Little Moments....Big Memories

My days are so busy.

So.so.so.so busy.

That's a good thing...makes the time go by at an insane speed.

But it makes me even more grateful for every little moment.  They are my big, forever memories...

Like trying to get him to put these cowboy duds on so Grandma can see the fruits of her labor!  He is really not into dress-up.  At all.  Poor Grandma, God love her, keeps trying.  He was kind enough to oblige this day.  Delicious!

I only had to bribe him with one candy heart to get this outfit on!  Grandma's cowboy! (He sure has roped Mama's Heart!)

We've been able to see Daddy on Facetime fairly often.  I am so grateful for technology today.  I remember deployments where I was SO excited if I got a letter—and that it was the number I was waiting for!  In those good old days, letters were numbered so when they came in the mail out of order, you could organize them and make sense of them.  Yes.  I am VERY grateful for today's technology!

Daddy makes him LAUGH!

And laugh....

And on another day....laugh again!!!!

 Therapy is definitely helping!  He still has quite the sideways bite (and adorable smile that goes with that!) and some muscle weakness in his jaw, but each day that improves.  More, he's becoming less and less apprehensive about trying something new.  Still won't eat it, but to even TRY it is a big deal.  As he does this, his palate will expand.  Plus, Mama is getting good at figuring out how to relieve his anxiety over the food.  So his mother's child.

Hallelujah!  He is eating a bit better...though all the quesadilla on the plate overwhelmed him.  One bite at a time, with fruit bites in between...and he FINISHED LUNCH!

Good gracious...John always gives Luke baths.  I used to be SO glad it was 'his' job because it gave me a break.  Usually to take care of dinner dishes...but still, a break.  I know why John took that job, though!  It is a lot of fun.  Luke loves it, and I love it with him!

Our favorite time of day!  BATH!  Daddy wants me to get that hair cut again...I guess I should...

I have been so overwhelmed with all the thoughtful texts and emails and packages we've gotten.  Little reminders that people are thinking about and praying for us all.  Grateful.

Sweet, sweet friends sending us love and prayers and never forgetting any of my sweet boys!

WOOOHOO!!! Eastern North Carolina got snow!  It actually was not too shabby in the accumulation department.  He went crazy!  He was so excited and wanted to go out immediately.  I loved watching his joy and his excitement.  Pure bliss!

SNOW! Yum!

 I love this picture!  It's so goofy.  (Much like him!) But mostly, I love those little teeth.  Yes, the dentist told us to start saving for braces because he has a bit of an overbite, but oh...those sweet little teeth.  Daddy affectionately calls them his Chiclets and they make me SMILE!

Silly boy...tired of pictures!

We made cookies for Daddy.  Didn't even have to bribe him with candy to put on his cooking set!  No, no...he just wanted to play with the paring knife.  Oy.

Seriously.  What joy in my heart physically looks like.

Putting the butter in cookies for Daddy!

I love his little hand behind my back.  He's starting to pat my back when I hold or hug him.  MELT.MY.HEART!

Rare picture of us both...

 I had to beg, borrow and steal my way into getting him to try icing.  Once he did, though....WOW.  He loved it!!!!

Icing...ok...not bad!

Truly, one of my greatest blessings is bringing him into bed with me and snuggling and cuddling and laughing and reading books and watching Me Mouse or Chuggington for a little treat.  We miss Daddy, alright...but his side of the bed is definitely getting its fair share of filling with this sweet thing.

Mama makes me laugh and laugh!

 This boy is too much.  He stayed up for nearly 2 hours reading.  READING.  Babbling, haha.  He is just like me.  I'd hover around my nightlight until ALL hours of the night reading.  I was (and still am) such a bookworm.  He's working his way there too!

Carbon Copy of his Mama.

 In fact...here he is reading his new dinosaur book.  He said, "Dinosaur, dinosaur, dinosaur, dinosaur, dinosaur," with inflection as if those were really the words!  The teacher in me is THRILLED with those pre-reading skills, but the Mama in me thinks it was the cutest.thing.ever.  Also, when I put this new shirt on him, I said, "Look...a baby dinosaur and a Daddy dinosaur!"  He said, very concerned, "Mommy????"

That boy LOVES ME!

