Home

When one mentions the word "home" a person generally thinks of the place where they lay their head at night.  A place that contains ones things; a place of current residence perhaps. 

When I think of the word home, I associate it with the place of my roots; Eastern Kentucky.  A place where people know everything about you.  A place where you are known as some one's daughter or granddaughter, not by your own name.  A place where your word is as good as a written contract.  A place where people pray for one another, whether they know you or not.  I am so very proud to be from Eastern Kentucky.

With that being said, in two weeks, I will make a trek back to my place of birth.  I will venture back into the mountains of Eastern Kentucky.  While it has been some time since I have spent any real time back home, this trip will be a short one, so as I can help in celebrating my great aunt's birthday.

I remember so very well, when I was a child, I hated the mountains.  I felt as though they held me in, blocking me from the outside word.  And as a child, I couldn't wait to get away from their hold.  As I grew older, I learned to love the mountains and what they stood for.  As if they protected me from the outside world.  Shielding me from the wars that raged on the "other side".  When I became an adult, I cherished the mountains.  However, I knew I no longer belonged there.  I yearned to be elsewhere.  I needed to get away, for myself. 

It has been more than ten years since I left the safety of my Eastern Kentucky mountains.  In that time, I have been exposed to and witnessed exactly what it was that those mountains kept me from.  While I am so thankful that I have had the opportunity to see things of this world that weren't available there, there are so many more that I wish that I had not.  There are times when I long for my mountains.  I long to see the fog rise in the early morning, hovering just below the peaks of the mountains, as though they are halos.  I miss the smells of spring and the sounds of the crickets in the summer.  I miss the simpleness of home that I took for granted when I was there. 

For me, it is as though when I left, I made my choice.  I know that I will never be able to go back to the place that will always be my home.  I will never be able to live the life that I once hated.  Not because I can't, but because it simply doesn't exist there anymore.  The simple way that I looked at the world, is no longer.  Life is tough, regardless of where you live.

While I am home, I will savor my time of protection amongst the mountains.  I will breath deep the mountain air.  I will slow my pace to savor and appreciate all that the mountains have to offer.  Knowing that some day, when my body is tired and my soul is ready for eternal rest, that I will be able to lay once again in my mountains.

Do you think it strange?

When I was pregnant with Wyatt, I remember thinking of him growing up.  I remember wondering what sports or other activities he would become a part of.  I recall thinking about what his future significant other would be like and if I would ever become a grandmother. 

It's strange the paths our lives take us.  I now no longer ponder these things.  I now wonder when we will be able to take a bath in the tub.  I wonder when he will be able to go the mall in the winter time, without worrying about catching something that could put us in the hospital.  I wonder when we can go on a trip, just the three of us, without someone having to stay up all night to watch his sats and be vigilant in case his vent goes off.  I wonder when I will ever hear him speak the words "mommy" or "I love you".   

At one time, I wondered if we would ever come home from the hospital.  During that time, I think that my mind stopped allowing me to think about the future.  I still wonder about things in the future, but I have come to realize that each day is more important that the last.  I acknowledge how precious time is.  I cherish every single hug.  I find myself holding him and simply inhaling his scent.  I love that smell.  Even when he has the sweaty little boy smell.  I adore it.  I long for it sometimes.

We are at a place in our lives when we have begun to experience "normal" childhood experiences.  Behavioral issues, while nearly non-existent, are at the forefront.  We are raising a very strong willed, hard headed little boy.  I know that these traits have gotten us to where we are today.  However, I don't want to raise a child who refuses to listen and demands to get his way.  It's a balancing act of trying to discipline the best way we deem fit, while working with nurses who put their two cents in, all of the time.  This may seem strange to hear, but I love these times.  I love knowing that each temper tantrum is totally normal.  It's a normal two year old event.  It's so nice to have talks with my husband that include what time he went to bed or what time he woke up, as opposed to how low his sats have been or whether we had to bag him.

I still have big dreams and wishes for Wyatt.  I want him to be happy in life.  I want him to feel fulfilled.  I want him to be able to have no regrets.  I wish him more love than his heart and hand can hold.  I pray that whatever he dreams, he has the conviction to fulfill.  And I hope that at the end of my life, I am able to look back and smile and know that I have fulfilled my purpose.  Being the mother that Wyatt deserves. 

Mindless rambles from a mommy's mind

While I realize it has been a while, I still wanted to update you all on how my peanut is doing.

