Wrapping up the year . . .

As we come to the end of another year, like many I know, I have grown reflective about what has happened during the course of the last 364 days. It has been a year of medical issues (so very thankful everyone is okay now), a year of change (I entered the dating world? How did that happen?), a year of gifts (time spent with loved ones), and a mystery.

Yes, a mystery . . .

About a month ago, I realized Christmas was rapidly approaching. This happened when my Mom called and asked, “What do the children want for Christmas? What do YOU want for Christmas?” Every year this conversation happens. It usually takes place in November, when the serious shopping and wrapping needs to take place. Thankfully, the children are still young enough, they usually create a list, that is easy to share with Mom. A list really makes our lives easier! As for me, the answer is usually, “well, hmmmm, I don’t really know. There is nothing I can really think of that I need. Whatever you find, I know I will love Mom.” Admittedly, I am a pain in the a** when it comes to stuff like this. Pretty sure my Mom won’t argue that point. It boils down to this, I used to be like my crew, and I would have a really long list of everything I absolutely had to have in order to keep going, but now as an adult, I really don’t like asking for things.

However . . . this year was different! When Mom asked the question, that I usually don’t have an answer for, I was prepared! The conversation went something like this:

Mom: Honey, what do you want for Christmas this year?

Me: This year I would really like a Garmin.

Mom: A what?

Me: A Garmin. It’s like a Fitbit, you know the things that count your steps and such, but I would prefer to have a Garmin. You can find them at just about any store, just like the Fitbit. I would wear it like a watch.

Mom: Okay then! A gift idea (I’m pretty sure there was a sigh of relief at this point that I had an answer!)

About a week later, on a Wednesday, as my panic of what am I getting my children for Christmas was kicking in, I was using the fabulous world of the internet to place some orders. My Mom called to discuss my Christmas gift. She wanted to make sure she had the correct information about what kind of Garmin I wanted. She had already been to five different stores, and all of them were sold out at the time! So I opened a new window to the internet to look up the exact one I wanted. I didn’t want to lose the items in “my cart” that contained Christmas gifts for my crew. After a detailed discussion, Mom apologized that it wouldn’t be much of a surprise for a Christmas gift, but she would make sure she had the correct item for me. I’m pretty sure I told her that would be okay, I was going to be thankful for the gift! We ended the conversation with me telling her, I really should finish placing the order I had open for my crew. I completed the order shortly after we said our love you, and talk to you later.

Fast forward to Monday. A box arrived from the store that I had used to place the order for the children. Because I was working, and because my children are always with me, the box sat, unopened until Wednesday. After everyone went to bed, I finally seized the moment to open the box to check that all three of the items I ordered were there, and that they were the correct ones.

When I opened the box, and took out the filler pieces of air, I had a moment, of “What in the world . . . “ Then a moment of, “what did I order?”

There, sitting on top of the three items I ordered, was a Garmin. Not just any one either, but the one I had told my Mom about. The one that I specifically wanted. I wondered if I had accidentally ordered it, so I pulled out the packing slip to see. There on the packing slip, the list only included three items. Not one of them was a Garmin. I turned on the computer and checked my online order. Only the three items for the crew were listed. What in the world had happened?

I called Mom. Talk about throwing someone for a loop . . . she had just found what I wanted about two hours prior to my phone call! She still had it in the car with her. We agreed, it’s just weird. Why would the only thing I asked for show up in this box?

I called a friend. I was in a bit of shock. We agreed, it was odd as to why would the only thing I asked for show up in this box? I said, I am definitely calling the store. In good conscious, I can’t just keep this.

I thought about it all day Thursday.

On Friday, I called the customer service line. I explained to the lovely woman, the entire story. I said this is the only thing that I have asked for, for Christmas this year. I told her about looking up the information for my Mom while I was placing the order, but looked on a different web site. She pulled up all the orders for all the Amy Deckers (there are quite a few of us as it turns out), and not one of them had placed an order for a Garmin that I might have received by mistake.

She then asked me, who else knew what you wanted for Christmas? Did your husband know? Maybe he ordered it, and had them add it to your order?

I took a deep breath.

I said well, actually, he passed away three years ago.

I could hear her indrawn breath. Followed, by the words, I am so very sorry.

We were both silent for a moment.

Then she said, Amy, here’s the thing. I can’t find anything here on the computer as to why you mysteriously received the only thing you asked for, in the box of items for your children. What I do know, is you have a Guardian Angel looking out for you, and you are going to keep the gift. I hope you have a blessed Christmas.