But he sure is cool like Daddy!

 Goofy, goofy boy.  Made this at school.  I love all the things he does there!

Hello, Mr. President?

 The time flies.  For real.  Savoring every.single.second!

What I Don't Want To Forget...

How he calls his T-Rex "Baby."

"Baby" tucked nicely in a blankie in my bed...

The contents of my bed any given day...sharkie, Thomas, Luke, Baby, blankie, CatFancy (he loves cats and calls that magazine his Catbook) and a veggie straw...nibbled, not eaten!

How he gives a sweet, shy little smile and starts bopping his head around when TobyMac or Newsboys or Building 429 comes on the radio.

How he says, "Wheeeee!" with a precious little smile when I bust him playing in the water in the bathroom...as if to let me know how much fun he's having so I'll let him continue.

How he carries that stool around like it's a 2-ton boulder...the drama!  Yet, he lugs it everywhere.

Looking for the next light switch to turn on.  And off.  And on.  And off.  And on.  And off.

How he purposely goes to his crib to pull his boppy out, knowing full well I'm going to say, "Oh, you stinker...boppies are for night-nights!" and he giggles and runs away waiting for me to chase him.

How he goes, "Wheeeee!" as we barely go up or down small hills/curves in the road.

How he loves to read his Jesus book (The Story) because the story of the Good Samaritan has a donkey illustration and he loves to say, "Hee haw!  Hee haw!"

How he says, "Of course!" at the most random times.

How he cuddles with me when watching "Me" Mouse.

How he wants me to trace his hand or make his footprint every.single.time we are coloring or playing with paint.

Mad because I took his picture for daddy away!

How he loves splashing in puddles.

How he says, "Nein, nein, Dixie!" because Dixie licks him incessantly.

How he is so silly...such a ham...wants to make us laugh being silly.

How he knows EXACTLY which Thomas train he wants...and he's very purposeful in finding it.  "I find it."

How he goes, "Hmmmmmmmm???????" when I tell him to pick out books to read...as if he's making the most important decision ever!

How even when he's sick and at the doctor, he says, "Uh-huh!" so sweetly when I ask him if he's ok.  Such a trooper.

All smiles at the doctors! Sounds a mess; smiles like the sunshine!

How I find money in his diaper all the time because he will put any coin he finds down his shirt (his 'ocket') and it lands in his diaper.  It's like going to the bank every diaper change!

How much he loves trains.  And dinosaurs.  And construction vehicles.  Equally and ferociously!

How cute I thought it was when he drew on the wall for the first time.  With blue chalk.  And then sweetly cleaned it up for mommy.

It won't be as cute if it is a habit that continues...but I loved this...his exploration and independence.  I love it!

How he loves coming in my room and hanging in my bed, eating chips.  Yes, bad habit.  I know.  I don't care.

Living the life...

How when I told him we didn't have any 'donees' left, he said, "Tor.  Donee Tor." (Donee store.)  That boy is too much.

There is so much I do not want to forget.  Little things that I think, "I MUST WRITE THAT DOWN!" and though I am daily keeping track of the little things I fear I'll forget, there are too many.  Too many perfect, normal little moments that make my heart soar.

I am just beyond grateful for him.  

A Year Ago..

I remember feeling sick to my stomach and not wanting to take the test because I was so scared it would be negative.

Karie standing beside me and saying, "I see something.  It's turning."

Luke watching Praise Baby and "Shout To The Lord" came on.  Exactly what I felt like doing.

Incredulous...

Disbelief that these sweet little embryos...

Let me know what this looked like for the third time in my life....

I remember.  Even if no one else remembers this day as being just as significant as March 19 or May 14 to me, I remember.  Those are the days I was given a gift that is beyond all treasure.

Some Mommies do amazing things in memory.  Have releases.  Throw parties.  Start foundations.  Write books.

Some Mommies block the memory.  Say that their miscarriage wasn't  'as bad' as 'losing a baby'.  Prefer to see the loss of their baby early in pregnancy as a painful part of a road that eventually brought them the living little one(s) they now hold and may not have, had their miscarried baby survived.  Guard their hearts.

I get it.

