Project 365, Week 3 (II)

January 14, 2009

January 15, 2009

January 16, 2009

Twitter-twotter?

I think I'm what should be known as a twitter-twotter. Sort of like a teeter-totter. Haha.

I have no idea what twitter is, but I just joined because it seems all the rage.

Perhaps you have some insight?

My two cents

Which aren't worth much, I know. What does two cents get you in this world any more?

A lot of advice you didn't need, that's for sure.

This post isn't really about advice. It's more just a place to reflect about that miracle pilot in NYC.

Holy cow! Isn't he, truly, a miracle? He saved lives yesterday. Hundreds of families' lives were forever changed yesterday in a way that I can never fathom, but it's not a tragedy.

I'm willing to bet that when he woke up yesterday morning, he never in his wildest daydreams knew what he would do that day.

"Brace for impact," were his calm words to the passengers of the flight. Had he shown any frantic-ness in his voice, chaos might have ensued in ways that would have caused tragedy. Perhaps chaos ensued anyway, but NO ONE DIED. Every single person who boarded that plane will be (perhaps already are) home with their families.

MIRACLE.

I was just reading an article about ole' Sully.

I'd sure be proud to be his mama. Or his wife. Or his daughter.

Maybe he's got some skeletons in his closet that are overshadowed by his bravery. So be it. The words that I read over and over were humble, hard-working, studious. He began flying at 14 years old. He was a fighter pilot. He's studied the psychology of cockpit crews in emergency situations.

"This is someone who has not just spent his life flying airplanes, but has actually dug very deeply into what makes these things work, and I think he proved it," said Robert Bea, a civil engineer who has known Sullenberger for a year."

His wife said, "This is the Sully I know. I always knew how he would react. So to me this is not something unusual. It's the man I know."

He did not act out of character. His behavior shows his true character. When we're in those moments, don't we all revert to who we are at the core of our beings?

In instances like this, I'm completely reminded that I serve an omnipotent God. One who orchestrates every minute of every single day. God has prepared this man for that job, for those few moments when he was in charge of the over 150 lives. God carefully orchestrated that THOSE people would be on THAT flight, finishing up business meetings, plans for visiting families. This wasn't a happenstance. It was a carefully tuned event with the powerful hand of God in the midst.

As is every moment.

It made me reflect on myself. When I'm in a crisis, how do I react? Does my true character reflect a person who loves the Lord? Who wants to serve others selflessly? Or does my evil, sinful, selfish nature shine glaringly for all to see? What would the passengers have said about ME had I been the pilot? What do my students say about me at the end of the day? What memories do they take with them? What will M remember about me as her mother?

How do I react in the moments that are not crisis, just the regular moments of each day? How do I react in moments of despair? Those moments when the words, "no heartbeat" take my breath away?
How do I react when M runs away from me in Our Favorite Place? Or cries because she wants H instead of me?
How do I react in moments of complete joy?

I can tell you right now that I do not react in a way that is glorifying to the Lord. I would not be described as humble, selfless, loves the Lord.

I have a lot to learn from that humble pilot.

Project 365, venting

File this post under "and other stuff"

Well, I'm not sure I'll be able to get the Project 365 kit. I'm okay with that, really. I was looking forward to using it to showcase all my pictures. But I can live without it. REALLY. I.CAN.LIVE.WITHOUT.THIS.KIT.

So, when we were in the big city Tuesday, we went to my favorite scrapbook store. Did I mention it is my FAVORITE scrapbook store? Well, it is. My most favorite, actually.

And I found a sweet journal with 15o pages in it. The dimensions said 6x9. I thought that would be good. I'd get 300 pages (front and back). It does have a spiral, but I figured I could trim the pictures a smidgen to fit on the pages. I know, I know...I'll have 365 pictures. I thought I could do a few pages with double pictures or make some flaps, etc, etc, etc. Because I'm that good, you know.

Hahaha.

I ASSUMED the pages were blank.

They are not. They are lined.

Okay, okay. I took a deep breath. I can deal with this.

So last night, I spent several hours decorating the cover.

Tonight I was going to decorate a few pages, get them ready for the pictures, etc. So I got out my handy, dandy ruler. Only to find that the measurements are NOT 6x9. More like somewhere around 5.675 by almost 9.

Still not panicking yet.

I turned my ruler around and tried again. Only the numbers don't really make sense when you read them backwards. So I reverted to the correct way to use the ruler and tried a third time.

Still not 6 x 9.

Now I've got myself a real dilemma. I REALLY like this journal. And I've decorated the cover.

I just wish I'd decorated it for another purpose.

I could still use this journal. Even though it has lines and even though it's not quite what I wanted. I did spend $15 on it and I don't want to waste my money. Probably my biggest problem is that I tend to fill my frame with my image so I don't have lots of cropping room to crop my pictures to a smaller size.

I'm not opposed to creating more of an altered book type of project.

It's just not quite how I'd envisioned this playing out, ya know? I thought I'd have this cool little book with blank snow colored pages filled with my pictures and my words.

I could turn it so that it is almost 9 x 5.5ish. Not to play devil's advocate, but my cover doesn't really go with that orientation.

So I've learned a lesson here. An important lesson.

My plan stinks. I jumped in feet first, thinking I had everything under control. I don't have anything under control.

I thought I knew where I was (am) going to take this whole Project 365 thing, but the truth of the matter is I have no idea what each day will unfold.

Just like this empty journal that is not what I thought it was, this year, this project holds so much potential that I can not even fathom. I have no idea what is coming. What will happen. What will fill the pages of this journal.

