Hallelujah!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

After an already chaotic morning, (Sundays are ALWAYS chaos no matter how well we try and plan ahead), we got a phone call as we were leaving church informing us that we had gotten an offer on our house! First emotion was pure excitement but then the reality of the offer not being exactly what we hoped for started creeping in. Alex spent the afternoon crunching numbers with our realtor. After a few hours we submitted a counter-offer to our potential buyers and within just another few hours they accepted! AAAHHHHHHH!

It's still so surreal knowing that we are actually going to sell our house and that we are actually going to move into the house we have so patiently waited for during the past several months.

I'll try and post pictures of the new house soon.

P.S. Cale's MRI went AMAZING! He did GREAT and it was ten thousand times better than I thought it was going to be. We should be getting a call from his doctor today so if I hear anything I will make sure and update as soon as possible!

MRI Day!

Tomorrow morning we will check into the hospital at 6:15 am.  Yuck.  Cale is scheduled to have an MRI done on his brain, along with some blood work testing and a muscle biopsy.  Double Yuck.  

Cale had an MRI when he was about six months old and during our most recent visit to Seattle Children's Hospital, the neurologist suggested that we do another one since he's now three and a half years old.  The first MRI came back "within normal limits", meaning 'I have no idea what that means'.  The radiologist that read the results noticed some abnormalities but all of them were "within normal limits".  I suppose my brain or your brain could also have some abnormalities but since not every person gets an MRI, we would never know.  That's how I choose to look at it anyway.  

I'm not necessarily nervous about or worried that they will find something different from the original results, but I am nervous about Cale being under anesthesia.  He's been under it before - three times to be exact - and has done fine every time, but there's just something about watching your baby drift off to never-never-land that leaves me feeling uneasy.  I'm also wondering about the muscle biopsy.  It was explained to me in terms like "they will take a chunk of muscle out of his leg and then sew him back up".  What exactly does that mean?  Will he be in pain or in some sort of recovery period for a lengthy amount of time?  Oh well, I'm sure everything will be fine.  No good will come from worrying about it.  

I hate that we have to do this.  I hate that Cale has to go through this.  However, the pre-surgery nurse did say that when he wakes up tomorrow he will most likely be looking for his mom.  I will definitely be looking forward to that! :)

I will update how things went, as well as the results, as soon as I can.  

Prayer for complete healing questioned?

This post may be a little heavy and so I'll start out with something light.  I saw an advertisement informing me that Dairy Queen is celebrating a birthday and so they're offering a "buy one Blizzard and get the second one for $.25".  I'll definitely be partaking in that tonight!

I was driving down the street today, on my way to Starbucks to grab my usual Americano, when a thought hit me so hard I felt as though I had run into something.

My husband and I pray, DAILY, for complete healing in Cale.  I go through seasons when I'm angry with God for not answering my prayer, but on the contrary I also go through seasons when I'm filled with so much patience, and faith, that I'm content in waiting for the day WHEN He DOES answer my prayer.  Right now, on this very day, I'm somewhere in the middle.

I'm angry that I, one of billions of people in this world, was given a child with a disability.  People have babies every day, healthy babies.  Why me?  A selfish but honest question.  When someone says to me, "God chose you to be Cale's mom because He knew you were the best person for the job" only ignites my anger.  Should I feel special or feel like I won some sort of an award?  On the contrary, I'm also content knowing that Cale will most likely never be completely healed.  I'm not saying that God is incapable of performing miracles but I've had long enough to think about the fact that there is a bigger purpose - a purpose that may never be revealed - behind why Cale is my son and I am his mom.  I'm okay with that and I sometimes even feel special that I get to be apart of one of God's purposes.

Going back to the thought that hit me so hard while on my way to Starbucks.  My prayer for complete healing in Cale might leave God feeling puzzled.  He may be up in Heaven, looking down on me, wondering what on earth I'm asking of Him.  He's confused because He doesn't view Cale as being sick.  In His eyes Cale is not "disabled".  Cale is perfectly healthy and it's me, and this world, that labels him as being different.  So I'm left wondering what my prayer for Cale's life should be.  I don't think there's anything wrong with asking for healing because I assure you that if I or someone in my family were to get sick, I would be the first one begging God for a cure.  For whatever reason, though, I feel like I should be praying something different for Cale.  I don't know what that is yet because this journey of raising him and being his mom changes on a daily basis, but I'm sure God will let me know what it is He wants, whether it's through a dream or while on a drive to Starbucks.

He certainly has interesting and unique ways of communicating to us.