The pain is real.  It is hard.  It hurts.  We do whatever we have to do to make it through, and I certainly get it.  No judgement.  Just sorrow that anyone ever has to figure out how to navigate these days.

Days that no matter what, we remember.

No matter what we choose to do or how we choose to remember, we remember.

Mommies always remember.

Some Real Things About Me...

I am WAY behind on a couple of things I've committed to.

In 20 years, I've fallen into John's mantra, "If you wait until the last minute, it only takes a minute to do."

Given, that's working good enough for me these days.  But, the Type A/Recovering OCDer in me still cringes.  A lot.  This is not how I pictured my life.  As a woman or a wife or a mother.

Kelly's Walking With You is perfect for me.  I'm two weeks behind in it, but you know what?  I'll get to them.  I'm just going to go back and do the ones I've missed.  I think this week's is important:

"Mothers often fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to one another. This is a trap many women fall into. We compare our families, mothering styles, fashion sense, careers or lack thereof, bodies, etc. Even mothers with babies in heaven compare the way we grieve our children. I know…sad…but we do it, if we’re honest enough to admit it. So, how can we find freedom from this? Sharing is a start…telling the truth…admitting the struggle. I think, then, we will see that we all love our children, regardless of how we choose to remember and honor their lives…whether publicly or quietly…with big parties or simple moments of remembrance. Be real on this week’s post, and let’s free ourselves from the trap of comparing!"

Yes.  Oh my word, yes.

I say I don't compare, but I do.  I almost always find myself feeling very...

Inadequate.

This morning, I needed to put some makeup on because I've been sick and I had appointments for Luke to go to and really, I just wanted to look somewhat presentable.

I don't even know where my makeup is.

Don't get me wrong—my arsenal is pretty small anyway.

But crap!  I am sort of in this pit these days where I do.not.even.care.what.I.look.like.

Yesterday, if any of my neighbors saw me when I checked the paper, they'd have seen a leopard print pajama top and an orange and green flowered bottom.

Because I have not done laundry for myself in 3 weeks.

Nothing fits me anyway.

I hate the way I am looking in clothes.  I've lost a lot of weight.  I know, it's my fault. I don't eat well.

Yada yada yada.

My face looks sunken in again.  Sickly.  I know it. I hate it.

I'm just not motivated enough to do anything about it.

People are very kind to me online.  They tell me that I look great or I have such a pretty smile, and honestly, I can't say how much I love hearing that and hate hearing it at the same time.

Trust me when I say there is no false modesty here.  I know I don't necessarily look my age.  I know that there are some pictures I take and even I say, "Wow...I don't clean up too poorly."

But really...for a long, long time, I've been feeling pretty defeated.

Mostly because I am stuck in this ugly, ugly, ugly comparison trap.

I am SO not a great military spouse.
I am SO not a fashion plate.
I am SO not the friend I WANT to be.
I am THE.WORST.MOTHER to those poor little babies I've lost.

I am SO not SO many things that I see in other women all.the.time.

I don't feel motivated to do anything to remember Matthew.  Like publicly, I mean.  I do every year for his birthday, the Pie Challenge, but I'd do that anyway.  I'm talking like parties or foundations or books or even much writing anymore unless it's something I've committed to.

I remember him.every.single.second of every.single.day.  That takes more toll on my heart sometimes than I can even muster.  Doing more?  I just don't have the energy.

Talk about guilt—comparing myself to others who are such advocates of so many different things.

Want to know something else?  I don't even want to.
Honestly.  There are more days than not that I feel like I just should close this blog and close facebook and stop writing anywhere because I don't like how it's evolved.

That people look to me for anything or rely on me for anything.

Truth is, it's hard enough just to muster the energy to be the mother I want to be for Luke. Or the wife I should be for John.

I don't know if it's just who I have become since Matthew died or if it's just this season right now that I am reliving a year ago and the new little life I had inside of me...but honestly, I just feel selfish.

I just want my world to revolve around Luke.  John, to the degree that it can right now with him gone.  Anyone or anything else is just too much.

I think part of my inclination to just hermit up is the whole comparison trap.

I always fall short.  Always.

