Because I Never Want to Forget Part II

For those of you who love the gory pictures, here you go!

I think about the most fun thing you can do with a wound that looks like it could turn septic at any moment, an achilles tendon that was just repaired and a boot and a pair of crutches is head to the beach 12 hours away.

So that's just what we did.

My doctor changed my cast before I left because a) my cast was so tight it felt like my foot was having contractions and at any moment it was going to birth another foot and because b) we were headed to the beach. Although, it still doesn't make any sense because he told me to stay away from the sand and the water.

Oh good! So let's go!!!!!!!!

I had a long week at the beach. We went for a family reunion with Paul's side of the family. To get into any of the houses that we rented, I had to go up 2 flights of stairs. And, just to get to the beach so I could sit and sweat, I had to "walk" at least a football field.

After a long week, it took us 15 hours to get home and we got up the next morning and went to church. After church, we went to out to lunch because we didn't have any food in the house. When lunch was over, I sent Paul home with the kids and my mom out to pull up the car. She was going to take me to the grocery store, but I had to go to the bathroom first. The restaurant was not very crowded and I was so glad because when I have to GO.... I like to GO A L O N E!

I was hobbling back to the restroom and when I was just about at the door, this lady came up right behind me, "Oh, what you do to your foot?"

YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!!! I have been living in a 1000 sq foot house at the beach with 17 people (yes, 17 people in one house) for a week. All I want it some privacy in the bathroom.

I make my way inside. "I dropped a knife and severed my achilles tendon."

I turned around to look at a woman and upon first glance and I got the vibe that she might be a little socially awkward. She had some really bad frosted hair that is spiked up all over the place, red lipstick and frosty blue eye shadow.

She responded, "Oh, did you have to have surgery."

I proceeded into the stall thinking surely she will not shut up, do her business and leave.

"Yes."

She headed into her stall and I heard, "So, who was your surgeon?"

"Dr. Walker." Keeping the answers brief. She'll get the point.

"Is he at the Valley?"

"No."

"Oh! He's not? Where is he?"

OH MY WORD!!!!!!!!!!!! I do NOT want to talk to you! I have business to do in here.

"He's at____________".

"I'm a nurse. I thought sure he was at the Valley."

"Nope."

"So, how long ago did you do it?"

For the love of all that is holy! Isn't there some kind of unwritten etiquette that you don't talk to people through stalls when you don't know them?

"4 weeks ago."

"When was your surgery?"

At this point, I realized I was going to get nothing accomplished in there so I came out. And, yep, she was right there waiting on me.

"I had surgery on the 30th, 10 days after the injury."

I started drying my hands.

"When can you walk on it again?"

I walked to the door. Opened the door. Went out the door. Turned around. Held door open for myself and answered her ANNOYING question.

"Well, my brother is a foot and ankle surgeon and he says usually 8 weeks after surgery."

WRONG thing to say.

"Oh, where is he a surgeon?"

"Pittsburgh."

"Oh, so are you a nurse?"

At this point I have moved farther away and now she is holding the door open.

"No. I'm not a nurse."

"Oh, I'm surprised you're not a nurse."

NOW WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU SURPRISED I AM NOT A NURSE????

BECAUSE MY BROTHER IS A DOCTOR AND I HAVE AN INJURY???!!!

"So, what to you do?"

"I attend anger management classes so I don't shoot annoying people!!! NOW LEAVE ME ALONE."

Ok so I didn't say that. I think I muttered something about being a teacher and then I turned and NEVER looked back. I told her my mom was waiting.

She went back into the restroom. Probably to finish the business she wouldn't let me do!!

Geesh!!

The next day, Janae asked if I could meet her after she taught her Zumba class. She too had been on vacation and we wanted to catch up. We decided to head to a little restaurant that I had never been to. It had an outdoor seating area and we thought it would be nice to sit outside and talk.

We had probably been there about 20 minutes when the door opened and headed out to sit at the table right next to us was..... yep, the lady from the day before.

I gasped and Janae turned and said, "What?!"

I said, "That lady! She was at the same restaurant I was at yesterday."

Janae, being facetious says, "I don't know how you'd recognize her."

No one could forget that hair.

I lowered my voice and I said, "I've got to tell you about her."

I leaned in closer so I could whisper and Janae could hear me.

The lady and her husband/boyfriend ? were seated RIGHT next to us.

