Makin' Memories

Today my in-laws leave us and head to Florida to spend time with their son in West Palm Beach. I'm a little sad, because even though I know they'll be back to see us before they head back to Honduras, I'm really going to miss them. They are a sweet couple who wonder about my sanity on a regular basis but they love me in spite of my kookiness. My father-in-law has gotten a good laugh out of giving me some Honduran slang to use on my husband. I may actually get myself in real trouble one of these days! With their time here rapidly winding down, this past weekend we took a couple day trips to show them a little more of the country. Saturday we went to Hershey Chocolate World. A great time was had by all! What more can you want? Family time and chocolate!

Our children enjoyed posing with the Hershey Bar. 

My in-laws had a great time on the factory tour! 

And of course the singing cow sisters were a hit! 

I love the change of the seasons, but fall is always very bittersweet for me. I hate winter more than any other season, and fall's job is to get the earth ready for winter. But, I do love the beauty of the landscape, and we took the opportunity to show my in-laws how beautiful Lancaster County can get on the way back from Hershey! 

Then on Sunday we took a ride on the Wilmington & Western Railroad with some good friends. We all had a wonderful time watching the scenery from the windows of a coach pulled by an old diesel engine. We reached Mt Cuba after about 20 minutes on the train, and had a picnic lunch at the lovely picnic ground the railroad maintains for the tourists that ride the rails. The next few pictures are a sample of the views we enjoyed on our little trip. 

We enjoyed a very nice picnic lunch at Mt Cuba. 

A beautiful covered bridge scene that seemed right out of a painting! 

This old house tugged at my imagination as I thought of the families that may have lived there when the train made its daily runs so many years ago. I could almost see the children who once lived there standing on the hill side waving at the engineer as the train steamed past. 

When we arrived back at the station, we took the time to snap some family pictures. The ones I will share with you here, are the ones that show the fun loving side of us! We were trying to get a mommy and daddy only picture when the little guy sauntered up and squeezed himself in between us like he belonged there. It made for lots of laughs and a cute memory. 

Our goofy children are hard to get a "nice" picture of. No matter how hard I try, their personalities always show through! I am told that's how it's supposed to be, but just once I'd like a "nice, normal" family picture! I may as well give up on that notion though, because we just aren't normal! 

This last picture pulls at my heart. It's the first picture of its kind taken of Martin's parents. When I showed them this photo, my mother-in-law smiled and smiled. Then asked if I'd be able to give her a copy. I was only too happy to say "But, of course!"

Finding Hope

My last post made me cry and I don't like crying, so I wanted to write about laughter this time around. But the truth is, laughter is a rare commodity in my life right now. I decided about six months after the accident that it would not define who we are as a family. The brain injury that had changed everything for all of us, would not change us... Well, that is laughable. You don't go through an experience like that and not have it change you. It changed me in ways that were good and bad. An example of a good change, I am now much more sympathetic to people with chronic pain and depression. An example of a bad change, is that I cannot get on a Ferris wheel or a roller coaster anymore. The last time I was on a Ferris wheel, I recited the 23rd Psalm and the Lord's Prayer continuously to keep the panic at bay. I blamed it on getting older, but the truth is, all I saw was our broken bodies on the ground as the ride for some unknown reason fell apart. It isn't logical. I'm not the one that had the injury, but that's one way I have changed. I didn't want to, but I changed. I get angry at the changes and decide I'm not going to let them define me, but I'm still not getting on that Ferris wheel again!