Not busy enough. Not tall enough.  Not fashionable enough.  Not witty enough.  Not motivated enough.  Not grateful enough.  Not healthy enough. Not managing my time well enough.  Not doing enough to give back.  Not  doing enough for John.  Not doing enough for Luke.  Not doing enough for Matthew.  Not doing anything for poor little forgotten Trey.

Just not enough.

And yet—I know many people think so differently of me.  I'm not sure why; I live as honestly as I can. Yes, I post a lot of rosy posy posts on Facebook, but they are honest.  They are true.

I'm also not about to post that I've showered 3 times in the last 7 days, have probably eaten 3 meals in the last 7 days, have let my kid watch more tv in the last 7 days than he probably has in the last year, and that I *just* sent off a package to John and it was a cruddy one at that.

I already feel crappy enough! Why post that jazz?

Here's why:

To let anyone who reads and has any expectations of me know that I am a real person.

I've not done anything to my toes since November...and that was just tipping off nail polish that was still there from MAY.

My dresser drawers are so ridiculously out of order because I basically wear the same 5 things every week, there's no point in really even having them.

I wear the same pair of shoes all the time.  Day in, day out.  Sandals, no less.  I know I look weird.  They are comfortable.

I do not get anywhere near the sleep I should because I am watching some dumb trash tv show late at night. And by dumb trash tv show, I mean House Hunters.  Honey Boo Boo and Sister Wives and Amish Mafia are on earlier in the evening.

I have not cooked my poor husband a meal in probably 7 months.  Or more.  Who knows?

I know a thing or two about dysfunctional families.

My sister was told last week that she needs a heart transplant and I've yet to get in the car and drive the two hours out there.  In defense, we've been sick and I can't get her sick, but part of the reason I am sick is my own fault—I don't take good enough care of myself and if I did, I'd have been able to be out there helping her more.

I don't like it when people tell me that, either—that I don't take good care of myself. I know.  I'm very cognizant of it. Telling me obviously doesn't change it.

I don't put Luke in flannel or fleece because no matter how often I vacuum (daily, really), there is dog hair all over him all.the.time.  I am grossed out by it.  Yet, he eats off the floor all the time and I think nothing of it.

My bathroom counter is a mess.

There are a lot of people I.just.don't.like.  I know I need to love them like Jesus does, but I don't.  I don't ever let them know that, but I hate that *I* know it in my heart.

There...there's a lot of sharing there, huh?

Not sure how free of the comparison trap I feel in sharing all of this, because the reality is that I just won't ever be SO MANY THINGS, and I'll probably always compare myself to what I am not.

What I am, though...it's good enough. Just fine for me.

I'm a woman who loves her husband and though he drives her nuts sometimes, wouldn't know what to do with myself without him.

I'm a woman whose sun and moon revolve around the most amazing little gift in the form of a 2 year old named Samuel Luke.

I'm a woman who struggles with a God who goes before me and stands beside me, yet let my babies die.

I'm a woman who knows that I'll never understand how that can be, and so I just don't ask.  I look at Luke and know that the God who let my babies die is the same God who gave me such a treasure.  I don't understand, but I am grateful and willing to trust and believe.

I'm just me.

"I Don't Know How You Do It..."

Said to me so, so, so many times.

Especially lately.

Sometimes, I just give the simplest and truest answer...

The grace of God.

Seriously.  That's what it is...good day or bad, it's just the grace of God.

But people want really tangible answers.  So do I, if truthful.  Something that 'makes sense.'

And boy, do I have that answer.

John being gone for two and a half weeks has been a breeze, all things considered.

That said, I've had the proverbial "If it's going to happen, it'll be when he's deployed," things happen.

Need four new tires.  Car stuck in the garage.  Colds and stomach bugs.  Insanely busy with things to 'keep me busy'.  Big toys that need more than one person to put together.  Very, very, very sick sister.

The usual.

But...when asked how it's going, it is really very easy for me to give the honest answer of, "I can't believe it's already been nearly 3 weeks!  It's going really well!"

I'm beyond spoiled in the communication I have had with John.  I've already talked to him more in this two weeks than I did the ENTIRE first time he deployed.  All 8-9 months of it.  Talk about how far technology has come in all these years he has been in.

