Feeling Under the Weather

The Bumper has been feeling under the weather for the last few days and I am getting a new appreciation for the all night vigil. When I was a new mom and the Bumper was very small I spent a lot of sleepless nights with her. She was what is known as a happy spit-er, although at the time I was not convinced there was anything happy about it. These days she sleeps nearly all the way through the night, waking occasionally for some comfort nursing or cup of water, until she gets sick.
I have gotten used to getting a good nights sleep, being woken at 2am by vomiting was quite a shock to both our systems. The big difference is that this time around I was prepared. I know enough now to put everything I can on hold and sleep when she sleeps. Although I certainly did not mind holding her head and wiping her mouth after each round, I did mind that she could not keep still. The Bumper insisted on getting up and wandering around, which made for some very messy clean up!

Because she  did not get any better and was unable to keep anything, liquid or solid, down, I took her to the emergency room at our local hospital. Fortunately the Bumper was not severely dehydrated and the hospital just gave us some medicine and sent us on our way. That night, for the first time in over a week we slept peacefully.The peace did not last, as Nana and I both came down with the same virus. YUCK! Three people sick at one time was definitely not fun. I can laugh now, but at the time all three us us taking turns running to the bathroom did not inspire humor!

Fast forward to December 6th. I was the Bumper's birthday and time for her well child check up. Well this pleased mama is happy to announce that my three year old kiddo is doing fine. She was healthy, well coordinated, and talked the doctors ear off. I could not be happier! After the events of the last month, we needed some good news.

Blessings,

Kim

Mourning and Peace

After three weeks of sleepless, harrowing nights, when every sound made me start and reach for the phone, the call finally came. At 9:52pm EST on November 25, 2013 I got the call from the hospital telling me the Bumper's dad had passed away. I knew it was coming, and still I was not prepared. In spite of myself I expected him to pull the proverbial rabbit out of the hat and pull through. I am still expecting to get a phone call or a text message from him telling me that somehow it was all a mistake. I keep pinching myself to be sure this isn't some kind of deranged nightmare. It is all too real. Yet it is quite surreal, and I am told the way I am feeling is quite normal. I know the people who are telling me this mean to be reassuring, I do not feel reassured. I feel sad, angry, relieved, cold, empty and hurt all at once.

The funeral was Monday December 2, 2013. I did not realize, until it happened to me, how hollow the words people say at funerals seem. I must admit I was in shock then, and the shock has not worn off. Underneath is a vault of tears I have yet to open. I know right now I need to  be strong, for the Bumper, and to get through the legal aftermath. My strength comes from the peace I gained on Sunday November 24, 2013. Let me explain.

On Friday November 22, 2013, the hospital called me and said if I wanted to visit with Matt that the coming weekend would be a good time. This announcement filled me with a quaking dread, I wasn't sure I wanted to see him sick, but the hospital kept saying they were trying everything they could and he was still not responding. Saturday proved to be impossible, so I called the hospital on Sunday morning to check to see if he had improved; he had not, in fact he had gotten worse. The Bumper's dad, the hospital told me, was going into liver failure and his kidneys and pancreas were not far behind. The settled it, off we went. Nana, the Bumper, and I drove the six hours to the hospital where the Bumper's dad was being treated.
I had been warned about what to expect when I got to the Medical Intensive Care Unit. I had been told he could not speak, and was in and out of consciousness. On the drive down I wrote him a letter of all the things I wanted to say to him: how I felt about the verbal abuse, the separation, the custody agreement, his illness, everything. I had been warned. I thought I was prepared. I wasn't

The Bumper's dad lay in a bed swollen and jaundiced -- he was the color of a dirty yellow tennis ball, where the whites of his eyes should have been were filled in with blood, and he could do barely more than moan. There was however light in his eyes, his mind was still there, trapped in a body that was slowly failing, I could see his pain and distress I immediately went to him and grasped one of his hands with mine, and placed my other hand on his chest where I could feel his rapid heartbeat. All I had written, except the last two lines, seemed pointless. I knew what I had to say and I said it.

"I forgive you," I said, "I forgive you for the past eighteen month and for everything that led to our separation."

The Bumper's dad closed his eyes, and sighed, his heartbeat slowed and when he reopened his eyes there was a calm and peace that was not there before. Not willing to simply leave it at that I asked him to forgive me if I had in anyway harmed him. The Bumper's did lightly squeezed my hand and I took that for absolution. Peace settled upon the both of us and we were at ease with one another again,
For the next three hours we stayed with our hands together. We reminisced as best we could about the good times we had shared,. I sang him all of his favorite hymns and a few of our favourite songs. A news story came on about the town where we got engaged and the Bumper's dad shook his body as best he could to point it out to me. I am also confident he made his peace with God because he allowed the hospital chaplain to pray with us and when I asked if he wanted a priest to come and give him the sacrament of the anointing of the sick, he gave me a thumb up. I sat with him until the anaesthesiologist came to begin the last treatment the hospital was going to try. Before I left the room I leaned over and one last time told him I had forgiven him, whispered 'I love you' and reminded him of God's love for him. I refused to say good bye instead I said:

"Fare the well, be at peace and if you need to go, rest assured that I will do my best to let the Bumper know how much her dad loved her."

