Early Morning Service

I remember waking up as a child, rolling over, rubbing my eyes, and trying to make out the red bright letters on the alarm clock next to my bed... 7:00 AM was way too early unless it was a school day. "Please let mom and dad still be asleep and not waking us up for church today" I remember thinking. I just wanted to sleep in. That didn't happen very often.

 

Today, I woke up, and wanted to go to church. I woke up around 7:15 to baby Trent wanting attention, and the first thought was church. My second thought was how I wish Xavier was with me to go too. Then I wondered if his dad ever takes him on Sunday's. My third thought was wondering if my husband would actually go with me. I looke dup mass times and told him one was at 8:30 and I wanted to go. He said "ok" but I don't think he really believed I'd get up and go. I have said I wanted to go before, in fact, I have wanted to go for a while now but just keep putting it off. There's always an excuse...

 

We got ready and off we went, the first time as husband and wife, and with our newborn too attending church. We happened to go on a Sunday where it seemed like 70% of mass was them asking for money. I know it's not always like this, but I admit it did get a bit frustrating. 20 minutes were spent filling out forms to give to perishes for money. I enjoyed going though. I enjoyed the service, the mass, the comfort. I enjoyed looking around and the singing, the praising, praying, and that warm feeling I ALWAYS get when I go to church. I walked out feeling good. It was a good way to start my Sunday.

 

It is not up to us to force our children to believe what we do. But it certainly is up to us as parents to instill morals into our children, and to teach them the scripture, then as they get older, let them choose for themselves. My parents never forced me as I grew up. There were many Sunday's I skipped as a teenager but many that I atteneded willingly too. I have never regretted it.

 

I have never understood an atheist. As I am sure they will never understand me as a Christian. In all honesty, I have always thought to myself - "If I believe in God and die tomorrow, and he wasn't there, I'd be ok. But if I died tomorrow and never believed, I would have nothing." It doens't hurt to have faith in something better, something beautiful, paradise... and to have faith in someone that loves us eternally. That faith has gotten me through my darkest days, and death. Without thinking and knowing in my heart that Heaven were real, I'd be lost. Knowing those I love are just beating me home to a wonderful paradise, has kept me strong. Even if I die tomorrow and if it were all just a make believe fairy tale in my head throughout this life I wouldn't change it for ANYTHING. I can look into my chidlren's eyes, and know that something beautiful is out there waiting to welcome us home one day. I can look at the pain and suffering we all endure in this life and I know this cannot be everything there is. There has to be more. I know there is more.

 

Although I am not the most dedicated Christian, I certainly would love to get back on that path. I would love to raise my children with good morals, and with faith. I would love to learn more about the scripture and I admit I need to pray way more than I do, not just when I want something.

 

I have a beautiful life, healthy, happy, and beautiful little boys. A wonderful husband that would do anything for us, and I know... that is thanks to God, because I certainly never deserved it.

Life isn't always as easy as it seems..

Last week, I got the news that my cousin's son, 18 month old, Rowan Conrad, has been diagnosed with a rare form of liver cancer. Matt, my cousin and the father of Rowan, is my age. We grew up playing together, and I remember at our family events Matt and I always playing. I remember how close our families were back then, and as we have gotten older and built our own families, how distanced we've all become. As a child you are pure innocence, you know no evil, and you are sincerely happy. I miss that.

I went and visited my cousin yesterday at Children's Hospital here in Cincinnati, and was greeted with a huge hug although I haven't seen Matt in a couple of years, and never have met Rowan until yesterday. This is not how I wanted or planned to meet his little boy.. In a hospital bed, and helpless... that's not what I wanted to see, and all I could think of were my own boys back at home. Matt & and I talked about life, about being children, and about our own children. We talked about how cruel the world is, and how corrupt most people are. Almost like I'd been seeing him and speaking to him daily, that's exactly how it felt. The love our families share never disappers, no matter how long you go without talking or seeing one another.

I rubbed Rowans' head, and we watched Yo Gabba Gabba and Fresh Beat Band, and it was a sweet but bitter hour or so that I spent there. It angers me to look down and look into a scared, innocent child's eyes and know he did nothing to deserve the pain he is in, but at the same time I was just so thankful he was OK, looked comfortable, and that I was spending time with him. It was long overdue.

Rowan was scared, and you could tell. I looked in those big blue eye's and saw Xavier, my oldest. And although I held my own while there, I didn't do so well once I left. No child, should be in a hospital bed, helpless. I'm just so proud of my cousin for being the strong daddy he has to be right now for his son. I don't think I could handle it nearly as well as Matt is able to, and I guess it's because he has to.

Xavier was with his dad yesterday, and when I got home I called to tell his dad to please give him a kiss and that we are so lucky. That everything bad that has happened to me in my life is so small compared to what Matt & Rowan are currently going through. Xavier busted his head open a couple years ago, and I remember thinking he was dying. There was so much blood, and as I ran him into the emergency room thinking the worst and being a total wreck, the nurses didn't seem to take it nearly as serious as me! I remember feeling a bit angry, Why are they not as scared as me? After a lot of crying from myself & Xavier both, and a couple of stitches later... he was back to normal. The doctor told me as she laughed "he is a boy, and we will be seeing you again. Head injuries always look worst than they are." I told Xavier's dad yesterday I'd rather relive that day (the worst day of my life) a hundred times versus going through what Matt is and hearing that my child has cancer. I am so proud of Matt, and so proud of little Rowan.

