HennHouse

Overheard at the HennHouse

2012-01-30T19:30:00.000-05:00

You know you're married to a LEO when...

Me: "Do you want to go check on the boys?"

Tim: (reluctant) "Sure. Unless you want to."

(It's been a long evening. The boys were both caught with stolen property in their bedrooms--Isaiah with a DVD player and DVDs. Isaac with books. Both are cleaning out their rooms and coming up with plans to deal with the situation.)

Me: "Not really. What do you think they're up to?"

Tim: (as he headed up the stairs) "Minor misdemeanors. M4s maybe."

A visit with Papa

2012-01-27T09:58:00.000-05:00

If you follow my mom's blog (swedishmama.blogspot.com), you know what a roller coaster my dad's health has been lately. After the latest round of infections that landed dad back in the hospital--during which my mom was forced to consider palliative and hospice care--we found ourselves spending as many tender moments at dad's bedside as possible.

He is doing okay these days. Some days are better than others, but each time I talk to him, Dad seems to be in good spirits and wants to know all about the kids. While we try not to overwhelm him with the entire family all at the same time, every couple of days, one of us will sneak up to see him with a couple of the kids for a short visit.

Last Sunday, Dad was doing really well, and so we stayed for a long while. Mom was there, and it was nice to be all together in one place. Reminiscent of the Sunday nights we used to have before Dad got so sick two years ago.

I shared our St. Lucia, Christmas, and New Year's photos with dad.

Yep, that's my boy. Head and shoulders taller than his Grammy.

Mimi took Isaac and Esther-Faith to visit
all of the fish in the nursing home.
Some of the other residents love to see my kids.
The fish, not so much.

Usually when we get there, the kids like to get close for a while.
The kids can no longer climb up into his bed to get hugs. But each
visit before we leave, Dad takes their hands and prays with them.

Progress

2012-01-24T21:06:00.000-05:00

I've mentioned it before, but within a few months, there will be three drivers here at the HennHouse. I believe I will be doing most of the driver's training. For all of the kids. And for good reason. I'm not sure Tim's heart could survive teaching another human being to drive. Literally. He has a penchant for driving perfection, and he tends to write tickets to those who don't live up to his standards. Couple that with it being his son, and well, I think you can imagine what disasters lay ahead for our home.

So, the driver's training falls to me.

My mom likes to say that I get what I deserve. Perhaps this is what I deserve. I was not the best driving student. "High-strung" could be used describe my approach to driving. Nervous. Anxious. Perfectionist. I took the drivers exam three times. I drove my mom's buick up a tree. In the driveway. Driving home from the community theater one night, I was pulled over with my dad in the passenger seat. What did I do? Went the wrong way down a one way street in the dark with my lights off and through a stop sign.

I could write a book about the process of learning to drive.

I did not get my drivers' license until after I graduated high school.

I am a good driver now, but it took a while to teach me.

And that is how it will be with my oldest as well.

We are starting slow. For the last month or so, I've had Isaiah simply start the car. The first time I tossed him the keys, I thought Tim was going to throw up. He might have. I'm not sure. He left the room. For a long, long time.

With driving, comes responsibility and trust. Two things that are in short supply with Isaiah right now. He spent the whole weekend playing a control game with us. Up to his room. Back down. Back up. Back down. He knew what he was supposed to do, he was just exerting his control over the situation. It is truly confounding. Through all of the progress he has made lately, he still struggles mightily sometimes. And with the simplest things.

He knows when he breaks our trust. Most of the time he doesn't want to, he just can't seem to stop himself from needing control in every situation. He almost never takes responsibility for his actions, and rarely if ever apologizes. He just needs to be right. He's learning to control these urgings of his RAD, but it is a long, uphill struggle.

So, this morning after he started my car and I went out with my stuff, I was surprised to find a note on the driver's seat. I knew it was from him. I recognized the handwriting and the messy folds.

And I cried the whole way to work.

It says:

Dear mom,

I know that you love me and want
to see me succeed. I have a lot
to live up to, but I'm trying.
Some day I will be what I dream.
Thank you for teaching me
that no matter what, when you
love something, you don't give
up on it. Have a great day at work.
I love you!
-Isaiah

Overheard at the HennHouse

2012-01-24T05:30:00.000-05:00

After Isaiah's orthodontist appointment yesterday, he and I met Tim and Esther-Faith at Starbucks so that Tim could take Isaiah home while I went back to work. We got some beverages and some seats so that Tim and I could go over Esther-Faith's new IEP. (That is another VERY frustrating story for another time.)

Esther-Faith and Isaiah chose oversized arm chairs while Tim and I sat at a table. Esther-Faith sat sideways with her legs hanging over the arm of the chair.

Tim: "Esther-Faith, sit up please."

Esther-Faith: "I'm just chill-laxin'"

testing... one, two, three

2012-01-23T14:12:00.000-05:00

Tim is in the process of putting together a post about Esther-Faith's birthday. They spent most of the day together--just the two of them. Which is exactly how they wanted it.

And just like he has for the last couple of years,

Tim got Esther-Faith a very special

"first one of the day" birthday present.

A present that he gives to her before anyone else wakes up.

Something special from daddy to daughter.

Before he let her open it, though,

he made her sit through his camera adjustments.

He played with the settings and used his nerdy camera stuff

to get the lighting and settings just right.

And he took a bunch of "test" photos in the process.

Esther-Faith is smart. She understands digital photography.

She understands that test photos get deleted.

She understands that test photos are an opportunity to be a little silly.

Typically, I delete the photos.

Not this time...

International Day of Acceptance

2012-01-20T09:58:00.000-05:00

Today is the International Day of Acceptance (more at dayofacceptance.com). A day dedicated to social acceptance of disability. There are dozens of ways to get involved. (See 3elove.com/pages/join-the-movement for other ways to join the movement.)

Wear your 3ELove gear.
This is what my kids wore to school today.
PROUD!

Sport a temporary tattoo.
Although, the oldest asked this morning if he could get a real one.
So it wouldn't ever come off.
Esther-Faith calls those "forever tattoos."

Change your social media photo.
Get it here: 3elove.com/pages/promote-january-20th

Shop.
Oh yes. We're getting the 3ELove valentines.
$3 for 30 valentines.
And maybe a new shirt. Or jewelry.

Embrace Diversity.
Adversity? Yeah, we've had some of that.
But Diversity? That's all we know.

Educate Community.
Here, Esther-Faith serves as the honorary ball girl at the
Bexley Varsity Girls basketball game.
She has asked 438,121 times to do it again.
And she wouldn't take her shirt off for two days.

Empower Each Other.
Everyone can use a boost once in a while.
What can you do to empower someone today?

Love Life.
This is a dear friend Amanda who is having MAJOR surgery today.
In this photo, she and Esther-Faith had just come down a twisty slide
at the COSBA summer picnic. She is far from her family and friends
having started a new job two months ago. She has never been afraid of
risk or a stiff challenge or the unknown. She is an inspiration.
And of all the people I know, she maybe loves life the most.

We miss you Amanda. And we're praying for you.

Dear dad

2012-01-18T20:03:00.000-05:00

We've had a lot going on. And I promise, there will be blog posts. Birthdays. Birthday parties. Lost teeth. Disappointments. Victories. Basketball games. Neuro-psych exams. Report cards.

In the meantime, I'll leave you with a note that Isaac left on Tim's car a couple of weeks ago.

She really is a princess

2012-01-11T21:38:00.000-05:00

Tim has a difficult time sleeping during the day. Noise from the neighbors. Missing me. The sunlight. I'm not sure what all keeps him up. But the other day he mentioned that he might want to try a sleeping mask. I thought it seemed like a good idea, but I haven't had a chance to go shopping for one yet.

Last night, Esther-Faith opened a pink sleeping mask from her Mimi. As much grief as she gives her Mimi, I think she secretly loves EVERYTHING about my mom. Esther-Faith took to the idea of a sleeping mask like room temperature butter to hot toast.

Tim said, "She really is a princess. I don't think I can wear a sleeping mask now."

She totally owns that sleeping mask.

And just for the record, she fell asleep in less than 90 seconds.

Thanks, mom.

On turning six and a "gymnastic"

2012-01-10T05:10:00.000-05:00

Is it really possible that she's turning six today? That six years have gone by since she joined our family? Not a day has gone by that she hasn't been amazing. And we all agree, she's exactly what we needed.

Today, she's having a fun day with Daddy. Tonight, she requested waffles, chicken, and broccoli for dinner. And of course, there will be gifts.

But yesterday, Tim and the boys hung streamers in the house. She quizzed us about gifts. She had a meltdown when I told her I wanted her to stay young. And she put on a show...

Favorites

2011-12-31T21:04:00.000-05:00

My favorite part of Christmas was when Tim's dad mentioned that I was committing a fashion faux pas for wearing the same shoes two days in a row. Especially because Tim caught him carrying around a spoon in his pocket.

Okay. Not really my favorite moment. But it was funny. I could no sooner choose a favorite moment from the collection of memorable moments than I could choose a favorite pair of shoes. It's impossible. I can't even choose a favorite pair of shoes that I got for Christmas!

It always feels like no matter how adequately we prepare, Christmas comes and goes so fast. It is especially quick when Tim isn't around because of work or the need for sleep. This year, we tried to cram as much into two days as possible. Family to the house. Church. Cookies. Visiting my dad. Visiting Tim's family. And enjoying time together.

It was not easy. But I don't think any of us would change a thing. Except maybe Tim. And all the work he had to do. And all the sleep he didn't get.

Tim loved that he and his boys have matching Voltron t-shirts. (I have no idea what Voltron is, but he was SO EXCITED when I found the shirts.) And he got some nerdy camera accessories that made the rest of Christmas feel like we all had the paparazzi following us around. And in addition to surprising me with shoes from EACH child, he was able to TRULY surprise me with an authentic Liverpool jersey.

I was SO EXCITED.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. (Who wouldn't, though. With a new Liverpool jersey and all.)

We started our celebrations Christmas Eve with my family and a modified Swedish smorgasbord. After a day of food prep and cookie making, we settled to dinner just in time to learn that Tim had to be to work a couple of hours early. We all came to dinner in our Sunday best. He wore his uniform pants and a t-shirt.


Even though they were made with love, some of the Love Cookies were pretty inedible. Half a jar of sprinkles = inedible. :)

Those two are perpetually adorable.

She's been asking for a nutcracker for about a year.
Only Mimi could find a pink one.
She slept with the nutcracker.

Finally, Mimi gets some 3ELove.

Worst part of the night. When he left for work.

My baby sister and her babies.

Mimi's five.

We had a low-key Christmas morning with coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and some pumpkin bread and apple butter we made this fall. Of course, we had to wait until all of the presents were inspected, the teenager had a size 15 temper fit, we opened our stockings, and Tim came home from work.

Esther-Faith and the nutcracker make their
way down the stairs.

OMG! Do you see all those presents?!

Stockings and breakfast.

Then we opened our presents (including an AWESOME Liverpool jersey and a super cool "aha" gift for the teenager--we TOTALLY surprised him. He thought he wasn't getting much because we gave him a couple of books, etc... Then after everything was opened, I pulled the "aha" gift out of the ottoman on which I had been sitting the whole time! Love that we can surprise him.), took a spin on the stationary bike, and took off for a much-too-quick visit to Nana and Poobah's house.


Esther-Faith forces her way into the ping-pong game. Cousin Jim wasn't sure what to make of her. But true to her namesake (Aunt Esther--Jim's mom), she was NOT to be ignored. Aunt Esther (all 4 feet or so of her) used to grab you by the shoulders, pull you down to her level, and have an extensive conversation with you. Esther-Faith does the same.

Showing off her own version of ping-pong.
Kept bouncing it off the wall.
Jim cried foul. The game didn't last long.

Waiting for presents from Nana and Poobah.

Love this. L.O.V.E. it.

Yep. That's a marshmallow shooter.
I made the rule, "If you shoot it, you eat it."
After a hundred or so marshmallows, I changed the rule.

Contemplating what to spend his iTunes gift card on.

Maybe I didn't mention it yet, but Tim was TIRED.

As usual, our time at the original HennHouse was far too short. Although, the food was so good and so plentiful, I'm not sure we ate another full meal for 24 hours or so. Even though is was incredibly rushed, we loved being able to be with most of our family for the holidays.

These years are fleeting. We have only a couple of years before our oldest is an adult. It feels like our first Christmas with them was just yesterday. They stood in front of the fireplace wearing mini tool belts with their arms around one another. They seemed like babies. Sometimes, when I look at them I still see their younger faces. Time seems to move so fast. That first year, we didn't even have Esther-Faith.

And so, I tried to soak in every moment of this holiday season--knowing that time moves forward and each year they will be a little bit older, and so will we. So, I cannot choose a favorite memory of Christmas. No sooner than I can choose a favorite pair of shoes. I am going to adopt my shoe philosophy for my moments. My favorite pair of shoes is the one I'm wearing right now. And so, my favorite moment will be the one I'm in right now.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-12-24T12:07:00.001-05:00

Isaac, Esther-Faith, and I were filling cookies today (the final step in a multi-step, multi-day process) when Esther-Faith said or did something excessively adorable. I don't even remember what it was now...

Esther-Faith does something adorable.

Isaac and I laugh out loud.

Esther-Faith: "I get that reaction a lot."

Love cookies

2011-12-23T23:22:00.001-05:00

We've been in lock-down, high intensity, prep mode for Christmas. In past years, I have had my baking done by now. I started it yesterday. It seems more difficult to get stuff done while my right-hand helper sleeps. Today, he was five hours late coming home from work. FIVE HOURS. When he got home, he spoke a few words in our general direction, and then he crashed. After a few hours of sleep (no mom, he didn't get enough), he got up so we could make some cut-out cookies together.

I made him a pot of coffee.

He drank it all.

And we had some cut-out, love-cookie fun.

Scratch that. I think four of us had fun. The teenager was brooding for much of the evening. (Shocking. I know.)

It became especially fun when Esther-Faith abandoned the idea of making cut-out cookies and instead created an igloo out of discarded dough. She decorated it with a smiley face made out of raisins. When they didn't get enough cut-out cookie fun, Tim and Isaac whipped a triple batch of Love cookie dough. Leaving out the vanilla. (Who needs that anyway?)

By the end of the evening, there was flour and sugar flying just about everywhere. I've filled the dustpan twice.

But I think everyone had fun. Even the brooding teenager. (Although, I'm not sure he would admit it.)

Dads

2011-12-23T22:47:00.000-05:00

As is the case around here, the holiday has brought some uneasiness. There has been some acting out. Some illness. Some frustration. We waited much longer than is our custom to decorate. And the day after we did, the boys both started acting out. It was as if they could hold it together only so long. Compared to past years, it has been mild. We have learned to go with the flow. What might be a crisis in some families is sometimes par for the course at the HennHouse.