As the frosty spiky haired lady was being seated, she looked at the back of Janae's Zumba shirt and she started talking, "So, you teach Zuhmba?

My eyes got really wide and I looked straight into Janae's eyes and I said, "She just asked you if you teach Zuhmba? ZUHMBA!"

We fought the urge to die laughing, instead we ignored her and I kept talking.

Again we heard, "So, you teach Zuhmba?"

Again we ignored her.

Why is she saying it like that?

I honestly don't know how we kept it together. We are not the most mature people together. We think the same things are funny and we laugh... A LOT!

We kept looking at each other and kept right on talking. She was not saying A WORD to her boyfriend/husband (same guy she was with the day before, by the way) and she kept glancing at our table.

I whispered, "Janae, she keeps looking over her for any break in our conversation to talk to us."

Janae: "Just don't look at her."

We had managed to avoid her for a long time. But at about 10 pm and we decided we both needed to head home.

We stood up and she saw her chance. "So, you teach Zuhmba?

Janae: "Yes, I do."

"Yeah, I've been to your Zumba class. (She said Zumba. She can say it right! Why was she saying Zuhmba then?) (And, WHY DID SHE KEEP ASKING IF SHE ALREADY KNEW THE ANSWER?) Yeah, but you move so damn fast I can't keep up with you! I'm going to come again. You still teach on Wednesday? Yeah, I'll be there Wednesday. Where do you think I should stand? I've stood in the back and I can't really see that well. I don't want to be in the front though."

Janae came up with a brilliant idea, "Well, I guess you could stand in the middle?"

"Yeah. I'll be there Wednesday."

She shifted her focus to me. "What happened to your foot?"

Seriously?!

"I dropped a knife and severed my achilles tendon."

"Oh, d'ya have surgery."

IS THIS A JOKE?

"Yes."

"Who was your surgeon?"

"Dr. Walker."

"Oh, is he at the Valley?"

Ok! Where's the camera? There is no way this lady does not remember this same story from a little more than 24 hours ago.

"No."

"Are you a nurse?"

WHY DO YOU KEEP ASKING ME IF I'M A NURSE?

"No. I'm not a nurse."

Janae started walking away and I followed right behind her. We got through the door to the inside of the restaurant, waited for the door to close safely behind us and burst into tears of laughter.

What are the chances? What is wrong with people and how on earth do they find me?

I went to Zumba on that Wednesday.

Oh yes I did! I sat right there next to the Janae's stage and prayed to the good Lord that the frosted spiky haired lady would show up. I could just visualize her doing some Zuhmba.

You can imagine my disappointed.

And, this story my friends, is what I really want to remember about my injury.

Socially awkward people! I love them!!!

Because I Never Want to Forget Part 1

It's been a year since I've written a blog post. That's ridiculous. It's probably ridiculous given any context but it's even more ridiculous given that I have spent at least 14 weeks of this past year doing very little. As a matter of fact, 8 of those weeks I wasn't even allowed to put any weight on my left foot.

Why? Well, glad you asked.

On June 20th, I was making dinner for my family and for Janae's family as they were returning from a trip. I didn't have a kitchen sink because we were remodeling our kitchen. So, I carried a skillet with some utensils down the stairs and into the laundry room. I have a large utility sink so I was washing everything in there. As I stepped into the laundry room, my foot gave out and I couldn't walk. I thought I stepped on something and that the pain would register in a moment, so I turned to try to walk again to see what I stepped on. Again, I could not walk. Instead, I noticed a gaping hole right above my heel (it split like chicken) and some blood on the floor. Then, as my eyes glanced up, I saw a large slicer knife with a pronged end lying on the ground.

Our friend Leah was at our house doing laundry, so I very calmly yelled at her, "Hey Leah, can you come down and help me." She came down to find me on all fours as I could not for the life of me figure out what to do. I then asked her to get my phone. I called Paul and told him what had happened and asked him what I should do. At this point, I was white as a ghost, face covered in sweat beads, and positive I was going to blow chunks at any moment.

He said, "Go to the emergency room." I said, "You don't understand. I'm really hurt. I can't walk. " He said, "I know! Go to the emergency room!" Clearly, not thinking straight, I was like, "Oh the emergency room!"