So, despite that fact that it is not exactly what I wanted, I'm going to go with it. I will use it. I will alter it and allow it to alter me.

I will trust.

Trust the process.

Trust that this will work out.

Trust that I do not have to be in control because the One who controls is more powerful, more wonderful, more extraordinary than I could begin to imagine.

Trust.

Sharing a laugh

I've been blog hopping for a few minutes debating about whether I should share this story or not. It provides a laugh at my sweet girl's expense.

Then I thought, what the heck. One day I'll remind her of this story and we'll both laugh.

Tonight we were on our way home from Our Favorite Place (aka: Barnes and Noble). Suddenly from the back seat, I heard sobbing. Shrieking, even.

I almost drove off the road trying to figure out what in the world was wrong with her.

"My RING, MY RING."

"What ring??? What is WRONG???"

"Mommy," sobbing intensifies, "my fingers broke my ring!!!!" (oh, this is one of the cheapest plastic rings...purple with a little foot on it)

"What???!!!!?????"

Shrieking, sobbing, honest-to-goodness tears, "MOMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY, MY FINGERS BROKE-DED MY RING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I'm still trying to figure this out.

"Honey, stop crying and tell me what in the world is wrong. Do your fingers hurt?" Please note that I am still driving at this point.

"No, my fingers don't hurt. My fingers broke my ring. Here! FIX IT! *exaggerated pause* You CAN'T FIX IT. IT'S TOO BROKEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" sobbing resumes as an escalated level. I'm sure the passing cars are wondering what in the world is going on in the van.

"M, honey. How exactly did your fingers break your ring? And where did you get this ring?"

"My fingers did this. (I think she was putting her fingers together and pulling them apart, but it's PITCH BLACK OUTSIDE AND I COULDN'T SEE HER!) This is my specialist ring from the pizza place. Me and Daddy had to play VERY hard to get it!" SOBBING again. I'm trying not to laugh out loud.

"Let Mommy have the ring." She hands it over. It obviously can not be fixed. "M, I don't think we can fix this ring. But we'll ask Daddy to take us to the pizza place and you guys can get another one." Uh, oh...major mistake. She doesn't WANT another one.

No lie. This is what my kid said.

"MOMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!! I don't think I can have another one. What if my fingers breaks another one????????????????????????????????????" I'm surprised her dress wasn't soaked at this point from all the tears.

"Here. Why don't you try to fix this one?" I should have just exited the vehicle at this point.

"AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can't fix it. I AM NOT A GOOD FIXER."

I'm not sure what was louder. Her sobs or my laughter.

All I could say was, "Oh."

So we have a date tomorrow for the pizza place where M and her daddy can play very hard to get another cheap plastic ring. When I called H to share this story, he laughed as hard as I did.

Then we both decided that this is what you get when you have an exhausted three year old who hasn't had a nap in at least 3 days.

Two down, none to go

Right now I am listening to thumping on my roof. And an air compressor. There is also some sort of sand papery sound.

We're getting a new roof.

Just wanted you to know what I came home to today, after the second trip to the big city in 24 hours.

There are virtually no pediatric specialists in this town, so we have two choices. We can hope one makes a trip down once a month or so and try to get an appointment at the children's health clinic. Or we can drive to the big city to see the specialists we need to see.

I feel sorry for parents with significantly health-impaired children. Luckily, M only has two specialists--a urologist and a orthopedist.

We're VERY lucky that her orthopedist comes to our town once a month and sees children in a very nice doctor's office. Not the children's health clinic. We've gone that route before. Not fun.
It's unfortunate that the times she's needed to see him just prior to the surgery and post-operative did not coincide with his trips south, so we had to drive to the big city. Not a big deal. We really, really like him.

We did not so much like the urologist. In fact, we didn't like him at all. I don't think I've ever been in a doctor's office where I was treated so poorly. He interrupted me, smirked at my questions. When I asked if she would have another VCUG, he said, "Oh, she WILL have another VCUG." I was tired of being condescended, so I said, "Well, WHEN she has her next VCUG, I want her sedated." His response? "I'll conceded to that." As if we were in a battle of M's health care!!! He was aggravated because she couldn't produce a urine sample--I won't get in to the details on that one. She COULD have given a urine sample of the receptionist had been on top of things and realized what was going on. His nurses were nice, thank goodness. But not nice enough to make getting on the road at 7:00 am in the dark worth it.

My friend encouraged me to call our ped to let him know. I thought about just waiting until I saw him again, but decided this morning to go ahead and call. M and I were shopping in the big city when he called us back. I usually deal with his nurse, who I like a lot, so I was surprised when he actually called me back himself. I felt vindicated when I told him about the appointment. I told him that I didn't really mind if that was M's urologist because we don't have to see him that often. The ped assured me that he would refer us to someone else. He said, "You should never go to a doctor and feel that way." I love our pediatrician.

So our trip to the big city yesterday resulted in lots of frustration and hurt feelings and feelings of helplessness. Some retail therapy helped alleviate those feelings.

Our trip to the big city today netted much better results. (Oh, the thumping on the roof just got louder. They must be directly above me now. Only one of them speaks English, so when I offered our bathroom, there was lots of confusion!!!!) M is cast-free. She was all smiles and giggles for the orthopedist today. He did not roll his eyes at me once or smirk at my questions. M even tried to take a few steps for him. There was lots of hugging and tickling between patient and doctor. When he left, he looked at me and said, "This is why I love pediatrics."

And that's why we love him.

Thankfully we're done with scheduled doctor's appointments for a while.

Two down, none to go.

My Best Shot

Sneaking a bite of H's birthday cake icing!

For other delicious MBS, check out Tracey's place!