So here I am at the end of the year, pondering what has happened this year, the good, the bad, the odd . . . 

What are you thinking about as the year comes to a close?

Mother Knows Best (a slightly cautionary tale)

Mother knows best.

It’s true.

So children . . . listen to your Mom. She knows what to do . . .

It all began with a request from me to my son. Seeing as we are limping our way to the end of the school year, our home has fallen into disarray. There are books, binders, shoes, sports equipment, dolls, and bicycles, and that is just in our living room. There are dirty bathrooms, messy bedrooms, and piles of laundry that need to be washed. In other words, it looks the same as it has for most of the school year, but today it bothered me more than usual. I decided that it was time to get to work on finding a clean house under the mess, which meant that I assigned tasks to the children to complete. My son’s task was to clean the toilets.

Scrubbing toilets. Yes, it is the most disagreeable chore to be assigned. Which is why, technically he had fewer chores to do. I’m not that mean of a mom. But I digress.

The good child that he is, he knew the sooner he completed the chore, the sooner I would stop nagging him to get to work. He decided to begin in the master bathroom. I was avoiding my chores, by sitting on the stairs and looking at facebook for a few minutes. I heard N squeezing the bottle of toilet bowl cleaner, and knew he had run out of it before he came out of the bathroom. I directed him to the other bathroom, letting him know there was another bottle of cleaner there. (Don’t you all find it easier for each bathroom to have it’s own cleaning supplies? Or is it just me?) Since he walks with the grace of an elephant I heard him moving from one room to the other. I heard the next bottle of cleaner signaling it was also empty. The toilet flushed a few seconds later, as he came hurrying downstairs . . . . “MOOOOMMM!?”

“What? There is no way the toilet is clean if you just put the cleaner in it and flush. You do realize that don’t you?”

“Um, yes I do know that. But Mom, I may have mixed bleach and ammonia together, and that is not good.”

“You WHAT?!”

At this point, I usher all of the children outside, I opened all of the windows in the house from the top, turned on the bathroom exhaust fan, and flushed the toilet one more time for good measure. I also grabbed the two bottles of cleaners he had used, and carried them outside. Looking at them, I realized he had used two different brands of cleaners. One did indeed have bleach as it’s main germ killing ingredient. The second brand had the active ingredient of hydrochloric acid.

Now I know I was not a Chemistry major. I also know that I don’t recall much from that class either. But, what I do know, is that mixing the two chemicals of bleach, and hydrochloric acid is not a good idea. To confirm, I even checked Google. Yep, as I suspected, my child had just created chlorine gas in the toilet. (It takes gas to a whole new level . . .)

The good news for us, was that we needed to leave the house for awhile anyway. We were away for about an hour, leaving all of the windows open, fans running, and the a/c was turned off. It was when we came home that my sweet boy was looking at the windows of the house, and then looks at me, and says, “You know mom, you really should have opened the windows from the bottom. Chlorine gas sinks. It’s why it was used as a chemical warfare agent in the First World War . . . it would sink into the trenches.”

Thank you son for the history lesson, as I went into the house and opened all of the windows from the bottom. I went ahead and told the crew to just stay on the back deck for a bit. I needed to run to the store up the street to get a few items, and it was best if they weren’t in the house. Seeing as it was a pleasant day, and they didn’t want to go with me to the store anyway, they agreed. I was in the car when I called my mom to tell her what had happened. Because, that is what I do, I call Mom. I know when I have a question, an issue, or just need to tell her “you are not going to believe what happened now” I can do that.

It was when I got to the “you are not going to believe what happened now” and I told her about the chlorine gas, that I could tell Mom was about to go into long distance panic mode. She calmly suggested that I call the non-emergency line for the fire department, so they could come check the house. Even Dad got on the phone for this one.

I reluctantly agreed to call . . . while eye rolling (which is safe to do, because they are 2000 miles away, and so far have never seen me eye rolling through the phone. Although Mom probably knew, cause she just knows things like that!)

Now mind you, I am sitting in a car, parked at the grocery store, Googling the non-emergency phone line for the fire department. When I call, I speak to a lovely woman who tells me I have reached dispatch. I confirm, I have indeed called the NON-EMERGENCY phone number, because, I know I do not have an emergency. She confirms. I tell her the story of my son cleaning the toilet with two different cleaners and how he has accidentally made chlorine gas. She asks if I would feel more comfortable if she sent someone out to check on the house. Thinking that if I call my Mom back and tell her no one came to check on the house for the children and I . . . well I didn’t want to think about that phone call. So I agreed. 

