapped at him stating that I wasn't so bad off that we couldn't stop, especially when I noticed NOT one other driver who was at that intersection who also witnessed the girl hit the pole, had stopped.  And with all due respect to Scot, he did have some reasons for wanting to proceed onto the hospital because two out of three of my previous labors and births, I experienced what are known as flash births--basically, when a woman goes from zero to something in no time flat in regards to labor and a baby just kind of pops on out before doctors, nurses or hubby are barely ready.  So with me having contractions every 2 to 4 minutes, Scot did have cause for concern; however, in the end, I won out and we turned right back around.  And thank goodness for that decision because that blond chick was so drunk she tried to walk into traffic and got very combative with my husband.  If we did not stop and watch her until the police got there, she most certainly would have walked into the busy road that night.  By the time we got to the hospital, my labor began to stall out.  We sat there for a few hours to only be told that it was a false alarm, or that the adrenaline of what I had seen had shut labor down.  It was a bummer but I felt like God had a plan for us to be there that night. Between the near wreck in the earlier part of the day, traveling, exhaustion and a little dehydration, I experienced contractions that landed me heading off to the hospital that very evening to help prevent that girl from causing further harm to herself.

Okay...okay... my mom's part is coming up!  I assure you!  Keep reading!

A few weeks ago, I was driving down the interstate near our home after Big Mac's (I can't decide which nickname I like for my youngest on here the best... Big Boy or Big Mac?) appointment with our pediatrician.  The girls were at school, so it was just me and the boys.  We merged from one roadway to another when I looked ahead and noticed brake lights being applied ahead through the heavy rain and slight fog.  I firmly applied my brakes realizing that something had occurred or was occurring.  If it wasn't for the rain and fog, we would have scene what was occurring I am sure of it, because it was just ahead of us.  As we got a bit closer we realized that a red SUV was on its roof and debris from the one vehicle accident was across all four lanes of traffic and the vehicle had ended up right in front of a school bus.  Thankfully, the bus driver had been able to successfully come to a halt with out hitting the lone SUV.  As we were right up on the mess, I started to evaluate the situation.  Other drivers were getting out of their vehicles and heading to the SUV.  Two women were already on their phones.  I have been trained in CPR but didn't know if they needed that help from me.  I realized that there was movement from inside the car.  The driver was shimming out of his vehicle on his back and by way of his broken windshield; and his head was bleeding.  I can help apply pressure, I thought to myself.  I do have latex gloves in my car, but what about my boys? 

See it was nasty out and if I left my boys in the van where I was currently at that very moment, I would risk my van getting slammed from behind with my precious boys in it.  Nope that was no good.  Then I looked up and thought that I could park up ahead and to the right but that would place my young boys by themselves and farther from me than I would prefer.  If they were older, I would stop I thought as I drove the van through the only clear path available to pass the carnage.  Then I decided to continue on home.  In order to help, I would put my young kids at risk and if I went to help the driver, I would be too concerned about checking up on my kids that I wouldn't be much help anyways to the driver; therefore, I decided to head home and we did.  I prayed all the way home as Little Man sat quietly stunned at the site he had just seen and Big Boy was sleeping.  We pulled in front of our house when Little Man remarked about what he saw.  I could tell that he was shook up by what he saw; and so, he and I sat in the van and prayed together before we got out.  Little Man kept talking about the "broken truck" the rest of the day.  It was kind of sad.

Anyways... here is where my mom comes into my overly, detailed, background information.  I called my mom when we got inside because I was shaken up too.  I had felt like God told me to go, but Satin was stepping in and filling my head with lies such as I didn't care; I should've stopped; and I was a terrible person for not stopping.  I called my mom to see what she would have done in my shoes and to, I guess, get some affirmation about my decision to go.  As she and I talked she confirmed that she would have done the same thing if she had small kids in the vehicle.  And with all that I have seen, especially that of lately, and knowing that compared to many others, my time on the road as a stay-at-home mom lends to limited highway driving and yet I have seen so much for the time given on the road, I asked my mom, "Why am I forced to make such hard decisions?  And why does God keep placing me in these situations on the road?"

For which she replied, "May be to just pray for them."

(How simple and true.  How profound... what a good reminder!)

Thumb Sucking Trigger Thumb

So Little Man has not seen any specialist since his gastro-interologist let him loose several months ago, which has been a huge blessing in deed.  However, after observing Little Man's thumb sucking thumb getting stuck in an almost locked bent position a few times, that trend ended.  After witnessing his thumb get stuck and Little Man running to us to help him free it from its locked position a few times that often included a small popping/snapping sound (as well as he snapping it back into place himself once), we decided to discuss it with his pediatrician who recommended that we take him to a pediatric orthopedist.  And so we did.

Little Man was seen this week and right away the orthopedist agreed with our pediatrician that he has trigger finger/thumb when he felt the knot and after an x-ray was performed.  Trigger finger and thumb is a problem that is associated with inflamed tendons, which are located within the protective covering known as the tendon sheath.  Thankfully, the doctor believes that Little Man's trigger thumb is a minor case at this point and nothing else further will be done.  We are to keep an eye on it, and if at some point, it remains in a locked position, or starts causing him pain, we will look at options.

At this point, however, we are happy to pursue nothing further, because even at age two and a half, he still loves to suck that thumb and we did not enjoy ascertaining the thought of dealing with any fits or extreme loss on his part at this age because he has been forced to be unable to suck his thumb.  We do realize although that at some point soon he will need to stop, and that surgery, or a brace, could have aided that for us...but well...for now he is still able to suck his thumb! 