Isaiah has redefined "out of control," and has really started to marry the symptoms of RAD with being a typical teenager. Many days his attitude is more than any of us can bear. He'll yell that he can't wait to get "out of here" and then he'll go for a run. He always comes back. He never apologizes. We've learned the routine. And we've adapted.

That night was particularly rough. After many phone calls on his behalf. Much running around. Not enough sleep. And lots of extra work. Some deception. A little manipulation. A big lie. And some hurt feelings. Isaiah declared that his bad mood was because we love Isaac more than him.

Tim laughed out loud. Not intentionally, but as a reflex. Once he realized Isaiah was being serious, she shook his head, left the room, and went to get ready for work. Sometimes not entertaining Isaiah's teenage temper fits works, sometimes not.

I sat in the front room with all of the lights turned off looking at my grandmother's ornaments on our first-ever live Christmas tree, and I immediately wanted to take them all down and put them away. I resisted the urge to undecorate while Tim was at work and the kids were in bed. Instead, I turned to the two pieces of notebook paper Isaiah had given me to look over. They were his essay drafts for a scholarship to the military school he has his heart set on.

These were two NEW essays. He had originally planned on applying for a different scholarship, but after talking to his admissions counselor, she advised that he apply for a different scholarship. (I'll post his other essays another time. They are fantastic.) I leaned back on the couch, and in the light of the tree, read his essays. By the end of the first one, I was in tears.

With his permission, I share it with you...

Before my mom and dad were married, they sat down together and talked about their goals for their lives. Catching my mom off guard, my dad simply replied, "I want to be happy." These simple words still have meaning to both of them all these years later. Because of the simple message, dad is the most influential mentor in my life.

What I love most about my dad is that he never stops. He never gives up. He is a sergeant for the State Highway Patrol in Ohio, and he works the midnight shift. It takes a lot out of him and when he comes home, he sleeps. He does it all for his family. For us, because it makes him happy.

When my dad isn't working or sleeping, he's spending time with us. He wants to spend any spare time with his family. Though my dad my not see past the attitudes and arguments I have with him, I deeply admire what he does for us. He's shown me how to live my life the way God wants me to.

For years after being adopted, I struggled and fought with my dad, thinking I could somehow push him away. Because of the physical and emotional pain I suffered in foster care, I didn't want to let anyone close, but no matter what I did, my dad would always love me. He never gave up on me. He loves everyone in his family with equal devotion. He works, takes us out, and sticks with his family because he wants to be happy. His goal expanded from his life to include ours.

No mountain is too high or valley too low for my dad. He is the best mentor and best dad that I have. I have learned that in order to be happy, you must make others happy, and that's what my dad does best.

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

Listen, my sons, to a father’s instruction;
pay attention and gain understanding.
Proverbs 4:1

Jesse Tree, Day 23

Fourth Monday in Advent

Readings: Matthew 1:18-25; "The Jesse Tree" by Geraldine McCaughrean

"Dear God, we thank you for Joseph
and for all fathers who love and care for their families."
by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Hope

2011-12-09T09:34:00.001-05:00

Some nights are more difficult than others. When I send him away in his uniform, my customary parting words seem small, routine, and insignificant. Like mere words, and not like the almost begging plea and heartfelt love that I want them to be. "Be safe," I always say. And, "I love you."

Yesterday was a particularly deadly day in the law enforcement community. The final numbers are still not in. It has felt like this all year. I remember driving home from my in-laws' house on New Years Day to the news that a police officer and a deputy had been killed just one county over from where we live. On the first day of the year. And it has seemed rare that a day passed when a LEO wasn't assaulted or killed. On duty or off.

And after six incidents yesterday, I went to bed last night completely unable to sleep. I didn't want to bother him, but I sent a text anyway. Just to say, "I love you" again. And, "I miss you." It was hours before he had a chance to text me back. After more than a dozen years of this life, I know I shouldn't worry, but some days (and nights) are more difficult than others.

Tim sees the kids off to school in the mornings. He gets home just as they are all getting out of bed, we team up on a few things, then I leave. This morning, he was a few hours late. The boys were gone before he made it home. It's hard to anticipate what kind of days they will have, but I did my best to reassure them.

After the boys left, and Esther-Faith had asked about 100 times "Where is Daddy?" I asked her what she needed. She said she wanted Daddy to read her a book. So, I suggested that she sit by the window and watch for him. A dangerous suggestion when he's running late, but I thought she would get bored after a while and head back to her toys. She did not. She held a book ("Redheaded Robbie's Christmas Story") in her lap and sat still on the ottoman by the window.

There are few sounds in the world that make my heart sing. My children laughing. My mom reading a story. My dad singing. My mother-in-law laughing. Tim saying my name. The kids calling me "mama." But there is one sound that trumps them all. An ugly, loud sound that signals that he is home, safe, ready to be loved by his family.

Sometimes, when he tears the velcro of his kevlar vest open and he slips the heavy black piece of protection over his head, I don't wait to slip into his arms and wrap my arms around him. That sound, the loud velcro, means that he has made it home safe for one more day. It means he can take his daughter into his arms for a kiss and a squeeze one more time. It means he has parked his car and left the stress of his job to be with us for a while.

It means he is home.

Yesterday, some families did not hear that sound. Children will sit by the window, waiting for something that will not happen. Spouses will never slip into an embrace before a kevlar vest or uniform heavy with the tools of law enforcement have been removed. This scenario has been repeated 154 times this year. 154 times too many.

I am blessed that Tim came home this morning, tore off his vest, snuggled into his chair, and read his daughter a book before he crashed for some sleep. I am proud that he lives and breathes the core values of his agency--including officer safety. I am lucky he is part of an agency that believes in continued training and professionalism.

I am hopeful that what we experienced this morning--the sound of safety, the welcome home, the happy snuggles--will happen hundreds of more times for my family and other law enforcement families all over the country--that days like yesterday will be few and far between.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-12-08T19:59:00.000-05:00

On the phone with Esther-Faith when she got home from school.

Me: "How was school today?"

Esther-Faith: "I guess it was fine. Only a little boring."

Me: "What did you learn today?"

Esther-Faith: "I can't remember."

Me: "Well, did you learn any new letters?"

Esther-Faith: "I think so."

Me: "What letters did you learn?"

Esther-Faith: "O and M and G."

Me: (not catching on right away) "So today you learned OMG?"

Esther-Faith: "Yep. It's what you say when you're happy and you really feel like screaming."

Sometimes

2011-12-07T17:10:00.001-05:00

My phone buzzed next to me--vibrating the whole desk. I was settling after a couple of meetings and getting ready to tackle my to-do list. I looked down at the phone--it was Isaiah's school. I debated not answering it. I thought it might be a mass message about the holiday event this weekend. The phone buzzed again. It was the middle of the day. The school usually didn't send mass messages until the evening.

On the third ring, I answered.

The school medication monitor had Isaiah in the clinic. His tongue was swollen and he was having trouble breathing. I asked to talk to Isaiah. When he got on the phone, I couldn't understand a word he was saying. I asked if he was okay going to the hospital in an ambulance. And I heard him start to panic. Knowing that crying and shortness of breath are a bad thing for a swollen tongue and closing off throat, I implored him to calm down. I asked again if he would go with the EMTs when they got there.

He said no. He wanted to wait for me.

I work 40 minutes away from his school.

So, I told the woman managing the clinic to call the ambulance anyway. That I was on my way and could easily reroute if he needed to go to the ER. Then, I found my boss, explained that I needed to go, threw together my things, and headed toward his school.

On the way, I tried to call Tim. He was asleep. So, I called my mom. She was at the house taking care of Esther-Faith while Tim slept. Crying, I asked her to wake him up and tell him what was going on. He got up, went into the bathroom and started getting ready--expecting to meet us as the hospital.

Once he was awake enough to get the message from my mom that Isaiah didn't want to ride in the ambulance, he called the school to make sure they knew that they had our permission to let the paramedics take him to Children's Hospital if it was necessary.

Tim talked to the paramedics while they were treating Isaiah. I was saying things to my mom. She was relaying them to Tim. And he to her. And back to me.

Thank goodness for my mom. She managed to get me to calm down, relayed messages to Tim, and fed Esther-Faith her lunch all at the same time. I think she even managed to get a message to my dad so he could start to pray for his oldest grandson.

On the way to the school, I stayed on the phone with Tim the entire time. He was privy to my griping about how--two turns from the school--I happened to get behind the slowest driver ever to be granted a driver's license. And just as I was about to turn onto the road the school is on, an ambulance came tearing down the road, turned aggressively onto the road I was on, and tore towards the highway.

I nearly turned my car around to follow it.

The panic bubbled to the surface again as Tim instructed me to drive the final mile to the school. Once I arrived, I noticed that an ambulance still sat in the parking lot with its lights on. So, I found a parking spot and hurried into the school.

Isaiah's version of what happened when I got to the school might be different than mine, but this is my blog. He was disoriented anyway. And I'm telling the story...

Once I made it to the clinic, I noticed three paramedics, Isaiah's ED teacher, the medication monitor, and the vice principal all surrounding my boy as he lay on a bed in the clinic. I did not make eye contact with any of them as I made a beeline towards my boy.

It was all I could do to hold it together.

Isaiah, too.

He would tell me later that he was pretty calm until he saw me. That once he realized that I was there to take care of him, he allowed himself to feel as scared as he was.

I rubbed my hand on his forehead, leaned over and kissed his face, touched his arm, and just took in the sight of him. Then, I turned toward the paramedic who explained that Isaiah was a very healthy teenager. That there didn't seem to be anything wrong with him.

Isaiah's teacher touched my arm and softly said that there was something wrong. I looked back to my boy. His eyelids were droopy. He seemed pale. His whole mouth was swollen and he was having trouble closing it. And I couldn't understand him. The paramedics had me sign their computer so they could get back to work. The vice principal went to his locker to collect his things. Isaiah was released to go, but he was obviously miserable and something was wrong.

Isaiah and I loaded into the car while I called Tim. There was no way I was going to take him home without him seeing a doctor. So, we headed to the closest urgent care. They took him right away because he was having so much trouble breathing.

In the whirlwind of paperwork and questions, Isaiah was diagnosed with a severe allergic reaction. To what, we don't know, but it was bad. He was given a shot in his haunches and instructed to walk around so the medicine could work. I think the shot was as painful as anything else.

After a while, he was given a heavy dose of benedryl. And then he was in "observation." By the time we made it home a couple of hours later, his tongue was about half the size it was when I picked him up from school, his speech was greatly improved, and he reported that the tightness in his throat was much better.

Now, he is relaxing and reading a book. Recovering. Feeling tired from the medication. And grateful to be home. He's going to continue with a couple more doses of medication tonight and tomorrow morning. In the coming weeks, we have to determine what caused the reaction. He hasn't eaten anything unusual--at least he hadn't eaten anything that he hasn't had 100 times before.

I told him to have his "special friend" switch her lip gloss for a while. Just to be sure.

He smiled and stuck his nose back into his book.

Sometimes, the best moments come at the worst times.

After the initial shot in trauma room six, Isaiah was instructed to walk around by the nurse. I could tell that he was in a great deal of pain. I linked my arm into his and walked in circles with him until the stinging subsided. I had lots of opportunities to show him how much I love him. Stroking his hair. Kissing his forehead. Calming him down when he got scared. Hugging him. All the things he doesn't allow much of these days. But he was scared. And I was there.

Sometimes, blessings come in the most interesting packages, and good comes from difficult situations.

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- ----------

"Be strong and take heart, all you who hope in the Lord."Psalm 31:24

Jesse Tree, Day Nine

Second Monday in Advent

Readings: Genesis 37:1-4

"O God, help us to live together in peace. As we look for good in situations that seem hopeless, show us you are working things out for our good. Amen." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Gardens

2011-12-06T19:30:00.000-05:00

The palm house is Esther-Faith's favorite room.
Especially when she has it to herself.

Fairy tales characters carved out of a tree stump.

Sometimes, you just need a break.

He is just so stunningly handsome.

Isaiah's real smile is so beautiful.

Photo notes:
One of the places we like to spend our time while Tim sleeps on the weekend is the Conservatory. (Esther-Faith still calls it the Conservatoria.) It doesn't matter that we've seen it all many times. The Conservatory is such a peaceful place that we keep going back. And it is beautiful.

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I made gardens and parks

and planted all kinds of fruit trees in them.

Ecclesiastes 2:5

Jesse Tree, Day 10
Second Tuesday in Advent
Readings: Genesis 37:1-4; "The Jesse Tree" by Geraldine McCaughrean

"O Lord, we thank you for your commandments, which show us your will and also our need for Jesus Christ as our Savior. May we give him first place in our lives." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Songs

2011-12-04T23:34:00.001-05:00

I was furiously going through the toys pitching anything that was broken and unfixable, organizing the toys in the "keep" pile, and filling a box with things to donate. I woke up in this mood. The "I'm having feelings that I can't express so I'm going to clean and organize everything in my path" mood. I think Isaac locked his door.

Before church, I cleaned, organized, and rearranged Esther-Faith's room. After church and a birthday party, I tackled the front room, dining room, and play room. Tim--tired from the midnight shift and not enough sleep--managed to convince me not to move the desk. The desk is HUGE. It holds just about every gadget and electronic we own. In addition to being the not-so-organized catch-all for mail, report cards, and miscellaneous craft projects. I even think our taxes are stored in one of the drawers.

In short, moving the desk is a day-long project. Not an hour-long project. It wasn't going to fit into my plans for this evening. Really, my plans were not to rearrange, they were to forget about tomorrow.

In the morning, Esther-Faith's favorite person arrives in the wee hours to hold down the fort while Tim and I take our baby girl to the hospital for a sedated MRI of her spine. I've been on the phone with the folks in MRI three times in as many days. It may be routine for them, but it isn't for us.

In the midst of my cleaning spree, Esther-Faith grabbed Tim's acoustic guitar and started strumming. She sang "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" and "Jingle Bells." Then, she started making up songs about each member of her family.

"Isaac is stinky. Isaac is stinky. Isaac is stinky. Isaac is ssstttinkkkyyyyy."

"Isaiah is weird. Isaiah is weird. Isaiah is weird. Isaiah is weeeeiiirrrrddd."

"Daddy is cute. Daddy is cute. Daddy is cute. Daddy is cuuuutttteeee."

And then she got to me. I wanted to hear her song. I really did. But after stinky, weird, and cute, I wasn't sure I wanted to know what she had to say about me.

"How about this?" she asked. "Mom is..." she paused. "Love."

Love.

I won't lie, as I cheered her on, hot tears stung the back of my eyelids. It was like she knew I needed some reassurance about tomorrow. Oh, she's had her share of tears. Like when we told her she couldn't have her daily bowl of rice krispies. Or that Kate was going to stay at our house while we went to the hospital. Or when we explained the whole procedure to her. There have been plenty of tears the last couple of days. But in the end, it seemed that she knew it was all going to be okay. And she let us know that, too.

