WELL THAT CAN'T BE RIGHT...AND DID YOU JUST HANG UP ON ME?

It was thirteen years ago today.

I had gone to bed the night before at my regular time. I remember I had been really tired that night so my husband and I just hung out in our bedroom with our four-year old little boy, Parker. We watched TV and Parker busied himself with his Lincoln Log set, carefully constructing a beautiful little log home.

Just a month before we had moved back to my hometown and I had been busy getting our home in order...and preparing for baby number two.

I was 31 weeks and 5 days pregnant.

Eventually we tucked Parker into bed for the night, let the dog out one more time, and settled in for a well-deserved night's sleep.

At 4 am I woke up having to use the bathroom and feeling disgusted that I didn't make it in time.

Shoot.

I must have been sleeping really hard not to have woken up in time to go the bathroom!

A quick trip into the closet to change after using the bathroom, but then it happened again.

What the what?

Back into the bathroom.

By this time I was awake enough and aware enough to know that something wasn't right.

Oh...my...gosh...I think my water just broke!!!!

I remember trying to get myself calm and relaxed before calling for my husband who was gently snoring and hadn't been aware of my rusting about.

Okay...here goes...nice and calm...nice and calm...

"Scott."

Nothin'.

"Scott."

Rusting sounds coming from the bedroom.

"What?"

"Um...can you come here real quick, please?"

"Where are you?"

"In the bathroom. Be careful...don't step on Parker's Lincoln Log house.

More rustling.

Then my groggy husband appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, not exactly happy that I woke him up.

"What."

"Um...I think my water just broke."

Then as matter-of-factly and un-phased as can be, he said...

"Nope. That can't be. It's too soon."

Ya THINK?

"Well...whether it's too soon or not, something is leaking that shouldn't be leaking. I think we need to call my doctor's office."

After scrambling for the phone and the number we made the call. I was told I needed to go to the hospital. No...not first thing in the morning...NOW!

Oh, dear.

So we made the next call to my parents, who lived just a few miles away.

It was 4:40 am and my dad answered.

Again...trying to sound calm and relaxed, I said...

"Hi, dad. Sorry to call so early in the morning, but I think my water just broke."

The next part of the story makes me laugh...every.time...because my dad said...

"WHAT???  YOUR WATER BROKE????? HERE...TALK TO YOUR MOTHER!!!!!"

Then he inadvertently hung up on me.

I called back and mom answered this time. She would be right over to stay with Parker.

It seemed like she showed up at the door before I could even hang up the phone.

The hospital was at least 45 minutes away and Scott was tired...and I was quite nervous...as we made our way to the unexpected.

I honestly thought that when we got there they would give me something to...well...I don't know....plug the leak...and we'd be home in time to make Parker his breakfast.

Nope.

Turns out my water did not break, but my membranes had ruptured and the amniotic fluid was slowly leaking out. I needed to be on bed rest until I reached 34 weeks and then they would induce me...unless I went into full labor before that. I was going to be admitted to the hospital for the next two weeks and two days.

"Um...but why can't I be on bed rest at home?"

The answer was obvious...but I still had to ask in hopes I would get my way...

"Jeanine...you have a four-year old...and...we know you. You need to be in the hospital."

Fine.

So in the matter of a few hours our life felt like it was turned upside down.

I wanted to be at home with my little boy.

My husband had just started back to school for his Master's Degree...and within days of me being admitted and him caring for Parker...and working...and coming to the hospital every day...he quickly realized that a Master's Degree wasn't a priority at the time.

My mom became Parker's second care-giver during this time. While Scott both commuted to work and tried to work from home as much as possible...my mom took Parker to preschool, swimming lessons, took care of the house, did laundry (not to Scott's liking...so he and I had a "suck-it-up-buttercup" type of "discussion" about that), cooked meals, etc.

Meanwhile...I just propped myself at the suggested 45 degree angle in my hospital bed and got up to take a quick shower or use the bathroom. I watched boring daytime TV, napped, and experienced a baby who moved, and rolled, and kicked like I never thought possible. The movement of this little one could be compared to what happens to your stomach when you ride a roller coaster.

Every evening either my mom (if Scott was coming directly from work) or Scott (if he worked from home) would bring Parker to the hospital and then he, Scott and I would spend time together as our little family of three...waiting for this energetic and sooner-than-later little one to make us a family of four.