I got a tear filled phone call last night from my mother saying that Rowan took a turn for the worst and was now placed in ICU. I held in the tears all day long, and finally they started pouring out and I couldn't stop. I cried as I listened, and listened as I cried. I don't remember what I even said to her. I just remember hanging up and my husband hugging me as the tears flowed. I remember asking "why" and repeating "he doesn't deserve this" over and over.

Apparently, little Rowan had internal bleeding, and it was serious. They almost had to perform an emergency surgery to clamp it. Matt's parents, as well as the mother's were there during this heartbreaking moment. Although they don't get a long what so ever, they joined together, went to the chapel, held hands, and prayed together. Miracuously, the internal bleeding stopped on it's own, so no surgery was needed, yet. I pray it stays this way. Baby Rowan is still currently in ICU and all I can hope for is that he can get through this, as pain free as possible. Matt was telling me the goal is to make it to mid summer with chemo treatments to shrink the tumor in Rowan's liver, and then to have surgery. By Halloween, we are hoping he is out trick or treating like a normal little boy. His cancer is at a stage 3 early stage 4 right now. I pray, and that's all I can do.

I picked up Xavier from his dad this morning at a very early 6AM. He handed him to me, and I hugged him as tight as possible and started bawling. I am so thankful for his health, for Trent's health (my youngest). I repeated "I love you so much" a couple of times while he just said "I want in my carseat" not even realizing I was crying. Sigh. Thank you God for my children and my husband.

Family sticks together. Family is there when you fall at your weakest. Family loves you no matter what. Family is true love. Family will always be by your side.

Matt and I have both grown up, and we live our own lives. We don't speak every day, he hasn't even met my youngest and hasn't seen my oldest in two years. Matt knows I'd be there in a drop of a hat if he needed me though. Matt knows I love him, and Rowan so much.

Rowan and his favorite Winnie the Pooh Bear.

Rain, Rain, Go Away!

Today, I woke up around 1AM, fed our sweet little 7 week old, fell back asleep, and was up once an hour until about 630AM. At 630 I got up, did a few sit-ups, made myself a cup of coffee (with sugar-free creamer - hazelnut!) and cleaned our downstairs. I came back upstairs to be greeted by a "mama!" from my almost three-year-old son. I went into his bedroom, said good morning, and asked how he slept, upon which his only response was "where's my phone?" so that he could play Angry Birds, Jetpack, Temple Run, or some other App on his Ipod that he calls his "phone." Next he ran into our master bedroom asking "where's my baby brudder" which is usually his first question every single morning, he is such a good big brother. I showed him where he was and he went over, kissed him, said "awww, goodmorning baby brother, I missed you" and started playing his phone. It's probably 715 at this point.

I continued getting myself ready for the mornings activities. Xavier (my oldest) has soccer every Saturday at 9AM. It honestly is something I don't look forward to going to most days, because he just is too young to really grasp it all, and after 15 minutes is ready to go home. I have to give it my all to keep him entertained for that next 30 minutes of practice, and pretend that "I'm going to go love on all the other boys then" just to get him to keep up. This was our third week into it. Surprisingly, he did a lot better than I expected. He got way more into it than he did the previous two weeks. And, as usual, it only lasted for fifteen minutes. He kept wanting me, then his dada Ty, then me, then his baby brother, then his dada Ty... then the grass... then nothing... then me... and this went on for a while. He looks forward to the stamp that Coach Jesse gives the kids at the end, but only if they listen well! Well, today, Coach Jessie forgot the stamp, as I'm thinking... God, please don't tell me I sat here through 45 min of this for my child to get a stamp only to have to tell him he won't get one this week...(one of my tricks is to keep saying "If you don't go participate Coach Jessie won't give you a stamp!")... as he went to go grab an extra stamp another coach had it literally started pouring rain. My husband ran to the car with our newborn, as I waited for that stupid stamp.. it started pouring harder... and it's cold to top it off. I looked around and saw parents jetting it to their cars, and realized it was time I do the same before my khaki pants become complete see through pants. Xavier (who is uninterested for 30 min by this point in soccer) starts screaming, "but I want to play soccer!!" Really child? So for 30 minutes of me trying everything I can to get you to play and couldn't you NOW want to play soccer as I'm running to the car?
We made it to the car, a soaking mess, and no stamp.

We get home, and immediately he and Ty start playing. Those two feed off of each others energy. My morning wasn't slowing down just yet though, I still needed to thaw out breast milk for our newborn, clean more so that when the delivery guys arrive with our new King Bed (that we got so that our children have more room of course) the house wouldn't be a total disaster, get Xavier dressed and cleaned up for his dad to come get him, get his things packed, scrub the nasty crockpot that has been sitting in the sink for two days full of burnt chili, fill the dishwasher, ... should I keep going? Does my job ever end? 45 Min later, after a time out because he wouldn't get dressed, Xavier's dad get's him. I hand him the BBQ chips Xavier had to have and apples that I packed, gave him a big kiss, and watched him leave. I walked back in, and quiet.

I've still kept myself busy, ran to the bank, changed my last name (Finally) on my account, went to another bank and deposited money, went to Target and got our King Size comforter, called my mom and called my sister, picked up Gramma's pizza, and now here I am... laying next to Trent while my husband is in the garage working writing this & watching House Hunter's as the baby drinks his yummy bottle of nice warm breastmilk. "Laying" is the keyword here.

I miss Xavier. I miss the chaotic rugrat.

Monday morning cannot come soon enough, and while most complain about having to wake up for work, I've probably already been up once an hour and can't wait to be up for good at 5AM because at 6AM is when I pick up Xavier again. My kids = my life, if you cannot tell.