Bedtime Stories

First off I would just like to say a little something about my previous post.  Someone, somewhere, must have said a prayer for me because ever since I wrote it I have felt absolutely marvelous!  I've had several moments with my husband and kids over the past couple of days that make me just sit back and smile, feeling so incredibly thankful for the life God has given me.  So if someone is reading this that prayed for me, I'd just like to personally thank you.  God does answer prayers.

Okay, so while I was in Seattle with Cale for his doctors appointments and Alex was back home with Riley, they developed an adorable bedtime routine that has slowly, but forcefully, leaked over into our whole family's bedtime routine.  While away, Alex and Riley would get into their pajamas, fill a cup of milk for Riley, and then head upstairs to our bedroom with a handful of books.  They climbed into our bed, got under all the covers and read book after book, after book.  This is slightly different from the routine we had before because we would still get into our pajamas and still drink a cup of milk, but we would stay downstairs and read books on the couch.  We still try and do that but Riley throws one of her inevitable tantrums and says, "bed, Bed, BED" until we get the hint and lug both kids, plus ten or more books up the stairs and jump into our bed, get under all the covers, and read until all our eyes are heavy.  I have a feeling that this routine won't die out any time soon and I must say, I'm rather taken with it.

Laying in bed with my whole family and seeing the joy the kids get out of being able to be in "Mommy's" and "Daddy's" bed is just enough to make a momma want to cry.  I love these moments, and when all the books have been read and Alex and I each take a kid to their bedroom, we meet back in our bed and smile, so grateful for the two amazing children God has gifted to us.

I'm glad our evenings, like the ones I describe above, have been ending well because it's a sure bet that the morning won't involve that much joy.  Riley has taken to 'hating' putting on clothes.  She will cry and cry and cry until I finally cave in and let her run around naked.  Anybody else out there dealing with a toddler that loathes clothes?

Not even sure where to begin

I think the stress of trying to sell our home on a timeline, the demand to keep it sparkling clean, taking care of two very moment-to-moment earthly children 24/7, (who by the way do not understand my need to keep things clean), and watching Cale deal with the CRAP that was so unfairly given to him and me not being able to help in any way, shape or form, is making me lose my mind.  Literally.

 I have trouble focusing on little things, such as driving.  My mind wanders to far away places and then all of a sudden I find myself pulling into our driveway without a memory of how I got there.  Scary?  Extremely.  My desire to cook a nice and healthy meal for my family is hiding somewhere, probably in one of the boxes that we packed away into storage.  Hopefully it returns when, and if, we settle down in our new home.  Exercising - my main go-to for stress release and a cure-all for any bad attitude - has been far down on the list of things to do.  I'm tired all the time.  I go to bed AS SOON AS we put the kids down, which is usually somewhere between 9:00 and 9:30 and sometimes I don't get out of bed until 8:30 or 9:00, which is drastically different from my 4:45 alarm to get out of bed and get my butt to the gym.  Even when I lay down to go to sleep, exhausted, I find myself laying there for at least two, maybe three hours, before I finally fall asleep.  My mind is captive to what I need to be doing, what I could be doing better, and all of the worries and concerns I have about raising my kids.  Even after sleeping nearly ten hours, I normally try and take a nap when the kids take a nap.

 I find myself highly emotional, crying far more than I ever have over circumstances that may or may not warrant tears.  Our home life is like walking on thin ice.  I feel an overwhelming need to please my husband but ever since my attitude has shifted, that need to please has turned into resentment. I'm not sure if our attitude is effecting the kids' attitudes or if it's the other way around, but some nights it takes everything in us to just get through it and make it to bedtime.  Survival is key right now.

I'm sure this post has made it seem as though I truly have lost my mind or that it may lead to assumptions that somehow my marriage is on the rocks.  There may be a little truth to me losing my mind but thankfully my marriage is strong.  Alex, though at times makes me want to pull out every last strand of my hair, is the best man in the world.  I love him more than anything and thankfully he loves me back just the same.  I'm trying to decide if this is just a season of life, having little kids, that makes a mom feel like she has no identity other than "mom".  Is it worth it to get "dressed up" for an errand to Target or to a play group with friends, just to come home and take it off and put on my sweatpants - what I wished I could have been wearing the whole time?  I walk by the shoe section of stores and dream about buying those three-inch, must-have, high heels.  But then the reminder that I would have absolutely no where to wear them to creeps into my mind and puts a small frown on my face.  Is this just a season of life?

Without a doubt, I experienced some level of post-partum depression after giving birth to Cale.  Those were very traumatic and different experiences from what I'm dealing with now, but I wonder if a small amount of depression is present in my life?  Or is what I'm feeling normal to every other stay-at-home mom out there?

I've definitely put myself out there in this post and perhaps I should have kept it secret in a journal, but there's something freeing about being truthful about who you are and what you're feeling to other people. I've tried hiding my emotions and even tried pretending as though they weren't there, and that leads to no good.  I'm sure of that.

