The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day's

Let me set the scene for you:

Last night, I (Karly) had enough of having to cover my ears anytime I could see a loud noise coming, it HURT anytime one of the boys screamed, screeched, threw a toy, clapped, etc.... So I decided to tell Jamie that my ears really, really hurt. Hanna had shone a flashlight in them to see if she could tell what it was, nothing. She is not a medecine woman no matter how convincinly she tells you she is, she is not. So I went to the little urgent care/doctors office we have here and it was determined that I have a double ear infection. Oh yippeee.

Move forward into later that evening, Jack all of a sudden has a high fever, is super fussy, and cried so hard he vomited. Another yippeee!!! Not.

While that is happening Jamie determined that our washing machine is indeed pooped and we need to replace it. It's in bits and peices covering our kitchen.

Fast forward to this morning. Thursday. I'm wiped from the night before, Jack is still sick and I'm debating whether he needs to go to the doctor or not. Me and Toby were playing a racing game and off Toby goes, runs into their bedroom where Jack was standing by their bookshelf, picking out a book. I can only assume that Toby ran straight into him, and knocked him into their bookshelf edge. I heard instant screaming, and ran to see Toby's freaked out face and Jack's forehead gushing blood.

I scoop Jack up, run to grab a damp (clean) cloth, press it onto the wound, and hoping that it was the right thing to do. I grabbed my phone, called Jamie and tried telling him to rush home, that Jack needs to see a doctor asap...while he is screaming in my arms, and into the phone.

Jamie made record time coming home, and we decided that he should stay home with Toby, finish giving him his lunch, and keep him out of the way of the doctors. By this time Jack is acting like nothing happened. He's annoyed that I keep wiping his head, but he's just wanting to run around and play. Jamie and I think he's gone crazy and call him a man. He is not a baby anymore, but a man. Tough as nails.

So I then rushed down to the same urgent care that I was at the night before, and as soon as the front desk lady saw him she grabbed her little intercom and announced "IC come to the front desk immediately!" Thankful for the quick help, but my nerves were the least bit thankful for that one. So we got in our room and was given a very sweet woman, but one who lacked some decision making skills. The first thing she said was "He needs stitches." She left, I called Jamie to tell him and he asked why wouldn't a butterfly bandaid work. So I asked her when she can back in, she said "Great, that will work. I'm thankful you called your husband." Ummm....ok. The nurse cleaned it out and it looked a LOT deeper than I had thought it was, so I questioned the doctor if a butterfly bandaid would really work. She said "Oh yeah, it will" and left the room. When she came back in she said she changed her mind and thinks stitches would be better. Wow, alright lady way to be decisive and confident. I was a little more than freaked out. Does she know what she's doing?

We all talked about the best way to keep him laying still and without getting his hands/legs in the way. So swaddling him seemed like the best option at the time. Don't forget this little guy already has a fever and then we (stupidly) wrapped a blanket tightly around him. A nurse was standing at the head of the hospital bed holding his head still, and I was asked to then sit on top of him (he was moving a LOT) to keep him still. So here I am, straddling my screaming, sweating, crying, scared baby and pinning him to the bed so the doctor could put a needle in his head. That sounds pretty messed up, doesn't it? It was horrible, that's all I can say. His pleading, scared eyes pleading at me to help, do something mommy! And I just held him there, and tried comforting him with my words (which he couldn't hear because of his screaming)...the worst feeling, ever. BUT, it didn't last that long. They got him all stitched up (I didn't even think to ask how many) and I finally could pull him into my arms. Poor guy, he just clung to me for dear life, and screamed whenever one of them came over to take a look at it or put the bandaid on.

He was a champ. I was not, I was a mess. I am still a mess. I HATE having one of my babies hurting. So thankful that the worst is behind us.

Real life. It's not always great and wonderful, but we can always handle whatever God gives us. Whenever Jamie or I are in a bad mood that won't go away, the other one always says "At least you're not dead and in Hell." It's been one of those kind of days, at least we're not dead and in Hell.

