Angel of Mine

We all have seasons of our lives that our challenging. The last five months have definitely been that. I am not sure when it all will pass, but I do remain thankful for the many blessings I have and have had. One of those blessings is my grandmother who is my most favorite person in the world. Her health issues are progessing rapidly and we are all working through all of the emotions that come with that. I was thinking about her today and sat down to write this song/poem. I actually wrote it to a melody, but if you know me at all, you know I am not the best singer. So on paper it shall be...I love you grandma. This is for you.

We all talk of angels
Guiding from above
Watching over all of us
Bringing God’s comfort, joy and love


Well, I know an angel
Right here on this earth
She’s blessed me every day of life
Since my very birth


She’s an angel watching over
Comfort for my soul
She’s light in the darkness
Her love, it makes me whole

She has always been there
In every single way
Sharing all her wisdom
Ensuring things will be okay

She showed me what it means to care
She taught me how to love
Always there to listen
And point me to God above

She’s a voice of reason in the storms
And strength when I am weak
She’s love abounding freely
A friend to all she meets

She’s filled my life with joy
Inspired me as I’ve grown
Given herself to all around her
She’s the best I’ve ever known


I know one day she’ll be gone
And my heart will fill with pain

But joy will come in the morning

Because one thing will never change

She’ll be an angel watching over me

She’ll be comfort for my soul

She’ll be my light in the darkness

Her love will make me whole

On the Floor...

On the floor…is exactly where I found myself about two weeks ago. The bathroom floor, that is. And there sure wasn’t any dancing or new “J-lo-ration” like Jennifer Lopez sings. It was no party. I am proud to admit that I was a hot mess.


As many people know we have had five months of straight health issues for my daughter, the root cause of which still has yet to be determined. That child has been nauseous and fatigued for five months, has seen a gaggle of doctors and has been poked and prodded. Yet, we still have no answers. All things considered, I think her daddy and I have done quite well.

I am not going to lie. It is a roller coaster of emotions as we enter each day not knowing how she will feel, whether she will be able to go to school, what “plans” we will have to forego, and with uncertainty as to what we will uncover about her “condition”. Balancing life – our jobs, our household, our son’s needs, other commitments, and this health issue has been a huge challenge and often overwhelming. This is one of; if not the hardest, parenting time I have endured. My daughter asks me to help her, yet I am helpless and limited in what I can do for her. I feel scared, but she looks to her dad and I to show her what it means to trust, even when it is so very hard. I have no real answers and she has SO many questions. Behaviorally, she is all over the place and understandably so. Feeling like garbage is draining and frustrating for anyone, but especially a child. For us as parents, it adds another element to this challenging situation. We have no idea when or how this journey will end so we take it day by day and month by month. As positive and prayerful as we attempt to be, it is still so very draining and this mom spends a lot of time putting on the brave and happy face so that my daughter can remain strong and hopeful.

So there I was about two weeks ago, already feeling overwhelmed with all things Natalie, when I got some very devastating unrelated news. While I am not at liberty to share the specifics publicly at this point, I will say that receiving the news was like a punch to the stomach and a fracture to the heart at the deepest level. The news was and still is very difficult for our entire family. Sharing it with my son and watching him (he who never cries) sob for 45 minutes, while I was still struggling significantly with the news myself, about killed me. And then came more drama and I just lost it. Apparently, I have a limit and boy, did I find it. It was like a dam broke. The flood gates opened…

I headed into the bathroom, closed the door and had a full blown meltdown all on the bathroom floor. It was like an event. Let me tell there was nothing pretty about it. People make reference to the “ugly cry” – yeah, I had that mastered. For at least 45 minutes, I sobbed and dry-heaved, almost hyperventilating multiple times. It was pretty awesome and went on and on and on. I could not stop and, you know, I really didn’t have to. I was by myself just unleashing all that was within.

As painful as it was, it was so very freeing and cleansing. Everything poured out and then poured out some more. All of my fears, frustrations, anger, and sadness were released. I was a disaster and yet there was something quite beautiful about that. It was just me, my bathroom, and my God having a session – a very intense session, a much needed time of surrender. There was no distraction, no external noise. There was no struggle for control or need to put on a brave face for my daughter. I just let go...

And, when I was done, (and in need of much rehydration), I honestly felt so much better. Nothing had changed. Everything was still a mess, but a mess with a renewed perspective. In fact, there are a lot of lessons and reminders one can glean from time on the bathroom floor. Here are a few of mine:

- I have a great big God who says, “I’ve got this” AND “I’ve got you, too”.

