Several times as I've come down the off-ramp at the Kennedy Road exit from the 401, there has been a young guy standing at the intersection with a piece of cardboard in his hands. You've probably seen something similar. The face is different, but the same sad story is on the cardboard: NO JOB. NO MONEY. WIFE AND KIDS TO SUPPORT. Or something along those lines. A cardboard testimony, of sorts.
A few months ago, my sister sent me a video on Facebook, and I watched it again just the other day and was moved by it all over again. Real church people sharing their cardboard testimonies...who they were before Christ, and who they have become because of His grace. I love the honesty of it. I think we spend so much time trying to hide things from people, giving the impression that we have it all together. I know do it.
Here's the video. Go ahead and watch it. I'll wait.
We don't all have dramatic testimonies, like being a meth addict or a cancer survivor. But we are all the same because we need Him to change us. I saw myself in some of those testimonies, and it made me wonder what I would write on my own piece of cardboard. This is what I came up with:
Tonight was our Meet the Teacher BBQ at school. Is there anyone who really looks forward to these evenings? Don't get me wrong...it's not that I'm not interested in meeting the teacher, or seeing how the kids are doing so far. They're always so proud to show us their classrooms, and to introduce us to their teachers. We like that part. We don't mind squatting on the grass to eat our burgers, and we've learned to dress properly for the always steamy book fair in the library.
Basically, we just get somewhat irritated by the other parents. You know the ones, right? The keeners who nab the teacher for 15 minutes, even though the classroom is FULL of parents waiting to talk to her. Or the ones who holler at each other across the library while about 80 of us sweat all over our purchases in the the checkout line and listen to them discuss what shirt Connor was wearing in the photo montage. But this is not a post about that. So i'll stop there and do a little shamless bragging, instead.
It was a pretty good night. The teachers had nice things to say, and the kids are all doing great work, so we were happy. I was feeling a little sheepish about meeting Will's teacher because of a project he finished a week or so ago. Each student had to design a coat of arms, complete with a family motto. Will had asked for our help with the motto part, and I had laughingly suggested "Better out than in". Well, guess what he used:
Yep. We're all about bathroom humor around here. I laughed at Will's friend's motto, which was "What could possibly go wrong?".
Will also did an assignment about himself called "I am". Darren and I really liked it, because it was witty and smart, and totally him. I liked it so much that I decided to share it with you:
I am
I am smart and funny I wonder about gravity I hear everybody talking really loud-ish I see myself as an engineer I want unlimited food and video games I am smart and funny
I pretend to play guitar I feel hungry all the time I touch invisible stuff I worry that Pluto will randomly explode I cry when I cut onions I am smart and funny
I understand Santa isn't real (sob) I say good shows shouldn't be cancelled I dream that I'm super strong and can beat everyone up (even Arnold Schwarzenegger) I try to push myself wherever possible I hope I get good marks on my report card (wink wink Miss P!) I am smart and funny
This is Lauren displaying the autobiography she's been working on. So cute! The work displayed on the wall in the background included some more info about each kid, including their goals and dreams. Lauren had put down that she wants to be a teacher one day, which didn't surprise us. But what did surprise us was the section called "My Hero", which turned out to be US. She said that we always protect her when she gets scared and we help her with her everyday problems. Sweet, right?
This is a painting Emma did about home. The caption says "A house is a safe place and a cozy place". I love it . I like how she has really, really long legs in the picture. (I think the little short person next to her is her friend Omer. He made the little cutout person, and she stuck it on.) Emma's goal for the month in her classroom was to chat less. hahaha!
A highlight of the night for me was when one of the teachers mistook me for a student! Okay, he was probably just beeing nice and in all likelihood needs glasses, but still! I'll take it. =)
My friend Michelle says that we are the Sandwich Generation...people caught between their aging parents and young children. And I have to say quite frankly that that is how I feel a lot of the time...caught.
The past few weeks have been exhausting. The kids are back at school and are starting piano lessons and swimming lessons and Tuesday night church stuff, and all of that makes for a busy week. But then you factor in a few appointments for the parents, to say nothing of taking them to the ER, picking up prescriptions at the drugstore, doing their grocery shopping or updating bankbooks (all of which we have done in the past 7-10 days), and you have yourself a whole different ballgame. Mom really hates to drive now, and Dad has told me that he actually doesn't like to drive with her. (Apparently Mom likes the outside lane A LOT, to the point that she's driving on the shoulder from time to time.) So I have become their designated driver and official senior-citizen-hauler to their various appointments. Except that sometimes it fees like I'm out with my kids, rather than my parents.