It is at this time, I realize, I am still parked in a car at the grocery store up the street, my children are sitting on the deck at home, I have just agreed to have firemen stop by the house, and the children know nothing about it. It was a good thing I had never actually turned off the car. It made it much easier to leave the parking lot. When I got home, the crew had brought food, drinks and the computer outside. It was as the words “there are firemen coming over to check on the house” came out of me, that we heard sirens. Full on sirens, and horns were getting closer by the moment. My children looked at me, and I looked at them, and hands up I said to them “I swear, I called the NON-EMERGENCY line! That cannot possibly be for us.”

I got the side-eye from all three of them. One child even knows how to raise one eye-brow to say without speaking, “seriously mom?”

I went out front to wait for the firemen.

Alone.

If the firemen had had a red fire truck, I may have blended in.

Bless the firemen. They were not annoyed that they had been called. They checked the house and gave us the all clear. We were all laughing by the time they left, and we waved our good-byes.

I called my Mom, telling her, laughingly, about the visit with the firemen. Jokingly pointing out it was her fault they came in the first place . . . for which I now stand corrected, because, really none of this would have happened if I hadn’t asked the boy to clean the toilet in the first place. Of course, being the wonderful Mom that she is, she also made sure to ask, “so, did you at least find out if any of the firemen are single?”

“MOMMMMM!?!”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Mom.”

Remembering to Breathe

There are some weeks that when I reach Saturday morning, I think . . . did all of that just really happen? Was that really just one week of my life? Because I am pretty sure that it felt like we fit in a month worth of events into one week. This is one of those Saturday mornings. The children are asleep. A second load of laundry has been started. I’ve already dropped off coffee for the Boy Scout group that is delivering mulch. I finally have a cup of coffee rapidly cooling next to me. It’s a rather contemplative morning, as I sit here and think, what in the sam hell just happened? 

On the short story side, this week has included three dentist, one orthodontist, and four doctor appointments. It has also included one trip to the ER and two ultrasounds. On a positive note, everyone seems to be doing okay!

The week began on a high note. I received an email letting me know that I was selected to be part of a group to help launch a new book by Jen Hatmaker called “For the Love, Fighting for Grace in a World of Impossible Standards.” In my free time this week, I began reading it, (admittedly, I haven’t gotten through the entire book yet!) and I’m pretty sure there is some kind of divine intervention for me to be reading this book at this time, and to be part of a bigger group that makes up the launch team. But all of that will have to wait for another post!

The week progressed (is that really the best word for the week?!) from there. Monday, the oldest was in a bit of pain, but insisted all was really okay. Advil seemed to be helping. By Tuesday night the pain had increased, and had spread. Even though we both dreaded it, we knew it was time for a trip to the ER.

This is where my brain wants to a) call my family and friends and tell them how wonderful they are, but it’s too early on a Saturday morning, I will let them sleep. And b) wants me to block images from my mind.

First the family and friends . . . I have to say I am blessed to have the family and friends that I have. I need to tell you all that I appreciate you, love you, and a tremendous thank you. I could not have made it this far in a journey of healing without the support of you all.

So returning to Tuesday night. I had exchanged a couple of text messages with a friend with happy St. Patrick’s Day wishes, when the oldest came downstairs letting me know it was time to go see someone about the pain. I texted back that I needed to go to the ER because of what was happening. Then called another friend to see if they could come stay with the girls. Bless my friend . . . the answer was, let me get some shoes on, and I’ll be right there. It was of course well after 9:00 pm, because  isn’t that always when things go sideways?!

So we made it to the ER without incident, so to speak. The problem, for me, began upon arrival. Mentally I HATE going to the ER. (Doesn’t everyone?!) Especially the one that is closest to our home. Because it was at that ER where I have had some of the most traumatizing events of my life play out. But it is the closest ER to our home, so it is common sense to go to that one. Upon arrival, I started to worry about whether a teenager was considered an adult or could still go to the pediatric side. Thankfully we could still go to the pediatric side. I could avoid the adult side where I last saw Chris. My blood pressure seemed to be headed back to a normal rate.