- Sometimes you just have to be patient and participate in the journey.

- Every day is a blessing, even the difficult ones.

- Sometimes you may disappoint people and that is okay.

- I cannot handle it all and am not meant to.

- Sometimes being strong means giving into your weakness.

- Truly loving others means seeing past any issues and conflicts and into their hearts.

- And…I should really clean my bathroom floor more often.

There is something to be said about lying on the bathroom floor in a pool of your tears. I can’t think of a more humble, surrendered position to be in. And while I wouldn’t want it to be part of my daily routine, I am thankful for that time I had on the floor. I think some time “on the floor” every now and then, as needed, could be in order. Perhaps, I should write a new version of J-Lo’s “On the Floor” as a tribute to bathroom floor meltdowns and post it to “You-Tube”...

A Day to Treasure

Being on an ocean beach, is amazing - the sounds, the smells,  the sights, the feeling...I love everything about it. You might say it is my "happy place" but really it is so much more than that. It is a place of peace and refuge for me, my calm no matter what internal storm is brewing. It is a source of release, reflection and meditation. It is divine and healing. This has never been so evident

as last week.

Since Thanksgiving, our world has centered on my daughter, Natalie and her inexplicable health issues. Our days (and sometimes nights) have been consumed with managing or assessing her symptoms, consulting with doctors, taking her for tests, tests, and more tests, researching possibilities, periodically sleeping at the hospital, praying and waiting - lots and lots of waiting, wondering, and hoping for answers.

From Endocrine to Neurology to Metabolic Specialists to GI, we have been making the rounds. We still have no real answers. Every negative test result is met with mixed feelings. You don't want something to be wrong with your child, but when you already know something is, you just want to know what that IT is.

Last Monday, I would say that I finally hit my breaking point. Honestly, I can't even describe the feeling. And as we finished a particularly long and sobering doctor's appt on Tuesday, I was just done. Upon leaving, Mike asked me how I felt. My response, "I just need to see the ocean". It honestly wasn't a want. I needed to go. I needed to feel the sand on my feet, and see the crashing waves. I needed the fresh, cleansing sea air. I needed to see that mighty, never-ending ocean that embodies the awe-inspiring, amazing, and intricate nature of God's design. I needed to be reminded that no matter what we find, it is all in His hands.

So we went. All five of us, Mike, Kyle, Natalie, Elliot (the dog) and myself. And it was AMAZING! A day we will not soon forget. Words cannot express what that did for all of us. When I got to the water, I cried. It sounds ridiculous, but I did and it felt fantastic. I just let go. I let go of all that I had been trying to hold in and hold on to. It was so freeing.

Natalie squealed with delight and played with an abandon that I have not seen for 3 1/2 months. The joy in her eyes and the bounce in her step were so awesome to watch.

She had even snuck her bathing suit on under her clothes so she could "swim". I didn't even care. It was so good to see my daughter again, fearless, fun loving, and free! I had not seen this side of my child in so long.

The day was so simple. A drive to the coast, a quick lunch, a mere two hours at the beach, and then the ride home…but it didn't matter. It was so needed - not just for me - but for all of us, much more than we had realized. It allowed us to escape and connect. It was priceless, a time to be treasured with our family.

As I type this, we still do not have the answers or know where this journey will end. We are awaiting the results of her second round of metabolic tests today.
If they are negative or inconclusive, we will be
moving on to an endoscopy and a consult with a Pediatric Oncologist/ Hematologist. I do not know God's plan for all of this, but I feel blessed to be

Natalie’s mom through all of it. And when I start to spin, I think of last week on the beach, my peace is restored. I know it will all be okay.

 

You May Say I'm a Dreamer...

I haven't blogged for a while and that definitely isn't because I haven't had anything to say:). I have probably written a hundred in my mind, but none have made it to print. Today, however, I feel compelled to write.

Tomorrow is the anniversary of September 11th. My son came home with a September 11th related assignment last week. He had to interview a parent about the memories and thoughts they have from that day. Once I was able to move past the realization that I am now at an age where I provide perspective on historical events, I sat down with him and we had our discussion.

There are many things I remember about that day, including where I was and how I felt. My most vivid memories, however, are more about how life was in the period that followed. In the days and weeks that followed 9/11, I was in awe of the differences I saw in humanity. I remember going to a candlelight vigil and witnessing so many people from all walks of life showing compassion for each other. People were comforting strangers, moving past any judgements and biases. Even at the store, people were a little more patient, tolerant, and forgiving. Families came together. The event shifted our priorities and exposed our vulnerabilities. I think there was such beauty in that. Life was not about "things". It was about living life, giving grace, loving others, and appreciating all that we have and take for granted. It was the essence of how I think we were created to be.