Mister Wyatt has conquered the chew!  Ok, maybe not conquered, but he is getting the hang of it.  One thing that we have noticed is that he loves to eat.  Ok, so this isn't news to anyone, but seriously, he loves to eat.  He has yet to turn anything down.  He even ate a garlic pickle with so much gusto, that you would have thought it was a piece of chocolate cake. 

This chewing is a HUGE step for us.  Wyatt has been in speech therapy since birth.  His very first therapist was amazing.  However, she moved.  Our second therapist was a very nice lady, but wasn't as aggressive as I thought she needed to be.  We have since moved to a new therapist with a different company, and Wyatt has flourished!  He sees her twice a week; once for feeding therapy and once for speech therapy.  He adores her and she is so good with him.  She recognized very early on that he is head strong and needs someone who is tough with him.  His sweet cherub face will not only charm the pants off of you, but will convince you that he needs to get his way.  Thanks goodness our new therapist recognizes this and doesn't play into his charm!

Wyatt continues to walk assisted.  He has yet to take his first step without holding onto furniture, holding someones hands or with his walker.  But, I have total and complete faith that this is going to happen very, very soon. 

As for his vent situation.  He continues to use the CPAP support when he sleeps.  Recently we were having sleep apnea issues, but we have determined what causes it and have all but remedied it ourselves.  Wyatt loves to sleep on his stomach.  However, when he does, his vent alarms that he is apnec.  This is because his trach is actually smaller than it should be and is allowing for what they a leak (because his trach isn't cuffed).  Wyatt's leak has always been huge (which also allows for us to be able to hear him when he vocalizes), but as he grows, he needs a larger trach.  The issue now is whether or not to upsize his trach, or allow him to keep the smaller one, and become more aggressive with weaning him off of the vent.  Decisions, decisions!

Wyatt likes to show us daily that he is two.  He hasn't hit those "terrible twos" yet, but we get glimpses of it.  I told Mike last night that if he like this at two, I dread the teen years!  He cried for twenty minutes last night because he didn't want to put his pj top on.  I mean, come on.  He was so tired, that he was overly tired, and it caused a serious meltdown!  I hate those meltdowns.  I hate that I can't just fix it and make it go away.  However, I love that I am now complaining about normal, regular mom stuff!

Randomness time! 

Current thing that stinks:  Owning a home that you are not living in.  So, I don't know if I have talked about this in the past, but I'm going to complain now.  Please feel free to skip ahead to the next paragraph.  It will be much more exciting!  We still own an home in Michigan; the land of cold and snow!  I have tons of friends who still live there and love and miss them all.  The state itself, not so much!  When we left, our house had been on the market for well over a year, and we had lowered our asking price three times.  The problem was that we couldn't compete with new homes being built at the time.  Our solution was to hire a rental company and get renters in it.  Our next problem became our rental price.  Because the market tanked after we bought the home, there was no way we could get out of if what we owed on it.  So, with renters and after our rental company takes their cut, we are still out of pocket a nice chunck of change every month.  Not to mention that we currently have to rent here, because of said home in Michigan.  So, now we want to list it again and try to sell it.  Our problem being that our rental contract says that if we list it, it has to be with our current rental company (who is also a realty company).  However, they only have one house on the market, and it has been on the market for a long time.  That doesn't exactly say aggressive to me.  On top of that, on Christmas Eve of this year, we received a big tax bill from the County of Kalamazoo for taxes owed from 2009 because we no longer live in that house.  UGH!  They have gotten us coming and going!  So frustrating!

Told you it was bad. You should have skipped straight to this paragraph!  hehehe

Things that rock:  My honey got me tickets to see Elton John!  I. Can't. Stand. It.  For me, he is one of my all time faves and one of my bucket list concerts.  I mean, come on.  It's Elton John.  My fave song is Tiny Dancer.  I dunno why, I mean, I have the rhythm of a rock.  I couldn't dance if I had a gun to my head and someone asked me to pirouette.  It's not good.  Anyway, I adore Elton John.  I think he is amazing. 

Other things that rock:  Wyatt is now in the 25th percentile for length!  YAY!  Until about 3 months ago, he was considered to in the under 3rd percentile for length.  However, since he has started to stand and walk, he has grown like weed!  While I want him to be a baby forever, I always want to be big a healthy.  I as thrilled to hear this news.  His weight has remained the same (65th percentile) with no gain or loss.  We are trying to maintain it so that it is easier for him to be able to move, but our boy loves to eat!  Now that he is eating more by mouth, we are able to cut back on his formula intake, which is nice.  But, he is growing!  And I love it (and hate it)!