I got off the phone and realized I was no better off than when I called him. I still could not walk. Leah and Shelby got me a towel and some tape and I taped the towel around my foot, and then I started to crawl. I crawled over to the stairs and then up the stairs. I crawled around the corner to the front door and then realized I had no idea what to do. By this time, Gracie and our neighbor was home so they ran to get me some crutches. They brought the crutches back and I was in no condition to adjust them as they were way too big. Finally, I held onto Leah and Shelby, hopped what seemed like a mile to the car, and then Leah drove to me the emergency room.

I waited way too long in that waiting room. I was not hurting I just wanted that gaping hole closed up. I saw a teenage boy holding a towel around his finger, I desperately wanted to bet him that my cut was worse than his, but I never made it over there.

While I was waiting to be taken back, my friend Courtney called. Her husband, Brad, out of the blue, insisted she call me. When she found out where I was, she came straight to the hospital.

I was taken back for xrays while my male nurse friend made sure he told me I was his greatest nightmare. He was sure I was in some slasher film and someone had waited under my car to slash my achilles or I was walking down an old wooden staircase where someone was hiding, whipped out a knife and slashed my achilles.

Comforting. Clearly, he had taken a few courses in counseling patients.

While it was confirmed that my achilles tendon was indeed slashed in two, the story was no where near as exciting as he was trying to make it.

My mom and Paul arrived at the hospital sure I had over exaggerated my cut. At this point, they had me turn over on my stomach so they could flush the wound.

Janae was calling and being called for updates on her drive home. Finally they stitched me up and told me I needed to contact a surgeon for the repair.

Janae arrived at the hospital right before I was released and Courtney went to teach her Zumba class while she stayed with me.

Meanwhile, my friend Jen had gone to get my kids at home, taken them to dinner and then hung out with them until we got home.

Once at home my friend Andrea (please pronounce AHHn drea) arrived and before I knew it, there was a party at my house. And, while it was definitely not an occasion to celebrate, it sure made me thankful to be surrounded by so many people who cared.

While I never want to forget what it feels like to be surround by so many friends and family, this is not really the purpose for this post, so, you're going to have to come back tomorrow to read what I REALLY never want to forget:-)

I'm rusty. You didn't think I was really going to get it all done in one post, did you?

My first cast... all for a cut.

Getting my first cast cut off before surgery.

The cast the surgeon put on. Written on my leg

Yes.

Shew! They got they right leg

More pictures tomorrow!

A Monkey Riding on the Back of an Elephant?

Something happens to people after they live with us. Sarah lived with us a year and then moved to California. Darja lived with us and moved to Colorado. Presently, Sue is counting down her last days here and heading back to Korea.

I didn't take it too personally until I happened to read a blog post recently written by Darja. (You can read it for your self by clicking here if you'd like.) She came to visit and then... low and behold I found ourselves part of her writing.

Sunday was spent with another group of very important people- the ever-growing Isaacs family. I swear they’re playing a sick game called ’let’s see how many living things can live in one house.’ They’ve got 4 kids, a foreign exchange student, a dog, and now a second dog. I won’t be surprised if the next time I visit them, I find a monkey riding an elephant in the living room. And April will find a way to make it seem so normal. Don’t know how they do it, but they’re great for opening up their lives to a bunch of shmucks like us, and I always enjoy visiting with them. It was such a beautiful day, too.

I have often felt like I was living in a circus. Come to find out, others think that too... and then they move... far away. Hmmm.....

Wild Turkey

I'm hitting the wild turkey!!!

Or should I say, we hit a wild turkey.

We've been home from vacation for a month now and I still can't get over the fact that while we were minding our own business and cruising through the state of South Carolina, a wild turkey decided to go on a suicide mission and use our van to carry out his death wish.

We saw him setting on the side of the road. He began to lift his wings and Paul said, "Don't your DARE START TO....." BANG!!!

I thought he hit our windshield until I got home and noticed the huge dent in our hood. A dent that looks exactly like someone threw a frozen turkey at us.

I also remember Paul saying, "Did you look in the review mirror and see it explode? Feathers were flying everywhere?"

NO I didn't see that! I was too busy trying to get over the fact that 1) a wild turkey was even on the side of the road and that 2) he had the audacity to his us. Jerk!

I am happy to say that that was the most eventful thing that happened on our vacation. And, why it even surprises me, I'm not sure. We all know that when I travel, things happen.

We had a fabulous vacation. We left on a Thursday right when the kids got out of school . We drove to Asheville, NC. Where I scored an amazing deal on a hotel and tickets to the Biltmore.