My husband says I am an idealist, a dreamer. I struggle with the notion that being an idealist is a bad thing. I believe in people. I believe in possibilities.  I am not naive, rather I choose to look for the best in others and hope for what can be. I try to do my part.

I have trouble understanding why a tragic event is necessary to bring out the best in all of us, only to have us revert back to old ways as time passes. Is that front row parking spot really worth a cursing match? Is it necessary to spew hate and condemnation toward or about those who disagree with you?

If we took more of what was displaying in the weeks following 9/11 and incorporated those into our daily lives, it would honor those who perished. We can take what we learned, the glimpses of amazing unity that we saw, and live our lives as a tribute.

I will never forget the images from that day. I forever mourn for those that died, the innocent men, women, and children. But...I refuse to look on it with anger or allow it to fuel my resentments, Instead, I think about that small taste of "Pleasantville" that enveloped our country in the weeks that followed and remain hopeful for what can be.

The April Blues

Today was the first day back at school after a great Spring Break with my family. As I was preparing for my return last night, I felt a very deep sadness come over me. This sadness did not stem from the fact that our break was over and I was headed back to work. Instead, it came with the realization that there are only 2 months left of the school year. Two very busy months –that will fly by! I felt sad knowing my time with these 23 amazing kids will soon come to an end. What can I say? I love them. They are individuals with their own unique gifts, quirks, and personalities. Together, they make an awesome class. Each of them has taken a piece of my heart. It is hard to imagine not spending my days with them.


Along with the sadness, came a sense of panic. I was asking myself, “How much of what I want and have planned to teach them, has been completed? What needs to happen in this next two months? Will they have time to learn all that I want them to know?”

As a teacher, there is a vast amount of material that you are required to teach your students. Because of the limited time and days, you have to prioritize. I have a mental list of what I feel is most important. Math, for example, is critical. At this level, they are still learning basic skills that they will be able to incorporate into their everyday lives as they grow. It is also part of laying the foundation for higher level math that they will be presented with in the coming years. Grammar, while my least favorite subject to teach, is integral to their success in communicating with and understanding written material. In 4th grade, we are immersed in California history throughout the entire school year. Many people fail to see the significance of this particular subject area. I, however, think it is SO valuable to my 4th graders. So much transferable knowledge can be gained as we examine where we have come from as a state (and country) and how we have arrived at the current place we are in. They get to grapple with moral and ethical issues, while developing their critical thinking skills. They are able to see that life is complex and that there are at least two sides to every story.

I could go on and on about the curriculum and its importance, but interestingly enough this was not the area that came to mind in my panic-stricken state. The things I most want them to know and take with them aren’t found in the textbooks and annual lesson plans. They are contained within our discussions and our experiences together. They are heart lessons that I believe are vital for every student to take hold of, whether home-schooled, “private-schooled” or “public-schooled”. I want EVERY child to grab a hold of these things and carry them forward into their lives. More than how to divide, identify a verb phrase, or recite the date the Gold Rush started, these are some of the lessons I want my students to take with them from 4th grade.

- YOU matter. You are important and special in this world and always will be.
- You were wonderfully made to do great things. God didn’t create you to be someone else. He wants you to be the best YOU that you can be.

- You are loved beyond measure.

- Everyone makes mistakes. What is important is that you learn from them.

- You always have a choice. And…with choices come related consequences.

- You should always look for the good in others and treat them with kindness.

- Words are powerful. Being able to communicate with others is a gift, use it for good.

- Doing the right thing is rarely the easy thing. There may be times you have to stand alone to stay true to what you know in your heart is right.

- You should always forgive others. When you forgive someone, you aren’t releasing them from  responsibility. You are setting yourself free. Holding on to anger hurts you more than it hurts others.

- You are never too young to make a difference in this world.

- Everyone is unique, each with different talents, skills, strengths, and weaknesses. Never discount someone as insignificant or inferior.

- You will come across things in school that are difficult. Don’t give up! It is during these times when you truly learn.

- There will be times when you fail. It’s okay. You aren’t called to be perfect. That’s Jesus’ job:).

- God never leaves. He is always with you. There is never a day that goes by when you are alone.

It is my hope that, as the year comes to a close, these seeds have been planted in the hearts of my students. As 4th graders, they are already such amazing people with tremendous potential. Knowing that we will part ways in less than two months pains me, but I am so excited to see them grow into who they have been created to be.