So, I have rambled for quite a while now.  I'm sure you are tired of me.  Just remember, it takes me forever to post, so this may be it for a while!  I can't imagine why, what with working full time and a two year old!  I love working and hate it all at the same time.  I am so thankful that I am able to work four days a week.  And, some weeks we have as many as 8 appointments with therapy and doctors appointments.  But I often feel guilty that I am working at all and not at home with Wyatt.  I know that it would be different if there weren't a nurse in our home all of the time.  It is what it is.  We take the good, we take the bad ....  You know the rest!  It's crazy and chaotic and I love each and every minute of it!

Thankful, day three

Thankful, day three.

Mikey.  His name enough should suffice.  

Mike is my better half, in every single way.  He is the yin to my yang.  He is the calm in my storm.  He is my strong and steady.  He is my rock.

Of course, as you all probably know, Mike and I met online.  Some said that I was crazy, any maybe I was.  But in the end, my gut was right.  He is the most amazing man I have ever met.

Mike puts up with my crap.  And man, do I have plenty of it.  I am honest and demanding.  I am messy, and crude at times.  I like things how I like them, when I like them and where I like them.  And he lets me.  Don't get me wrong, he is the first person to put me in my place.  But all in all, he has spoiled me like no person should ever deserve to be spoiled. 

By no means are we perfect.  We are far from it.  He hates that I leave my towel on the floor.  I hate that he chews his nails.  He can't stand it that I won't cut Wyatt's hair and I hate it when he doesn't hurry for things.  But all in all, we work things out.  We communicate about how we feel.  We make time for date night, every Thursday night.  We know the value of each other.

Don't even get me started on how amazing he is as a dad.  He and Wyatt are so funny together.  Sometimes I swear they are the same age.  He crawls with Wyatt and throws him in the air.  He cuddles with him and kisses him, always telling him that the loves him.  And he does, I can see it.

Ours is the kind of love I am proud my son will see.  The kind of love that dissolves boundaries.  The kind of love that others are jealous of.  I am so thankful for Mike.  I am thankful he is mine, and I am his.  I am so thankful that he chose me.  I don't feel adequate for him at times, but I am every so thankful he thinks I am. 

But most of all, he loves me.  He loves me with a deeper love than I have ever experienced before.  A scary kind of love that stops me in my tracks sometimes.  He loves me fat and thin.  He loves me rich and poor.  He loves me crazy and sane.  He honestly loves me.  In no way will I ever be able to match his love for me.  But, I promise I will spend the last of my days trying to.

I love you Michael Paul.  I am thankful you were online ten years ago and that I was the "Southern" girl you chose. I love you to the moon and back.

Thankful, day two

Thankful, day two.

Today I am thankful to rock my baby boy to sleep.

There were many occasions when we were in the hospital, that I was unable to even hold my baby.  Days upon end, I would sit at his bedside, holding his hand or rubbing his foot, longing to hold him in my arms.  His tiny body, contained tubes and wires, helping him breathe.  There was no place for mama's arms.  He was fragile, and, I admit, I was scared.  Frightened that if I held him, I could disconnect a tube and cause his breathing to stop.  So, for days and weeks on end, I held and rubbed his hands and feet. 

I tell you this not for sympathy.  I tell you so that you can understand why rocking my boy to sleep, even at 2 in the morning, is a blessed occurrance.  So that you can understand why the smallest of things in your world, may hold a much bigger place in someone elses.  I treasure every evening after bathtime, when I can cuddle close, sing Fire and Rain (sometimes dozens of times) and rock my angel boy to sleep.  I praise God that his breathing is on his own.  That I can wrap my arms around him and bring him comfort.  And that the last sound to his day, is my voice and the beat of my heart.

Thankful, day one

While many of my friends have taken to Facebook to express their thankfulness during this month of Thanksgiving, I have chosen to blog.  I find that Facebook limits the emotions I tend to have (and can't contain to a certain number of characters).  So, here we go.

Thankful day one.

Today, I am thankful for my faith.

While by no means do I profess to be a perfect person of faith, but I know my heart.  And I am ever thankful that God loves me despite the fact that I don't deserve it.

Over the past two years, my faith has been tested.  There have been times that I would pray, not knowing if they were heard.  There were times when I questioned the very existence of God.  But, I can honestly say that being on the other side, I could not have made it without my faith.  I know that in those doubting times, that I just needed to be angry.  And during those very same times, I continued to pray.  I prayed for the healing of my son.  Many of those prayers were in the midst of not even knowing what was wrong, but I had faith in healing of it. 