We did not get back home until two in the morning on Monday. At 7:00pm the hospital called and a teleconference was held with the rest of the family (I was unable to go back to the hospital because of the distance), The treatment they had tried the night before was not working, and the hospital had run out of things to try except to make him comfortable. We agreed to let nature take its course and later that night I got the final call.

I will always be grateful that God gave me the chance to reconcile with the Bumper's dad. I am glad I took the chance when it was offered. I can now look my daughter in the eye and share the good things about him without bitterness or feeling false. I cam mourn with out guilt. I take comfort in the look of peace the Bumper's dad had on his face when I left him that night. The tears will come, but for now Peace sustains me.

Blessings,
Kim

Autumn Splendor

I love it when the air changes from warm to cool for fall. I love the crisp hint of winter in the air and I am a complete sucker for the changing leaves. I adore the brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows this region produces. This year has not yet been good for fall colors. It has been too dry and hot or too wet or too something. So I am going to post a few pictures from last year.
The Bumper has had a nasty cold for the last several days and  much as I enjoy snuggling by the fire with her I am anxious to have her well.
One of the highlights of this Autumn has been watching the Bumper eagerly call out the colors on the trees. She has also been fascinated by the squirrels hiding their acorns. Whenever we go walking in the woods, the Bumper insists we walk quietly so as not to scare the squirrels and make them forget where they have put their nuts.
It has been so much fun experiencing this season with a small child, her pure joy lifts my spirits.
Blessings,
Kim

Ok this is a bit of a cheat, these are our mum from this year.

I just love how cozy the house look snuggled into the foot hills

The soft warm colors are so pretty

This fireball stood out

More mellow trees that make me want to curl up with some tea.

Faith, Trust and Carrying On

Warning: If you are expecting a happy carefree post about homemaking, crafts, or Christian living turn back now.

I am not in a happy place right now. I am in a faith filled place, I am in a grateful place, but it is not a happy place. It is more like an angry, grief stricken, shock-y, this is not really happening to me place.
I debated about blogging this, but I know I am not the only person in this situation and sometimes writing out my feelings helps me sort through them.

On Friday, November 8, 2013 at 4:00 in the morning I got one those calls. The ones that only come in the middle of the night or early morning and come with terrible news. A hospital called  asking for my  permission to treat the Bumper's dad because he had ingested Tylenol, aspirin, and rat poison. My first thought was why would anyone over the age of three mistakenly eat rat poison
then came the realization. The Bumper's dad had tried to commit suicide.
Oh.
Dear.
God.
He is now in the hospital's ICU. He has not regained consciousness, he is not responding to external pain stimuli, he is on a respirator, I have been told there is some brain activity.  The doctors have thus far been unwilling, or unable to give me a prognosis-- they do not know if  he will recover or when. It could take up to thirty days for the poison to leave his body. Thirty days of uncertainty. Thirty days for me to deal with my pain, anger and grief.

Even with everything that had passed between us, with the verbal abuse, I  was still cognizant that this was someone I had once loved enough to marry and have a child with. So I feel betrayed--again.
It hurts to know that he was in so much pain that he thought dying was better than living. Then I get angry, because he kept telling me how much he loved his daughter and all I can think is : Well if you loved her so much, why did you do this to yourself? What about the Bumper? What do I tell her? Best case scenario is he recovers fully and this incident never gets mentioned.  Other options include having to explain to her why he chose to end his life, or why he is so incapacitated that he can not be a father to her. For there are things worse than death.

For example as the legal spouse I have medical power of attorney by default, so I may be called upon to make end of life decisions for someone who should still be in his prime. At the risk of sounding completely selfish: I am so not prepared for this. I do not understand this. Someone said to me recently, after I had explained the situation that many people in my position might have committed suicide themselves or at the very least dived headfirst into a bottle. Neither is an option for me.
Firstly I believe my life is a gift from God and I do not have the right to take it and secondly I am the Bumper's mother. I love her and she needs me. How could I abandon her? As to diving into the bottle-- I will have five years sobriety this November and I am not going to lose that. Anyway it would not do any good, because I certainly would not be able to take care of the Bumper in a drunken stupor and hangovers are a pain.

 So what am I doing? How have I gotten through the last few days without going completely insane?
I have relied on God. I have prayed. I have put my trust in the Lord. It has not been easy. I have read the Bible and called friends to have them pray with me. It helps, but only so much because I am still very human. I get up, I make breakfast, I go through our daily routine. I give and accept hugs from the Bumper. I smile with her as she points out with childish delight the trees arrayed on scarlet and gold. I laugh when a much anticipated rain shower does not produce the lovely splashing puddles she so wanted to jump in.