The baby's heartbeat needed to be monitored at least twice a day so we always saved one of those times for Parker. He would crawl into the bed, snuggle up next to me, and push the button for the nurse. When the nurse answered and asked what I needed, Parker would respond, "I want to hear my baby hearting now, please."

During the times I was alone in the room during the day while everyone was busy doing their own things, I would sometimes cry. I didn't like this at.all. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be with my little boy.

But I also wanted this baby to be healthy and ready for the world. It was my job to do everything I could to make sure I followed orders and did all I could for this energetic little one.

Eventually...those two weeks and two days came to an end and we reached the 34 week date. I was induced, bringing into the world an absolutely beautiful five pound, six ounce little girl named, Faith Marie. She was so tiny and perfect and she had these little rosebud lips and pink skin and we instantly fell in love with her.

There's definitely more to this story...but for now, let's just leave it at the JOY of that day.

In the midst of what seems like the hardest of things...God is creating a beautiful, JOY-filled story. He's disguising challenges as blessings.

He's working miracles.


Wishing you JOY in the JOurneY.

peace.
jeanine

NO IDEA

Yesterday was unusual.

I was cranky. Not just a little cranky, either. I was full-fledged cranky.

Now, keep in mind, this is unusual and even my full-fledged cranky was something that no one in my house really knew about, except my husband, who could tell I wasn't myself.

The strange thing is...

I had absolutely NO IDEA why I was cranky!

I just was.

By the end of the day I had decided that my crankiness was most likely from being tired after a busy and fun-filled holiday weekend. I was exhausted from the social aspect of the past few days. I like people. I like gatherings. I like conversations (conversations...not small talk). I like events. I like my new job.

But I like quiet.

I like quiet A LOT!

And all the social, people, gatherings, conversation, events, work, etc., was more than my peace and quiet-wired self could handle.

And by dinner time I was cranky.

By the time I went to bed, I was not.

Between dinner time and bed time I had been given the opportunity for quiet. For a little bit of solitude. For time with my family...JUST my family. We experienced some summer storms during the late afternoon and evening...and I enjoy mild summer storms (although some were more than mild...so if you were hit by one of them, I'm sorry and I hope your power comes back on soon).

By late evening, it was all good. I felt better. More me...less this other cranky person who looked like me.

The JOurneY doesn't always bring JOY.

It's not suppose to.

The JOurneY is supposed to go on, regardless of what's happening in life...big, small, good, bad, or indifferent.

JOY comes from the heart.

JOY comes from the soul.

It's in knowing it's there...even when you don't feel it...and never losing sight of it.

Sometimes JOY just happens.

Sometimes JOY takes work.

Always JOY can be found.


Wishing you JOY in the JOurneY.

THERE'S A NAP FOR THAT

Do you know what I did on this beautiful Sunday after we got home from church and going out for lunch?

I curled up on the couch with my favorite blanket and one of our dogs snuggled up next to me and I took a big ol' nap, that's what I did!

And it...felt...good!

CELEBRATING DADS

Yesterday was Father's Day.

Obviously the kids and I were going to celebrate my husband, their dad. He's an awesome guy to celebrate!

We had an agenda for the day, part planned by the kids and me and part planned by my husband.

It was looking to be a great day.

But there was a glitch early on that caught our family completely off-guard.

Unexpected. Disappointing. Uncalled for. Completely embarrassing. Incredibly immature.

It could have ruined the whole day, specifically so for my husband.

But guess what?

It didn't.

Despite the fact that it upset our family, especially our son who was a witness to the incident and not happy about it at.all, we decided to chalk it up to, "Some things never change", and moved on with our day.

And you know what?

It was a GREAT DAY!

Church, lunch at one of our favorite restaurants, shopping for the new desk chair my husband had requested for Father's Day, and then an invite to spend the afternoon at my brother and sister-in-law's house with their daughter, son-in-law, grandson, and my parents. We visited. We spent the afternoon swimming in the pool. We had a BBQ.

It was super fun. And when we got home we were tired.

Sometimes life throws you glitches.

Most often they hurt the one who threw them more than they hurt you. Best thing to do is get up, brush it off, and move on with the day.