Also, I have an amazing little guy who is growing at WARP speed and seriously, I am trying desperately to contain it and revel in it at the same time.  It's crazy how much of this little person he is becoming.  This funny, sweet, serious, capable and engaging little boy I am watching form right before my very eyes.

Mostly, though...mostly, it's perspective.

Perspective that if honest, I'd rather not have, and yet...since I do, and there's no changing it, I'm grateful.

I can do this because he is alive.
He's as safe as one can be in war.
He's coming home in about 50 weeks, God willing.

And though I hate, hate, hate him being gone and hate, hate, hate him missing out on things with Luke—things he'll never get back—it's not the worst thing I've ever had to deal with.

One of my dearest friends and I were talking about perspective...how one person's awful really is awful because it's the worst thing that's ever happened to them.

To that point.

Even if it's not really the worst thing that could ever happen to them, it feels like it because up to that point, it is.

It's very, very easy for me to say that John being gone for a year is nowhere NEAR the worst thing to happen...or to endure.

Choosing a gravesite for my son?  Worrying about whether his long little body will fit in the infant coffin?  Deciding what words will immortalize him?  Tell the world everything I want it to know about the precious body the stone marks?  Hearing, "I'm so sorry, Lori...there's no heartbeat," and watching my doctor cry just as much as we are because losing yet ANOTHER baby is so.so.so hard?

Yeah.  Worst.things.ever.

And yet...I'm hesitant to say that even because my mind can conjure up worse.

It's really unbelievable to me that I could...but I could.  You know I could.

So John being away from us?

Too many words could be used to describe it—sad, hard, annoying, frustrating, lonely, wistful...I could go on and on.

But, in light of things I have already done in this life?  Things I never dreamed I'd have to do and would give so many things to change?

Totally, totally, totally doable.

And not just doable...doable with a smile—grateful that it's JUST a year and he's JUST where he is vice where he could be and JUST doing what he's doing vice doing what he could be...

Perspective.

How do I do it?

The grace of God.

In the form of perspective.

The Pit...

There are a million things I have planned to do this year to keep me busy while John's deployed!

Too bad that regular life already keeps me busy enough!  I need not add any more. It's already been almost two weeks and it has flown!  I'm not surprised...if nothing else, the last 3 years have taught me that time truly slips through my fingers with no regard to how I want it to move.

Time is pretty rude, actually.

One of the things I committed to was Kelly's Walking With You series, and though I did the first one, I'm about to be two weeks behind (surprise, surprise!) so I'm going to try and catch up.  Try.

Though I really didn't have time for week two's topic, I'll be honest...

I didn't want to write about it.  It's about clinging in the pit...

 "Whether or not you are new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?"

There are a lot of days I still feel like I am in the pit.  My stomach gets that same knot in my gut and I get the teary lump in my throat. Just tonight, after Luke went to bed, I stood in my stairwell for nearly 20 minutes just soaking in every detail of Matthew's pictures.  His long, long body.  How much he and Luke looked alike.  How heartbreaking it is to me that my sweet boy didn't have any of his clothes to wear at Georgetown...

I'm.right.back.there.

My sister has been really sick, and John has been gone and I've been busy with a lot of things and the mail keeps bringing me reminders of the third little boy I should be mothering and honestly, I just.don't want.to.go.back.there. any more than I already do on a day-to-day basis.


Clinging to hope was not even on my radar at first.

I was just clinging to life.  Begging God for air to breathe.  Begging Him to take me instead.  Begging Him to show Himself.

Begging Him to stop John from crying.

Just clinging to breathe.

I was overwhelmed with support.  From the second my doctor said that Matthew forced her hand and we'd need emergency surgery, seriously, I felt like the whole world instantly became my team.  Every nurse and doctor at that hospital made my son and me a priority—of that, I have no doubt.

Do you know that I posted on Facebook that he died?

That's how the world found out my son died.

Facebook.

Who the heck does that?

A woman who doesn't believe it, that's who.

I was in shock.  Healthy, perfect babies DON'T JUST DIE AFTER THEY ARE BORN.

They don't.

But mine did, and while I couldn't believe it, people rallied around me and John in ways for which I will forever be grateful.

The first days after losing Matthew are oddly a blur and forever vividly imprinted in my mind and on my heart at the same time.   The thing I remember most is holding Matthew's blanket on my shoulder for days.

