Up before the Sun... Again!

Yes, another very early morning for me. Carson fell asleep about 6 pm last evening, and woke at 4 am this morning. Sigh. I am sooooo tired.

Somehow, despite getting up so early, and not getting a nap, I was able to be productive yesterday. Steve and I managed to get almost all of the laundry washed and dried, and dumped into an unused crib in the unused baby's room. In other words, we have a whole lotta folding to do. The crib is full. We also were able to do a lot of cleaning in the main part of the house. It's nice to have a neater house. I won't say it is completely clean, we didn't get to the floors, but it is well on it's way.

I have really enjoyed watching Carson play by himself this morning. He is on the couch now playing with some sort of truck, saying "beep, beep, beep" as he drives it on the cushions. Kids are so different when they are alone versus in a group. My kids are almost always in a group, and Carson, being a typical 2 year old, in my experience anyway, does not like to share. He flat refuses to share his motorcycle toy. He will carry it around all day, clutched to his chest like it is made of precious metal. We have decided not to fight that battle any longer, and have instead told the other boys that the motorcycle belongs to Carson, and asked them to leave it alone. I know that this is probably not fair, but I have told them that they may choose a toy of their own to try to make it up to them. I have also reminded the big boys that they each have their own blankets that they carry around and no one is allowed to touch.

My Carson is such a beautiful boy. His brothers would correct me and say that instead he is handsome. He has a pile of dirty blond curls, fuzzy on top and tight in the back, that he twists into knots a couple of times a week with his sweet obsession with hair, he would twist mine into knots too if I would let him. I have not had his hair cut yet, at this point it is just barely long enough to cut. He has these green/brown eyes that sparkle like no other, and chubby little baby cheeks. In my eyes, which are admittedly biased, he looks just like a little angel.

Although, I am fully aware that he doesn't always act like an angel. He's two. Two is obviously a tough age. He is not a baby, yet still baby-ish. He still wears diapers or pull ups, he still takes his beloved be-be (aka pacifier). He has little tantrums that leave him kicking and screaming on the floor when we cannot understand him or satisfy his want of the moment. He is a big talker, with a heavy southern drawl. One and two syllable words are elongated to 3 or 4 syllables. The word house turns into hh-oww-oo-sss. It is about the most adorable thing I have ever heard, I love to just hear him talk. He is also a very good driver, he laps the house many times daily on his mini-Gator. He goes as fast as it will take him, skillfully avoiding obstacles like stumps, lawnmowers, and brothers.

Cars, as I call him about half the time, loves his brothers. Well, most of the time. He and Connor tend to tangle more than any of the rest of them. Being just days less than a year apart certainly contributes to their tangles. That, and they are both stubborn little boogers. Carson loves his Cadan the most, though, he calls him "Bubba." I strongly discouraged that for a long time, but in the end, it doesn't matter that much, and Cadan loves that Carson calls him that. I do too, it is like a term of endearment from little brother to big brother. Carson also does the role of big brother to Corbin very well. He calls him "Borby Ga-ga" and I have no idea where the ga-ga part came from. I bet Carson kissed his newborn baby brother 1000 times in the first week of his life. Now, he doesn't kiss him quite as much, but loves playing games of peek-a-boo and sharing cars, just not the motorcycle.

Carson tends to be more of a Daddy's boy these days, which is a little heart wrenching for me. When he was smaller, he wanted me or no one at all. I like to think he loved my cuddles and singing of lullabies, but truthfully, I had the longest hair for him to play with, and I let him do it, which Daddy would not. Now he dutifully follows his Daddy around, doing whatever Daddy asks. Major meltdowns happen when his Daddy goes anywhere without him. I don't know what it would be like if Steve ever went back to work.

Well, I could go on and on about my third little boy, I could go on and on about any of the four of them, but today Carson was really on my mind. As I said I was really enjoying watching him play by himself. Alas, though, that time is over, and Cadan and Corbin are now awake and about.

Early morning rambling

I am up really, really early today. I am enjoying some quiet time and some coffee. It's nice being up early without any real reason, although, I really probably regret it later today.

Steve and I want to have a "work day" today. The house is a mess and the laundry is piled up. Isn't every house like ours with 4 kids 5 years old and under?

We have some projects that we want to work on, too. We have decided to move the crib, which we rarely use, out of our bedroom, and move a second bed into our room. Now, we already have a queen size bed in our room, but those above mentioned children refuse to sleep in their own beds, so we are going to put a full size bed in there as well. There won't be too much room to move around, but hey, at least there will be room to sleep. As is is now, Steve ends up in the spare bedroom with no kids, and I end up in our room with all 4 of them.

Since his accident last May, he has been mostly sleeping in the spare bedroom anyway. At first it was because I was so pregnant, and he was is a cast and a sling. Then he had shoulder surgery in December, and again in January.

The other night, we tried to sleep together, with baby Corbin tucked snug between us. We weren't even asleep yet when Connor came into our room and wanted in "Mommy's pot," otherwise known as my spot in the bed. Soon after, Cadan comes and sleeps at the foot of the bed. Remember that this is just a queen size bed? Steve gave up at that point. He moved on to the spare bedroom, and the Carson came and took his place. Ahhh.... The days of undisturbed sleep are such a distant memory.