Yesterday Dad had pulmonary function tests here in Oshawa. So I had to go out to Bowmanville and pick them up, and then bring them back in for the appointment. I dropped them off at the entrance and gave them specific instructions about taking the green elevators down one floor. I dashed off to park the car, telling them that I would meet them downstairs. When I found them in the waiting room, I was relieved to see that they'd made it, and asked whether they'd had any trouble. Turns out they had been up to the floor where the babies are, and then somewhere else before finally making it down to the basement level WHERE I TOLD THEM TO GO.
So we're sitting in the hall waiting for Dad's turn, and Mom keeps making references to what we did when we were here last time, and whether this was the same place we went to the last time, etc., even though Dad and I kept telling her that we hadn't been to this place before. She finally says "Well, I'm sure we HAVE been here before, because that door (pointing at it) looks VERY familiar to me!" At which point I was fed up and said "Maybe it just looks familiar to you from when you saw it 5 MINUTES AGO when you were taking a grand tour of the place."
But then we're finally done and on our way out. I tell them that I will run on ahead and get the car and then meet them at the MAIN ENTRANCE. I say to Mom "Follow this green line to the blue elevator over there and take it up ONE FLOOR ONLY. Then go around to the main entrance." So of course, I end up sitting out front waiting and waiting and waiting for them. After zipping around to the other entrance to make sure that they weren't waiting at the wrong door, I come back just as they are coming out the front doors. I asked them where they'd been and Mom said "Where HAVEN'T we been?". Appparently they rode the elevator for a few minutes, got off again in the basement and then somehow managed to make it to the main floor, and eventually to the front entrance. I'm exhausted just thinking about it all over again.
Two minutes into the drive home, and Mom gets her keys out...jingle jingle jingle. We still have a stop to make along our 20 minute ride home (jingle jingle jingle), but let's get those keys out so that we're ready to unlock the front door the instant the car rolls to a stop in the driveway. Here's something you should know about me: I have a really low tolerance for fiddly noises like that. You can ask my kids...we have coined the word fissiling, as in WHO THE HECK IS FISSILING THAT PLASTIC BAG BACK THERE???
I don't know which was worse...the jingle jingle of the keys, or Mom psyching herself up to change her PIN number at the bank (our last stop before home). Every 2 minutes, I'd hear some variation of the following:
"OK, so I just say to them (jingle jingle jingle) that I need to choose a new PIN number for my card."
"Yes, Mom."
"And then I just choose my password." jingle jingle jingle
"Yes, Mom."
Lather. Rinse. Repeat. OH MAN. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry or just grab those keys and hurl them out the window.
I love my parents dearly, and I realize that getting old can't be much fun, especially when you lose your independence. Dad would love to be able to drive himself wherever he needs to go, and to have the energy and abilities that he used to have. Mom has a whole anxiety thing going on that we haven't figured out yet, and she doesn't want to do a lot of the things she used to do. So I find myself talking to them like I do my kids...reassuring them, comforting them, encouraging them, and occasionally nagging at them to stop their squabbling or put on their seatbelts. Some days, the sandwich seems like a nice turkey with mayo, lettuce and tomato on a yummy croissant. Other days it's more like the one I found in Will's lunch box last week (left there since the end of June)...green and fuzzy and totally gag-inducing. I guess I'll settle for somewhere in between.
Well!That was a hiatus and a half.We had a bit of a wild ride this summer, and I had absolutely no energy left for blogging.The cousins came for VBS and stayed for 2 weeks in July, which is always a good time.I spent the week after they left trying to catch up on some work and get myself organized before we headed to Syracuse at the end of the month for Sam’s birthday.
We got to Syracuse on the 24th, which is when things started getting hairy.Within an hour or so of arriving at Kimberly’s house, Darren said “hmm…I’ve got a real cramp” and he pointed at his lower abdomen.I said “GOOD LORD, IT’S NOT A KIDNEY STONE, IS IT?” (like the kind, compassionate person that I am).He said “oh no, I don’t THINK so”.HA.Within 5 minutes, he was doubled over in agony, and we were on our way to the hospital.We had travel insurance, but I was uptight anyway because I was immediately envisioning all kinds of huge problems…like he wouldn’t be able to pass the stone, or maybe the morphine wouldn’t work, or it would be obstructed and maybe he’d need surgery, etc., etc.I’m basically a “the glass is bone dry” kind of person.
Fortunately, after about 10 mg of morphine, an x-ray and 2 ½ hours at the hospital, the pain eased off and we were able to go home.But now I was worried about how the week would shape up.The kids and I were planning to stay for the week, but Darren was heading home on Sunday because he had to start work at a new job on Monday.I did not at all feel good about him driving home by himself…what if the stone started up again?However, he passed the stone on Saturday, and I felt that I could safely let him go home while the kids and I stayed.We said PHEW!GLAD THAT DRAMA’S OVER.