It is going to be okay. This is just a sedated MRI. And last Friday was just wheelchair clinic. The people on Esther-Faith's care team are amazing. With many of them, they make us feel like Esther-Faith is their only patient. That her progression and growth is of equal importance to them as it is to us. Picking casters for her wheelchair that will be best for ballet. And wheels in the back that would work for racing. Letting her choose the color herself. Understanding when she was tired of it all.

It will be the same tomorrow, I'm sure. People who care about Esther-Faith running tests to find the cause of her pain. Helping us help her. Loving her.

Esther-Faith understands--in her own way--that this is her life. And believe me, she makes the most of it. Choosing to love instead of worry about what people think. Choosing to cry when it hurts or she is scared. Choosing to sing. About anything. With or without a tune.

Faith

2011-12-01T17:34:00.000-05:00

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"Faith is confidence in what we hope for
and assurance about what we do not see."
Hebrews 11:1

Jesse Tree, Day Four

First Thursday in Advent

Readings: Genesis 12:1-7; Hebrews 11:1, 8
Gift: .

"O Lord God, help us to put our trust in you. May we go out in faith each day to serve you wherever we are called. Amen." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Chances

2011-11-30T22:03:00.001-05:00

I think my mom has given up on me. In one way. Maybe in more than one, but definitely in one way. Growing up, I was one of those kids whose mom made her clothes. Velvet dresses at Christmas. Cotton jumpers for school. Fancy dresses at Easter. Almost always matching my sister, and sometimes matching my brother.

I remember one outfit in particular. I wore it at least once a week in elementary school. I liked it for two reasons: it was comfortable, and it wasn't my brother's hand-me-downs. And every time I wore it, the other kids always said they liked it. I think I wore it out.

Like many of the talents and gifts my mom has, I've picked up some of my mom's love for sewing. But it has been a late development--and really, I just enjoy making flat things. Like quilts, blankets, and other things that only require sewing in a straight line. When I was younger, I told my mom I was never going to learn to sew. That never sat right with her. For two decades she has been after me to learn to make an apron. She claims it is an easy first sewing project.

An early memory I have of this "you will learn to make an apron before I die" argument, I recall telling my mom that I didn't need an apron because I wasn't going to learn to cook.

We know how that turned out.

And over the years, I'm learning that in most instances my mom is right. Including this one. As I cooked Thanksgiving dinner in my great grandmothers apron, a tiny tear started across the front. It didn't catch on anything, the apron is just threadbare. And now, torn.

I hope I haven't wasted all of my chances, because I'm about to ask my mom to give me another one. I'm going to see if she's got any apron patterns, holiday fabric, and maybe a little patience tucked away for her oldest daughter. I need an apron.

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Jesse Tree, Day Four

First Wednesday in Advent

Readings: Genesis 6:11-22; 9:8-13
Gift: Glitter lip balm.

"Dear God, do not give up on us even when we forget you. Thank you for loving us enough to give us a new start every day. Amen." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-11-30T21:16:00.001-05:00

I was sitting on the playroom floor working on Christmas cards while Esther-Faith played with Isaac's cars behind me. I was wearing my exercise clothes. She was wearing a dress. Our backs were to each other.

Esther-Faith: (lifting up the back of my shirt) "Mama, where is your myelomeningocele?"

Me: "I don't have one."

(silence)

Esther-Faith: "Why not?"

Me: "Because I wasn't born with one."

Esther-Faith: "Was Daddy?"

Me: "Nope."

Esther-Faith: "Does Isaac have one?"

Me: "He doesn't either. You're the only one in our family with a myelomeningocele."

Esther-Faith: "Because of my spina bifida."

Me: "Yes. You are very special."

Esther-Faith: "I know."

(And with that she decorated by back with stencils and (I didn't know it at the time) permanent marker. She said my back was boring. Then she crawled away. I thought we were done with the conversation. But hours later as she and Tim were reading devotions before bed...)

Esther-Faith: "Daddy?"

Tim: "Yes, Scutterbotch?"

Esther-Faith: "Will I grow out of my spina bifida?"

(silence... long, heavy silence)

Tim: "No, Honey. It's part of who you are. You are perfect just like you are. And you are awesome."

Esther-Faith: "I know, Daddy. But I still want to grow out of it."

And Tim said his heart broke. A thousand times over.

Faithful

2011-11-29T23:59:00.001-05:00

Jesse Tree, Day Three

First Tuesday in Advent

Readings: Genesis 3:1-7, Psalm 146, and "The Jesse Tree" by Geraldine McCaughrean Chapter 3

Gift: Journals.

He is the Maker of heaven and earth,

the sea, and everything in them—

he remains faithful forever.

Psalm 146:6

"Thank you, God, for loving us so much that you sent Jesus to save us from our sins. Keep us strong when we are tempted to do wrong. Amen." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Earth

2011-11-28T21:29:00.001-05:00

My favorite room in the house is the pantry. Sometimes, I walk into the pantry and just stand there. A couple of months ago, Isaiah expressed interest in going on his eighth grade field trip to Washington, D.C. with his class. He knew it would require huge amounts of trust on our part, and that he would need to work hard to earn that trust. He came to me one Saturday morning and said, "I know the trip is expensive, and I know you don't like us peddling cheap wrapping paper and processed cookie dough around the neighborhood. But I would like to earn my trip to Washington, D.C."

He's good. Really good.

But I knew he was earnest, and I was impressed with his desire to earn the trip. So, we devised a plan. For each payment due (there are five payments in excess of $100 each), we would do a household project together. We would plan it out and execute it together.

A couple of weeks ago, that project was the pantry. We completely emptied the pantry, scrubbed every surface, purged, reorganized, and reloaded the pantry. Isaiah carried hundreds of home canned goods up from their precarious and unorganized places in the basement. He cataloged and inventoried every food item we have in the pantry, the freezer, and the basement. He hung the door (we had been operating without the door for a while). He re-organized the dry goods shelves in the basement, and we even had space left over to store the empty canning jars!

The process took hours. Nearly an entire day. I told him that he more than earned that payment for his trip. That I was willing to have that project count for two payments. He admitted that he had as much fun hanging out and helping as he thought it was work. And he really enjoyed seeing the fruits of labor.

At one point, after the work was done, and we were putting the finishing touches on the room, we took a step back and admired all of the jars of home canned food. At the time, it seemed like work to tend the garden, pick the produce, chop and prepare the veggies, stand over the hot stove in the dead of summer, and pay attention to all of the little details. But when we took a step back and realized just what we had accomplished, it was remarkable.

I leaned my head onto his shoulder. It was one of those rare occasions that I wasn't wearing heels around him, and he was slightly taller than me. He put his arm around my shoulder and said, "I'm proud of us--look at what we did with all that we grew."

And I know he's proud to be the kid with homemade relish on his sandwiches at lunch. He's proud to be the kid who brings homemade snacks. He's proud of the way he has learned to eat, and he loves that he gets to eat some food that isn't even sold in the grocery store. I know he has bartered away his turkey on wheat with green tomato relish more than once.

I looked up at him and told him that I was proud of him, too. Without his help, I couldn't have canned all that I did. I estimate he cut a couple of hundred hot peppers. He picked, hauled, and cored more than a 100 pounds of apples. He weeded, hoed, and raked. He mowed the grass. He turned the compost. And he takes the water catch basins to the garden or the compost every time they are full. In that moment, I told him how proud I was that he is my son. That he is willing to work for the things that he likes. He said, "It doesn't feel like work. It's really just life."

Just life.

That boy of mine can bring me to tears. I know what a bore gardening chores can be--I had to do them growing up, too. And I'm sure I didn't like to do them when I was 15. In fact, when I left home for college, I think I told my mom that I was never going to do anything "country" again. But Isaiah doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he reminded me today that we don't have our garlic in the ground yet. Or our tulips. And that we have to winterize the other gardens.

And even though he has four years of high school left, he is already worried about what he's going to eat at boot camp. He's making plans to live at home to go to college so he can still eat here. And he's been hanging out in the kitchen a lot lately. Tonight, he asked if he could make risotto. One he's never tried.

And now, more than a month later, the pantry is still my favorite room. Because I had such an awesome time making it over with my son, and because by stepping into it, I can see the fruits of our labor. That we made the absolute best of the little plot of land we live on. And I know that the food on those shelves will feed my family for months to come.

Jalapeno salsa coming out of the canner.

Picking tomatoes.

Cutting peppers.

Cooking down the apples for apple butter.

Two of the shelves in the pantry.

These two shelves have applesauce, apple butter, apple pie filling,
peach jam, sweet relish, green tomato relish, dill pickles,
barbeque sauce, hot peppers, two kinds of salsa, and mint jam.

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Jesse Tree, Day Two

First Monday in Advent

Readings: Genesis 1:26-31 and "The Jesse Tree" by Geraldine McCaughrean Chapter 2

Gift: Squeezy stress balls in everyone's favorite color.

Then God said,
“I give you every seed-bearing plant
on the face of the whole earth
and every tree that has fruit with seed in it.
They will be yours for food."
Genesis 1:29

"Dear God, thank you for creating such a beautiful world and for all that is in it. Guide us as we do our part to care for your world and all your creatures. Amen." by Marilyn Breckenridge

Growth

2011-11-27T20:50:00.001-05:00

Growing is painful. From infancy to the maturing of becoming an adult, there are lots of moments of growth that are exciting and joyful, and as many that are painful. We seem to be experts at the painful around here. From growing pains that wake us during the night to learning what a friend really looks like.

I have always liked the analogy of growth in weight training. I don't know if it is true or not, but I've heard that in order for a muscle to get stronger, it must tear and heal. And that is often painful. (From personal experience, if the first week of boot camp is any indication, I should be totally buff in no time.) And in order for a seed to grow, it must first be put into the ground to die.

And so, we experience growing pains, both the physical and the emotional kind. Learning about ourselves and our family. And as we prepare our hearts and home to grow our family in the coming years, we also prepare for the growing pains that come along with it. And we prepare our vehicles for a new driver. And we prepare our daughter for a new wheelchair. And we prepare ourselves for a new year. But first, we prepare our hearts for the Advent season and all that it means.

And we are practicing the tradition of the Jesse Tree again this year. And even though we've used these same books for years now, the lessons feel new and we continue to learn. Today, about growth. We read about the shoot of the tree of Jesse, planted forget-me-nots, and made movies about playing soccer and baseball, and celebrating personal growth. We're hoping to enclose some of these home movies in our Christmas cards. Be sure to send me your address if you want one.

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Jesse Tree, Day One

First Sunday of Advent

A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse;
from his roots a Branch will bear fruit.
The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him—
the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding,
the Spirit of counsel and of might,
the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD—
and he will delight in the fear of the LORD. Isaiah 11:1-3a

"Thank you, God, for our family. Help us as a family this Advent season to prepare to celebrate Jesus' birthday at Christmas. As we think about his family tree, may we grow to love him more and to love our own family more. Amen." by Marilyn S. Breckenridge

Holiday cheer

2011-11-19T20:23:00.001-05:00

It is 8:25 p.m.

Everyone at the HennHouse is ill with upper-respiratory and sinus junk. We're all sniffling, sneezing, coughing, and generally feeling not very good. In fact, last night, three of us were up at (literally) all hours trying to stop coughing, sneezing, sniffling, and generally not feeling good. Which made for a rough morning. And a rough afternoon. And a trip to the grocery for more vapo-rub. And another trip to the store for some multi-age decongestant.

But, about a half an hour ago, Esther-Faith came into the front room where Isaiah, Tim, and I were watching a prerecorded Arsenal vs. Norwich soccer match--crawling because she is boycotting the wheelchair and all orthotics again--to ask if we could string popcorn for the birds.

She is her mama's daughter.

This has been a difficult holiday season. There are no trees up yet. (Which is unusual.) Nary a decoration decking the halls. (Really unusual.) I did happen to sneak a snowman soap dispenser into the half bath, and a basket of glittery ornaments into the front room. But, in an effort to help Isaiah stay on his positive trajectory, we have made some difficult decisions. To wait until much later to decorate. To change some traditions and create new ones.

But I'm sneaking a few things up from freshly cleaned basement.

And Esther-Faith is finding her own way of sneaking in some early holiday cheer.

Like popcorn strings for the birds.

So, we put on some holiday music, popped some corn, and pricked ourselves with needles until we filled some string with enough popcorn for the birds that frequent our now-bare apple tree in the front yard.

It was an incredibly normal thing to do as our family faces some extraordinary changes in the coming months and years. As we contemplate adding more siblings. As Isaiah pursues his dream of military school. As both boys continue to develop into elite athletes.

And for the first time in three days, as I sat on my pretzel between my sons, I did not feel the splitting of my headache. I felt no pressure in my skull and no stress in my neck and shoulders. I looked across the giant bowl of popcorn at the love of my life struggling to fit the tiny kernels of popcorn onto the string without crushing each one, knowing that he took a much-coveted vacation day to stay home and take care of his ailing family, and aware that he is also exhausted.

So, we strung popcorn. Tim ate a piece for each that he put on the pink string. Esther-Faith threw popcorn into the air by the handful making "snow." Isaac kept jumping up, running to the stereo, and skipping the songs he didn't like. Isaiah just marveled that he was able to string popcorn at all. And now, we're all heading to bed early to see if extra sleep--in addition to all of the hot beverages we've been drinking and cold medication we been taking--will make us feel better.

And we're anxious to see if the birds discover our popcorn gifts while we're sleeping.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-11-13T20:27:00.001-05:00

While watching "Polar Express" this evening, Esther-Faith was musing about how much he adores the elf outfits as she alternately sat thisclose to the television and danced and spun in her wheelchair.

Isaac: "Are you going to be an elf for halloween next year?"

Esther-Faith: "Nope. I'm going to be the Statue of Liberty."

Mama's boy

2011-11-08T00:30:00.000-05:00

So, Isaac has been hanging out in the kitchen with me more and more these days. Sure, he still loves to do all things boy-ish, but now that it is getting cooler and darker in the evenings, he wants to hang out in the kitchen.

I don't complain. It's fun to have him there, and I know that in a pinch, he could whip up a nutritious, balanced meal if he had to.

Tonight as I was trying to teach him to tend a risotto, he decided to make dessert. Pudding, layered with apple pie filling, and whipped cream (that he also made!). He made Esther-Faith her own because she doesn't eat the apple pie filling (allergies and all).

(BTW- So far, none of the apple pie filling I canned has been used in an actual apple pie!)

Growing

2011-11-02T20:49:00.001-05:00

Instead, we will speak the truth in love,

growing in every way more and more like Christ,

who is the head of his body, the church.