And you see, Wyatt's healing has never been about my time.  Things don't happen in our time.  They happen when they should, in His time.  I see Wyatt's healing every single day.  I see his progress from that place where I questioned everything.  Wyatt continues to amaze me.  His healing is visual for me now.  I can see how my God is laying his hands upon my baby and healing him, every single day.

While I don't know where tomorrow will take me, what I do know is that I am not alone in that journey.  I am not alone in each and every step I take.  He is always there, holding my hand and guiding me, even when I don't deserve it.  And for that, I am eternally thankful.

Reflective

Here I am, nearly two years later, reflecting on all that is.

When Mike and I received the news that were were having a baby, we were elated.  After six months of "trying" and two months of "really trying", our dreams were becoming a reality.  Three months later we received the news that our unborn angel appeared to have his heart on the wrong side of his chest.  

I will say, living with this secret nearly killed me.  I didn't want people to know.  I didn't want people to feel sorry for me.  I didn't want people to take pity on me.  I hate pity.  So, I lived with this pain.  

I prayed every single day, a million times a day, that God would heal my angel.  That whatever it was, that he would just make it better.  Every single day.  

We had showers honoring our baby boy.  People gathered to give gifts and see a pregnant me.  With a false smile, I forged ahead.  Celebrating with a secret is hard.  I smiled for pictures with a broken heart. 

We went diligently to our monthly appointments with our specialist.  We saw how he was growing and got to see his sweet face.  Still, the pain of not knowing was terrible. 

The not knowing.  Not knowing what?  Not knowing if he was going to live.  Not knowing if his heart was going to beat once he was born.  Not knowing if he was going to breathe on his own.  Not knowing what was wrong with our baby.  It's the not knowing that will kill.

Fast forward.  Through nearly two years of hospitalizations and doctors and nurses.  Through rides in ambulances and pleas to God to "make it better."  Through episodes of literally saving my son's life.  Through amazingly supportive friends and family.  Through words spoken on deaf ears.  

I sit here today, the mother of the most amazing little boy on the Earth.  Wyatt is head strong, funny, intelligent and a ball of energy.  He is always on the go and relentless.  He is loving and concerned for others.  He is my angel on Earth. 

You see, during these past two years, I have lived with every emotion imaginable.  I was angry that God would do this to my son.  I was fearful that I would lose him.  I was so happy to be a mother.  I was jealous of mothers of healthy babies, who I didn't feel deserved that honor.  Most of the time, these emotions got the best of me.  Most of the time, I couldn't see the other side.

Two years in, I get it.  I get the big picture.  My prayers never feel on deaf ears.  My prayers were not in vain.  Wyatt is perfect; the truest vision of perfection.  Every day I see the healing.  I see him getting stronger.  I experience the miracle that I have been given.  I live in perfection.

While I didn't want to hear others tell me that God knew what he was doing, those words were planted, like a root in my soul.  I didn't want to hear that in fact God had given me a gift, not a punishment.  Looking back, I know that pain was at the root of all my anger.  I did feel like I was being punished.  Often I would look back at the mistakes I have made in my life, and analyze each and every one, valuing them to see which one caused this heartbreak.  Now I realize, I was looking in the wrong place.  I analyzed the mistakes as if this was a punishment.  Not the successes with Wyatt as my reward.  

I have been given the most amazing gift.  I struggle daily with being a good mother.  Not giving Wyatt limits.  Allowing him to fall and get back up.  I realize that I will struggle for the rest of my life with these things, but I am so thankful I am able to do just that.  Able to have this perfect life in which I have been given.

Just what I needed

The past two days have been tough.  Mike and I have been house hunting.  Because I have gone back to work (even just part time) we are able to purchase a home that we really love and one that we are able to grow with.  I won't bore you with details, but just stay a prayer for us.  It's a crazy emotional journey.  

Also this week, it has come to my attention that Wyatt is at "that stage".  The stage where he wants me all of the time one minute, then wants nothing to do with me, the next.  It has literally broken my heart.  

At any rate, today has been a sad one for me.  I don't know why, just a down day.  I logged into Facebook and checked my "groups".  I am a member in tons of amazing groups from Moebius Moms to Moms of Trach Babies (MOTB).  Both of the aforementioned groups have been great for me.  They are both full of moms who are living with the same "stuff" we are.  It's awesome to have that kind of support.  Anyway, when I checked the MOTB group, a mom had posted the poem below.  Of course when I read it, I couldn't stop crying.  It was exactly what I needed.  It's the story of my life.  I feel as though this poem was written for me. 

I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. 

The Special Mother 

by Erma Bombeck

Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit.  This year nearly 100,000 women will become mothers of handicapped children. Did you ever wonder how mothers of handicapped children are chosen? 