I love to laugh. I miss laughing so hard that I have tears rolling down my cheeks and sounding like I need a breathing treatment. I miss the jokes my husband used to play on me. Recently, though he's started again, and I love it. My last post was a bit depressing as I went back and read it, but it needed said. This time, I want to point out that healing is still happening. It's excruciatingly slow. We measure the healing by months now. Not days or even weeks. I look at what was happening six months or a year ago and can see a difference. It might be something very small, but I grasp any evidence of healing with both hands and hold on tight. I know that things will  never go back to the way they were, but with God's help and a lot of faith and prayer, we may even be able to make our dream to serve street kids in Honduras a reality. The last few weeks just thinking about the future scared me to death and sent me into a panic attack. Yesterday in church, we heard about how Jesus called Peter to get out of the boat and walk on the water. We heard how Peter forgot to keep his eyes off the waves and on Jesus and started to sink. And how Jesus lifted him up out of the water, and together they climbed back into the boat. That's pretty basic. There was actually more said than that, but this particular sermon helped me realize that I had taken my eyes off Jesus. I was watching the waves instead. Yesterday, I remembered to look to Him again, and for the first time in awhile, I felt something that felt a lot like hope. I don't know what the future holds, but I know that He's got this. 

Keep Going...

I have a lot on my mind tonight and I'm finding it hard to sleep so I'm sharing on the internet. Probably not smart, but here I go... My husband's struggle with his brain injury over the past 3 and a half years has been hard for all of us, but it has almost done me in to see how he struggles from day to day. I had to sit and listen to a letter today from a professional who should have known better, saying things like "you'd think by now there would have been some improvement" almost as though we are making things up. These moments are the moments when I want to curl up and cry. This person has no idea of the anguish we have been through and only knows what they see in the files. The day in, day out pain and knowing there really are no more options. The medications have been ineffective at best. And causing more damage at worst. We have been referred once again to a head ache clinic but really, what can they do that hasn't been done? I know God has never left us down but at this low point, I wonder, is this what's left for us? The constant struggle to feel "normal"? Whatever normal is. He "looks fine". I look fine. But we aren't. He's in constant pain and I'm trying to hold it all together for one more day. I'm not trying to complain. I know there are people out there worse off than I. Women who had to say goodbye to their men on that hospital bed. I know I'm fortunate and blessed, but every so often I need to cry for what we've lost. For the loss of that daddy and husband who didn't come home that rainy Monday, May 7, 2012. For the loss of our "normal" life. And for the loss of our children's innocence because what always "happens to somebody else" had suddenly happened to us. Now they know it can and they're afraid it will again. I cry because it's all I can do. Then I pull myself together, dry my tears, pray for the strength I need to get through one more day. And He always comes through. Nothing has changed. But we can keep going. That's all that matters.

The Unexpected

Apparently my heavenly Father decided I needed another lesson in taking things as they come this week. Sunday night, a tooth that has been bothering me off and on blew into a tooth ache that made me wish I had never been born, and turned me into a crying baby girl who just had her chocolate stolen out of her hand. I counted my breaths as I reclined on my bed, then when I lost count, I counted the beats in the music that was playing from my cell phone beside me. Not even my favorite worship song could get my mind off the pain, so I started reading. I have no idea what the book was about. I do remember the writing of it was almost painful to read in itself, so it didn't last long. My dear husband was beside himself, as he does not remember me being in quite so much pain since childbirth, and I handled that a tiny bit better than I was handling this. Finally after 2 prescription  pain pills, some numbing gel, and pure exhaustion, I was able to sleep. I had a dentist appointment at noon Monday.  I was still in pain, but not quite as bad as the night before, so I drove myself there, and before I knew it they had me in the chair, taking X-rays, and pictures. The dentist herself came in, and said, "yeah, it looks like it's your wisdom tooth that's causing the problem, so we're going to go in and pop that out of there, and you'll be feeling better in no time!" My head came up and my pain-fogged brain made it's first big decision of the day when it screamed "RUN!" I stayed in the chair, mainly because I was too tired to follow orders, and asked, "You're doing this now?" She looked into my wide eyes, and smiled. "Yup!" My head whirled, my blood pressure was rising, and I was approaching a state of sheer panic. And everything I wanted to say, got stuck because I have some self-respect and a 30-something year old woman can't just start screaming for mommy in the dentist's chair. But, oh how I wanted to! With shaking hands and a pounding heart, I explained that this procedure was a bit unexpected, and could I have a minute. After talking it over with my dentist, I realized this was probably the best way to not have any more nights like the night before, so I agreed and signed the papers that were needed. Within minutes the whole process was over, and my tooth was gone! It was all quite painless! I was surprised! I paid the bill, and headed off to work. I had no less than 5 people ask what I was doing there. I explained patiently, that my mother milked cows the day she had teeth pulled, and I come from hardy stock. Two hours into my shift, I realized that either the stock wasn't as hardy in the next generation, or my Novocaine was wearing off. A sub was found and after 2 hours of work, I was sent home to rest. As Ma Ingalls always said, "All's well that ends well." and I have come off my first traumatic dental visit with no extra phobias. I think. I have also learned that with Jesus and Ibuprofen, (in that order) I can handle most anything!