I go through times of desperate prayer, basically giving God an ultimatum, which I always realize is silly and I picture Him up in Heaven, looking down at me, and laughing.  I go through very dry prayer which is basically giving God the two minutes I have before I fall fast asleep, and then there is the kind of prayer that makes me certain that when I wake up in the morning and go into Cale's bedroom to wake him up, I'll miraculously find him playing in his room and when he realizes I've opened his door, he'll look at me and say, "Geez, Mom!  What took you so long?"  And then he'll run out his door and down the stairs, grab a big box of Lucky Charms out of the pantry, swinging the refrigerator door open and lugging the gallon of milk up on the table, spilling it everywhere as he tries to get it in the bowl, and then chowing down at the breakfast table.  For whatever reason, I'm never disappointed when I wake up and realize that my prayer has not been answered.  I simply view it as "not yet".

God is capable of anything, therefore I know He is capable of changing my attitude.  Positive energy - that's what I need.  Here's to waiting...

Fishing!

Thanks to me, my wonderful husband is on a guided fly fishing trip down the Bitterroot River as we speak.  He was so deserving of something like this and so earlier this week I called my father-in-law and begged him to take my husband away for a day.  Turns out it didn't require much begging and he called me the next day and told me what he had planned for the two of them.  Alex isn't much of a fisherman but he's never fly fished before and so I think he may come home hooked.  No pun intended. :)  

I sadly don't think I give my husband enough credit most of the time.  I'm incredibly thankful for him and I think I have a pretty realistic grasp on all that he does for our family, but I know for a fact that my attitude and my words don't always reflect that.  He's one of the most hard working individuals I know and even if his boss tells him he can have a day off, to me I know that means he might be home ten minutes earlier than normal.  He works incredibly hard and holds himself to such a high standard.  After putting in a full day at work, he willingly chooses to shake off whatever stresses he has at work and leaves them at the office, allowing him to just be a husband and a father, rather than a husband and a father who is consumed with whatever happened at work earlier in the day.  He immediately helps me with the kids, is interested in what happened in my day, and the phrase, "what can I do to help you around the house" is even muttered a couple times a week.  He truly is selfless and more than I could have ever hoped for in a husband and a father to my kids.

With that said, work has been extraordinarily stressful this year.  Our home life has been up and down with the kids being sick, us being sick, and the emotional tiredness we both experience every day with Cale, and the stress of trying to buy and sell a house.  It takes a great amount of effort on both of our parts to see the glass half full most of the time.  Alex, in my opinion, is the glue that holds all of us sanely together. :)  

So I sent him fishing.  It's only a day trip and I know that it's not going to take away anything that awaits him at home and work, but he deserves a day away from me and the kids.  Plus, he's with his dad and if you've never had the pleasure of meeting Rick Burkhalter, he's a true gem and someone who can definitely bring life to a party.  I'm sure they're having a blast and I can't wait to hear all about it when he gets home. 

Blessings and tears should not coexist

Yesterday, after months and months and months and months, AND MONTHS, of trying to get Cale approved for Medicaid under some special government waiver, we finally got the news that Cale officially is on Medicaid as of 03/01/2010.  PRAISE GOD!  Not only does this lift a GIGANTIC financial burden off of our already financially stressed lives, but it opens up hundreds of doors for the type of care Cale can receive that he couldn't receive before because of money.  The sky is the limit and I cannot wait to see how God uses this new "money" to help Cale reach his upmost potential.  An answer to prayer - AMEN!  I feel like nothing can stop our little man now.  Watch out world!  Here comes Cale!

This is obviously a huge blessing and yesterday when the Medicaid "committee" left our home I had to hold myself back from hugging each and every one of them, and when they finally closed our door behind them I burst into tears and buried my head into my husband's shoulder.  Tears of joy and amazement came flowing.

But now, 24 hours later, I find myself in a heap of sadness.  I HATE that Cale has to be under some governmental program because he's disabled.  I'm so sad for him and I feel terribly guilty because I'm even sad for myself.  The dream I had for this life is nothing like I had imagined it.  I would love to fill our house with more kids (okay, maybe just one more), but that just seems impossible with the kind of demands and time just one child takes.  Giving Cale the best is certainly not adding another brother or sister to his life that takes the time away from us that he desperately needs.  I hate watching how easy everything is for Riley.  Living is seemingly effortless for her and it takes Cale's best focus and determination to try and go up and down a slide on his own.  Kids run circles around him and it breaks my heart to see the disappointment in himself.  I just hate all of this, plain and simple.

 But I do love my Cale.  I'm surprised my heart can hold this much love.