Living A Miracle – We All Do… Every Day’
This Memorial Day Weekend!
DOWNLOAD IT FROM AMAZON,
FOR SOME FREE INSPIRATION,
THIS HOLIDAY WEEKEND!
HAPPY MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND!!!
These little boys in Indonesia, are about the age of my son. He wears a dapper little uniform to school, just like these boys….
He laughs and smiles like these boys too.
The only difference- he uses an umbrella,
they use a banana leaf….
It’s a Small, Small World.
Filed under: Entertainment, Life, Mom Victories, Thankful, Uncategorized
I’m so excited to announce the
publication of my eBook,
Living A Miracle,
We All Do… Every Day
It has been a labor of love and recounts my recovery from a terrible car accident that left me partially paralyzed, with brain hemorrhages,
I made a complete recovery, obviously,
and I look at life differently now.
This is a book about reality.
I’m a realist.
We all live miracles, every day.
Click On the Image of My Book
to the RIGHT to Check it Out,
or read Sample Pages!
I found this beautiful photo of the famous statue of Jesus in Rio, on Amazing Things in the World Facebook Page!
Check it out!
I love 7 year-olds because they can get up and get their own breakfast,
they don’t wear diapers,
and conversations like this occur,
My Son: “Mom, why are some movies rated R?”
Me: (I’m thinking what I should say, how much to say, and how to say it)….
My Son: “Because they are very scary?”
Me: “Yes, because they can be very scary.”
Handel was 57 years old
when he wrote ‘Messiah’.
My New Year’s resolution this year was not about giving up anything. I always like to DO something as a resolution (giving things up also tends to involve a lot of will power).
So I decided January 1st that I would bury my sweat suits and dress a little nicer. And this turned out to be pretty darn easy because my sweat suits were my uniform: the gray one with a long sleeve t-shirt, the green one with a long sleeve t-shirt; you get the picture.
Since the first of the year I’ve been wearing khakis or jeans or a couple other pairs of nicer pants and you guessed it- long sleeve t-shirts. I’ve been feeling a lot more pulled together-
gee, go figure.
Then, I was talking to a friend of mine about make-up (the kind of friend who always looks like she just ‘threw something on’ from her fabulous wardrobe and is perfectly put together).
She joked that I had never seen her without make-up.
“Sure I have, you’re not wearing any now.”
“Yes, I am.”
Hmmm. I started thinking. Maybe I should start wearing a little powder or something. Maybe I could start off just trying to put on some make-up a few times a week…
So I did.
This doesn’t seem at first like it’s life-changing, but it is… just a little bit.
I always make sure my son looks nice and put together, and now I’m spending a few more minutes in the morning so I do too.
I was at the grocery store with jeans on, a relatively nice long sleeve shirt tucked in and make-up on. My hair was even down, not up in a clip.
All of a sudden I get that feeling that I’m being stared at and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up just a little. I look up from the Havarti I’m studying, to see the young woman behind the bakery counter staring at me. She’s staring at me intently… with squinted eyes.
I didn’t think much about it… maybe she needs glasses, thinks I’m someone else, etc.
Awhile later I had made my way over to the cereal aisle when I see the young woman from the bakery counter walking toward me with a smile on her face and she says, I kid you not,
“You look COMPLETELY different!”
The ‘completely’ really got me… Completely?
“You’re wearing make-up…”
“You look so pretty!”
Wow. That’s so nice… Then my mind goes into overdrive… Do I really look that different with make-up on?
That’s still nice… wait- how BAD was I looking without make-up?
How sweet of her… wow, I must have been looking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame every time I’ve come into this grocery store.
Still, what a nice compliment… I’ve been coming to this same store for 5 years, has everyone thought FOR 5 YEARS- ‘that woman should wear a little make-up’?
A second later, I started grinning as I walked down that cereal aisle. There was a compliment in there somewhere.
Beauty is only skin-deep, but looking better can help you feel a little better too.
And my New Year’s resolution is validated!
* I actually wrote this a while back for DC Metro Moms… I wear a little make up EVERY Day now…
It was this weekend. It was President’s Day Weekend…
I was pregnant! We were thrilled… But my HCG levels were low, so something wasn’t quite right.
I didn’t miscarry, as my doctor said I might, so I was hopeful that my pregnancy would get better. Then, Sunday evening I was cramping up so much that I wanted to call the doctor… but didn’t, at first.
I’ve survived another medical trauma at the start of my 20s, so I think of myself as tough.
Then a started to get a sharp pain under my right breast… so I called the doctor. I have since learned that this is, to quote reference books, ‘an ominous sign’ as it means blood is tracking up the abdominal cavity…
The on-call doctor called me back and immediately apologized for being happily distracted- his sister was in labor at the hospital. I told him about the pain, and he quickly suggested I send my husband out for Pepto-Bismol, and to wink, wink, ‘toughen up’.
So I did. And my husband did. And I took the Pepto-Bismol…
That night pain kept waking me up… and at about 6 in the morning my husband was jolted awake by a thud in the bathroom. He looked around and didn’t see me. He ran into the bathroom and I lay unconscious on the floor.
He called the doctor and got me to the nearest hospital. I was quickly wheeled into the sonogram room and after numerous attempts to find a baby, a doctor was called in and said, and I quote,
“All I can see is blood.”