The In-laws are Visiting

Yesterday, September 23, was the day El Catracho and I drove into Washington DC to pick up his parents for their first visit ever to the United States. Anyone who is keeping up with current events, knows that Pope Francis had arrived the day before and is leaving the city today. I couldn't have timed that better if I had tried. Their plane wasn't getting in until 3 PM, and it's about a 3 hour drive to Washington but we decided to leave at 10 AM, the better to prepared for any holy delays. Wonder of wonders, it was a pretty uneventful trip and we arrived at the airport a whopping 2 hours early. Not enough time to go sightseeing, so we parked in short term parking and took a nap. Well, the man took a nap. I couldn't sleep. Too many people to watch! And so I watched. I saw an SUV pull up, and a couple get out. The girl wrapped a bejeweled black scarf around her head, and they headed into the airport. Two minutes later, he came back through the parking lot, talking on his cell phone and looking for someone or something. Apparently he found them or it, because I didn't see him again. A little later, his companion came by walking a slow leisurely pace, I saw her get into the passenger seat of a car she didn't drive in with and they drove off. "That was odd," I thought and continued watching people. A little while later, the same woman came from the direction of the airport, got into her SUV and drove off! At this point, I knew I had watched entirely too many crime dramas as I began to dream up all kind of nefarious situations that would explain the events that had just unfolded. As I was sharing my thoughts with the man who was trying to sleep, he opened one eye, and said, "Hmm that is interesting. oh look, it's after 2. Let's go inside and wait." I know when I'm being shut up. So we went inside, grabbed coffees, and checked out all the merchandise that said "I <3 Pope Francis" (I kid you not.) and sat down to people-watch again. There is no better place for this particular sport than an airport. Families waited outside the International Arrivals Building and as family members exited customs, happy laughs, some tears and much hugging took place. It was fascinating listening to the many languages. I could almost tell what people were saying by the expressions of happiness on their faces. We sat for about another hour, when our own happy reunion took place.  It is such a relief to have them here after so many disappointments while dealing with immigration, but that's another story. The trip back home was long, with lots of traffic and stopping and starting. We made it home although, I think my mother-in-law was starting to believe that this place called "Pennsylvania" was a myth and we lived in our car. After a long exhausting day, they had one more reunion as the children came home, and once more hugs and smiles abounded. Then it was early to bed, and Day One in the United States was over!

There was much to ponder as I lay in my own bed remembering the looks of wonder on their faces as we drove up to our house. My father-in-law was amazed by the yards and how green they were. It's September here in Pennsylvania, and I wanted to tell him he should see it in spring. We went into the house, and for the first time I saw my house through someone else's eyes. I didn't see the stained carpet and dark marks on the walls caused by sticky hands. Instead I saw walls and windows that don't let air or water inside. I saw a faucet that with a turn of the handle, we have all the water we could ever need, and still more. I saw a refrigerator and cupboards with enough food to last a few weeks. I saw my dishwasher that with a push of the button, my dishes are washed, and my washer that I load up before bed, and let it wash my clothes while I sleep. I saw my dryer that I load up the next morning and it dries my clothes while I go to work. Then I have the nerve to come home and wish someone would invent a clothes folder! I saw all these things and I felt ashamed. Not because I have them, but because maybe for the first time I truly saw what I have instead of what I don't have. I knew this visit would be a learning experience for all of us, and it seems my lessons have already begun. I love my little house in the development. It's not what I would have chosen for myself, but it's what I have, and it's more than enough. We are truly blessed beyond all we could ask or imagine.