Somehow I visualize God hovering over earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger. 

"Armstrong, Beth; son. Patron saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity." 

"Forrest, Marjorie; daughter. Patron saint, Cecelia." 

"Rutledge, Carrie; twins. Patron saint, Matthew." 

Finally He passes a name to an angel and smiles, "Give her a handicapped child."  The angel is curious. "Why this one God? She's so happy." 

"Exactly," smiles God, "Could I give a handicapped child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel." 

"But has she patience?" asks the angel. 

"I don't want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wears off, she'll handle it." 

"I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has her own world. She has to make her live in her world and that's not going to be easy." 

"But, Lord, I don't think she even believes in you." God smiles, "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect - she has just enough selfishness." The angel gasps - "selfishness? is that a virtue?" 

God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she'll never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a 'spoken word'". She will never consider a "step" ordinary. When her child says 'Momma' for the first time, she will be present at a miracle, and will know it!" 

"I will permit her to see clearly the things I see...ignorance, cruelty, prejudice....and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life, because she is doing My work as surely as if she is here by My side". 

"And what about her Patron saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air. 

God smiles, "A mirror will suffice."

Promises, promises

While I realize I make promise after promise to be a better blogger, I simply am not.  So, no more promises, I promise!

Honestly though, I have started and not finished in excess of a dozen blogs.  All started when I was in a bad place, emotionally.  I never intended for this blog to be a teary eyed, poor pitiful me rant.  This journey has been tough, I won't lie.  But, being on this side of what I pray is the worst of it, I feel terrible that I subjected you all to my sadness.  But I thank you all for your steadfast commitment to supporting me and encouraging me through it all.  I know that I would never have been able to be where I am without each and every one of you. 

Since it has been nearly six months since you last heard from me, I'll try the best I can to summarize what has been going on in our "Crazy Carcione" home.

Wyatt has had one hospital over night stay since we last spoke.  After going to the ER twice, spending the night in the PICCU, going to our ENT's office and a month of calling our ENT repeatedly, Wyatt was scoped at which time they found that our little goat had swallowed a foreign object (the tip from on of his medical supplies that was suppose to be thrown away) lodged in his throat.  They said that had he not had a trach, he would have chocked to death.  Nice.  Thank God it did no harm.  I won't bore you with the details, just suffice it to say that a mother's intuition is never wrong!

Our Peanut is now a crawler and a stander.  Yes, we are mobile!  It's a scary thing, really.  Knowing that you can no longer protect them in a perfect bubble.  Pillows no longer stop topples.  And our boy is on the move!  It's as though he is making up for all of that immobile time.  He is constantly moving.  Even when he lays down to sleep, he keeps moving.  It's crazy.  Our therapists in PT and OT had him fitted for AFO's (braces for his ankle/feet) to help in standing and walking.  While he isn't overly concerned with walking yet, the AFO's are certainly doing their job.  Every day I am amazed at how much stronger he is getting all over, in general.  They really give him the support he needs in order to have the confidence to stand. 

So I know that all parents think their children are smart, my I know mine is a genius (as I had to concentrate on how to spell the word).  He is simply mind blowing.  I mentioned the AFO's above, but they only work when they are on his feet.  Wyatt has mastered the Velcro and can successfully remove them, himself.  He puts them on himself, but can't get them on his whole foot, just yet.  He is obsessed with zippers.  Have I mentioned his fine motor skills?  They are creepy!  He holds the tiniest of things.  I mean, what child at 20 months old can do the things he does?  He knows most of his body parts, by name when asked to point to them.  While he is still non-verbal, he can scream.  Boy can he scream!  He can put large knobbed puzzles together.  He knows the shapes and colors and where they go.  I seriously can go on and on.  It's crazy how smart this child is.  I have no idea where it comes from!

We went to the doctor last week and Wyatt is measuring in the 17th percentile for height and the 50th for weight.  He hasn't gained any weight in the last 6 months, which is good.  The heavier he is, the harder it is for him to be able to move.  The low muscle tone is getting tons better, but he is able to get around better being a bit smaller.  The doctor isn't worried about his height  because he has been consistently growing and a steady rate.  All in all, the doctors are pleased with his growth.

My mom and I attended the 10th Moebius Syndrome Conference in Philadelphia.  It was amazing, of course.  I literally need to devote an entire blog just to what I took away from the conference and all I learned.  I feel so blessed to be a part of such an amazing organization.  Just knowing that things Wyatt does that I had been concerned with are common in the Moebius community.  But the most amazing part was taking away all of the relationships with other Moebius moms.  There is nothing like getting a bunch of mothers together, not only to talk about their children, but sharing information.  It is like nothing I can explain.  Just knowing that you are not alone.  I can't even being to describe it. 

