Just Telling Our Story

A mess of emotions

I have been a mess of emotions lately. It typically comes with being stressed for me, and this time is no different. I'm in one of those all-too-common cycles of being overbooked and strapped too thin — with pet health issues, kids' swim lessons and baseball practices, kids' school and family holiday get-togethers, Sunday School teaching, doctor appointments, house- (or rather, land-) hunting and lots of work — and I feel like my own life is getting out of my control. I hate it when that happens.

But I can handle the stress and the mounting to-do lists, and I'll make my deadlines for work. Fortunately, the busier I am, the more productive I am, too. But the emotional side of it, well, it's a bigger challenge, I guess. It's what keeps me up at night. And two stories I have learned about in the past day have really gripped my heartstrings and pulled them to their limits.

First is Matt Logelin. He happened to be on Oprah today (which I unfortunately didn't get to watch), and I just was introduced to his blog yesterday by an old classmate from school who is now a friend of mine on Facebook. I read his blog for more than an hour last night. He is 31 years old and lost his wife the day after she gave birth to their baby one year ago. His story is heart-wrenching. It just makes me once again realize how quickly life can escape us. If you have some time, read it. Go back to late March 2008, and read the blog posts surrounding the death of his wife. One of the most touching things he talks about is that the happiest day of his life (the birth of his daughter) will always, forever be linked to the saddest day of his life (the day his wife died). They're a day apart. Matt's wife, Liz, never got to hold her baby daughter. She only got to see her once. She was on the way to the NICU to hold her for the first time when she collapsed and died of a pulmonary ambulism. Man.

Then, on Matt's blog was a link to another grieving parent's blog — that of a mom who lost her one-year-old daughter in an instant. Ironically, this beautiful little girl's name was Madeline, the same as Matt's daughter's name. And the two Maddies were playmates. It's another story that just pulls at my heart.

I cannot imagine the unbelievable grief one must feel when s/he loses a spouse or child. I pray that the day I have to experience either option either never comes or holds off for dozens of years. I know many people, even some of you, have experienced such a horrible thing, and my heart goes out to you. I cannot say I know your pain, but I feel for you...tremendously.

Reading these two stories yesterday and today made me realize — once again — how important my family is to me. I am a fortunate gal. I have an adoring husband and two awesome kids. And I want to hold on to them forever. I just pray God doesn't have other plans.

(Now that I have ruined your day, as Chad claims I did for him when I told him of Matt's story, I need to go to bed. I will probably lie awake thinking about these two families — Matt, Liz and Maddy; and Heather, Mike and Maddie — and being thankful for the family I have been given. Go hug your closest family member.)

*****

Oh, and how can I forget Stephanie Nielsen? I have been following her blog since last Aug. 16, when she and her husband were involved in a horrible plane crash. The pilot died, but she and her husband — parents to four young kids — survived. Stephanie sustained terrible burns across much of her body, and her blog is an inspiring look at her life of therapy, surgeries and just wanting to hold her kids again. She is also quite the inspiration for me as far as being a mom and wife. It is so obvious by her writing how much she adores her husband and children, and I hope that my kids and husband know I love them as much as she loves hers. Because I do.

Aren't I full of uplifting stories tonight? :o)

Thankful for a self-entertainer

Today was supposed to be the day things returned to "normal" around here—the kids were supposed to be back to school and day care after spring break; Chad was supposed to be back to work after his own spring break; and I was supposed to have a quiet house for a full day of work...a change from last week, when I was fitting work in around the kids' and Chad's schedules (and wishing I could have taken the week off, too).

I have to say, I was looking forward to it...even needing it.

But things have a way of not going as planned around here, and so we woke up to a little girl with two pink eyes. Yep. She was bound for home. Chad couldn't take the day off; he was off all last week and is planned to be off again this coming Thursday through Monday. (He's using up his saved vacation time before he loses it at the end of the month.) So, despite a busy day of work for me, including a big, looming deadline, it was Mommy's duty to take care of my little girl at home and keep her from infecting her playmates at school.

Thank goodness for our little self-entertainer.

There have been many instances in her four short years that I have been thankful for her ability to entertain herself. There are the three seasons of G's baseball games, three seasons of his soccer games, countless Sunday mornings in church (before she was old enough for Sunday school), funerals and numerous other times when I have been thankful that a coloring book, a purse full of toys or a baby doll and blanket could sidetrack her imagination just long enough to get us through necessary times.

Today, I was aware of this once again. Her pediatrician describes her as a classic introvert, a description I admittedly cringed a little upon hearing, but one that absolutely has its benefits. Her quiet reserve will serve her well in her lifetime in many ways, I'm sure, and for now, it serves us well, too. I was able to get some work done today, with just a handful of interruptions by a sweet little voice asking her mama to play with her or get her started playing with her Play-doh. The rest of the day, she was perfectly content watching her favorite movie, "Polar Express," a couple of times (in pieces, anyway); coloring; doing puzzles and making Doh-y creations. The workday wasn't a complete loss after all. And I treated my girl to her favorite lunch as a little token of my appreciation. Then she promptly gave her Happy Meal toy to her big brother when he got home. I love this girl.