As we sat waiting for the doctor, my friend texted to make sure that I was doing okay, knowing that a trip to the ER was not easy for me. Bless my friend for being a lifeline on the other end of the texting. Shortly after the doctor came in, it was determined that an ultrasound was needed. This meant we had to head to the radiology department in the hospital.

This meant that we had to walk down the hall through the adult side of the ER.

This meant we had to walk by the room where I last saw Chris.

This meant that we walked past a group of firemen and police officers that were standing outside of that room.

This looked, in my mind, just like the last time I walked by that room.

I thought I might faint.

Thought my heart was going to come out of my chest.

Thought about sitting on the floor, right there in the middle of everything and crying.

But these were not viable options. There was no one to catch me if I fainted (they were all busy). My heart was not really going to pop out of my chest. Crying in the middle of everything would not have solved a damn thing.

Most important, my child needed me. This was not the time for me to wrestle with the demons and images I have carried in my mind for two years. This was a time to make sure my child was okay.

When we made it to the radiology department, I was given a few moments to sit down. The technician was speaking with my child, who I have to say is really an amazing patient. I love the fact that all of my children know how to talk to adults, and let them know what is happening inside their bodies when something is wrong. It was during that moment, as I sat shaking in the chair, because that is my body’s way of coping with stress, that I dumped all my thoughts and feelings into a series of texts to my friend. A lifeline to someone who understands pain and loss, and with the good sense, texted me back, reminding me to close my eyes, and breathe.

I’ve spent a lot of time this week remembering to breathe.

It really can be as simple as that.

To make it through any situation, I just need to remember to breathe.

A "guest blogger"

As many of you know, the children and I occasionally have interesting dinner conversations. Some nights we discuss what was in the news. Tonight that was the depressing news of Boko Haram and ISIS. Other nights we discuss the mundane of what the upcoming schedule for the week is. Those discussions are really just to make sure I know where I am driving everyone and at what times. Then there are the kind of nights, like last week, where I asked the children how their day at school was.

Well, one child in particular was quite excited about their day last week. We heard about the ENTIRE day. But it was when the child got to the part about a quiz that was taken that day that I just knew I was in trouble. The child explained that they just knew they aced the history quiz, because of what they wrote. With excitement I was told the answer written began with “Once upon a time . . . “ and then the rest was told to me. As an adult who can admit that I took school way too seriously, the fact that the answer began with once upon a time shook me to the very core. As the rest of the answer was given, my head fell into my hands, and I just had this feeling the school was going to call me to tell me that my child needs to take school more seriously. In my mind I was definitely losing parenting points. I also wasn’t sure that I fully believed the answer that I was hearing. So I told my child that I wanted to see this quiz when it was returned.

The quiz has made its way home now. Let’s just say, that all teachers deserve a raise. Especially the teachers, that teach my children.

So now my friends, I present to you the question, and the answer that my child (aka my guest blogger) gave as written (I would scan it, but I’ve been fighting with my scanner):

Question:

“When laws are written in any of the 50 state’s constitutions they must follow certain lawmaking process steps. What are the lawmaking steps and why is it important for the states to be specific with the laws and pay very close attention the detail when writing them?”

Answer:

            Once upon a time, there was a bill, and his name was Bill. Now this bill was unhappy, because mothers of bills aren’t very creative with names, so everyone was named Bill. He wanted to be called Law, and the only way to do this was to go through the VA legislature.

            He went to Richmond, where he was introduced first in the House of Delegates, and then at the annual debutantes ball (which offended him, as he wasn’t a girl.) He next went to the committee of obfuscation and delay. It took a very long time to get through, so he gave everyone gifts of gold, frankincense, and crab legs, with the explanation of preventing shoplifting quarterbacks from screwing up your betting. Each of them said thank you, and that it will help them pick up ladies. So naturally, they sent him along into debate into the house, where he doled out more gifts. He was promptly voted upon, and he won!

            The same process repeated in the Senate. After he won again, he was sent to the governor, and the governor took a look at him and said,

            “No!”

            So Bill said, “I’ll bribe you!”

            “I’m not stupid! If I take bribes, competent people punish me, not my fellow delegates!”

            So Bill had to go away, and so he went to Canada, where Bills roam, and some are called Billy, and the hippies are called Bill E. Goat, but mostly, Bill, eh!

                                                The End.

I'm happy this was a short answer response quiz. I wonder what would be written if there was a long answer response quiz?