I have gone back to work, part time.  It was a very difficult decision for me to make.  That fine line between being Wyatt's mom and being Amanda.  I live to be Wyatt's mom.  It is in every fiber of my being.  I was made, and born to be his mom.  I know that with everything in me.  However, during the last 20 months of being Wyatt's mom, I lost Amanda.  I lost who I was, not only to the people around me, but to me.  I woke up every morning focused on Wyatt.  Of course, I am his mother.  But, during the struggles we have faced with his needs, I totally lost who was because in the end, I am nothing without Wyatt.  Now, going back to work is not going to fix that, but it has certainly helped.  I feel like an active citizen again.  I now shower every day, and not just because I can smell myself.  I get to talk to people, and not just ones that are in my home for my son.  I feel productive.  I don't feel so dark and sad.  And while it is only 2 to 4 days a week, it's enough to work for now.  Don't get me wrong, I always wanted to be a stay at home mom.  But, circumstances presented themselves differently that I imagined.  I imagined being a SAHM and doing things mothers do.  Basically, being able to care for my child, the way most mothers do.  Taking him to the grocery with me, going to the park.  Simple things you do with your children.  However, in our world, I have been largely unable to do that.  There are nurses in my home 23/7 (don't ask) who are there only to tend to my child, much the way a mother does.  They bathe him, they feed him, they watch his every move.  And while I am there, and tend to do much of this myself, I felt as though they were there to do all of this, and better than I could.  While I know this isn't always correct, imagine someone in your home, all day, all night, taking care of your child, when you don't want them there.  Now, I know that they have been placed there to tend to his medical needs and that I am still his mother.  But, that isn't always the case.  I am not even going to get into the problems I have had and continue to have with nurses, but suffice it to say that it's terrible.  What I am trying to say is that, work has been a good thing for me.  And while I don't know how long it will last (I am only there on a temporary basis), I know that it is the right decision for me, at this moment.

Wyatt is obsessed with Roscoe.  I'm not sure when the change occurred.  He always watched Roscoe, grinning when he would lick his foot, but all in all, could care less that he was there.  However, now that Wyatt is crawling, Roscoe is like a moving target.  Poor guy.  Example:  A few weeks ago Roscoe was lying in the hallway between the bathroom and the nursery.  Apparently Wyatt locked his cites on the poor dog on this particular occasion.  Wyatt began crawling toward  Roscoe.  Sweet Roscoe, not wanting to be bothered during his afternoon nap, simply got up, and moved into the nursery.  Crisis averted.  Or so he thought.  Wyatt then hooked a right and followed him.  Of course, I got up from the floor, where Wyatt and I had been playing, to follow the action.  When I got to the door, Roscoe was literally pinned to the wall as Wyatt made his final decent upon him.  I swooped Wyatt up to take him back into the other room as Roscoe blinked in relief.  But seriously, Wyatt's love for Roscoe is undying.  He loves to pat him on the head and give him hugs.  I am so thankful that Roscoe is so patient with him.

Well, I think I will put an end to this update.  I know there there are six months of things that I have missed, and for that I am sorry.  I am going to try and make an effort to be better, but I promised not to make promises, so I promise I won't!

Love and happiness!

Amazing Friends

While I have tons of amazing and supportive friends, this blog is dedicated to one in particular.  Andrea Jarvis Hurley.  Her photography and artwork are truly amazing and ah-inspiring.  But, she has taken the most incredible photo of (my favorite, unbeknownst to her) purple tulips.  Ms. Andrea has decided to donate all profits from the purchase of the picture to the Moebius Syndrome Foundation.  She even asked me for my favorite quote to add to it!    

http://www.etsy.com/listing/93252726/purple-tulip-religious-verse

I beg each of you to check out this beautiful picture in honor of my Wyatt.  

Also check out her blog. http://andreahurley.blogspot.com/  She is crazy talented!  And don't forget to check out her other stuff on Etsy.  This girl is going to be super famous someday soon!

Andrea, we love you and thank you so very much!!

Fix me

I recently saw Joyful Noise with Dolly Parton and Queen Latifah. 