(Post actually written on 4/5)

There is more than one way to find your happy place…

If you had told me I would be lying next to the ocean by the end of today, I would have said you were crazy. That is, however, exactly what happened.

My day started early, 12:30am early. That is when the nausea and pain in my stomach awoke me. It was my friend for the rest of the night and needless to say, I was less than enthused when my alarm began buzzing at 6:00. Getting out of bed, I ached from head to toe and still was plagued with nausea. Apparently, this was the result of a super special “bug” my students gave me. Because being sick and missing school really isn’t an option for me right now, I loaded up on many over the counter medicines, swallowed anti-nausea meds, and headed out the door.

I am ashamed to say that my next stop was not school – it was, in fact, Starbucks. Normally this would not be an issue, but I have been engaged in a 21 day fast from coffee and soda. Today was only day 12…

Armed with my sin in a cup, I ventured off to school where I was barraged with questions by my students about the coffee. You see, I had spent quite a bit of time educating them on what it means to fast and explaining the reason for the fast. Today, I spent quite a bit of time, convincing them that drinking this one coffee was okay. I did it for them – so they would have a functional, nice teacher instead of an evil, crabby one. Not surprisingly, they all gave me their full support and I promised to tack a day on at the end to make up for this one. I could consider this coffee a failure, but I much prefer to consider it survival.

Survive I did…the morning actually went well. And then it happened, the drugs started wearing off just as my students began winding up. If you have ever been in a classroom full of kids who have been stuck inside for a multitude of rainy days (especially on a Friday afternoon), you know it is not a place lacking in volume or energy.

I did not want to try and teach Social Studies as I had planned. Did they really need to know how California became a state before this weekend? I thought not. I wanted to go to my happy place.

I actually have several happy places. One of my most happy places is the ocean – not in it – just next to it. I love it. Since going to the ocean right at that moment was not actually going to happen, I decided to bring it to me. In a moment of brilliance, the desire for my happy place gave me the perfect activity for the afternoon.

It just so happens that we are starting an Oceanography unit in the good ol’ 4th grade and today I told my students to create me an ocean!

With some construction paper, glue, markers, tape, and whatever else they could get their little paws on, that is exactly what they did. They eagerly went through their Science chapter, examining what creatures we would need to have represented and created their little hearts out. From sand dollars to squids, from sharks to starfish, from jellyfish to plankton and kelp, they cut and colored and crafted creature after creature. They were reading in their book to gain more information about the creatures as they made them and instructing me as to where they should be placed (near the bottom of the sea, near the top, in kelp, etc). They also decided to use tan construction paper for sand. It was such a blast for me to see how into it they were.

With stapler in hand, I took their creations and put them in place. I then covered everything in blue cellophane (that I just happened to have left over from a prior project) to make everything look under water.

My ocean, okay “our ocean”, turned out great and they were so excited and proud of their handiwork. They didn’t even mind the enormous amount of cleanup that was required.

It was such a blast for me to see how into this impromptu activity they were. I actually forgot how crappy I felt. And as I found myself relaxing on my classroom floor at the end of the day looking at the swimming swordfish and crawling crustaceans, I realized that I had been in one of my happy places the whole time – my classroom with my 23 kids. It is one of my most favorite places to be. It just so happens that I got to be in two of my happy places today – the classroom AND right next to the ocean. I feel pretty blessed.

Don’t make me lose it…Control...

Ah…life is never dull. For Christmas this year, I got some pain -Pain that started on the lower right side of my back and then generously spread to the lower right abdominal area. Really, really bad pain that got worse and worse with each passing day. I waited a few weeks to see if it resolved on its own, but no such luck. The pain progressed each day, worsened with activity, and soon was accompanied by intermittent waves of intense nausea and vomiting.

Convinced I had an ovarian cyst, I went to the OB/GYN for an ultrasound. I was more than surprised to learn that my ultrasound was normal. I was also devastated as that meant I had no clue as to what was wrong. I had what can best be described as a full meltdown. Then, I put on my big girl panties, and with some help from Mike, put a plan in place to get this diagnosis train moving.

The next day, 1/22, I had an emergency CT scan. The CT scan showed that my appendix looked abnormal though not indicative of appendicitis, especially given that I had been in pain for weeks. I was ordered to go straight back to the doctor’s office. Unsure of how to proceed with everything, my doctor referred me to a surgeon, one who had operated on me previously. On Tuesday, January 26th, I met with the surgeon who advised me that she really had no clue why I was in so much pain. She told me that my appendix looked funky and, though not emergent, something must be up with it as it just didn’t look normal. She talked with me about scheduling surgery and advised that it would likely require a vertical abdominal incision. Surgery meant anywhere from 2 to 6 weeks away from my class…there was also no guarantee that it would take care of my pain.