On Friday morning, we ate breakfast with the locals and then we toured the Biltmore (more on that later).

We left Asheville, Friday afternoon and drove to Greenville, SC. One of Paul's best friends in all the world lives there. Dave and his family took us to dinner at the Mellow Mushroom (my favorite pizza in all the world), and then we came back and celebrated Paul's 40th birthday with them. We crashed at their place! Nothing life a family of 7 crashing someone's house!

On Saturday morning we got up and drove to Hilton Head. Our great friends, Shawn and Bill (a married couple, girl and guy... haha!) gave us an unbelievable ocean front condo there.

We had awesome weather the whole time. It did rain one morning and so we headed to Savannah, Georgia for the day. I've always wanted to go to Savannah and it lived up to my expectations. I am now trying to decide which southern city is my favorite, Charleston or Savannah.

On Thursday evening of our vacation, Paul's very best friend in all the world flew in for his birthday. His name is Jon. There is no way to describe Jon Tice. I think he's one of the greatest men in all the world. His packed full of everything: Godliness, wisdom, humor, wittiness, kindess, etc... I could go on and on. He's one of those people that's like a breath of fresh air. One feels better just having spent time in his presence. Paul and Jon had a great time. They golfed on Friday and Saturday with Jackson hanging with the men. He got his first taste of golf and on Friday and declared that, "the best day of his life."

After spending a week in Hilton Head, I totally get the hype. It's one of my favorite places now. I love the low oak trees with the spanish moss hanging from them. I love that the whole island feels like an island. There's no commercialization there. There are no billboards or signs and the buildings, even McDonalds and Wendy's look like they are part of a plantation.

It had been a long time since our family had been on a vacation and we have one of the best weeks ever!

Eating breakfast with the locals in Asheville, NC.

The Biltmore

Shelby and her friend Bridget... being 12.

I swear they live to make Emme cry!

Our condo was in the center, one down from the top.

Harbour Town for dinner one night.

If you stood in the kitchen in our condo, you could see the ocean out of 3 windows. AMAZING!!!

Savannah for the day!

Emme spent many hours watering the cement at the pool.

We saw lots of jellyfish.

and crabs. And we saw dolphins every single day!

Paul, Jackson and Jon getting ready to golf.

I loved this beautifully landscaped areas between the pools.

Emme was uncooperative during my photo shoot. She had just woke up.

Ah... so pleasant when she wakes up! NOT!

I can't wait to tell her what a jerk she was one of these days.

I hope they grow up to be best friends.... cause they sure don't act like it now.

Whoever Says There's Not a Difference Between Boys and Girls.....

Whoever says there's not a difference between boys and girls is full of malarkey.

When I have a friend that hurts my feelings, it affects me for awhile. Even if they say, "I'm sorry." and I accept and forgive, I walk around feeling all pitiful for awhile. I can't let it go. It eats at me and I nurse it. I try not to. I really do, but it's like I just can't get over it.

It's not the same with boys. They can beat the crap out of each other one minute and the the next minute they're like, "Hey, want to go climb that tree?"

I have the opportunity to watch both of the sexes play out their respective roles in this house of mine.

Friday, Jackson went over to play with our neighbor, Trayce. Jackson and Trayce have a lot in common as they are the same age and have played on a couple of different sports teams together.

So, Friday they were playing when their friendship went south. Trayce called Jackson a jerk.

Jackson retaliated. He said, "Well, you're a jerk!" And, then he followed that up with a remark that cut to the soul. Jackson said, " You're a jerk....AND.... and... I know more Jesus facts than you!"

SO there!! Take that!

I know more Jesus facts than you? Who says that? And, what does that even mean anyway?

What is wrong with my kids? My littlest hates Charlotte, the little girl on TV with Primordial Dwarfism and Jackson brags about how many Jesus facts he knows? Again... we really know how to love people. Feels so good to say we are a missionary family. Want to support us?

Jackson came home for about 10 minutes. That was boring because we have a house full of girls and Trayce has a house full of boys. So, Jackson put all of his snow gear back on and marched over across the street.

He walked straight to Trayce's house and knocks on the front door.

Knock, knock knock.

Trayce came to the door, "Yeah?"

Jackson says, "Hey Trayce! Want to play?" Acting as if NOTHING happened 10 minutes ago.