He makes the whole body fit together perfectly.

As each part does its own special work,

it helps the other parts grow,

so that the whole body is healthy

and growing and full of love.

Ephesians 4:15-16

Photo notes:

It's that time of year: School pictures.

I admit, I buy them just for the comedy and mystery

of what the kids are going to look like.

For example, Isaac has had that same expression

on his face for the last five years of school pictures.

And they must have had a difficult time with Esther-Faith,

because they sent a CD home with nine images on it.

And is it me, or does it look like Isaiah needs to shave?

My favorite part of a "holiday" that I don't like

2011-11-01T00:15:00.000-05:00

The Karate Kid, Rocky, a butterfly, a snow princess,
and a moody teenager doing his homework on the stoop.

Something melodramatic by Trans-Siberian Orchestra filtered through the speakers as Esther-Faith crawled to the playroom. She hadn't finished her white hot chocolate. She didn't even eat any of the candy she collected from the neighbors. Tim watched as she gingerly crawled to the middle of the floor, put her feet underneath of her body, and slowly stood up. It took many tries. But without the assistance of any of her equipment, she stood up.

And then, she just stood there, watching her reflection in the sliding glass door. Her cousins and brothers ran around her playing, laughing, and enjoying the chaos of the night. But she just stood. Occasionally she lost her balance. She would teeter forward or back. Sometimes falling all the way to the ground with a thud. But she always got herself back up to standing.

And then, ever so slowly, she moved her arms to first position. Holding them still in front of her body, she waited for her balance to catch up. Then, gracefully, she stretched her arms out to second position. Tim stood next to me in the dining area. Two of the three boys had heaped more sweet and sour noodles into their bowls. Auri was taking more sips of her hot chocolate.

Watching her own movement in the reflection of the glass, she slowly and gracefully set her arms into third position. Then fourth. And finally, fifth. Just before losing her balance and crashing to the floor again.

Unaware that we were watching, in an awkward gentle motion, she put her feet back under her body. Willing her orthotics to do what she wanted them to do. She slowly and comically got to standing again.

Already brimming with emotion of tough choices and hard decisions, I grabbed my sister's arm and started to cry. Tim grabbed the camera and moved into the play room determined to capture her remarkable tenacity on film.

She moved slowly but fluidly through the arm positions of the five basic ballet positions again and again. Tim knelt in front of her encouraging her when she fell or helping her focus when her balance threatened to interrupt her practice.

Esther-Faith will start real ballet in January. Actually, all three will start ballet in January. I've been searching for a few months for an dance studio that will teach my daughter ballet without putting her into a "pity" class or just appeasing my request in the name of compliance. I want her to learn how to dance. For real. Because SHE wants to learn how to dance. For real.

So, I contacted a few dance studios. Dozens maybe. I heard "no" a lot. I heard "we've got a wheelchair class" a lot. I heard "have you tried such-and-such" a lot. And I got tired of explaining that I wanted her in a class with other children learning ballet. That I wanted her to work. That SHE wanted to work. That she loves to dance, and I want to give her the opportunity to learn to dance.

Eventually, I found a well-established studio with an adaptive specialist who would be available to help Esther-Faith learn to the best of her ability. They never offered a different class. They didn't tell me "no." And most importantly, they understood that Esther-Faith wants to be a ballerina, but that it might just look a little different.

They are excited to have her. She is excited to go.

When we talked about Esther-Faith taking "real" ballet classes, Isaac decided that he would also like to take ballet in addition to more tap. And then Isaiah, the teenager, said he wanted to take ballet, too. So in January, all three of my children will begin ballet. At three different stages in their lives, and for three different reasons.

But really, Esther-Faith's education has already commenced. She has started memorizing the vocabulary. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Pas de chat. She often convinces her dad to lift her into the air. She gets books about ballet from the library.

And she practices.

It is more difficult for her. More strenuous. More work. But I think, also more beautiful. Because I know what it takes for her to even stand at all, let alone stand in position. I know what it takes for her to move her body a certain way, let alone do it gracefully. I know what work it is for her to just try.

Eventually, I moved to the play room, too. And so did Auri. The girls moved through the positions together. Auri grabbing Esther-Faith's hand at one point to keep her from falling. Convincing Daddy/Uncle Tim to set down the camera and lift them both into the air.

As they danced, I moved slightly away. The music was loud. They were moving their bodies. Dancing. Playing. Enjoying the evening and each other. And she did it again. After months of not, she took three tiny steps into my arms.

Those positions. Those smiles. Those steps. They make my heart so happy. So full of joy. So full of hope. She may never play Clara or Cinderella or Odette. But she will dance.

And it will be amazing.

Fifteen

2011-10-27T05:36:00.000-05:00

We have a running joke. Although, it isn't really a joke to me. I've laughed when I've said it, but I was very serious...

About three months ago, I realized that it was only a matter of time until my oldest child would be taller than me. He took every opportunity to stand next to me. Measuring his height to mine while my back was turned. Once I realized what was going on, I looked him square in the eye and told him that under no circumstance would he be taller than me until he was at least 15 years old.

As the days wore on and he seemed to gain inches overnight, I realized that I could no sooner hold him to that than I could turn back time and hold him in my lap again. Although, I would give lots of green money to turn back time.

So, I did the only thing a girl in my situation could do: I bought higher heels.

Now, if you know me, you know how much I really, really like shoes. All kinds of shoes (except maybe ugg boots--really those are just slippers with a sole), but especially pumps. Four inches is my height. Sure, I can wear higher heels, and I have a couple of pair that are shorter than four inches. But really, four is my comfort. In fact, when Tim asks just how many pair of shoes I own, I tease him that I don't count them unless they are taller than three inches.

As Isaiah kept growing at a rapid pace, I started to wear heels ALL THE TIME. To baseball games. To soccer games. To work. To cook dinner. To sleep. There was NO WAY I was letting Isaiah get taller than me one minute before he turned 15--at least if I could artificially prevent it.

So, prevent it I did.

But today Isaiah turns 15. And in his honor, I wear flats.

Fifteen.

Tonight, we will visit the armed services recruiting office to ask about JROTC, ROTC, and the Marines.

In four months, he will run track.

In six months, I will teach him to drive.

In 10 months, he will be in high school.

In three years, he will go to prom.

In four years, he will graduate high school.

In six years he will be age I was when I married his dad.

Perhaps his growing of inches is nearly over, but I have a feeling that his growing of character is just beginning. It was extremely exciting to watch him age when he was younger child, but these years are fascinating. Watching him become who he will be forever. Watching him develop into a man.

I am in awe. Stunned that I get to be part of this amazing child's life. Blessed that I get to be his mom. Even if now, I have to look up at him.

Happy Birthday, Baby Boy.

You know I love you.

Reading

2011-10-26T19:11:00.002-05:00

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young,

but set an example for the believers in speech,

in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity.

Until I come, devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture,

to preaching and to teaching.

1 Timothy 4:12-13

Photo notes:

My small group leader brought over some books for the kids. Esther-Faith LOVES the new books. She takes them in the car wherever we go. To soccer games. To the grocery. To bed. She has an uncanny ability to convince anyone to read them to her. Here, she snuggles up to Jackson (her cousin) while he reads to her.

I wish I knew...

2011-10-25T19:04:00.000-05:00

I wish I knew...

That the journey may feel lonely, but only when I don't look around and see the awesome people on the path with me.

That there would be frightening moments, but that those moments are a mere fraction of the life with Esther-Faith.

That she would be so wonderful. And that being her mom would be the greatest gift.

That she would provide the healing that Isaiah's heart needs.

That loving her would change everything.

That even though caring for her can be difficult, loving her is the easiest thing.

That she would be Isaac's best friend. And he would be her's.

That Spina Bifida does not define her. She is SO MUCH MORE.

I wish someone would have congratulated me. Instead of dwelling on the shock of the diagnosis, I wish someone would have pulled me aside and said, "Congratulations. You're having a baby. And it is going to be awesome."

Tournaments

2011-10-23T09:50:00.000-05:00

It is fall soccer tournament weekend.

We've won two games and lost one.

That puts us in the finals.

(I say us, but really, it is Tim and the boys. Esther-Faith and I are just spectators. Albeit, emotionally involved spectators. Scratch that. I'm emotionally involved. She's tired of soccer.)

The final game is today.

We're all a touch nervous.

Soccer (again)

2011-10-19T06:38:00.000-05:00

Isaiah gets loose with the ball.
Not many can keep up with him after that.

Isaac really came into his own in this game.
He made play after play after play.

And he really seemed to grasp ball control.

He's becoming like his brother.
Only he has to work a little harder.
Because he's the smallest kid on the field.

In this (very windy) game, Isaiah took two beautiful corner kicks.
I was SURE one of them was headed straight for the top corner of the goal.
But is sailed just wide.

Another break away. After a while, Isaiah was able to pull all
of the defenders to him, and then tap the ball to a teammate.
For a score.

Looking down field for a pass.

Settling the ball.

Another breakaway. Just Isaiah and the goalie. He's had lots
of these opportunities, he just needs to work on his finish.

Love my baby boy.

Going to the ball.

Take delight in the LORD,

and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-10-10T17:52:00.000-05:00

Every day we try to get Esther-Faith to tell us what she learned at school. Her answer always has something to do with recess or pretending to do ballet with her new friend. But what she really learns comes out eventually, and at the least expected time.

While we were prepping for her nighttime routine...

Esther-Faith: "You know that Thursday starts with the TH sound? Dontcha?"

Me: "Yeah. It does! What other words start with TH?

Esther-Faith: "Well, thesaurus does."

Me: (stunned) "Yeah. It does. Do you know what a thesaurus is?"

Esther-Faith: "Sure I do! It's a baby dinosaur that is orange with blue stripes."

Me: "It is?"

Esther-Faith: "Yeah. And its mama helps it get around because it was born with Spina Bifida and it doesn't fly like the other pterodactyls."

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-10-07T14:26:00.000-05:00

After some errand running and lunch, Esther-Faith and Auri were doing crafts while I prepped the kitchen to can another batch of applesauce. They created snoopy headbands, made mini playdoh pumpkins, and painted scarecrows. While painting the scarecrows, I implored the girls to use just the right amount of paint (instead of loading up the brush and having it drip and run all over the place--especially onto their clothes and hands).

Me: "Not so much paint, Auri. Use just the right amount."

Auri: (dipping the brush all-the-way into the paint, getting too much) "Alright, Kiki."

Me: "Is that too much or just enough? Remember, sometimes less is more."

Auri: (stopping what she is doing and staring at me quizzically) "That's doesn't make any sense, Kiki. Less isn't more. Less is just less."

Apples

2011-10-04T22:31:00.000-05:00

Collecting the Jonathan apples.

Apple picking.
I believe these were the Jonagold apples.

Running the apples through the food mill.
For some reason, this seems like magic to the kids.
I just think it is tedious and can't go quick enough.

She did as much as she could.
As much as we would let her.
But I think she thought it was tedious, too.

After I was done with the apple butter,
Tim volunteered to "clean out" the pan.

I call on you, my God,

for you will answer me;

turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.

Show me the wonders of your great love,

you who save by your right hand

those who take refuge in you from their foes.

Keep me as the apple of your eye;

hide me in the shadow of your wings.

Psalm 17:6-9

Photo notes:

After our apple-picking excursion, we had roughly 200 pounds of apples.

200 pounds is too many to eat (although, we're giving our best effort).

Instead, we've canned one batch of sugar-free applesauce, one batch of spiced applesauce, and one batch of apple butter. We're hoping to make some more applesauce, another batch of apple butter, and some apple pie filling. No one is interested in jelly. Everyone just wants more butter. And as you can see, everyone wants to help.

Soccer

2011-10-03T20:09:00.000-05:00

Even though they're not necessarily having a "winning" season, I love watching the boys play soccer nonetheless. Isaiah is really just so much fun to watch. Quick. Passionate. Emotional. Beautiful.

Isaac is really developing his skills in a league that is much older than him. He is most often the youngest child on the field. As I watch his skill set grow, I know we made the right decision to "play him up" an age group.

Where Isaiah is fast, Isaac is careful. Where Isaiah is passionate, Isaac is cautious. Where Isaiah is emotional, Isaac is steady. Where Isaiah is beautiful, Isaac is hardworking. I have said it before, they are both pretty good soccer players, but very, very different.

I have especially enjoyed watching them play together. Working as a team. Helping each other. Now, if I could just get them to translate that to cleaning the bathroom or setting the table...

At least I know the coach.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-09-28T17:40:00.000-05:00

Isaiah's free time has been consumed with writing his essays for his military school application (which is another story for another time), and we've all been trying to "help" him. One of the essay questions asks him to think of three words about himself (if he allows me, I'll post his essay answers here). So, at dinner tonight, we went around the table (not really around, it was more random than that) and we stated the three words we thought about each other.

Not surprisingly, Esther-Faith has the most entertaining answers. I think it is because she doesn't really understand adjectives. Or maybe we encouraged her with our laughter...

Me: "Esther-Faith, look at Isaac. What three words can you use to describe him?"

Esther-Faith: "Well, he's gorgeous."

Me: "He is? What else?"

Esther-Faith: "Ummmm. He's dinner."

Me: (silence)

Esther-Faith: "And he's refreshing when he puts on his deodorant."

(Imagine the four of us suppressing our laughter. Most unsuccessfully.)

Me: "So, look at Isaiah. What three words can you use to describe him?"

Esther-Faith: "Well... He's not as smart as me. And he's not very helpful. And he's butt-naked under his clothes."

(And dinner came out of our noses.)

Racing wheelchair, clinical trial, no detethering required, and other clinic news

2011-09-26T21:36:00.000-05:00

Our check-in time for clinic was 8 a.m.

Mimi came over to see the boys off to school so we could head to the hospital early.

Earlier in the week, our appointments were confirmed. We would see the social worker, urology nurse, neurology nurse, occupational therapy, physiatrist, and some others. We also found out that her renal ultrasound (we have one almost every clinic appointment) was scheduled for 3 p.m. From the outset, it looked like it was going to be a long day.

Once we got to the hospital, got checked in, and started the process of answering what feels like 1000 questions about the last six months of Esther-Faith's life, we got word that there was a cancellation in ultrasound and Esther-Faith was going to have her renal ultrasound at 9 a.m. instead of 3 p.m.

Sigh of relief.

BIG.

So, 30 minutes from her appointment, we pushed fluids. She needed a full bladder to get good scans.

Some folks who we were not scheduled to see stopped in for social visits or just to catch up. One of those people was Brett--the wheelchair tech. Not only is he AWESOME at his job, he is also just a great guy. We shared books we've been reading. Our goals for Esther-Faith. She shared how much faster she wants to go. So, Brett went to his car and got an ultra-light, multi-purpose (can be used for every day or racing) PINK wheelchair for Esther-Faith to try. It did not have a seatbelt or tippers.