Change....

I don't know anyone who can honestly say they love change. While some change is exciting like getting married or welcoming a new baby, other changes can be downright scary. We got the call last night that the only doctor that my children have ever seen passed away Saturday. Changing doctors, while a seemingly small change can be a scary thought. Especially when this particular doctor had sword fighting contests with little boys and talked Disney princesses with little girls. He came in calling each child by name, remembering the sport they played. He had so many patients but he always made this mama feel like her kids were the only ones. I remember the day our daughter was 5 months old and running a fever of 105. He took one look at her and told me to get her to the emergency room immediately. We spent the next two weeks in the hospital while they did tests and put her on a number of antibiotics. He saved her life that day, because I was too young and dumb to realize the slight fevers she had been running for a week and a half was actually a raging infection and not a side effect of teething.  He also was the kind of doctor that wouldn't prescribe antibiotics just to put your mind at ease. A source of frustration for me as a first time mom when I was sure my little baby was in the throes of his last breath, he informed me that it's just a cold, keep him hydrated and it will pass. He was right. And to this day, I think twice before giving my children cold medicine. He was also the doctor who sewed up our daughter after her run in with a neighbor's dog last spring. Something that struck me that day was that he treated her as though she was his own granddaughter. He was a professional but always treated us like his family. Maybe because he had watched the children grow through the years. He knew about their fears and their favorite things to do. His conversations with them covered everything from sports to where they wanted to go on vacation. Where some children dread doctor visits, my children looked forward to seeing Dr. Taylor and telling him about their latest accomplishments. The oldest even asked if he could invite Dr. Taylor to his 5th birthday party. You know you've made an impression as a doctor when they invite you to their birthday! Yes, the good doctor was a true family physician and he will be terribly missed, not only by our own family, but by families throughout the community.

This is Me

This is a new thing for me. I like writing, but I don't often let people see what I'm writing, because I don't like being that vulnerable. That said, I do like to share the fun stuff that happens in my life.  I am a mom of 3 and they are the cutest most adorable munchkins ever created. I am not exaggerating. I, however, am completely immune to their charms, and have been told I am the meanest mom in the world to which I replied, good, it means I'm doing my job right. I also teach preschool. I love it most days. I am learning so much about the way kids grow. Like the fact that a class of preschool girls is every bit as scary as the ninth grade girls you went to school with. I am convinced they don't become that way. They're born that way. On the flip side a class of all preschool boys will send you to the loony bin just as fast as the girls will. Hence the name of the blog. I have already gone around the bend, and I'm enjoying being crazy way more than being sane. El Catracho (a fantastic term that basically means The Honduran) also lives in this house around the bend. He thinks he's still sane, but he wouldn't still be here if he was. He's a very good musician and has musician friends over at times and they rock the house. I am expecting the police to be called some time, but so far our neighbors have been very nice and they put up with us. Between the music, the yelling (in English and Spanish) and the laughing, our house is rocking all the time. We live a simple, comfortable, crazy life that includes soccer games, gymnastics, homework, housework (when I can't get out of it) teaching work, and just everything in between. We are a bilingual bi-cultural family and that creates a lot of fun in itself. You bi-cultural mamas know what I'm talking about! We eat sleep and breathe soccer all the time. We cheer for Phillies baseball even though we know they'll probably lose. We love apple pie, fireworks on the fourth of July, tamales and torrejas at Christmas, and we eat rice and beans with turkey at Thanksgiving. I told you, we are not normal and we like it that way. Life is hard, but our faith and our humor keep us going. As the song says, "We were made to more than just survive, we were made to thrive." That's all for now, but I'll be back to share more about my life around the bend.