Trayce said, "No. You called me a jerk and told me you knew more Jesus facts than me."

Jackson, piling up his list of sins, very emphatically says, "No I didn't!!"

Trayce said, "Yes you did! You called me a jerk and told me you knew more Jesus facts than me."

Again, Jackson said, "No I didn't"

"Jackson!! Yes you did! You called me a jerk and told me you knew more Jesus facts than me!

Jackson said, "OK!! I'm sorry! Want to play some football?"

Trayce says, "Sure!"

And, there you have it. The difference between boys and girls... all wrapped in how many Jesus facts you may or may not know.

Jackson's Teeth

Jackson. My one and only precious little boy.

Seriously, does he not look like the classic all-American boy?

Don't answer that.

Don't burst my bubble if you don't think so.

Don't get me wrong. The boy has his issues. He's as squirrelly as they come. He never sits. Not even in school. The teacher tells me he stands... with one leg bent resting on the chair. She also told me that since winter, she has implemented exercise in her room. There's no outdoor recess with all the snow we've had this year. The whole class has to exercise, but it's really for just Jackson.

That's what she told me.

At home, Jackson spends more time walking on his hands than he does walking on his feet. And, if he's not walking on his hands, he's spinning on his head. I don't know what that's all about. I don't ask. As long as he's not aggravating someone... I don't really care how much spinning on his head he does.

We try not to be home too often with Jackson. This winter he plays indoor soccer, he wrestles and he plays basketball. 'Is that too much?' you ask. You come live with him. We have to do something with all his energy.

He wears us out, but his looks... Isn't he so cute? Those freckles on his nose?

Well, I thought so. I thought he was so cute. That all came crashing down one day, those perfect looks. They came crashing down because one day when my best friend Janae said, "Jackson's teeth looks exactly like marshmallows. Those little white marshmallows."

I mean look at him! They do!! But, who says this? Your best friend?

Geesh!

With friends like that....

Ok, ok... I confess. In all fairness, one day I told her her oldest daughter had British teeth. But, that was after I saw the x-ray of her teeth.

And, when she said his teeth looked like those little white marshmallows, I laughed about it for a week. I still laugh about it.

Since then, I decided he also looks like a Minion from Despicable Me.

Either way... he's adorable. One day, he'll grow into those teeth... and then I'll miss them.

LOVE... It can be felt in our home

Cabin Fever has reached an all new level in this house. It's Wednesday evening, 10:36 pm, to be exact, and I have not been out of my house in over 48 hours. Somebody better start hiding all the sharp objects... or the kids better go to school tomorrow.

One or the other.

Even our television viewing has reached desperate levels. Tonight Paul was flipping through the TV in our bedroom and he stopped on a TLC show called the World's Smallest Children.

Now... I'll watch about anything on TLC or HGTV once I've heard like 1.5 sentences spoken.

I'm like a deer in the headlights. "DON'T TOUCH THAT REMOTE!" But, the only time I usually sit down to watch TV is when we watch it as a family. However, cabin fever had set in and I was in my room with Paul... hiding.

I was hiding from all the kids except Emme. She was on my bed with me... playing with my iphone. She can work that thing like it's nobody's business.

The show that night featured a little girl named, Charlotte. Charlotte has Primordial Dwarfism and it seems that, even among others with Primordial Dwarfism, she is unusually small.

I can talk about unusually small because... Emme is unusually small. She might hover over Charlotte by a whopping 6 inches. But, Charlotte's 2 ....Emme's is 3 1/2. So, it's not like Emme's earned any real bragging rights.

While I was deeply invested in this show trying to figure out if Charlotte had Primordial Dwarfism type I or type II, Emme took a second away from "her" iphone and glanced up at the TV.

She saw precious little Charlotte and in a very matter of fact tone, announced, "I hate that girl."

And, then she went right back to her phone.

Oh, the love of Jesus! It is so felt in our home!

I've decided I need to be less concerned about Emme's stature and whether or not she gets enough milk or enough calories... or even food! I need to focus on that child's heart. Apparently, she's got like... little dog syndrome. She must see herself as some Swedish super model or something. Seriously, who does she think she is?

I may not blog again for awhile. I will be spending all my free time reading Emme the Bible.

Here's Charlotte's story if you'd like to read about her:

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1288366/The-tiniest-girl-world-Charlotte-Garside-rare-dwarfism.html