Grub and Green

Grub and green?

Ok.  I wanted to put two completely unrelated topics into one post because I'm just crazy (or lazy) like that.


First, the grub.

I didn't start Eve on cereal until she was just over 6 months old.  Some call it smart..some call it child abuse.  Oh well.  She's definitely not underdeveloped, and she's slept 11-13 hours a night since 6 weeks of age, so take that.  She is one crazy eater.  I don't even think 1/4 of the food actually makes it to her belly.  She refuses to be fed.  Sheeee wants to do it.  So independent already.  

This is what happens when you try to take the spoon away.  She scrunches up her face, and it transforms into a weapon.

She'd like you to believe she made a happy bowl.  Oh how she deceives.

Worn out from all that hard work.

I just wanted to share some of this cuteness.  I often forget to share tidbits about her because there are so many "Cade stories" to tell.  She is going to be just as big of a handful as he is.  She is aggressive, she is silly, and she can melt me with her eyes.  I'm in big trouble.

Now for the green.  We live in the country.  Some of the people we know think the subdivisions they live in 2 minutes from Dogwood are considered "country living".  Please.  When I say we live in the country...I mean coun-try.  Anyway, this is going to seem really silly to some of you, but to my neighbors, this is going to be a big deal for them, too.  This year was soybean rotation for the fields around our land.  Can I get a whoop! whoop!?  Know what this means?  No more dry, ugly, brownish yellow corn stalks to look at for months on end.  The corn grown around here is not for human consumption.  It's for animals.  It has to be dry, dry, dry to harvest. It's just gross.  

Here are a few pics of what I get to see when I walk out my door this season.  Oh...and as a bonus, you get to see the really cool storm the blew through yesterday.  The deep blue sky looked ahhhmazing against the fields, and the fluffy white clouds made my camera salivate.

To our left

Straight ahead

To our right

This is the first "non-corn" year since we moved here, so that's why I'm ecstatic.  Plus, being surrounded by corn is kinda creepy.  

Corn=creepy...Soybeans=happy...well, for now anyways.  

Our two nighter at Batson

I'm a little late on this, but I'm sure you'll understand.

Last Tuesday, my sweet baby was admitted to Blair E. Batson with difficulty breathing.  I've never had so much fear concerning the well-being of one of my kids!

I had a few errands to run before our Savannah trip (I'll have to save this ordeal for another day when the mention of this doesn't make me wan't to throw something, puke, or cry), so my granny offered to come and watch the kids at my house that morning.  Eve had a virus the week before, but she had been doing very well for a few days.  No fever.  No runny nose.  Very minimal coughing.  I thought she'd be fine without me for a while, and I definitely felt good about leaving her while Brandon and I got away for a few days.

So, after the tires were balanced and the prescriptions were refilled, I returned home to find a happy toddler and a very fussy baby.  She seemed pretty upset, but I could also tell that she was very tired.  So, I laid her back in her bed to finish out her nap.  After she'd slept an hour or so, I went in to check on her.  I could tell that she was breathing quicker than usual, but she was sleeping well, so I let her finish out her nap.  When she awoke, she was veeeerryy upset and couldn't seem to get her breath.  She was taking extremely short, shallow breaths, and she could only get enough air to make a noise every 20 seconds or so.  I called our doc, and after explaining the situation in full, the nurse told me to come on in.

Well, needless to say, after a couple of tests and an in-office breathing treatment, it was decided that she must be hospitalized.

Soooooo much went on in the hospital, it would take an hour to type it all.  Instead of using that time for typing instead of some much needed cleaning, I'm  just going to give you a rundown of the highlights : )

The first nurse was a neurotic mess.

Allen, the respiratory therapist is an awesome guy.  Definitely made up for the other quacks who tried my nerves.

At one point Eve was on oxygen, had an IV in her foot giving her Rocephin, and had a monitor taped to her foot.  Pi-ti-ful sight.

Doctor Adcock was great!  Highly recommend him.

Brandon and I slept on one of those pullout chairs...at the same time.  Not pretty.

I washed my hair in the in-room shower and after 20 minutes of rinsing, still had enough suds in my hair to make that crunch/bubbly sounds with I touched it.  Worst water pressure ever!

Our fourth nurse was great.  Loved Ashley!

At one point my dad, step mom, mom, brother, son, and sister were in the room while Brandon and I ate and grabbed stuff from home.  I've heard there are lots of stories there.

Our third respiratory therapist was a crazed smoker.  She had 3 asthmatic kids.  Imagine that. (P.S.  The doc is almost certain the smoke on my granny's clothes triggered the sudden lung inflammation.  So, a smoking therapist did not make me happy.)

After 3 prospective release times, we finally blew that joint just before lunch on the third day.

It was a crazy time.  Scary and trying.  I'm so happy to have a pretty healthy, slightly raspy/crackly baby at home now.

Like I said, I'll have to get back to you on the foiled Savannah trip.  It's just too soon.

Impromptu "picanit" on the trace

Ok.  Mental image.  It's Wednesday at 3:15 p.m..  My dishwasher is running and my sink is already full of more dirty dishes.  I've been at home with a sick baby and ca-ray-zy 2 year old for four days.  There are enough Mega Blocks on my living room floor to build an additional room onto our home, and I'm so tired I could just lean up against the wall and fall asleep.  Actually, if I could just stand still for a few minutes, I could probably doze off free-standing in the middle of the room.  On top of that, my sick "mild child gone wild child" thinks it's acceptable to go on a nursing strike.....agghhh!!!