She loved it. L.O.V.E.D it.

Here she shows off her wheelie skills for Brett.

While Brett retrieved the fancy, new wheelchair, Esther-Faith and I headed to ultrasound.

The ultrasound tech was SUPER, VERYMUCH, ULTRA thorough. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate thorough. But seriously, they're not allowed to tell us anything, Tim was waiting back in the clinic room, and the minutes were dragging into an hour. Picture after picture after picture. Not by me, after the first couple of minutes, I forgot I had the camera. I just stared at the black and white screen-- not completely ignorant of what I was looking at, but still more confused than sure. I asked annoying questions. (I know, because she kind of rolled her eyes at me.) After a (really) long time, she gave me a catheter to empty Esther-Faith's bladder so she could get post-void pictures. Some more time (and lots more pictures) later, we packed up and headed back to Tim.

You'll never guess who was waiting when we got back... NICK!

Nick (who makes her orthotics) is Esther-Faith's favorite person at clinic. She thinks he makes a great dance partner. And in the morning when we were getting ready to go, she said she wanted to see Nick "first and last." In other words, she wasn't willing to fit anyone else into her busy clinic schedule.

After Nick, we met with the OT, the developmental pediatrician, the neuro-psych doctor, the pediatric resident, the urology nurse, the physiatrist (and her crew), and the neurology nurse. She hid from more than a few of the doctors.

I think one of the reasons Esther-Faith has never met a stranger (and why we're having such a difficult time teaching her stranger-danger) is because of appointments like this. Where there are lots of the same doctors she sees from clinic appointment to clinic appointment, but even MORE that she'll see once in her life, but that we ask her to allow to touch her feet and legs, check her shunt, ask her personal questions, and force her to be polite and accommodating.

I get it, they're learning to be the doctors of tomorrow, but for today, it seems so contradictory to tell her to be wary of strangers--oh but wait, not these ones. Or those ones over there. So, I'm left with questions about how to teach her stranger-danger while learning to trust the right people.

Some good news... and some great news.

The good news first: Esther-Faith will be participating in a clinical trial that will--over the course of a year--test for markers in urine that indicate a serious infection. She will also be testing a new, single-use (but more expensive) hydrophilic catheter for the duration of the year to determine if the incidence of UTIs goes down. Her catheters will be supplied (yay) and she'll have her urine tested periodically. We're all about finding new products that will help other SB patients!

The GREAT news: After talking to the neurology nurse about her symptoms, undergoing some simple tests, and understanding better what we're dealing with, the neurology nurse said that Esther-Faith is NOT experiencing increased tethering of her spinal cord! All SB patients have some tethering (it's the nature of the beast), and some will require de-tethering surgery and some will not. Currently, we are in the WILL NOT category! (Can I get a whoop-whoop?!)

Things can change fast or slow, and we're still learning, but even though it was one of the longest clinic appointments yet, we walked away with eight prescriptions, an appointment for followup testing with neuro-psych, an appointment for wheelchair clinic, and a script for an eight-week OT session, but feeling positive and reassured! (If not a little apprehensive about a racing wheelchair!)

After a quick lunch out, we took Esther-Faith to her favorite destination (Build-a-Bear) for a new friend: SNOOPY.

Preview

2011-09-25T14:37:00.001-05:00

We're in the process of turning more than 200 pounds of apples into applesauce, apple pie, apple jelly, and pretty much anything else that has apples in it.

Tim thinks the boys are totally going to remind me in my old age that I made them go apple picking in ties. Although, I'm pretty sure they didn't mind. And, I think they look adorable.

Clinic Day

2011-09-23T07:19:00.002-05:00

Clinic Day.

First appointment at 8 a.m.
Last appointment at 3 p.m.

We have the makings of a long day.

But Esther-Faith is spunky. And she really, really wants to see Nick.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-09-20T17:03:00.000-05:00

Today I had to take the boys to the doctor for their annual "well child" check ups. It is interesting taking two boys--one teenager, one preteen--to the doctor. Where everything body-related is funny. Inducing girl-giggles all around.

It is also interesting to go with a teenager. We are in those years when not all things should be discussed or examined in front of his mother. I was kicked out of the room.

Dr. Sarah: "Alright Isaiah, it's time."

Isaiah: "For what? Oh, no."

Isaac: "For what?"

Isaiah: "I have to turn my head and cough."

Isaac: "What's so hard about that? Look, I can do it." (And he proceeded to turn his head an cough. Poor kid. He'll find out soon enough.)

Isaiah: "Mom, really. You have to go. Take Isaac with you."

I left the room. I took Isaac with me. Dr. Sarah performed the exam. She let us know when we could come back in. I walked back into the room to find Isaiah tucking his shirt in.

Isaiah: "Mom, I feel so violated."

-----

During the "how is everything going" part of the visit, the doctor has to ask lots of questions that some teenagers might not want to answer in front of their mamas.

Doctor: (to Isaiah) "Do you wear your seatbelt?"

Isaiah: "Yep. 100% of the time. You know my dad, right?"

Doctor: "Do you wear your bike helmet?"

Isaiah: "I'm trying."

Doctor: "Do you smoke?"

Isaiah: "No way."

Doctor: "Do you drink?"

Isaiah: "Never."

Doctor: "Do you have sex?"

Isaiah: (looking mortified in my direction) "WHAT?"

Doctor: (staring at her computer screen) "Are you sexually active?"

Isaiah: "No, but are you going to ask if I play with myself?"

First place

2011-09-19T17:33:00.001-05:00

This past weekend was very busy at the HennHouse. Walk, Run, and Roll. Soccer game. The zoo. Company. Papa's 60th birthday party. Training. Work for mom. In addition to the "normal" stuff we do.

At the Walk, Run, and Roll, Esther-Faith placed FIRST among the rollers. We're super proud of her. Although, she's not really sure what the fuss is about. She likes to go fast. And fast she went. Sometimes holding onto a hand. Sometimes propelling herself. Sometimes doing a wheelie.

The point is, she had fun. First place or last. She had fun.

And we felt so loved to have so many of our friends and family--some in person, some in spirit--supporting an organization that means so much to us.

Thank you.


Hanging out with Coach Ryan. Esther-Faith loves Coach Ryan. But when pressed, she will still tell you that she loves Kate more.

Faster! Faster! Faster!

Isaiah ran the 5K in 26:23.
Then he left immediately and played in a soccer game.

Loving on her boy Eamon.

Bagels after the race.

Her preschool friend Nathan.
She was SO HAPPY to see him.

Choosing her first place prize.
A stuffed puppy.
She named it "Pony."

Aunt Kristen got to come to the race this year!
Esther-Faith convinced her to run across the finish line with her.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-09-15T19:10:00.000-05:00

I was explaining to Esther-Faith that Nana and Poobah were coming to spend the night so they can go to the big race with us...

Esther-Faith: "Can Nana sleep in my room with me?!"

Me: "Well, I think she'll want to sleep with Poobah in Mommy's bed."

Esther-Faith: "But, why?!"

Me: "Because she is Poobah's sweetheart and I think she'll want to sleep with him."

Esther-Faith: "But I want Nana to sleep in my room. Poobah can sleep with you and Daddy. He'll fit right between you."

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-09-14T15:25:00.001-05:00

After school we have homework time. Esther-Faith usually sits thisclose to Isaac and not-so-patiently waits for him to get done with his homework so they can play. So, we've started to give her some "homework" to do while she waits. Today, we worked on writing letters.

Me: (handing her a worksheet) "Here you go, Esther-Faith. The letter 'D' like in Dad."

Esther-Faith: "And like in duh."

Sometimes, things just don't go as planned.

2011-09-13T16:37:00.000-05:00

On the way to work this morning, I lost all of my electric system in the truck. Radio. Lights. All of it. So, I took the first turn I could to backtrack back home. Things started blinking and beeping. It was annoying if anything. I pulled into the driveway, turned off the truck, and gave my Tim the best bewildered look that I could muster.

Tim went to work on diagnosing the truck as I went into the house. The boys were still home, and Esther-Faith was waiting for her day with Mimi. The boys were concerned, but not so much that they stopped what they were doing. Isaiah's bus was 30 minutes late. Mimi showed up in time to calm a stressed out Isaiah, loan her vehicle to her favorite son-in-law, and cut out a new fall coat for Esther-Faith.

I was frustrated. Tim wanted to fix the truck on his own. I wanted him to take it to our guy. He said, "I've changed an alternator before." I said, "But I drive my babies around in that truck!" He said, "They're my babies, too." I said, "But don't you want a professional to do it?" He said, "I know what I'm doing." I said, "But I drive my babies around in that truck." He said, "I can save us $300 in labor costs." I said, "See you later."

I have a nice, shiny, new alternator.

And a super-handy Tim.

And if I had gone to work at 7 a.m. instead of 10 a.m., I wouldn't have been able to watch my mom teach my daughter how to lay out and cut a pattern. Which was maybe one of my most favorite moments of the day.

Pinning the pattern to the fabric.

Pinning and playing with the scraps.

Mimi teaches Esther-Faith how to pin.

And because Tim only got three hours of sleep,
I came home to find one child on the stoop,
and these two watching cartoons
while Tim squeezed in a few more minutes of sleep.

It's that time again...

2011-09-10T15:26:00.000-05:00

Things are cyclical here. And it is time for fall soccer.

For maybe the only time in their lives, the boys are playing on the same team. Isaiah is the oldest on the team. Isaac is the youngest.

And Tim is the coach.

To hear Tim tell it, even though he was the youngest kid on the field, Isaac played beautiful soccer today. Unselfish soccer. Passing to his teammates. Feeding the ball to the inside. Not allowing himself to be intimidated.

And as proud as he was of Isaac, Tim was as equally frustrated with his oldest son. Perhaps one of the most gifted players on the field. He played for the glory. Selfish ball. Where he could have exploited his gifts at the expense of the other team's weaknesses, he whined and pouted and bossed. He did play some good soccer, but I think he and the coach are having a differing of opinion about who the coach is.

It's sad, really. Because together, those boys would be unstoppable.

It doesn't get easier

2011-09-07T07:15:00.003-05:00

Anyone who loves their brother and sister lives in the light,

and there is nothing in them to make them stumble.

1 John 2:10

Photo notes:

Isaac reads to Esther-Faith while we wait for her bus.

A book about pancakes.

It still doesn't get easier to watch the kids get on the bus or walk to school.

I miss them all day long.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-09-06T17:30:00.000-05:00

Tim and Esther-Faith spent the day together. He reports that they read hundreds of books multiple times each. That there was successful math time. Successful play-doh time. Unsuccessful lay down time. Successful writing time.

Then I asked Esther-Faith to give me her assessment of the day.

Me: "Esther-Faith! Did you have fun with Daddy today?"

Esther-Faith: "Sure."

Me: "What did you do?"

Esther-Faith: "School stuff."

Me: "So, did you learn anything new?"

Esther-Faith: "Nope. Today was a complete wash."

Fridays with Kiki: Ceramics

2011-09-02T13:14:00.001-05:00

Each Friday, I have the privilege of being home with Esther-Faith. Tim gets her the other days she doesn't have school, but Friday is my day. I also get to retrieve my niece from her kindergarten class and have a "girls' day" with them both.

We had plans to visit the zoo today, but with the temperatures reaching the mid-90s by pick-up time, we opted for an indoor activity: painting our own ceramics!

Esther-Faith and I got her brothers out the door, and we had a relaxing morning until it was time to go get Auri at school. Then, the three of us enjoyed a leisurely lunch and headed to The Clay Cafe. Once inside, I let the girls roam around and pick anything they wanted to paint. Auri chose a vase in the shape of a dress, Esther-Faith chose a kitten bank.

Once selections were made, Ms. Julie helped the girls select colors, paint brushes, and she taught them some age-appropriate techniques to use on their pieces.

The girls painstakingly painted for more than an hour, signed their pieces, and bid farewell to Ms. Julie. I promised them we would come back in a few months to do it again.

We get to pick up the finished pieces in a few days (after they are glazed and fired).

Now, we're relaxing -- quietly so Tim can sleep -- and we're about to do our nails scarlet and gray in preparation for the football game tomorrow.

I love Fridays.

Walk, Run, and Roll

2011-08-31T20:52:00.004-05:00

5K Walk, Run, and Roll
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Registration at 7:45 a.m.; race at 8:30 a.m.

More info here.
Register here.

If you're coming, and you want to have some good food and good fun afterward, let me know. I'll get you directions to the HennHouse.

Homeschool with daddy

2011-08-30T19:47:00.000-05:00

Melting the pink chocolate.

Dipping the pretzels

Decorating the wands

The finished product!

The lions may grow weak and hungry,

but those who seek the LORD lack no good thing.

Come, my children, listen to me;

I will teach you the fear of the LORD.

Psalm 34:10-11

Photo notes:
So, even though there are some serious naysayers, Tim is a great teacher for Esther-Faith. She goes to school 2-3 times a week, and he teaches her 2-3 times a week. I think they're both loving it so far. Every day when I get home, she tells me all about what she learned. She's even able to express what is frustrating her (e.g. today she just couldn't get the "2" to face the right way. That is, until Tim convinced her it was half of a heart with a line at the bottom. Then it clicked.)

Once a week, they have a "kitchen" project. Another day, they have a "garage" project.

Today was kitchen, and they made magic princess wands.

The river

2011-08-24T21:08:00.000-05:00

Getting ready to embark!

Her new thing is winking.
She winks at everyone.
But mostly at Tim.

A couple of miles in, she started to sing,
"Row, row, row your boat!"
Super cute.
Tim sang along.

They had a hard time keeping up.
Both were "experts."
And wanted to tell the other what to do.

Blue Herron flew right in front of us!


The boys missed it. Because they ran aground. Again.

Blue Herron.

We saw hundreds of these guys.

He split the rocks in the wilderness

and gave them water as abundant as the seas;

he brought streams out of a rocky crag

and made water flow down like rivers.

Psalm 78:15-16

Photo notes:

We celebrated the end of summer with a family canoe trip.

We waited to start our trek down the river until

180 high schools girls went ahead in rafts.

Isaiah loved it. I think he gave a couple of them his number.

Once we hit the water,

it took us a while to settle into the rhythm of canoeing.

Three miles.

Or so.

But once we did, it was amazing fun.

The boys almost tipped.

Esther-Faith loved to feel the water and try to row.

And we saw some amazing wildlife.

Pink Princess Cookbook

2011-08-22T21:10:00.004-05:00

"Mama, you're embarrassing me."

He had never said those words to me before. They hurt. Admittedly, I was already in a vulnerable state. And he was scanning the new classroom for other kids he knew. His eyes darting this way and that. Just minutes earlier, he was leaning on me--nearly burying his head in my shoulder. But now... Now that there were other kids around, he wanted no part of holding my hand, snuggling into me, or even acknowledging that I was his mom.