So Darren left on the Sunday.On Monday morning, Emma told me that her tummy hurt.You have to understand, she says this quite a bit.So I told her that probably she was a little constipated, which is my usual response.She didn’t seem too bad during the morning, but as the afternoon went on, she was obviously not feeling well.She threw up at dinnertime, and Kimberly, Richard and I said “ah…stomach flu”.We entertained some less than charitable thoughts about Richard’s sister and brother-in-law for a few minutes, thinking that their kids had brought the plague to the house on the weekend.
I was up with Emma all Monday night.And I was anxious.Something about it didn’t seem right.At about 3 or 4 am, I was googling “kids green vomit”, but surprisingly, there was not a lot of pertinent information. On Tuesday she seemed better.She didn’t have a fever and was able to keep down crackers and ginger ale.But at dinner time, she told me her tummy really hurt A LOT when she got up to go to the bathroom, and when I took her temp, she was 100.3.To make a long story short, I googled symptoms for appendicitis, and after calling Darren and our travel insurance people AGAIN, Kimberly and I headed to the ER.
What a night.Even now, it’s a big blur, but some of the things that stand out in my mind include the image of Emma’s little face, so pale under her tan…Kimberly bribing her to drink the CT contrast stuff for her x-ray (“just 5 more sips Emma, and then I’ll let you sleep for 10 minutes”)…trying to catch even a few minutes of sleep while leaning on a hospital laundry hamper type thing…steeling myself to use the hospital bathroom (blech)…Kimberly and I cleaning out our purses at 1 am, and finding the whole process inexplicably hilarious…shivering in my lead vest with a combination of anxiety and cold while Emma had her CT scan at 1:30 am…my enormous sense of relief and dread at hearing that she did in fact have appendicitis…and Kimberly and I squeezed into an oversized chair, trying desperately to get some sleep before Emma’s surgery (no such luck).
It all felt very surreal.Emma went for her surgery at about 7:30 Wednesday morning and was very brave as they wheeled her down the hall.I really don’t think she had too much of a clue about what was going on.Kimberly and I went and got some really crappy tea from the cafeteria and then cried in the waiting room for a while until Emma’s wonderful doctor came in and told us that the surgery was over.Her appendix had ruptured, so she was a pretty sick little girl and would wind up being in the hospital for a week on IV antibiotics.
It feels like this one event took over our whole summer.Our annual camping trip had to be scrapped because Emma had to take it easy for the first 2 weeks after she was out of the hospital, and couldn’t do any lake swimming for the rest of the month, anyway.She really didn’t feel 100% until about the last week in August.And by then it was time to get organized for school.
I still feel like I’m trying to catch up and get into the fall routine, and yet the other day when I was driving to school with the kids, I felt like the summer hadn’t even happened…like this has just been the longest school year EVER. This post certainly has been long enough, so I'll post my Emma-in-the-hospital pics separately. Thanks for stopping by!
These are some pictures we took while Emma was in the hospital. Blogger would not let me do what i wanted to do with them, so they are just chucked on here in a row. I have to figure out how to do what i want to do with my pictures on here! For now, i'll put a little commentary about the pictures under each one.
This was how she was for the first few days. SO EXHAUSTED. We were able to cheer her up with some stuffed animals, however. Bebe even made a trip to the zoo to get the red panda you see in this picture!
Even hugging the stuffed animals didn't always help! She loved the Pink Google that Aunt Eness and the cousins had delivered to her from the gift shop. She basically sat holding her "stuffies" for the first few days, watching the Disney Channel on the TV over her bed. Let me just say that if i never again see another episode of The Wizards of Waverly Place, it will be too soon.
Will hogging the big (and only semi-comfy) seat in the room. This would be the chair that Kimberly and I crammed into in an attempt to get some sleep before Emma's surgery. Needless to say, we had no luck whatsoever. This is actually a pullout, where i slept (or Darren did) each night.
Lauren had the right idea. Why sit on an uncomfortable chair when Emma's using less than half of the bed? One of the thousands of interns/residents/doctors that came by to check Emma out at regular intervals saw the girls sitting together on the bed and said "Oh, are they twins?".
Up and around! For the first few times she was up, Emma walked all hunched over like a little old man. She didn't enjoy the getting up and moving around part because she felt dizzy and had more pain. However, we dragged her and her pole down the hall to the playroom at the end of the hall and played games of hangman on the chalkboard.
Discharge day! We were SO excited to be getting out! Sammy and Bebe came to pick us up, and Sam got to share the wheelchair with Emma. He looks a little anxious because the male nurse who had wheeled us out to the parking garage had just popped a bit of a wheelie with the chair.