Everything went quickly then. Orderlies were running with my stretcher. I was prepped in a hallway awaiting surgery, all the while, nurses covering me with heated blankets, because I was shivering so much from the loss of blood… 1,2,3,4,5 blankets were covering me and still I shook.
Ectopic means “out of place.” In an ectopic pregnancy, a fertilized egg has implanted outside the uterus. The egg settles in the fallopian tubes in more than 95% of ectopic pregnancies, as was my case. The fallopian tube does not have space or nurturing tissue as a uterus does, for a pregnancy. As the fetus grows, it will eventually burst the tube, which causes internal bleeding and eventually, if not treated, death. A classic ectopic pregnancy cannot develop into a live birth.
So there I was, bleeding internally, being wheeled into the OR. My husband had tears in his eyes and said only 3 words,
“DON’T LEAVE ME.”
I didn’t want to, but I was SO TIRED… not the kind of tired you feel when you need a good night’s sleep, I was exhausted. I felt like all the systems in my body were slowing down, slowly, slowing down…
And then I had a moment of clarity and it hit me, ‘This is BAD. I’m bleeding to death.’
They put me on the operating table, I remember HOW COLD I was. The nurse looked down at me and told me they would help me; she had beautiful blue eyes and the light was coming down around her face and I thought she looked like Mary. And I was comforted.
The anesthesiologist told me to count backward from 100, and I almost did. Then I stopped myself for only a moment, took all the strength I had left, and screamed inside my head,
“Please God, do not let me go out this way. I have fought too hard for life. Please, not this way.”
And I started counting- 100, 99, 98… fade to black.
A few days later, a few more little scares, and I was feeling pretty good- believe it or not. I was at home and relaxing, because I couldn’t do much else… and I was so grateful to be okay!
A couple more days went by and just for a moment I thought back to that ultrasound…
‘All I can see is blood’. And I started crying.
Then I wept. And I wept… for my baby, for my baby that never got a chance…
Almost 2 years later I delivered my healthy and happy son. He gives us such joy and he makes me laugh,
and sometimes I’m amazed by how wise he is beyond his years…
And on those occasions, I allow myself to believe that he is blessed with an extra little angel, who is always looking out for him.
* Trust your instincts. Get immediate medical attention if you are pregnant and in pain.
* Ectopic pregnancy is the leading cause of death for a mother in her first trimester of pregnancy.
Do you know that a Marathon is 26.2 miles long?
Yes, I know that too.
BUT– Do you know
WHY a Marathon is
26.2 miles long??
… We’re driving to dinner the other night and I see one of those oval stickers on the back of an SUV that says- ‘26.2’. And it got me thinking about marathons, so I ask my husband,
“Why are marathons 26.2 miles long? Why aren’t they 25 miles long, or just 26 miles long?” He thought about it for a minute and said,
“I think 26.2 miles is the distance from Marathon to Athens. I think a runner ran from the battle of Marathon all the way to Athens to tell people they won.”
I looked at my husband, he looked at me, our 6-year-old looked at us, we all looked at each other… with approval… and I replied,
“Well, if that’s NOT why marathons are 26.2 miles, that sounds like a REALLY GOOD ANSWER… I’d totally believe that.”
By this time, we’re all laughing and are set to Google it when we get home-
AND SURE ENOUGH- My Guy is right!
SO– marathons are 26.2 miles because that is the distance a soldier ran from the battle of Marathon to Athens, to tell of their victory…
Just another day here educating myself… and the world,
Talk amongst yourselves…
Filed under: Around DC, Home, Kindergartners, Life, Mom Victories, The Cool in Everyday Life
I have not ridden a bike since childhood.
There- I said it.
I’ve never been ‘big’ into bikes (don’t throw stones, you mountain-bike-weekend-trip-enthusiasts!!).
But it’s funny how life can change in an instant, with a whimsical choice…
Our family went down to Bethany Beach a few weeks ago, while at the very same time- my son had just taken his training wheels off his bike. I remembered that there was a bike rental shop right in the heart of Bethany and asked my son if he’d like to rent a 2-wheeler for the week, He LOVED the idea and in the next moment I decided that I would rent a bike, then my husband decided he would rent a bike too…
So we spent our Beach Week riding bikes as a family-
~A place I couldn’t imagine getting to in our lives back when I was cleaning up snot or vomit or changing diapers. We were ‘that family’, riding along, with the ocean breeze at our backs, that you glance at and think, ‘Isn’t that nice?!’
I enjoyed it so much that I thought about getting a bike at home. So then we packed up everything and drove back to ‘reality’ and left the beach behind. I arrived home to find a week’s worth of mail in our entry way, even though I had ‘stopped’ the mail… ‘Great’, I thought, as my son trounced through the catalogues and bills mangling up in a even bigger mess. I reached down to gather a first pile up and on the top of the pile was a flier from Performance Bicycles (where we got my son’s bike) announcing they were having a huge sale- that weekend… (karma ?!).
The next day we all went to the bike store and I bought the Schwinn ‘June’ Coaster Bike (with automatic shifting!) and I love it…
and I LOVE that my son and I are riding our bikes together.
You’ve come a long way, baby!