Although, he did hold my hand the whole walk home. And into the house. And he lingered in the kitchen after he was ready for bed. Leaning on me. Clinging to my arm. Smiling whenever I looked down at him.

He is my boy. He is walking that thin line between teenager and child. But he's not eager to grow up. Still longing for the toys and activities of boyhood while being pulled into adolescence. He still likes to snuggle his mama, but he wouldn't be caught dead telling his friends that. He still likes to play tea party with his sister, but he wouldn't tell his friends that for any amount of unlimited video game time. He still wants to wrestle, ride bikes with no destination, dig in the mud for worms, swing endlessly, watch cartoons, and fly kites at the park. But he is feeling the pull into those confusing years.

And I ache for him. For what he is going through. For the little boy who used to beg me for more snuggle time. For the child I could carry to his bed when he fell asleep on the couch.

But time stops for no one.

Especially mamas.

I was prepared for it to be difficult. The goodbyes. The changes. The absolute upturn in our schedules. Kindergarten has a way of doing that. But I already miss the daycare she's been going to for the last five years. And it has only been one day.

On her last day there, I was such a mess, I forgot to cath her before we left. Completely forgot. I was hugging everyone. Trying unsuccessfully not to cry. She was wheeling up and down the hallways passionately yelling that she was going to kindergarten.

And tonight, I trained new people to help her cath. For the first time in YEARS, I will not get to hug her in the middle of the day. She will be cathed twice a day by a nurse. She will have an aid in the classroom with her. She will teach a whole new set of people what it means to love life with abandon. She will navigate new hallways. Maneuver new classrooms. Make new friends. Face new challenges. Charm new teachers and administrators.

She will show new people that disabilities don't define her--that she has complete command of who she is--labels aside.

While I reviewed the signs of shunt failure, what her allergic reactions look like, what her bowel management program is like, what she is allergic to, her "cans" and "shouldn'ts," her medical history, how to don and doff her KAFOs, clean intermittent catheterization, UTIs, and accessibility issues, I watched as dozens of families came into the classroom, introduced themselves to the teachers, discovered the space, and within minutes left for home.

We were there for nearly two hours.

The nurse hugged me goodbye. Long and hard.

I only cried three times.

And only sobbed once.

In a couple of days, Esther-Faith will get on a bus and go to kindergarten. It is not so much the growing up that has me emotional, it is the fear and uncertainty of it all. That she will get onto a big, yellow school bus that will amble down the road with a stranger behind the wheel to an unfamiliar place with unfamiliar people. It is that someone else will cath her. Someone else will handle the aftermath of the picking and teasing.

Someone else will get the mid-afternoon hugs.

For five years, I have been her bus driver and nurse. She has had the same physical therapist all that time. The same people watching her grow and develop and become the diva she is today.

The week before she left the daycare center, the teachers gave her a gift. The "Pink Princess Cookbook." They knew she loves to cook. And that she loves parties. And the color pink. She didn't have to answer any questions. I didn't have to give any explanations or complete any forms. No one had asked about her spina bifida or hydrocephalus or neurogenic bowel and bladder or her surgeries or allergies or favorite color or favorite stuffed animal in YEARS.

They simply knew my girl.

And she has grown up with those daycare kids, too. Her wheelchair was no longer a novelty or mystery to the kids. Her friends learned to step over her crutches. The teachers learned to put on and take off her orthotics. She learned how to communicate if she was having a problem. They knew each other. There were no more questions. No labels or explanations needed.

There was comfort.

And ease.

And love.

And now. A new space. New people. New school. New adventures. And new challenges.

For all of my kids. Eighth grade. Fifth grade. Kindergarten.

Time slows for no one.

Especially mamas.

Especially mamas who have to fill out classroom questionnaires. Sit through IEP update meetings. Explain behaviors and medications and medical procedures and emotional disturbances. Again. To new teachers.

I sat at the dining room table after all of the kids had gone to bed. Dripping with sweat from a conflicted and fierce workout. I sobbed. Tim sat close. Apologizing for nothing and everything. Wanting to take away my tears. While understanding my anguish. He wrapped his arms around me. Bumping the mug rack, making the mugs clang against one another. And I begged him to understand something he clearly understood.

That we want their teachers to know who they are without the sheer curtain of their labels. That Isaiah is turning into an amazing young man with a strong drive to do the right thing. DESPITE the RAD and ODD and ADHD and CD and mood disorder. And sweet, sensitive Isaac is also protective and charming and brilliant. DESPITE the RAD and ADHD and hearing loss. And that Esther-Faith is so much more than her wheelchair and her braces and her crutches and her medical procedures would lead you them to believe. That she is an AMAZING little girl who happens to deal with a lot more than the typical five year old.

That she is not her labels. She is NOT her spina bifida. She is NOT her disabilities. She is Esther-Faith. And she is learning to deal with those things, but she is SO MUCH MORE. More than her labels. More than her equipment. More than what she will overcome.

They are remarkable kids, I told him. Soaking the shoulder of his wheelchair-heart t-shirt with messy, raw tears. "I know," he said. "I know." He pulled away and held my face in his hands--wet with my emotion. "They will show the world that labels are just labels," he gently assured me. "She will be ok, if for no other reason, than because she is Esther-Faith--and THAT'S what people will see."

He concluded by letting me know that he will be following the bus to school in a couple of days. That he will have the telephoto lens out to take pictures of her getting off the bus on her first day of kindergarten. And that he will come home when he's done with his own messy, raw emotions.

Because time doesn't stop for dads either.

-----

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you

and not to harm you, plans to
give you hope and a future.

Jeremiah 29:11

-----

Teaching moment

2011-08-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

Fathers, do not exasperate your children;

instead, bring them up in the training

and instruction of the Lord.

Ephesians 6:4

Photo notes:

The other day on the way to work, it went a little like this...

Me: (hearing a clanging metal sound) "Isaiah, what is that sound?"

Isaiah: (surveying the area behind the seat) "I don't know. I might be the sunscreen rolling around and hitting the wheelchair."

It sounded like a reasonable explanation. As we traveled along, Isaiah moved things around to try to stop the sound.

Isaiah: "Mom, I don't think it's the sunscreen."

Me: "Why not?"

Isaiah: "Because there isn't any sunscreen in the back of the truck. I think it's coming from outside the vehicle."

As we neared his camp drop-off location, I rolled down the windows and a sinking feeling filled the pit of my stomach.

Me: "Oh, no. That's my muffler dragging on the ground."

Once we got to camp, Isaiah and I climbed out of the truck, and sure enough, the tailpipe was hanging off the back of the truck. I called my boss and let her know I would be taking the truck to the shop instead of coming to the office. I called Tim and told him what was going on. And I started for home.

When I got home, thoroughly frustrated (because we just had the truck in the shop a week ago to the tune of $4000), Tim promised to "take care" of it. Tim decided to see if he could fix the truck first. So, he and the kids took a look.

It was adorable to listen to Esther-Faith repeat the different truck parts. She was convinced she could fix everything with her new mini vice grips. And Isaac just asked if he should go get the duct tape.

They learn fast.

Tim's a good teacher.

Peer pressure

2011-08-11T19:10:00.000-05:00

Tonight we did Isaac's FAVORITE part of gardening: picking the vegetables!

We picked a LOT of vegetables. Six kinds of peppers (and not a one of them sweet), cucumbers, tomatoes, and beets. We didn't touch the butternut squash, eggplant, or swiss chard.

After picking, Isaac and I were sorting the peppers when Tim and Isaiah decided to see just how hot the peppers would be if they ate them. Tim grabbed a paring knife and a couple of the peppers that we haven't grown before. He sliced the end off of a long, skinny pepper and ate it. He cut a chunk off for Isaiah. They both have a high threshold for hot-pepper-pain, but they both agreed, the pepper was stinking hot.

But that wasn't enough for them.

Oh, no.

Then Tim cut one of the tiny, shiny green peppers (that SMELLED hot) in half and popped it in his mouth. A split second later he spit it back out. He never even bit it. It was that hot.

So, Isaiah said, "Let me try!"

And Tim, aspiring to be father of the year, let him.

The pepper produced spontaneous hiccups in my dear Tim. And Isaiah drank a couple of quarts of water and ate the crust of dry bread. He asked, "How do I get the burning on my tongue to stop?!"

The two of them were reduced to giggles in the kitchen. Mind you, they were giggling with full mouths of water and bread. Thus, giggling and spitting. Which caused more giggling.

I had to kick them out.

Seriously. I was trying to sort peppers!

(BTW--if you're on our Christmas gift-giving list, don't read any farther, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise.)

Clouds

2011-08-10T21:49:00.000-05:00

This was AFTER she managed to get
her kite caught in a tree.

Isaac probably did the best.
After we untangled his string.
And he had so much fun.

Isaiah likes to let all of the string out.
Which is fine.
Unless he is under the electric wires.

Esther-Faith flies her butterfly.

Isaiah's airplane.

While Tim was fetching her kite from the tree, she
decided to "help"Isaiah get his kite into the sky.
She totally chased him down.

He makes the clouds his chariot

and rides on the wings of the wind.

He makes winds his messengers,

flames of fire his servants.

He set the earth on its foundations;

it can never be moved.

Psalm 104:3-5

Photo notes:

We follow a pretty strict schedule.

But sometimes, we throw it out the window,

and fly kites instead.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-08-07T20:58:00.001-05:00

Isaac and Esther-Faith were in the play room coloring and drawing. Esther-Faith decided to make a card for Kate. (I love that the second word she learned to write from memory--after her own name--is Kate's name!)

Isaac: "Esther-Faith, there are too many lines on that 'E'."

Esther-Faith: "Don't worry about it, Isaac. It's the new 'E'."

Esther-Faith giving Kate a hug after her
final Miracle League game.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-08-05T20:41:00.000-05:00

Tim has left for work. The boys are home from soccer camp. Esther-Faith is in bed, but not asleep. Isaac had just walked out of the bathroom from taking a shower...

Esther-Faith: (to Isaac, I think) "That's it! I don't want to hear ANY more of your who-ha!"

"There was a young woman who lived in a shoe store"

2011-08-04T19:42:00.039-05:00

"Some stories are so happy, they don't need an ending!"

I walked into my cubicle Monday morning, stacks of paper all over, half-packed boxes filling 1/4 of the space, and a bright bouquet of fresh picked flowers in front of the second monitor that I was assigned, but I'm sure I don't need. Propped against the clear, glass vase was a card. I recognized the handwriting right away.

I put my lunch box in my locker to the left of my desk. I dropped my bag onto the floor and I schlumped into my chair. Mornings are not always the smoothest at the HennHouse, and Monday morning was especially difficult.

Even though my mom called first thing, my dad and my nephew both called and sang to me, and my family all wished me happy birthday, I know that birthdays are trigger events for the boys, and in the absence of knowing how to deal with what hurts, they express their feelings as apathy, anger, opposition, or defiance. Even though we know it is coming, we sometimes still struggle.

To make matters worse, I had my biometric health screening Monday morning. So I had been fasting for 12 hours. No coffee. No smoothie. Nothing but water for 12 hours didn't help much.

I held the card in my had for a while before opening it. When I finally did, I found the pre-printed message about living in a shoe store, and six hand-written messages from my co-workers. Most of them about shoes. All of them something personal and perfect. I set the card to the left of my keyboard in my line of sight and set to work.

About an hour later my sister walked up behind me, wrapped her arms around me and wished me a happy birthday. Even though our jobs are very different and we work for different divisions, we do get to work on the same floor in the same building. And it was so nice to have her wish me happy birthday in person! When I got back from cathing Esther-Faith at lunchtime, she had our favorite sandwich for us to split--complete with chocolate chip cookies!!

While I was sitting in my sister's cubicle enjoying my "birthday" lunch, my brother called. Every year we are the same age for 11 days. And he just called to wish me a "happy birthday" and to warn me that this is the year I would start to feel old.

Ummm. Thanks, Sam.

And before he left for elite soccer camp, Isaiah handed me a card. He hovered over me while I read it. I've read it six times since. It's the kind of card that I will keep forever. The message inside reassuring me that even though is is immensely difficult sometimes, that all of our work is paying off. That we're getting through. That he is learning and developing and even attaching. He wrote, "You're my mom. Forever. And ever." And he underlined the word "forever."

Monday evening, after everyone was in bed, Tim arranged for my mom to come sit in our quiet house and he took me to one of our favorite restaurants. He had called ahead to make sure the kitchen was still open, and he was assured that it was open until 11 p.m. We showed up at 10:05 p.m. To a closed restaurant and a closed kitchen.

However....

The chef was still in the kitchen working on the menu for the next day. So, they let us in, sat us on the dimly lit patio, and got us whatever we wanted. Including a slice of chocolate cake the size of my head for dessert--on the house. They apologized over and over that they were cleaning the rest of the restaurant. They brought us the next evening's special (which, OMG, was it good), and when Tim's leftover romano chicken was inadvertently thrown away, they brought him a gift card for his next meal on the house.

Yeah, we tipped big.

I've received some of the most beautiful (and some of them handmade) cards from my grandmother, my college roommate, and my Bible study sisters, a bracelet from Tim's parents, a couple of last-minute text messages from Tim's siblings, heartfelt sentiments from dear friends, and the birthday shoes I ordered for myself came two days early. (Oh, yes. There is such a thing.)

Image courtesy myhabit.com

There are still presents sitting on the coffee table in the sitting area. I know the slim one is the movie "Rio" from Esther-Faith because she said (complete with animated hand gestures), "I'm not supposed to tell you the little one is the movie "Rio" because it is a SURPRISE!!!" And there is a big, heavy box from Tim, gift bag from Isaiah, and Isaac has been making me baked goods all week--promising a red velvet cake this weekend. I think we're going to a very early breakfast celebration when Tim gets off work Saturday morning so I can open the presents.

But even if they are all empty boxes, my "halfway to 70" birthday was pretty spectacular. Certainly one of the most memorable that I've had.

And even if it hadn't been, just having the idea planted in my head that someday I could live in a shoe store--and that is enough--makes me very, very happy.

Closer than a brother

2011-08-03T18:44:00.002-05:00


Esther-Faith would only let Hoss and Alison open their eyes if she pinched their noses. They obliged.

Oh, Brendan!
He asked me my name. And my age.
And I could have eaten him up he is so adorable.

Connor is the spittin image of his dad.
Smart as a whip, too.

We have hundreds of photos of Cassie.
Tim likes to act like the paparazzi with her.
She likes to play along.

I would take this ornery little booger in a heartbeat.
John Paul is so cute and so squeezable.
And he totally loved my food.

There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.

Proverbs 18:24b

Photo notes:

The past two weekends we've had some very good friends visit.