Jack's Vocabulary

The kid is crazy. He actually knows how to say quite a few words right now, but you would never know. He runs around the house chanting, Dada or Mama. I caught the Dada chanting on camera. Along with a nice little fit for no apparent reason, and then he tries to push Toby down. He's such a little stinker sometimes. But those sweet chubby cheeks and his very contagious smile make up for it.

Jack's ACTUAL vocabulary (that I can think of right now):

Mama
Dada
Nana (for Hanna)
Grandad
Titus (our friends dog)
Dog
Na na na na na (No no no no no)
Nigh Nigh (Night Night)
Duck
Tadown! (touchdown)
Dat (that)

ASL:
Milk
Please
*While I was teaching him to say 'please' in sign language I would always say "YAY!" and clap right afterwards, not thinking about it. So now he gets confused sometimes and claps when I ask him to say please. Whoops.

And his latest accomplishment is snorting like a pig when we ask him "What does a pig say?"

He's Not Bald

Jamie isn't, I can't say much about Jack though. People usually assume that Jamie is bald because he wears hats about 95% of the time, and here's the proof, he's not! Well he's not yet. He IS turning 30 this week, so I'll be sure to keep my eyes out for hair chunks laying around due to his old age. And yes, Jack is chewing on a turkey baster. Don't ask.

What Happens When I'm Not Looking...

Yup, they dumped my clean clothes all over the floor, then proceeded to 'build' a mountain out of them. If you see any of us in wrinkly clothes, you now know why.

Training Up

"Train up a child in the way he should go,
even when he is old he will not depart from it."
Proverbs 22:6

We're starting a tradition. On our children's 3rd birthday (Lord willing with finances) they will get a sponsor child. One that has the same birthday as them. There were about 5 or 6 boys that had the same birthday as Toby, through World Vision. So we picked a little guy named Abel because 1) we could pronounce his name 2) his favorite thing to do is play with balls 3) he's from Zambia, and I like the idea that he very well could look like Toby's future brother or sister. Fitting right?

We have a lot of reasons to be doing this, the main reason is Proverbs 22:6. We are entrusted by the Lord to train up the children He has blessed us with. No small job, is it? Training takes time, it's not just a 'this is what you ought to do' talk every now and then. It's a way of living. Living out what we 'ought to do'. Being Jesus' hands and feet in this world. We have a high calling, and a very difficult one. We want to teach our children compassion, selflessness and love. We want their hearts to break for things that break the Lord's heart. To be apart from the greed and selfishness of this world. This is one little way that we will hopefully model that.

I heard somewhere that kids these days are called the 'entitlement generation.'I have seen it firsthand, and I'm sure many of you have too. They aren't thankful, they expect things to be handed to them without earning it, they completely freak out when things aren't handed to them, for free, on a silver platter. It makes me sick. I want our children to know that we are not better than others because we have a car, nice home, food on the table, a t.v., etc...we are absolutely no better than those others who have none of that. Children are egocentric, they think that if they were born into a wealthy family in Beverley Hills, that they have done something to deserve it. And likewise, if a child is born into a poor African village, they deserve it. I don't know if it's the luck of the draw or how the Lord decided that we ended up in the beautiful pacific northwest. We have health care, food, clean water, access to hospitals, a safe neighborhood, we have SO much more than 95% of the rest of the world. Our goal is to teach our children that they haven't done anything to deserve all that they have, and we need to share. It's what the Lord calls us to do.

Matthew 25:40 "Assuredly, I say to you, inasmuch as you did it to one of the least of these My brethren, you did it to Me."

Luke 3:11 “John answered, ‘the man with two tunics should share with him who has none, and the one who has food should do the same.’"

Proverbs 14:31 “He who oppresses the poor shows contempt for their Maker, but whoever is kind to the needy honors God.”

Catch Up

The next few days I'll be posting stuff from the last month or so. Wow, I got behind. Sorry! But to hold you off here's a couple pictures from today with the dudes.


Toby with his buddy Brett.