You're getting the picture, right?  One tired, stressed mama.  All I really want to do is set out a bunch of snacks on the table and tell everyone to have at it and crawl into bed.  Instead, I think "Oh!  A picnic sounds nice!"  As crazy as this may sound, it was kind of a perfect idea.  My husband drives home on the Natchez Trace each day, so I got this idea to throw together a picnic and meet him on his way home.  Whew.  I forgot how much work a picnic is!  On top of that, I thought it would be a lovely time of day for some photo ops.  We have only taken one family "portrait" (I use that term very loosely), so I threw the camera and tripod into the heap of necessities, as well.  If you're going to take a family photo, you also have to wear decent clothes.  I start in Eve's dresser, since she's the one I really want to take the most pics of.  I've been slacking a bit : /.  I pulled out an outfit she'd never worn before, and then made my way to Cade's closet to coordinate.  I quickly found a green shirt (what was I thinking?) that went with the dress I'd picked out for her.  After successfully dressing the kids, I moved on to our closet to find something for us to wear.  Crap.  I couldn't find anything kind of neutral to "go" with the kids' clothes, so I just grabbed something and threw it on and tossed a shirt for Brandon onto the "heap".

Five trips to the van later, and we're off to some elusive destination.  On the way, I decide it may be a good idea to alert my husband to the fact that we would be meeting for a picnic.  "Where?"  he asked.  Ummmm....well, that's a good question.  Luckily, I found a nice spot not too far down the trace.  As I carefully maneuver my van onto the grass, I see these ENORMOUS bugs start appearing from all directions.  Seriously.  We were surrounded.  I was getting really worried, but as we drove closer to the water, they thinned out and the nice breeze kept them at bay.

Long story short...we ate mediocre sandwiches and snack foods, struggled, as always, with setting up the tripod to get a decent family shot (we just haven't broken down for a remote yet), and I snapped a few pics of the kids.

I usually don't mess with the color of my photos too terribly much, but since my crazy self put my son in a green shirt and snapped in an almost solid green background, I had to get a little creative.

All in all, it was a pretty pleasant evening.  I still returned to a wrecked home, but at least I didn't have to spend the whole evening in the disaster area.

Imma be livin' that good life

Okay.  This post is going to be a bit of a whirlwind.  Today was our fourth wedding anniversary.  I remembered while I was sitting at the dinner table with my two munchkins.  Some of you think I'm a lame wife...some of you can totally identify.  Ha.   Last year we remembered our anniversary one week later at the dinner table with my folks!  We're not big "date" people.  We forget peoples' birthdays, which we've caught plenty of flack over.  We forget when relatives died.  We forget lots of things.  I'll be the first to admit that my memory totally sucks.  I can barely recall any of my high school happenings....middle school and under are almost a complete wash.  


So, when I was sitting at the dinner table tonight and my 2 and 1/2 year old starts belting out "Imma be, imma be, imma imma imma be", I thought about the rest of that chorus.  Imma be livin' that good life.  I started thinking about my life, and bam!  I remembered my anniversary.  Then came the flood.  The sudden rush of memories and emotions that have made up these four years, and I had to discretely swipe tears so that my boy didn't get worried about his mama.  It's been a crazy journey thus far.  Here's just a sampling....

We've moved three times in these four years.  For some of you that's nothing.  For me, it's been really hard and has been a huge learning experience.  Clinton...Jackson...Pelahatchie.  Who knows where we'll end up next?  We've learned that some landlords like to patch pipes with 2 liter coke bottles and that others don't make good on their renovation promises.  We've learned that we're pretty much destined to have crappy neighbors who chainsmoke in their "smoke-free" rental, listen to Enya at 2 a.m.,  and allow their yappy mutts to gnaw on our legs.


We've learned that Ulcerative Colitis is an ugly disease.  We've learned that all doctors do not have positive intent, and we've learned that some are amazing, brilliant people who are totally into saving lives.  After two trips for me, and three for my husband, we've learned that Cleveland, OH just isn't a place we ever want to see again in this lifetime (love ya Cleveland Clinic...Cleveland snow and residents...not so much).  We've learned that meds can make us do and say bad things, that colonoscopy images are scary, and that ostomies can bring people closer than they ever thought possible.  We've also learned that living with a pseudo colon is a day-by-day learning experience...for all of us.


We've experienced the joy of bringing two babies into the world.  Oh what joy.  I'm going to start bawling right...about...now.  Yep bawling.  Our babies are uhmazing.  They love on us, inspire us, and frustrate us like no other beings can.  We've learned to be better people...better Christ followers because of them.  


We've enjoyed being free of baggage from previous relationships.  We were the firsts.  And anytime things get rough and I'm ready to bail, I remember how we were so perfectly made for one another...how we waited for one another.  


We've met new people and lost touch with people we thought we'd never distance ouselves from.  We've switched to a new church after spending a decade at another.  


We've held a total of at least 10 different jobs in these four years.  We've gone from being a dual-income family which struggled off and on to being a single-income family which budgets like nobody's business and cuts costs left and right.  


We've realized that we don't always get what we want, but we definitely get what we need....which is not always fun. 


We've come to understand that love is not just something you say.  It's a lifestyle.


We've learned it's ok to just "be" every once in a while.


And while writing this post, I've been reminded that I don't want to even imagine what my life would be like without him.


Happy Anniversary