Hoss and Alison visited and thoroughly spoiled the kids. Bringing books and presents and toys and an enormous amount of fun. Alison was my college roommate, and to this day, she is one of my most favorite people on the planet. She and I are in the same line of work. And as it turns out, so are Hoss and Tim. We had lots to talk about. And as always, the visit was way too short.

And this past weekend, even though we're struggling to nail down what is "wrong" with Esther-Faith, Jeff, Melissa, and their kids came anyway. Jeff and Melissa are also college friends--during college, we used to have dinner together every Sunday night after we were all off work. Spaghetti and garlic bread every week. We had a great time talking with them this past Sunday, and listening to our seven kids laugh and play in the other room. With bedtimes and routines for the kids, our visit with the Blair family was also a fraction of the time we wanted to spend with them.

No matter how much time passes between visits, we never seem to lose ground with these friends. They are amazing people and every time we sit down with them, it is as if no time has passed at all. I love that. And I'm anxious to get some more visits scheduled in the near future.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-08-02T15:56:00.001-05:00

Esther-Faith is so dramatic, that it seeps into all aspects of our lives...

Esther-Faith: (as I was leaving after transferring her from preschool to daycare) "Break a leg, Mom!"

Me: (standing in the doorway) "What?"

Esther-Faith: "I said, 'Break a leg, Mom!' It means goodbye in Spanish."

Just sick?

2011-07-31T21:25:00.000-05:00

The constant "snap, snap" of Isaiah taking apart the k'nex Ferris wheel in the other room was soothing as I rocked back and forth with my head in my hands. I had just poured through Proverbs 3 seeking comfort and promise from the scriptures I believe, while simultaneously struggling with worry about my daughter upstairs.

She was sick. For the second time this week. Mysterious, sudden, and scary sick. She wanted the comfort of her favorite movie and her favorite brother. I obliged with both. Isaac wouldn't have it any other way. So, he sat vigil next to her bed while she watched "Cars."

Every time she flinched, grabbed her stomach, grimaced in pain, whimpered in fear, or needed anything, he was at her beck and call. He fetched her anything she needed or wanted. He jumped at each sound. And he did it all voluntarily.

I sent Tim scarce updates via text. I knew he was busy working, and I didn't him to worry. But an hour before his shift ended, he took leave and made his way home. She had a rough night--up every couple of hours. I had a rough night, too. Barely sleeping. Up every few minutes to check on her. Worrying. At 1:45 a.m. she panicked because I had sent Isaac to his own bed. Isaac, the BEST big brother on the planet, came back to her bedroom and camped out on her floor.

By the morning, she seemed to be back to her old self. Just like what happened on Tuesday night/Wednesday morning. She asked for cereal. And she wanted to play. She didn't seem sick at all.

I've been doing this long enough to know that sometimes what seems like a simple illness is more than it seems. Sometimes, what presents as a virus is a virus. And sometimes, what presents as a virus is an intestinal blockage or shunt malfunction.

And that is what we suspect this time. The sudden sickness. The additional symptoms. The unpredictably of it all.

We'll ask her how she is feeling, and she will answer, "Great!" Even as she clutches her body in obvious pain.

So, every time she is sick, my mind goes to the dark places that borrow trouble from the unknown. I worry about what is and what could be. About getting appointments and tests scheduled. Taking time off work. Getting results. Doing it all alone.

Even as we approach this next chapter in her care, I am aware that we are walking this road together. Last night, as he picked up toys and nervously cleaned, Isaiah kept saying, "Even if she is sick, she will be okay."

His love for her palpable. His worry inescapable. His commitment to his sister and his family unflappable. His trust was in the one who gave the promise I poured through in Proverbs. The boys and I stayed up late watching a movie based on a book they had both read. We checked on Esther-Faith every few minutes. And we prayed a lot.

Because even if she is "just sick" or more than "just sick," we know that in the end, it will all be ok.

Let love and faithfulness never leave you;

bind them around your neck,

write them on the tablet of your heart.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways submit to him,

and he will make your paths straight.

Proverbs 3:3, 5-6

Painting her new pencil box for kindergarten on Wednesday.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-07-27T17:08:00.000-05:00

After his orthodontist appointment today, Isaac and I had a few minutes before we had to pick up Isaiah at camp, so we headed to Starbucks for a cool beverage and a peanut butter cupcake.

Isaac: (with cupcake all over his hands, face, and shirt) "Do you think that when we get to heaven Daddy and Esther-Faith won't have allergies so they can eat peanut butter?"

Me: "Yeah. I'd like to think so. They sure are missing out."

Isaac: (nearly under his breath) "If Esther-Faith goes to heaven."

Me: (stifling a chuckle) "What?"

Isaac: "Well, I mean, she probably will. But I don't think she'll want to try peanut butter."

Radiant joy

2011-07-27T08:28:00.001-05:00

Then you will look and be radiant,

your heart will throb and swell with joy.

Isaiah 60:5a

Photo notes:

It just doesn't seem possible that eight years have gone by since this baby boy was born. Since I held his squirmy, newborn self in my arms and marveled at his perfection. Since I sang to him and tried to cram 18 years of Sunday school lessons into that first meeting. Since I realized that he stole a piece of my heart that I will never get back.

He's getting ready for his first sleep-away camp. He's going into the third grade. He's growing his hair out to donate it. He's smart. And funny. And adorable.

Even as we celebrated last night and realized that the last eight years have been a blur, I know the next eight will go by even faster.

Happy birthday baby boy. Your Kiki loves you very much.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-07-26T21:44:00.000-05:00

This morning during our drop off routine at preschool...

Me: "Esther-Faith, will you go out to dinner with me for my birthday next week?"

Esther-Faith: (excitedly and with exaggerated hand gestures) "Are you going to make cupcakes?"

Me: "That sounds good... maybe I will make cupcakes."

Esther-Faith: (seeming all in one breath) "Here is how it is going to go... You're going to make cupcakes. Then you're going to go upstairs and put on your birthday dress. I'm going to decorate the cupcakes. Are you paying attention? Then you're going to come downstairs, and we're going to have the cupcakes decorated, and we're going to hide the cupcakes. Then, you're going to walk in and we're going to yell SURPRISE. And you're going to be so happy that it's your birthday!"

When she yelled surprise, she make a surprised face and a swift, punctuated hand gesture that caused her wheelchair to roll about two feet backwards.

Me: "I get a birthday dress?"

Esther-Faith: "Yes. I'll tell daddy. And it will be a SURPRISE!"

One game to go...

2011-07-25T21:43:00.000-05:00

I can't believe that the Miracle League season is almost over. There is only one game left, and it will be shortened so there is time for the trophy ceremony. I am so glad we were introduced to this wonderful organization.

Once she heard that she was going to get a trophy, it was over. She wants that trophy SO BAD.

I can't wait to see her with it.

This week though, we were so happy that Ms. Kristina (who introduced Esther-Faith to the movie "Tangled." BTW, Esther-Faith won't let me trim her hair because she thinks it will turn brown and stay short forever because of the movie "Tangled.") Anyway, Ms. Kristina and Mr. Keith braved the nearly 100-degree heat to see her play. She was stoked to have a bigger audience--her cousins were there, too.

Isaac learned quick to step away
when she goes up to bat!

She said, "HiYa" when she hit the ball.


Each week, one player gets to hit a grand slam home run. This week was Esther-Faith's week!!

We grew garlic!!

2011-07-19T22:11:00.000-05:00

“Listen! A farmer went out to sow his seed.
As he was scattering the seed,
some fell along the path,
and the birds came and ate it up.
Some fell on rocky places,
where it did not have much soil.
It sprang up quickly,
because the soil was shallow.
But when the sun came up,
the plants were scorched,
and they withered because they had no root.
Other seed fell among thorns,
which grew up and choked the plants,
so that they did not bear grain.
Still other seed fell on good soil.
It came up, grew and produced a crop,
some multiplying thirty, some sixty, some a hundred times.”

Mark 4:3-8

Photo notes:

Sometimes, I catch myself feeling sad that we don't take exotic family vacations. Or upset that our life includes a whole lot of therapy, medical procedures, therapeutic parenting, and very strict schedules. I sometimes catch myself feeling like we're not giving our kids everything we could be. Especially as friends and family slip away because being our friends and family takes a lot of extra patience and work because we're not always that fun to be around.

And then, I spent an hour in the garden with my oldest child. Wandering from box to box. Pulling weeds. Talking about varieties. And seeds. And water. And we discovered that what we did together months ago is reaping huge rewards.

Like the cucumbers.

We started four plants indoors. During transplanting, we discovered we had space for five. So, we threw a seed in the ground. It was our shrug-your-shoulders-and-hope-for-the-best seed. Those four plants died, and the day Isaiah and I picked veggies, we picked a dozen cucumbers off of our "hail mary" plant just that evening.

We picked dozens of peppers, five roses, two zucchini, a bouquet of mint, other herbs, lettuce, and swiss chard. We've got baby banana peppers, baby butternut squash, pumpkin buds, an eggplant flower, and HUNDREDS of green tomatoes. We also pulled our first garlic out of the ground.

Isaiah and I went running into the house to show Tim. We have never grown garlic before, and these we put in the ground last October. And all we could get out were excited shouts, "We grew garlic! We grew garlic!"

Tim pulled the rest of the garlic this evening. Twenty-five bulbs in all. And we salvaged about 12 bulbils. Beautiful, spicy, hard-neck garlic. Isaiah remarked that it was amazing that we planted it so long ago, and now we have such incredible yield.

And I started to think, that's exactly what we're doing. Planting seeds now that will yield big returns later. Even though it is hard and our hands are muddy and we're not really sure what shape things will take, we're planting and watering and weeding. Some of our seeds fall into the thorns. Some fall on the path. Some fall in the rocks.

But when we pay attention to where we plant our seed, the yield is good. Producing 30, 60, or 100 times what we expect. I would rather plant 18 garlic cloves and yield 26 bulbs than never risk planting them at all. I would rather have 30, 60, or 100 times what I expect than go on a fancy vacation to an exotic locale. I would rather keep up with the grind of therapies knowing that there will eventually be a breakthrough than not try at all.

I would rather be surprised every time Isaiah has an essay published or Esther-Faith walks without her crutches or Isaac creates something with his hands than worry about the fair-weather friends and family who fall away when we are in crisis.

The irony

2011-07-18T21:46:00.000-05:00

Or maybe I'm not using that word right...

But Tim packed my lunch today. A beautiful salad of red leaf lettuce, fresh veggies, and vegan onion dressing in a cotton candy container. It said, "smile guaranteed" on the side. Yep.

Image courtesy of funsweets.com

And, as if we don't have enough going on (my niece and nephew are staying with us for a week), Tim shut my foot in the car door today. As in swollen, changing colors, probably not wearing heels tomorrow shut it in the door. It was an accident. Not along the same lines as "dude kicked me in my foot" accident, but still. His response, "at least it is your left foot." Inferring that I can still drive the kids around.

Yeah. That's what I was thinking.

At least when he broke his foot, he got some visitors, his mama brought him stuff--twice, he didn't have to drive ANYWHERE for six weeks, and he sat in his chair and had me fetch WHATEVER he wanted for a couple of weeks. And he says, at least you can still drive the kids around? Really?!

And, I was thinking about all the beautiful open-toe heels I'm NOT going to be wearing the next few days.

image courtesy amazon.com
But, I do own these shoes.
In this (and another) color.
A gift from Tim.
And I won't be wearing them tomorrow.

Miracle League

2011-07-16T21:36:00.000-05:00

Today's game was late to start,
and Esther-Faith noticed that the line-up
hadn't been written on the white board yet.
So, she took it upon herself to "help."

Well, at least she made the line-up!

At bat.
It was 90 degrees today.
And SO humid.

There were a couple of extra buddies today.
Esther-Faith loves extra "buddies."

Splash

2011-07-13T19:02:00.000-05:00

Energize the limp hands,

strengthen the rubbery knees.

Tell fearful souls,

"Courage! Take heart!

God is here, right here,

on his way to put things right

And redress all wrongs.

He's on his way! He'll save you!"

Blind eyes will be opened,

deaf ears unstopped,

Lame men and women will leap like deer,

the voiceless break into song.

Springs of water will burst out in the wilderness,

streams flow in the desert.

Hot sands will become a cool oasis,

thirsty ground a splashing fountain.

Isaiah 35:4-6

Photo notes:

It was a nice afternoon in Tim's parents'

idyllic backyard. Pool and all.

But, I'm not sure how it is possible for

someone with such an irrational and

paralyzing fear of open bodies of water

to be in a family of people who love

the water like fish love the water.

They play, swim, dunk, jump, and have fun.

While I just try to keep my heart in my chest.

The whole time.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-07-12T16:53:00.000-05:00

Esther-Faith and I were snuggling in Tim's laz-y-boy chair...

Esther-Faith: "What's this crack?" (making a general gesturing toward my chest)

Me: (pulling up my shirt) "This crack?"

Esther-Faith: "Yeah. The crack between your boobs."

Me: "That's called cleavage."

Esther-Faith: "What's cleavage for?"

Me: "Well, it's just the space between breasts."

Esther-Faith: "But what's it for?"

Me: "I'll tell you in 16 years."

Esther-Faith: (looking down her own shirt) "I don't have any cleavage."

Me: "Nope. Not yet."

Esther-Faith: "I don't even have any boobs."

Me: "Nope. Not yet. You don't really need them yet."

Esther-Faith: "Where is Daddy's cleavage?"

Me: (chuckling) "He doesn't have any."

Esther-Faith: "But doesn't he have boobs?"

Me: (still chuckling) "Nope. Boys don't really need them."

Esther-Faith: (climbing off my lap and crawling toward where Tim is lounging on the couch) "I'm going to check anyway."

(upon inspection and in utter surprise) "Daddy doesn't have any boobs OR any cleavage!"

Me: "Nope."

Esther-Faith: "So he doesn't need any?"

Me: "Nope."

Esther-Faith: "So, what's it for?"

Me: (walking toward the kitchen) "Well, can I tell you in 16 years?"

America's pastime

2011-07-09T17:48:00.000-05:00

Waiting for the game to begin.

Hanging out with Coach.

At bat.

Catch in the outfield.

Overheard at the HennHouse

2011-07-07T21:15:00.000-05:00

While watching the recording of the Mexico vs. New Zealand Women's World Cup soccer match...

Isaac: "I'm rooting for Mexico because of Uncle Jeremy and Aunt Tracy."

Me: "What?"

Isaac: (letting his voice trail off) "But I thought..."

Me: "Baby, they live in Texas. Not Mexico."

Esther-Faith: "I'm cheering for Germany."

Blessings

2011-07-06T19:58:00.000-05:00

She burned her marshmallow.
Then she wore it.

He can polish about a dozen of these off at a time.

About half of his throws were perfect spirals.