Let me begin by saying that I had heard mixed reviews on this movie so I went into it with an open mind, and heart.  I got there about 5 minutes after the previews had started, expecting to be the only person in the theater.  Instead, I was the youngest!  lol  

While I found much of the acting hysterical (and not necessarily in the good way), I learned two things about sweet Dolly.  First, she isn't the actress I once found incredible in Steel Magnolias.  And second, she dances with the rhythm of a white woman!  I say this because I too, have the rhythm of a white lady.  It was pretty funny to watch.  

Back to the blog at hand, I found so much of the movie spoke to me.  I'm sure that many people will watch this movie and take different things from it.  The things I took from this movie, could fill a stadium!  Honestly, though, I took quite a bit from this movie.  

First, there is a scene with Queen Latifah's character and her son, who has Aspergers.  They are having a conversation about God.  Her son asks her why she loves God.  He then goes on to say that she should hate God for making her son the way he was.  This scene was the most profound for me.  You see, I have felt this way so often.  I don't hate God, but I don't understand how this could have happened to my son.  Wyatt doesn't have Aspergers, but he is different from others.  He will struggle for the rest of his days.  He will become teased and broken by words because he is different.  This thought alone crushes me inside.  People have told me I need to teach him to be strong to it, but I hurt for him.  I know I have talked about this before, but unless you have a child with a "disability" or a visible difference, you have no idea what this feels like.  Not to mention the struggles he has already faced medically in his short 14 months of life.  It just doesn't seem right in my eyes.  Why my baby?  

Anyway, the next scene that made me cry like a baby was actually a song Dolly sings with her grandson.  It's called From Here to the Moon and Back.  It is a very sweet song.  However, this was shortly after the scene mentioned above.  And you see, every night when I tuck Wyatt in to sleep, I tell him I love him to "the moon and back a million, billion, trillion times".  

And lastly, there was a song in the movie that spoke to my very core.  It's called Fix me Jesus.  Below is the youtube link.  It's simple and sweet and incredible.  It's my mantra.  Fix Me Jesus.

I recommend that you at least take a chance on this movie.  It's not the best I have ever seen, but it spoke to my heart.  Maybe it will yours too.

Yes, I remember you

I realize that with every blog, I promise to blog more often.  And with every blog, the next seems just that much further from the last.  The truth is, I only find time to blog at 3 in the morning, when I don't have a nurse and am forced to stay awake.  Ok, so I am not "forced" per say, but I do stay awake when we don't have a nurse and thus "forced".

Since my last blog, Wyatt had an ER visit and surgery to put tubes in his ears.  Both of these events were totally and completely unrelated.  

Our ER visit was on the heels of a sleepless night for moi.  We didn't have nurse, and so I was up all night.  Wyatt was very restless and so I sat by his bed, all night.  I continued to check his trach, because he was trashing around all night and it made me nervous that it would come out (foresight, I think so).  The last time I checked it was at 5 and all was well.  

At 6:30 a.m. Mike came out and I went to bed.  Our nurse came at 7 and at 7:45 Mike and our nurse left for therapy.  At 11 a.m. Mike woke me up.  The long and the short of it was that Wyatt's trach was out and they couldn't get it back in.  After I tried, I called the ENT to let them know we would be bringing Wyatt into the ER. 

I say all of this because Wyatt's sat's were awesome! His O2 sats were 98 to 99 and his heart rate was 112.  Then, he started coughing.  We could hear "stuff" in his lungs, but could not suction because we couldn't get the trach in.  Eventually we got a suction catheter in to suction.  Then, Wyatt's sats dropped.  They dropped fast and hard.  When I "took over" he was at 40 and blue.  

Now, I have talked in the past about being a Mama Bear and taking over situations.  This was most definitely one of those times.  I don't do it because I question the ability of our nurse or because she isn't doing the job I want her to do.  It is simply because I know that I know how to "fix it".  I know how to make it all better.  And this was just one of those times.

I opened Wyatt's airway by tilting his neck as if I were going to do CPR.  I then took my thumb and forefinger to spread his stoma (hole for his trach) to open it.  After that, I began calming my baby.  I talked to him in a very soothing voice telling him that everything was ok and that he was alright and I was there.  Somehow, this was exactly what he needed.  He sats shot back up to 98.  At this point, we had called 911 and they were on their way.  

Fast forward (to spare you the boring details) he slept in the ambulance on the way to the hospital with sats of 99.  At the hospital they finally got his trach back in.  After 4 hours, we came home. 

We estimated that his trach came out around 7:30 while he was getting ready for therapy.  The strange part was that it was his best therapy ever.  His sats were awesome and he did everything they asked of him.  It was so strange.  But, because it was out for so long, the stoma had started growing back together.  Yes, that quickly!  It's scary to think of it. 