The next day at 3:30pm, I met with my principal, discussed the meeting with the doctor, and I laid out my desired plans for this surgery. MY plans included surgery to be scheduled a couple of weeks out, with plenty of time to write detailed lesson plans, talk through it all with my students, meet with my substitute, straighten my classroom…the list goes on. Less than 24 hours after that I was in the ER, 3 hours later I was on the operating table. So much for MY plan…

On Thursday (1/28), I felt like hell all day. I woke up nauseous and it never went away. Around 1:00, I felt like I was going to be sick, and left my classroom in the care of another teacher, while I darted to the bathroom. The next time I would see my class was one week later…Once in bathroom, I was more than sick. I was weak, tingly, faint, and in pain with nausea so overwhelming I could barely stand it. In fact, I really couldn’t stand or walk very well at all. I was basically stuck in the bathroom. If I yelled, I would alarm the students. I literally used the walls and tables in the hall to get to the door of the nearest classroom and poked my head inside to get the attention of a teacher (and dear friend) and then clawed my way back to the bathroom. After that, it was pretty much a scene. The students were ushered into another room so I could be helped into my room without them knowing what was going on. Phone calls were made to administration, my husband, and who knows who else. I knew I was headed to the ER and was clear that if anyone called an ambulance, I would refuse.

As I sat there waiting to be taken to the ER, it all hit me. I was not going to be able to make a single plan come to fruition. I knew I was going to end up in surgery that day. My classroom was a mess. I had no lesson plans written. I had no idea who was going to pick my kids up from school. I had no idea if and when Mike was going to get relieved from the ICU (he is a nurse) to meet me at the hospital. I could not walk without assistance and had no control over my body. I had no idea whether I was going to be out 2 or 6 weeks. I had no idea what the surgeon would find. I literally did not have control over a single thing in my life at that moment. It was the worst feeling ever. It was horrible. It was the most difficult moment, yet it became one of the most freeing moments I have ever experienced. I had no choice but to surrender it all. There was literally nothing I could do, but trust that God would take care of it all.

After being helped to the car by an army of people, I was taken to the hospital by my dear friend, Ashly. My surgeon met me there as did my sister, my husband, and my Darcy. At around seven o’clock that night I had surgery. Much to her surprise, the doctor was able to complete everything in a laparoscopic procedure, removing my appendix and gallbladder. With that, she was not sure if she had resolved my pain as the appendix, while abnormal, showed no signs of appendicitis.

Two weeks later, my pain is gone. The pathology on my appendix came back and it was, in fact, full on acute appendicitis. The doctor was stunned and elated that she had removed it. I was so thankful that I have doctors who go with their gut instinct instead of relying solely on textbook medicine. I had no fever or abnormal white count. My pain was slightly to the left of where it should be for appendicitis. I had pain for weeks. None of this is consistent with appendicitis. If the doctor had chosen to wait, my appendix would have ruptured at some point.

I am so thankful for the immense pain I had for those few weeks. It quite possibly saved my life. I am also thankful to have had the opportunity to experience a full and complete surrender of control. It was an amazing thing. I am so blessed to have amazing friends that I work with everyday that were there for me that Thursday at school and carried the burdens when I was gone. As I reflect back on this entire experience, it is clear God’s hand was all over it – in the big details as well as the seemingly insignificant ones.

Not being one to let this little episode steal my joy, I also laugh when I think of all of the funny things that occurred along the way…

…Stacy holding me in the chair, literally, so I could complete a call to Mike to let him know what was going on
…Watching Ashly, my beloved germ-o-phobe, sanitize her hands more times than I can count during our time together at the hospital

…Convincing the ER doctor at Sutter Memorial to let Ashly drive me over to Sutter General to be admitted there instead of taking an ambulance. I went wearing a hospital gown, 2 blankets, a barf bucket, and an IV still on.

…Listening to my intake nurse at Sutter General who sounded EXACTLY like Anjelah Johnson in the nail salon video on YouTube. You got flu shot?

…Having Darcy call me her little hollow chocolate Easter bunny for the first time (as I am seriously lacking in internal organs now)

I could go on and on…it really was a funny day. Even though this is long, there is so much I left out.

I have no complaints. God is good.