We are also preparing for a yard sale! We have massive amounts of stuff that we need to sale. Although, there are not a whole lot of baby clothes to sell, I have mostly given those away to my friends and family. We do have lots of house stuff, and I have a ton of clothes from my pre kid days. I wonder how much Steve is actually going to part with? He is such a pack rat!

Life marches on...

As life goes on by, I am starting a new journey towards wellness. Total wellness, within and without.

I am currently studying meditation, courtesy of one of the kindest ladies I have never met. Although, she is always there when I ask for help. She always has kind words of wisdom. She is a friend I may never meet. Unless I get over my fear of flying. She is a big sister that I never knew I wanted.

My boys are well. Cadan will start kindergarten in a couple of weeks. Connor is 3 years old and struggling at that time between being a toddler and a preschooler. Carson is 2 years old, and well, he is just typical 2. Baby Corbin is walking, and babbling, DaDA, MaMa. It's just adorable. They all are.

Steve is doing better every day. I credit his recovery to the continued prayers from around the world. The very night of the accident, as I was on the way to the trauma center, there were prayers going up as far as Australia. I know that in that moment, God heard my crys and answered our prayers.

If you get a chance, please check out http://www.mycharmingkids.net/ and read Stellans' story. This little boy and the MckFamily has touched a place deep in my heart. Please remember him in your prayers.

Thinking of John

John was the first person who helped me when I arrived at the hospital after Steve's accident. I remember being incredibly annoyed because he was on the phone with someone else when I, with my tear stained face and 6 month pregnant baby walked up to the Emergency desk to find out where my husband was and in what condition. It seemed like forever that I waited. I wanted to be angry.

Then John cradled the phone and turned his attention to me. I don't quite know how to describe this moment, as I stumbled with simple sentences, pleading in my heart for this stranger to tell me to just go home, there was no Steve there, it had all just been a mistake. That wasn't to be, though. John's kind face calmed me. His steady voice was like a guiding light in a haze of terror. He searched for the information that I needed. He showed empathy with his gestures, with his voice, all the while I was fighting this anger, this denial, and insisting that we had good insurance. Silly, huh? As it turned out, Steve had arrived at the trauma center as a John Doe, his ID had been lost in the accident. This was further terrifying, and added to the delusion that I held that it was NOT my Steve on that motorcycle.

Once the facts had been laid out, and there was no doubt that this was my Steve, my husband, the father of my children, John immediately made his was into the trauma area. When he returned to the waiting area, where I was waiting, his face told the brutal truth. This was a bad deal. Quickly thereafter, a friend of a friend arrived and spoke with John. This friend of a friend happened to work in the trauma unit, and was admitted to see Steve. This friend delivered the grim list of injuries. John watched from the desk, walked over with tissues, floated in the background as this frenzy took control of me, of my life, of our lives.

As family and friends began to arrive to wait for news of Steve's condition, John watched over us. It was really as if he were sent by God to be my guardian on that day. There are no words to describe the stranger I met that awful day.

Finally my mother in law and I were permitted to see Steve. Wow. It was like being in the middle of my worst nightmare. Quietly, once again, John stayed in the background while I kissed and love my injured mate, while I pleaded with God to save him.

Later on in the night, once Steve was settled into the Trauma ICU, John led the group who had gathered up to the room. That was one of the longest walks ever. I was led by John to a place I never wanted to have to be, but there I was, and I was getting strength from a stranger. A stranger.

What I have written doesn't tell the story I want to tell. I don't know how to say the things that I want to say.

I think of John often. He was such a pillar for me in those dreadful days. A bright light.

Someday, I hope I can find him and thank him, again.

Still going...

and still making it.

It's amazing how life can turn out.

I have been doing a whole lotta thinking lately about the things that make me go, you know, get up in the mornings. Lately, just getting up in the mornings has been a horrible struggle. Depression seems to have creeped back into my life. I am fighting, but I feel weak and tired. It's like I have exhausted all of my resources and now have nothing left to fall back on. No one wants to hear my struggles anymore, I have had too many. No one wants to hold my hand anymore, I should be strong enough by now. I feel like I am running out of time.

I am really not doing well at work. I know that I need my job to provide for my boys, but I just don't have the energy to coddle every person who has had one failed internet connection. Really! Please restart your computer and try again. That usually does the trick! Obviously, it doesn't work every.single.time, but please, refrain from calling until you actually know that it doesn 't work. Bottom line is that I no longer like my job, in fact, I hate it. I really hate going there every day, but alas, I have to do it anyway. Isn't that just part of being an adult.

Oh, and for any teens out there who might think that they cannot wait to grow up, please don't rush it. It sucks.

A year ago was an oridinary day...

Until it wasn't.

May 05, 2008. You have read about it before if you have read my blog.

I just want to say - YAY! We made it. He made it. We are doing okay.

My heart hurts.

My heart hurts. I have recently started following Kayleigh's Story. That sweet little one has touched a place so deep inside my soul. I wish that there was something I could do for her and her family. I cannot imagine how her parents feel. I just ache for them.

Please say some extra prayers for the Freemans.