Candles

A few weeks ago, I celebrated another birthday.  Like many birthdays, there was a cake and some candles.  In my case, my husband and my crew provided me with an ice cream cake complete with some candles.  We gathered around our table as the kids were excited to see me blow out the candles and started singing to me the usual chorus with some of their own twists from which I am still puzzled as to where their newer renditions have come from like "Cha! Cha! Cha!"  Anyways, as their singing concluded it was time to blow the candles out for which the kids shouted, "Make a wish Mommy!"

Like years past, my wish was more of a quick resounding prayer that I would pray to myself than an actual wish.  As I closed my eyes after looking around the dining room, the usual wishful prayer changed.  It was different from years past.  It became one of thankfulness and gratitude instead of want and desire.  When I had looked around the room, I truly realized how blessed I was because for the very first time in a very long time, I felt that my family was complete.  I felt like finally all the missing little pieces were together.  I no longer had anyone missing from my table like I had felt for so long.  There were no more empty seats at the table.  I felt content and tears welled up in my eyes.  I quietly thanked God for my four little blessings and for Scot, and I blew out my birthday candles. 

In a post a long time ago, I had alluded to the fact that Scot and I had been thinking about adopting a fifth child.  As of right now, that is off our table.  I feel like God has told me at this time, the birth of Big Boy has completed our family--our family of six.  While I am blessed to no end for every single one of my children and I love them all, I do believe at this time, God has whispered to me that this is the number of children we are to have right now and not to actively seek anymore.  While I love my children deeply and have plenty of love to spread around to them all, I do feel that physically there just isn't enough of me to go around some times, especially when more than one child so often seems to need me at the same time any given time.

Sure, when the dust settles, and my newborn isn't a newborn anymore, and after we all have adjusted, some of you may think that my feelings will change.  And perhaps it will.  However, for now, I do not believe that will be the case.  Scot and I have considered many things about adoption and don't believe it is the best for us, or the adoptee for that matter, at this time, and will not be pursuing it any further.  While we believe in orphan care and I desire to some day do something in regards to it, we have been careful to consider the affects of adoption upon us, our marriage and family as a whole.  Also, for lack of better words, we want to ensure that we are not jumping on the band wagon, or trying to join a fraternity or brotherhood so to speak.  (And by no means am I trying to offend anyone and speak ill about the work that is going on and growing in my church and other churches around the area. Please understand that...  Hopefully, you will know what I am trying to say.)  We need to feel absolutely led by God.  If it is to happen, He will lay down the road before us.

As of now, we are to be a family of six.

Not In Vain

When I made my last post for this blog, as well as for my other blog, I did not at all imagine that this post would be the next one I would write.  I definitely had other ideas in mind; however, the awful events that took place on 12/14/12 at Sandy Hook Elementary School and the 26 innocent victims, especially that of the 20 precious babies that were lost, my original plans changed.  I want to let people know that those lives that were ended so soon and so abruptly will never be forgotten in my eyes; and that they simply, not a single one, died in vain, especially for me and in my personal life. And I want to explain briefly how and why they have affected me more deeply than just the tears I have shed for them since.

These victims will leave a mark in this world--a legacy--that goes much deeper and much farther than the political platforms and forums that will arise in regards to gun control and mental health care in this country.  (Not negating that may be gaming especially that of a violent nature and violence in movies for the seemingly purpose of just displaying acts of violence, should also be addressed.) As I do admit that I have been re-evaluating some aspects on my own beliefs of the subject matters at hand, I am compelled to describe that for which has affected me more deeply and personally than politics at this time; and it stretches far beyond just me but to my family as well.

Over the last several months to a year, I sadly admit that I was becoming an angry mom.  I would choke up when people would tell me how good of a mom I was and am, and that is why I can have four kids and handle it so well...so well?  I wasn't handling my children and motherhood as well as I should have been and as well as people thought.  I often knew it when people spoke so highly of me.  Behind closed doors and some glimpses in public, angry mom would rear her ugly face.  Over the last year, life hasn't been easy for me and as I mention that I will not divulge on it any further or try to make it into an excuse, but I handled it all poorly. When the four walls of life came closing on in, my children who are with me so often got the brunt of it with me yelling at them.  After my kids would be at the receiving end of me losing my patience, with yelling, which was simply not edifying to them nor to me as their mother, I would repent to them and to God as well.  True, some people could state that I was pregnant and dealing with hormones, or that I was dealing with post-pardon, but it was beginning to become more frequent than I would like and I knew it.  I struggled with how to overcome it I am afraid.  I didn't know how and I tried various ways.

I wanted to be slow to anger, which I simply wasn't at the time  And I knew there was the difference between being stern versus raising my voice to the point of yelling.  Over the last several days I have approached motherhood differently and more calmly.  I have become slow to anger with the many trials that come up in being a parent.  After this shooting and when thinking of those children coupled with that of my own, I realized that I don't want my children to remember me as being angry, or yelling.  I don't want them to ever question my love for them up until the last breath that either they, or me for that matter, will take.  I want them to go out in the community with out remembering the rush of the morning or the hustle-and-bustle of the day, that yelling at them to do things in a timely matter, for instance, was the last thing they had to reflect upon of me and my relationship with them.  I want more for them.

I have CHOSEN to change and it is because of those lost at Sandy Hook Elementary.  And if their lives lost meant that my life was changed, as well as that of my children and inherently my childrens' children, then I know in my heart of hearts, that those 26 lives lost, and of that, the 20 angel babies who died that awful day, DID NOT DIE IN VAIN.  They have affected me deeply, more than these words can express.