This is not posed. I totally caught that ball.

From the fullness of his grace,

we have received one blessing after another.

John 1:16

Photo notes:

Many summer evenings at the HennHouse,
you will find us in the yard
hanging out with friends
with the fire pit going.
oftentimes, eating s'mores.

Sometimes, the kids even get me to
*gasp*
"play" sports with them.

Hanging out

2011-07-05T08:02:00.001-05:00

Today, I'm hanging out at SpinabifidaKids.blogspot.com.

It's no big deal... Just that my kids were on the cover of "Insights into Spina Bifida" this month.
(Subscribe here)

And there's an article inside about how they *cough* get along with each other.

And an essay by my eldest son.

No big deal at all.

Really.

Adventures (in general)

2011-07-04T09:44:00.003-05:00

My mama always said, "Don't wear shoes lighter than the hem of your skirt." Yesterday, I wore white heels with a navy blue skirt. I spent the day looking over my shoulder in case the fashion police were out.

When I serve something new for dinner, before she will put any on her plate, she will ask, "Is it vegetables?" It's not that she doesn't like vegetables. It's that she THINKS she doesn't like vegetables. I always feel a little bit guilty when I tell her, "No."

Isaiah turned in his first job application the other day. The penmanship was horrible, he used pencil and three different ink colors (including a crayola marker), and he folded it down to the size of a quarter so it would fit into his pocket while he rode his bike to Tim Horton's to turn it in. He's SHOCKED that he hasn't received a call yet. BUT, he didn't/doesn't want my advice. As he puts it, I'm so old, I don't know anything about being a teenager or getting a job.

*Smile*

Adjusting to Tim's new schedule is proving more difficult than we thought it would be. For now, he's working all three shifts in two-day stints. We've taken to writing his schedule on the weekly calendar on the fridge where we keep track of the kids activities. When he gets home in the morning after a midnight shift, Isaac and Esther-Faith have taken to crawling into bed with him. It never works out for very long though. Those two can't be in the same room without arguing or giggling. Which doesn't help Tim sleep.

I have many coping mechanisms for stress. Aside from emotional eating (which I unsuccessfully try not to do), I clean, bake, wring my hands, write, read, and watch way too many cop shows on television. This morning when Tim got off work (late, as usual), he walked into a completely rearranged house. He didn't say a word. Just wandered upstairs and crashed. I think he hopes he doesn't land on midnights for long--I promised the garage was next.

I typically read the Bible while I ride the exercise bike. The other day, Isaac came to the basement with me. We read Proverbs and then played UNO. He was stunned by some of what we read. He was amazed that some of what I say is actually in the Bible. He thought practical stuff wasn't in the Bible. Like eating too many sweets will make you sick (25:16). Don't wear out your welcome (25:17). Don't argue with a fool or you will be just like him (26:5). Saying "I was just kidding" is like shooting someone (26:18-19). Friends are like sweet perfume (27:9). Confessing sin brings mercy (28:13). Parents are SUPPOSED to discipline their children (29:17). And lots more. That child was up all night worrying about it. And he asked me to read him some more. I think Proverbs is my new favorite book.

It is no secret that I love shoes. I ESPECIALLY love shoes that are super-cute and 90% off. I ordered some new shoes the other day and told Tim he owed me. He smiled and said that I'll be ordering him some geeky camera stuff sometime soon.

*smile*

Times can sometimes get chaotic over here at the HennHouse. Last night just before her evening catheter, the toilet broke and flooded the bathroom. Once we had that under control and she was finally resting in her bed, the local fireworks started. She does not like fireworks. Tears ensued. I couldn't hang out with her because I needed to fix the toilet. So, Isaac camped out with her and they watched "Cars." Once I had the toilet "situation" under control, I discovered my youngest two sound asleep snuggled up together with half a dozen stuffed animals. The important thing here though is that I fixed the toilet and I didn't have to call Tim once.

See, he totally owes me those shoes.

Some of my favorites

2011-07-01T17:29:00.000-05:00

If Isaac understood the concept of countdowns, he would have
one going to count down the days until he is also in this uniform.
He is his Daddy's boy. 100%
Be still my heart.

Tim and his (now retired) mentor. So awesome that Harry and
his wife came to the ceremony!

Family photo. My mom and Tim's parents came out for the
ceremony and lunch after.
And it doesn't matter who is in the photo.
Esther-Faith acts like it is just her.

It's been a long while since we sat for a photo.
Just the two of us.
So glad I got that dress.
And those new shoes.
:)

Not her though. She LOVES to pose for photos.

Tim and the kids.
They all loved it. Especially Tim.

Esther-Faith was two the last time we had a family photo taken.
It was so worth the wait.

This is more of the HennHouse style.
Goofy and full of drama.
This is one we're getting put on a mug for Mimi.
And we're having it framed for the house.
Poster size.
Oh yes we are.

Beauty

2011-06-28T20:49:00.000-05:00

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;

but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.

Proverbs 31:30

Photo notes:

Isaac lets Esther-Faith doll him up.

She can be convincing that way.

Especially with Isaac.

I'm starting to think she might need a sister.

Grandparents' Day at the Miracle League

2011-06-25T22:38:00.001-05:00

Practicing before the game starts

She loves this stuff.
She would "play" baseball everyday.

Waiting for the next batter.

At bat!!

Her version of sliding into the bases:
Wheel as fast as she can, and then,
slam on the brakes when she reaches the plate.

Some kids play baseball for the snacks.
Esther-Faith plays for her coach.
When we get there, she grabs his hand, says "Hey coach,"
and they practice running the bases.

The kids with Nana and Poobah
for Grandparents' Day.

Family pizza night

2011-06-24T21:54:00.000-05:00

For immediate release

2011-06-22T12:00:00.001-05:00

For the one in authority

is God’s servant for your good.

But if you do wrong, be afraid,

for rulers do not bear the sword

for no reason. They are God’s servants,

agents of wrath

to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.

Romans 13:4

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----

The following was released to the press earlier today:

Ohio State Highway Patrol
Media Release

For Immediate Release: June 22, 2011
Contact: Lt. Rick Zwayer (937) 644-8811

Patrol’s Tpr. Henn promoted to Sergeant at the Marysville Post

COLUMBUS – Trooper Timothy A. Henn was promoted to the rank of sergeant today by Colonel John Born, Patrol superintendent, during a ceremony at the Patrol’s Academy. Sgt. Henn will transfer from his current assignment in the Office of Investigative Services to serve as an assistant post commander at the Marysville Post.

Sgt. Henn began his Patrol career in June 1999 as a member of the 134th Academy Class. He received his commission in December of that year and was assigned to the Springfield Post. In December 2001, he transferred to the West Jefferson Post, and in December 2004 he transferred to the Office of Investigative Services.

Sgt. Henn earned his Bachelor of Arts degree in criminology in June 1997 from the Ohio State University. He currently resides in Galloway.

The Ohio State Highway Patrol is an internationally accredited agency whose mission is to protect life and property, promote traffic safety and provide professional public safety services with respect, compassion, and unbiased professionalism.

# # #

Volunteers

2011-06-20T19:56:00.000-05:00

Is it no secret that over here at the HennHouse, we love gardening and all that it teaches us. In fact, I couldn't get my banana pepper seed to take this year, and then I couldn't find any banana pepper plants, so my boss found some and I CAN'T WAIT to give her a jar of canned peppers. (There are already baby peppers on some of the plants!)

But as is usually the case, we've had some "volunteers" sprout up again this year. In the garlic, we had winter wheat. In the tomatoes, we had cantaloupe. In in one of the pepper boxes, we had a giant bunch of swiss chard and an onion. My brother (a master gardener if there ever was one--I have serious garden envy) told us to let the onion go to seed and then we'd never have to buy onion sets again.

So, we did.

And, the result is beautiful. I've never seen an onion go to seed.

Per Sam, now we wait. He said that once the color changes, we cut it off, set it in a bowl in the cupboard, and just let it dry for a couple of months.

We'll see.

For now, I'm enjoying the new look of that corner of one of the garden boxes.

How is your garden going? Anything unexpected or interesting sprout where you didn't plant it?

Grateful

2011-06-19T22:07:00.000-05:00

On this Father's Day, I am just grateful that my dad is still here. That I have more time with him. That he is greatly improved from two weeks ago. And even more so from this week. Some days it feels like a roller coaster, but most days, it just feels like we keep getting another chance with him. More chances at conversation. More chances to laugh. More chances to learn. More chances to love.

I spent some time standing next to his bed today, holding his hand, and listening to him apologize (again) for the scare he gave us last week. We chuckled at our sneakiness in sending mom some flowers. We talked about the kids. Tim's new job. How fast Isaiah is growing. How much Isaac loves camp. The kids stood around, too. Happy to have more time with Papa. Just happy to be with him.

Happy for chances.

Gotcha

2011-06-18T20:38:00.017-05:00

The photo of the boys on the day we met them will always be the same, but everything about them and us has changed. We have--against some pretty stiff challenges--become a family.

While we still have our difficult moments, and some days it feels like we're still finding our way, there is no doubt that we belong together. We are happy most of the time, and even when the going seems to get really tough, we find ourselves turning inward to refocus our energy on loving and helping each other.

These boys have changed and become my heart. They are amazing sons. I cannot remember when they weren't mine.

Stay-cation (almost) entirely discounted by Groupon

2011-06-17T20:17:00.015-05:00

While we didn't "go" anywhere for vacation this year, we did pack our days with fun stuff. We planned ahead and bought some groupons for local attractions, and then we picked restaurants (for which we ALSO bought groupons!) to go with our theme for the day.

Monday, June 6: Center of Science and Industry.
Lunch at the Spaghetti Warehouse in a trolley car.
S'mores by the fire pit.

Create your own dinosaur.

Underwater exploration.

Tuesday, June 7: Esther-Faith went to play with Kate; the boys and I went to her IEP meeting and then see Kung Fu Panda 2. We ate at Pho (Asian food). In the evening Isaac and Esther-Faith painted bird houses while Isaiah plotted how to run away from home in search of a "normal" family.

Choosing and mixing colors.

So precise.

Wednesday, June 8: Scale replica of the Santa Maria. After we toured the boat, we sat in the shade and watched the funeral procession for the county sheriff. We ate at Hoggy's (Isaiah's choice--the thought good old American BBQ was perfect after seeing a replica of the boat Christopher Columbus sailed on.)

Isaiah was acting as the anchor.

Smittie helped Esther-Faith pump water.

Steering the Santa Maria.

Isaac discovers what the rope hanging by the poop deck was used for.

Watching the processional.

She ordered wings for lunch.
Tim was so proud.

Thursday, June 9: Zoo and Aquarium, lunch at Anna's Greek Cuisine. Anna's is maybe our FAVORITE restaurant. Esther-Faith even ordered a mini-gyro.

This polar bear was catching and eating fish.

One agitated rhino was kept indoors.

Friday, June 10: Ohio Historical Society and lunch at Bob Evans (a restaurant chain started in Ohio. The kids argued that so did Skyline and Wendy's, but since I was paying, we went where I could get a salad).

In the early Ohio room.

Some kind of engine. Honestly, there was too much to see.
We'll be going back soon.

Papa

2011-06-15T20:22:00.001-05:00

And he took the children in his arms,

put his hands on them, and blessed them.

Mark 10:16

Photo notes:

My dad is having a rough time.

Tired. Confused.

He's deteriorating.

We're all struggling.

Before this round of illness,
he made sure to bless each of his grandkids.

Note: the above photo was taken two years ago.
But that is how the kids remember him praying for them.
All wrapped up in his arms.

Flair for the dramatic

2011-06-13T21:39:00.003-05:00

"Mom," she asks every night. "Are we going to play baseball again?"

She wants to play baseball every. single. day. She REALLY loves playing baseball with the Miracle League. Each week she comes a little more out of her shell. Admittedly, her shell wasn't all that thick to begin with.

This past Saturday, she chose to stay in her wheelchair for the entirety of the game instead of using her new crutches. She said they pinched her. I didn't want to push. AND, she was able to go SO MUCH FASTER around the bases in her wheelchair.

When her name was called for her first "at bat," she wheeled onto the field, arched her arms above her head, and played to the crowd. She loves a good crowd. And after she "ran" the bases and headed toward home plate, she did some loop-de-loops. When she reached home for her first run, she did a circle around the plate before touching it.

Giggling and loving it the whole time.

Coming in for her second run, she actually stopped about 10 feet from the plate, lined her chair up, and did a wheelie across home plate.

Yes, the crowd loved it.

A lot.

And so did she.

Helping the coach with the lineup.

AT BAT!!
She loves this stuff.

Rounding home plate.

Loop-de-loop on home plate.

Well, I don't mind if I do

2011-06-09T07:15:00.027-05:00

It is hot. Very hot. I don't really do hot. Neither does Esther-Faith. But, we've been spending as much time outdoors in the evening hours when the temperature is a little more bearable.

The other night, Tim fired up the new outdoor fireplace and we made some s'mores. Esther-Faith can't have real chocolate (I know, what a horrible cross she has to bear), so, Tim cut up a leftover white chocolate bunny rabbit and made her some "marshmallow sandwiches."

I, on the other hand, CAN have real chocolate. And boy do I enjoy it.

I had just finished my s'more and Tim wanted a photo.

My perfectly toasted s'more.


Esther-Faith noticed some "extra" marshmallow.

Before I could stop her, she reached into the shot,
and helped herself.


Even though she can't have chocolate, my girl sure loves marshmallows! Especially if they are mine.

Strength

2011-06-08T08:14:00.004-05:00

Summer 2009

Summer 2011

Two people are better off than one,

for they can help each other succeed.

If one person falls,

the other can reach out and help.

But someone who falls alone is in real trouble.

A person standing alone

can be attacked and defeated,

but two can stand back-to-back and conquer.

Three are even better,

for a triple-braided cord is not easily broken.

Ecclesiastes 4:9-10, 12

Photo notes:
There is strength here.
Even as we--in our weaknesses--face our fears.
And fight our demons.
There is strength.

Adventures in child rearing

2011-06-07T18:50:00.001-05:00

On the way out of Esther-Faith's IEP transition meeting this morning, I was downwind of Isaiah. I said, "Dude! Could you just once wear deodorant without me having to remind you?!" To which he replied, "I put it on last night so that I wouldn't have to remember this morning." To which his dad replied, "You sure are asking a lot of that deodorant."

After picking up her new pink crunches, having her wheelchair adjusted, and a crutch holder attached to the back, Esther-Faith decided to give it a try. By "give it a try" I, of course, mean do a couple of wheelies. She did one. Then another. And once she realized she had the full attention of just about everyone in the store, she said to me, "Can I give it one more try?" I didn't have time to reply because she finished the conversation for me. "What's that you say? Why sure I can." Followed by an abrupt, "Thanks, Mama."