I sat in my leather chair, in the corner, and held that baby in my arms, if only in my imagination with that blanket.

I patted it.  I rocked it.  I stared into oblivion wishing I was not there, but with him, as it should have been.

I know people thought I was losing it.

I was.

Just typing it brings more tears than I really feel like crying right now.

Exactly as I thought it would—which is why I didn't want to write about this.


I don't have any wise words of advice.  Grief, whether fresh or over three years later, is ugly.

When new, it pierces one's soul in a way that feels unrecoverable.

After some time has passed, grief is still soul-piercing, but in an exhausting way...a way that says even though you've tasted restoration and joy again, there are still moments you feel like you are right back in the pit.

But I can say that God does not ever waste pain.

Ever.

Amazing things have been done in Matthew's honor and though I think I have always been a compassionate person and infertility would have made me a devoted mother anyway...losing babies has taught me what is really important in raising Luke.

My house being clean and his clothes being spotless or him reading at 2 or being the most brilliant, funny little boy on the planet...doesn't matter.

There's so much that doesn't matter.

Loving him.  Him knowing he is loved.  Raising him to know how grateful we are for his life and how grateful we are to God for never leaving us...showing him that life is not perfect and still is beautiful...

Those are the things that matter.

Those are the things I cling to whenever I find myself in the pit again.

And when I cling to them...gratefully, I don't stay in the pit very long.

TriCalm—A Review and Giveway!

You all know my boy has the.most.sensitive skin.

Everyone says their kid does, I know.  People get really, really protective of their skin issue remedies.

I get it.  We all want the best for our kids, right?

So, I am always, always, always looking for things for poor little Luke that are steroid-free.

This boy has eczema so terribly that he has three pretty strong prescriptions for flare-ups, two of which thin his skin and leave it hyper-pigmented ala Michael Jackson.

Not loving that.

TriCalm offered the opportunity to try their new, steroid-fee anti-itch gel and I jumped on it!

All-natural? Yes, please!

Steroid free?  HOORAY!

The main active ingredient is an all natural product from a vegetable.  I am all about that.

I couldn't wait to try it on Luke's right elbow—the main eczema culprit.

The first time I did, he got very agitated.  Scratched at his arm.  Looked at me like I was nuts.

Next night, same thing.  He did not love it.  I did notice that his skin looked a little less angry, but he normally has no problem letting me put creams on him (so used to it!) and did not want this one.

I tried again, though...same thing.  It seemed like it was uncomfortable for him, so I stopped.

We had an appointment with his dermatologist a few days later.  I just took that tube right to the professional.

She liked it!  She liked the ingredient; liked the all-natural aspect, and liked that it was steroid free.

BUT, she warned, she would not use it on his eczema because it is an astringent, and that could burn the inflamed skin.

Which is exactly what had happened.

That was my fault, though.  TriCalm specifically works to prevent itching and irritation—and the one PLUS to Luke's eczema is that it looks far, far worse than it seems to bother him.  Well, that and his sensory issues somewhat prevent him from being as irritated as he should, but that's another story...my point is that his elbow had opened skin, but though the eczema was that bad, it wasn't itching him.  I shouldn't have used it on his broken skin.

Talking with his dermatologist more, she told me she thought it would be great to try in the spring and especially summer with bites.  Much like my son, I have pretty sensitive skin too and welt like you read about with bites. I think this would be GREAT for those bites, and so did she.  It's main ingredients work against histamine releases, which typically is why skin itches when bitten.

I usually use essential oils for bites and such, but I love having another all-natural product in my arsenal, and especially for Luke.  Especially in the spring and summer here in sunny, swampy North Car-o-li-nah!

So, if you head over to Tricalm's Facebook page, you can get samples.  Better, they are giving ME two free tubes to give to YOU!  Simply enter the giveaway below and I'll pick TWO winners this Sunday, January 27.

I'd love to know what you think of it too!

• Disclaimer: I received this product for free from the sponsor of the Moms MeetSM program, May Media Group LLC, who receivedit directly from the manufacturer. As a Moms MeetSM blogger, Iagreed to use this product and post my opinion on my blog. Myopinions do not necessarily reflect the opinions of May MediaGroup LLC or the manufacturer of the product.