In the midst of sorrow life still goes on. I am praying for those in the Philippines affected by the Typhoon and grateful my friends are safe. I am trying to look beyond what is going on in my life and reach out to others. I am simply carrying on.

Blessings,
Kim

The Peace Corps has nothing on Motherhood

The slide

 

The motto of the U.S. Peace Corps is "The toughest job you'll ever love," and until I become a mother I thought they were right.  They are wrong. Being a mother (or father) is the toughest job and I love it.  I don't always like it, but I always love the Bumper. Yesterday was one of those days when I did not like being a mom very much and it was one of those days that nothing could have prepared me for.


The Swing

On Tuesday the Bumper and I  spend a fabulous day together. In the morning she colored with her crayons, and played with her play-dough while I did the house work. In the afternoon we went to the local zoo and park, where she spent a good twenty minutes watching the squirrels find and bury acorns before heading to the swings, slide and sand box. She even left with out a fuss. I was thrilled, I was ecstatic, I was duped.

The sandbox

A view of the river that runs through the zoo

I should have known it was too good to last. My first clue ought to have been when her teacher at nursery school gave her a sticker for being a good listener. I felt so tickled I decided to take her to the school's playground. I reminded her to "listen to mommy" and off we went. All went well until it was time to go home. Then my cherubic toddler threw her biggest tantrum to date. She flung herself down to the ground, howled, cried, screamed, threw sand and refused to move. I tried being firm, I really did. I told her in a no nonsense tone that the tantrum would not get her what she wanted so she might as well get up off the ground and come with me. She didn't budge. In the end I had to drag her out, while twenty or so other parents watched. It was not pretty. The Bumper did that whole go completely limp while still squirming thing that little kids are so very good at and I literally dragged her to the car where she refused to get in. I had to explain to her the only way she could go home and talk to Daddy on the computer was to actually sit down in her car seat. She finally did and a few minutes later while happily munching her afternoon snack the Bumper announces "I'm sorry I cried Mom, I just wanted to stay and play. I'm sorry. I love you Mom"
Sigh. I am putty. "I love you too Bumper."
Parenthood is not for the weak.

Blessings,

Kim

Nesting Instinct - Well kind of

Mums

Snicker doodles

We have entered the time of year here on the East Coast of the or rather Mid-Atlantic or the United States, when the weather starts to cool down and the crock pots start to heat up. It is time to, or nearly, to break out the sweater and head out into the woods. It is time to put away the swimsuits, much to the Bumper's dismay, and take out the running shoes, summer gardening is being replaced by baking and crafting. I am enjoying this. I am ready to make hearty soups, stews, and chili, I am ready for apple pie. Okay I do have to wait a few more weeks for the crisp tart apples just right for pie and apple butter, but I can dream! Kale and cornbread will feature heavily this Autumn, they are two things I like to cook and the Bumper likes to eat. Of course weather or not I actually do any of this remains to be seen, but for some reason fall brings out my inner domestic goddess wanna be and that includes crafts.

Every year around this time I convince my self that I can learn to sew, knit , crochet, spin and felt with the best of them and give my self all sorts of ambitious projects to work on. This year will be different! (please insert maniacal laugh) I have given my self two goals:
 1. Sew an apron
 2. Finish the throw the Bumper's Nana wants by Christmas
 Easy.
I am working on a new crochet project for the Bumper's Nana, she requested I make her a Granny Square throw. Since I am addicted to making Granny Squares, I am happy to oblige. I love how relaxing crochet is. I feel so  much better when I have knocked out a couple of squares. I am not wild about her color scheme, but she likes it and that is what matters. I can't decide if I should do  two-toned squares or single color in a patchwork design.  My next step is to find a simple full coverage apron pattern. Wish me success!  I did not make the curry yesterday so I will make it today, the mushrooms did not make it to the table either, but the Bumper and I gorged ourselves on ripe tomatoes, cucumber, yogurt ( yeah I know not vegan of me but we do not have access to soy yogurt here) dill and mint. Yummy!

Blessings,

Kim

Meatless Monday

Ok. I cave. I give in. It is official. Autumn is here and I thought the best way to celebrate would be to try out some hearty autumnal type recipes:

For Breakfast:
Pumpkin Oatmeal
Hazelnut Coffee

For Lunch
Sautéed Mushrooms
Chickpeas
The last of the cumbers and tomatoes

Supper:
Some sort of curry or soup.

These are my good intentions anyway. I might get carried away by the glorious weather, bright blue skies, a slight chill in the air, packing up some peanut butter and jam sandwiches and spend the rest of the day at the park with the Bumper.
Yesterday the Bumper and I had some surprise visitors from out of town, who had never been to our part of the country before. What did we do? We took them to the beach of course. Our visitors got a kick out of the Bumper very fussily ordering everyone to hurry up and go when she wasn't even dressed yet! The Bumper loves to be out of doors and in weather like today's I couldn't agree more. I don't really have a favorite time of year, but I do enjoy mid-September. It is not to hot, nor too cold, it is just right!

Blessings,

Kim