Which is what we did. And because we did...we got to celebrate some great dads on Father's Day.

Wishing you JOY in the JOurneY.

This Parenting Thing

Parenting.

Amazing. Exhausting. Thrilling. Scary. Frustrating. Joyful. Happy. Sad. Bliss. Patience. Love.

Just a few of the ways one might describe this journey of parenthood.

I will say that in describing my life as a mom I would use about 90% positive adjectives and only about 10% negative.

I try not to sweat the small stuff.

Key word there is “try”.

There are some things, though, that no matter how hard you try to keep it together, it’s just nearly impossible.

In my seventeen and a half years as a parent, there are certain things that I just wish someone else would teach, or would have taught, my kids.

One is potty training. Seriously. If I could have sent them off for a week of potty-training camp I think I would have. Those people that tell me they potty-trained their kid in a day?  Liars, liars, pants on fire!

Both of my children were simply content to pee and poop at their leisure. Any time. Any place.

The pediatrician finally told me to let it go. Stop fighting the battle because it was one I was going to lose. He said the more I pushed, the more they would fight it. He was right.

The other thing I thought was excruciatingly difficult was teaching them to ride a bike. Seriously...SO EASY you guys! Yes...because when was their age, someone patiently taught me to ride a bike. I needed that patient person to teach my kids because it certainly wasn’t me.

Of course, after much practice they eventually figured it out. I mean there was that one time my oldest was still a little wobbly while riding down the sidewalk on his new bike and Grandma wasn’t quick enough to get out of the way and, well...let’s just say Grandma got run over by a bicycle. Don’t worry...she’s fine.

But now we’re at driving age. Past driving age, actually. Could have had his license a year and a half ago. But he wasn’t interested. Didn’t really have a desire to drive. This boggles my mind. I mean when I was sixteen I could.not.wait to drive! The first weekend I had my license my friend and I drove to the nearest mall to go shopping!

But nope. No desire to drive.

And then one day it changed to, “I want to drive right now!”

Well...dude...it doesn’t work like that. You have your permit, yes, but you still need to get all your driving hours in, you need to complete behind the wheel. You have work to do here.

So we drive.

Well, let me rephrase that…

He drives. I pray.

Sometimes I pray harder than other times.

Like yesterday, for instance. I thought I was going to be talking to St. Peter himself as he welcomed me into the pearly gates where I would find myself basking in the loving presence of Jesus.

(Okay...maybe I'm exaggerating a little here. But just a little.)

And then a few seconds later, using all the restraint I had not to completely lose it, I said,

“Pull. Over.”

Then I told him to get out and briefly considered telling him to walk the next few miles home. But I didn’t. Because, you know...grace, love, teachable moment...blah, blah, blah.

Without a word we both got out and switched seats.

And then I let loose with a lecture that left no room for discussion.

No.room.

I had the dance floor and he knew not to upstage my moves.

We got home and he went straight upstairs. My husband asked if everything was okay and I told him about my near journey to heaven.

He laughed. Of course he did. He didn't almost meet Jesus.

A little while later I went up to my son’s room and asked him if we were okay.

He said we were. Then I told him I loved him. He reciprocated.

We’re good. But I think...hope...the next time we drive we won’t be switching seats.

Now, onto my next task of convincing the 12-year old that cleaning the bathroom is NOT disgusting!

Wishing you JOY in the JOurneY.

*posted with permission from my oldest*

Beginning Again

It's been a long while since I've sat down to write for the sheer purpose of finding joy in writing. I used to do this on a near daily basis. But then I got busy.

Not really.

Honestly, I simply didn't take the time. Maybe I thought I didn't have much to say any longer.

But that's not true, either, because while I'm driving alone in my car I am con.stant.ly writing in my head.

Lately, the urge to sit down to write for the simple joy of writing has been nagging at me like a pesky housefly. Bzzzz, bzzzz, bzzzz.

Someone told me once that to be a "writer" one needs to write every day. This person also told me to write for me...not for anyone else. If someone else reads it, well...good for them and bonus for me.

So I'll begin...again. I'll start attempting to fulfil my desire to write about discovering the joy in the journey...because we all know that some days the joy is hard to find. But it's there...if we look hard enough, and believe strong enough in it. It's there.

It's there.