I had a one of those days yesterday.
A day when the list felt too long. The different roles I had to play too challenging. I threw in the towel.
“D, I am not doing these dishes. I am done with dishes. I am done today. I can’t do it all anymore. I can’t be a teacher, a mom, a home-maker, a wife, a chef. I can’t do it all!”
I coddled myself with iPad games and asked to have a night off from night time routine with Peapod.
“I’m sorry I kinda threw in the towel today.”
“It’s okay. You be with Peapod, I will vacuum now and I will get up to do the dishes tomorrow morning.”
What I heard, “I love you. I am here to help. You are doing great.”
And then because Jesus knows me so well, he sends this little nugget of a devotional to my email today, “It’s okay to be okay” from (in)courage.
So, I’m okay today and that is okay.
My grandma used to always call me a “lucky duck” and maybe I never truly understood how lucky I am.
I am loved by a God who doesn’t see my flaws or even betters, sees them and calls them beautiful.
I never want for food, shelter or clothing. In fact my husband would argue I have too many clothes!
I have a family who loves me for me and accepts it all. I have a husband who loves me, honors me and is my best friend. I have a beautiful, funny, healthy daughter.
I know I don’t show others how grateful I am enough. I know I fail at this daily but I have recently been reminded that I am a very lucky duck.
Yep, Grandma, you were right all along. I am a lucky duck.
It is so hard to believe that a year ago today our little Peapod was born.
It seems like yesterday that I woke up with contractions (dreaming that I was giving birth to Michael Orr, from “The Blindside”). A year full of time I wouldn’t trade for anything! D and I had planned on an all natural birth (no painkillers, Bradley method, birthing ball, etc…) but when we got there our little girl was in distress. After seven hours I wasn’t progressing very fast and my midwife and nurses couldn’t keep Peapod’s heart on the monitor. After trying different positions and trying an internal monitor, the OB came in and said that we had to get her out, “NOW”. Scariest half hour of my life, full of emotions and tears I was wheeled to the OR to get an emergency C-Section. I will never forget how quick things passed. Suddenly, D was in there in scrubs and a mask, holding my hand and getting ready to take pictures. The anesthesiologist was the nicest man, describing things that were happening and keeping me calm. Then they said “Lot’s of pressure!” and I heard our little girl crying!
The cord had been wrapped around her neck multiple times and she was a bit blue, but she was safe and breathing and beautiful! D followed her (under strict orders not to leave her side) to the incubator and waiting nurses. I got to see her for a few minutes before they started to wheel her out and I had to stay. My heart was wrenched. They had to take her away and all I wanted to do was feel her warm little body against my skin. She was a part of me and she had to leave me for the first time in nine months.
I had to stay and get stitched up. The amazing anesthesiologist asked me what my favorite band was and put them on the OR stereo for me to listen to. It seemed like forever, but at least Hanson was playing.
D came back when I had been wheeled into recovery, we decided on her name and I finally got to hold her. I felt whole. I felt so glowingly happy and I still do.
I cannot believe it has been a year. 365 days of Peapod in our lives. There have been trying times. Times that I do miss my pre-child life, but I would never want to go back to it. Never! Peapod is the reason I exist. I cannot wait to see the future with her and I hold on to every fleeting second while it is here.
Well, since the last time I posted this little family survived the month of “Marchuary”! Ugh, the Midwest in March was not pleasant!
And as a little survival gift to ourselves, and as all good midwesterners do, we packed up and headed south! WOOHOO! And where to you ask?
The In-Laws ALWAYS get a villa at a fantastic resort in Pompano Beach, FL during spring break and our breaks lined up! Hooray! So, after D found some super cheap, cash-flowable plane tickets, we packed up all of our bags (holy cats, the bags, the bags, the bags). Peapod has a lot of stuff she “needs” when we travel, oy!
Anyway, we were in beautiful, sunny Florida with a cabana all for ourselves (and the in-laws). We got to celebrate Easter at the local church and then spent the rest of the week soaking up the sun. Vitamin D has never felt so good! MMMMM!
D and I got some much needed sun and had some extra hands to help with Peapod, thus giving us a little bit of a rest (despite the soreness from the uber springy pull out bed).
The first time I met D, he was coming out of a camel……
I have never been a “math person”. Numbers almost literally swim before my eyes, so as the end of my junior year of high was coming to a close and I was half-way through an advanced algebra class I decided to drop out and do something that I might actually enjoy. I quit math and started drama class! Freedom!