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YAHOO For Technology!!!!

This morning started off FABULOUSLY!

Granted, I'd only been asleep for a few hours (I'm an insomniac anyway!) and the phone rang in the middle of a CRAZY, CRAZY dream...but at 4:06 this am, my phone rang telling me John was trying to contact me via Facetime.

Good Morning!

Steve Jobs...so loving you this morning.

John is at a midway point to where he'll ultimately be, and after he leaves this point, I will not really post much in the way of pictures like this unless he says it's ok.   He will probably not have anywhere near the access to this either, and I understand.  It's truly a matter of national security.

That said, I'm loving being able to see and talk to him when I can, and this morning was no exception.  He called again after Luke was up and eating breakfast and Luke is just starting to actually get that he can communicate through the phone...he was sending kisses, watching Daddy be silly and making faces.

What Family Portraits look like in military families these days....

I loved it.

We had our first deployment bloodshed.  Walking up the stairs to nap, Luke must have tripped (I was already at the top of the stairs waiting for him) on his recorder (he plays his 'whistle' to help develop oral muscles) and he popped his lip pretty well.  Poor boy.  He's a trooper, but he actually wanted comfort from me, which is pretty rare. (His sensory issues don't lend him to feel pain as much as he probably could/should.)  After a minute or two and some mommy kisses, he was fine.

This evening, as we were getting ready to run out for a meeting at church, the power went out.  Thankfully I'd already had his dinner prepared and he was (somewhat) eating it.  I have several flashlights in the closet, but on my to-do list was replacing batteries before the spring.

Yeah, will be doing that tomorrow am.

More fun?  My car was stuck in the garage!  Keep in mind that we've not parked that van in the garage for the year and few months we've lived here because there was too much JUNK in there until just the last week.

Seven days.  If that.  We FINALLY got it cleaned out to park and then the power goes out and it's stuck.

Yes, I could have done the emergency cord, but more trouble than it's worth.

We hopped in the truck.

I've not driven that truck in years.  It's HUGE.  It's a Ford F250 and I am a LITTLE bitty girl in a BIG OLE TRUCK.

That needed gas, ha ha.

I was rushing to get Luke in (he was throwing a fit because he's used to getting in the truck and playing with the garage door opener...which was obviously not working) and there he and I were trying to climb in the old monster truck at a quick pace.

Oy.  Our second deployment bloodshed was my skinned shin as I dropped out of the truck, haha...

I figured out where the gas tank was, filled it and parked very awkwardly in the church parking lot and went to my meeting.

Midway through, I got another Facetime attempt from John!!!!  I tried to take it but couldn't with my church's wifi settings and was so aggravated. I was able to tell him to try again in about 20 minutes, but guess what????

My sweet neighbor told me that our power was STILL OUT!

No wifi at my house either.


Dunkin Donuts to the rescue!  I asked Luke if he wanted a donee, and we headed there for their wifi.  While we ate sprinkles in the truck (daddy would cringe even more than him cringing at me driving his truck!) we waited for him to call us.

Dunkin Donuts, God love you, but your wifi service isn't the best either!

Luke was tired, I was tired and frustrated with the multiple failed Facetime attempts and I just finally squeaked in to John that we had to go home and maybe he could try later.

No success as we sat outside Dunkin Donuts trying to connect.  Luke's back there, I promise!

THEN my neighbor texted to let me know the power was on!  Hooray!  We got home and were able to talk to Daddy.  There were all sorts of electronic issues as a result of the power abruptly going off and HOORAY for Daddy being able to troubleshoot with me and get the power all working again.

Luke was BEYOND tired, but still...was glad to see Daddy!

I'm mostly back up and running.  I'll figure out the rest.

LONG evening, and yet...

I remember days of deployment where if I missed a phone call, I might not hear from him again for a couple of MONTHS.

Seriously.  I was lucky to get letters every week or so.

So I will not complain.  Power outages and frustration with Apple TV and routers and modems and facetime and ichat and google talk and all the other gobbledy gook is NOTHING in the big scheme of the way my heart flutters when we are able to see John.

Love it.  Love it.  Love it.