One of my favorite teachers was teaching the class, it was definitely more in my comfort zone and it was EASY. On the first day, I walked into the class and (this is going to sound so mean, and I apologize but I was 17) I had the choice of sitting next to “The Smelly Girl” or “The Popular Boy Who Had Previously Thrown A Binder At My Head”. I chose the former.
Drama did not seem like much fun now. Sitting next to a “preppy” for the next six weeks being forced to work together, but at least I didn’t have to sit directly next to “The Smelly Girl”.
The class started and my teacher began it with an improve routine. She called on volunteers and Preppy went up. Now, I don’t remember the exact premise of this skit, but somehow or another Preppy a.k.a. D was being birthed out of a camel. Yuck, but hilarious in the moment. I started to feel an inkling of actual tolerance towards this preppy kid.
Needless to say, drama class became my favorite class of the day. First thing in the morning I got to hang out with this guy and he was proving all of my previous judgments wrong. He was kind. Funny. Still very cute. We began to partner up for things to work on outside of school. I began to notice that my teacher was pairing us together and I certainly wasn’t objecting.
I started to spend more time with him then with my actual boyfriend. “Uh oh”, high school dramatics about to ensue. After much thought, and being seen by my boyfriends best friend outside of D’s house, I was finally true to my heart. I liked D. I liked him a lot, and I wanted to spend as much time with him that I could. I remember calling D one day after school and saying “I’ll be over in a couple of minutes, I have to go break up with my boyfriend”. Ha! Scandalous! In less then 20 minutes I had driven from my house to dump my boyfriend and back to D’s house to begin the most wonderful friendship turned romance ever.
The rest of that school year was a whirlwind. I spent as much time with D as I could. He was leaving for college in the fall and I knew I wanted to keep the relationship strong. Most of my friends weren’t very supportive stating that “All long distance and college-high school relationships fail”. I wasn’t going to let that happen and I lost some friends from that choice. However, I knew this was worth it. D was the real deal and I was quickly falling for him. Who would have guessed we could later claim the title of “High School Sweethearts”
The hallowed halls of our first meeting – “Midwest High school”
I have decided today will be terrific. It is all about maintaining a positive attitude! WOOT!
Any way…on to the first time I met D.
[cue dramatic swirls of color taking you back in time to 1998]
Here’s me (on the left) circa 1998ish and my beautiful cousin!
The news on the street was that there was a new 8th grade boy at our school. This was headline news for me and my friends as we were just a tad boy-crazy. And as the year went by we heard about him, had brushes with him, heard that one of the “popular” girls was “dating” him. And, as luck would have it he rode my bus. Now, I would never actually talk to this boy but just to set eyes on the new boy was enough to make a 12 year old girl’s heart skip a beat.
I entered our large, yellow, and smelly bus #91, said “Hi” to Carl, the best bus driver ever ,and found my seat next to my best friend. Now, I don’t know about you all, but middle school is complex environment full of social do’s and don’ts, and for us one of these was the back of the bus was reserved for “way cooler” 8th graders, including the new boy.
We had a prime viewing spot to watch New Boy walk by everyday.
My 7th grade year came to a close. New Boy’s romance with Popular Girl was “over”. Summer was setting in and this was the last day to see New Boy walk by on his way to the back of the bus.
I remember that moment like it was yesterday. He was so cute, with his bleach blond tips and gel, over sized T-shirt and shorts. everything a 7th grade girl could dream of.
Well, as the bus pulled away, somebody yelled to Carl, “Can we have a paper fight?” After all, it was the last day of school and Carl was the coolest bus driver so of course the answer was “yes”. Paper throwing chaos ensued; crumpled algebra and colored maps of Europe were tossed around the humid bus as we drove towards summer vacation. And as I was enjoying the freedom to be a complete fool, I got hit in the head by something hard. OUCH!
I grabbed the light blue, plastic binder that hit me in my head. We were all required to carry these while at school. I searched the cover for a name to see what annoying 8th grader had chucked it at my head and low and behold HIS name was there. New Boy had thrown a binder at my head.
I slumped into my seat. Confided in my best friend that New Boy was a jerk/dork/nerd and I couldn’t wait for summer.
And this was my first encounter with D, New Boy, my fantastic husband! Who would have guessed that this 8th grader would turn out to be my husband. Stay tuned for the first time we officially met.
(D of course has no recollection of hitting a poor 7th grade girl in the head with his binder, though he does remember the paper fight and throwing his binder. )