Oh, and then two days later I ended up in the ER at 2 in the morning.  Yep.  It appeared that what I thought was a heart attack was really a panic attack.  No!  Yep.  And to tell you the truth, I am not sure that I am 100% over the whole thing.  I was diagnosed with STSD after Wyatt ended up in the hospital back in April.  But, here was another event, much like the last, except that I didn't have to give him breaths.  No wonder I feel like I'm losing it most days. 

Now, all of this coupled with not having a nurse at least 3 nights a week, sometimes more.  To say that life is catching up with me is an understatement.  UGH!

But, I refuse to go on about my "darkness" in this blog.  I wanted to share some photos from Wyatt's birthday party!  It was a Dr. Seuss theme and a large success.  I can't believe my baby is year old!

Here are some of our decorations.  I would like to thank Pinterest for all of the incredible ideas.  

While I could post a million photos of the decorations, (which I am most proud of) I won't.  But, I will post some photos of the birthday boy!

I'll leave you with my "smily" boy.  This is one of my faves of him.  He was so happy with his Reddi Whip "cupcake". 

Perfection

As I sit here, in the floor by Wyatt's crib, playing him James Taylor (because we don't have a nurse and he has been up since 3:45 a.m.) I can't help but think of perfection, his perfection.

For a bit now, I have started and stopped many blogs.  It seems they all talk about how terrible my life is.  They all begin telling you all the latest developments, both medically and developmentally, for Wyatt.  This information is very straightforward.  My blog then goes to that dark place.  It seems all I ever do is complain on here.  And once I do, there is always someone there to tell me to get over it, in not so many words.  Some have hurt me, unintentionally, but most have tried to hep me back up.  I realized only recently that maybe I didn't want help back up.  Maybe I wanted to dwell and wallow in my self pity.  Don't get me wrong, there are days that all I want to do is wallow.  I want to consume myself with sadness.  I don't know why, it tends to take over.  But those days are happening fewer and fewer.  Anyway, I realized that  I never talk about how incredibly perfect my child is.

Wyatt has the most perfect nose.  I have no clue who it came from.  Really.  Mike has a pretty awesome nose, I must say.  I, however, do not.  I inherited my Grandmother's nose.  I think it's the Lafferty nose, or it could be the Blackburn nose.  However, it's hers and she can have it back.  At any rate, Wyatt's is perfect.  As are his toes.  I am NOT a feet person.  They sweat and smell and are yucky.  But not baby feet.  They are sweet and soft and simply adorable.  Don't even get me started on his hair.  Even if he did get my unruly curls, they are simply beautiful on his perfect head.  And that perfect crooked smile.  I feel blessed that Wyatt does have a smile at all.  Many Moebius people do not.

I can go on for hours, but you get the picture.  He is perfect.  As Mary Poppins put it "practically perfect in every way."

Wyatt can now sit on his own for several minutes at a time!  YAY!  When we came home from the hospital from our "extended stay" we made goals with both his PT/OT ladies, as well as his TEIS teachers.  My goals for Wyatt were simple:  I wanted to be able to tell when he was in distress, I wanted him to be interactive in play, and I wanted him to be able to sit, all by his first birthday!  You can image my elation when realization hit me that my baby met all of his goals!  I know mothers say they are proud of their children, but there are times when I think my heart is literally going to burst with pride, and Wyatt is only 11 and 1/2 months old!

Wyatt and I work and play together everyday.  Of course, I can tell when he is totally finished playing and/or working.  Lately, he has been putting his arms over his eyes, as if to say, "no more".  It's really cute, actually, but knowing that is his cue, I typically cut activity time off there.  I push Wyatt sometimes, but in no way do I want him to associate playing in the floor with mommy as "work".  So over the past week or so Wyatt and I have been working on clapping. I do it first for him to see, then I hold his hands and clap for him, then I hold one arm still while moving the other to clap, then I let him try it.  At first, he didn't make the slightest effort.  Then, he would hold his hands in front of him, looking and studying them.  For the longest time, he would put them together, just holding them.  Then, yesterday, Auntie Becky (or the Anti Becky, I like to call her but I love her!) was here.  We were all in the floor playing with his Leap Frog Spin a letter toy (that I call baby crack).  When he was over it, we started clapping.  When he would clap (with assistance) we would clap for him.  Very soon, he got it.  When he clapped for the first time, unassisted, I felt so much joy.  So much pure, amazing, heart bursting joy.  I got teary-eyed and emotional.  These are the moments I am thankful I am here, with him.

Wyatt has to have tubes put in the 21st.  Unfortunately, it's the same week as Thanksgiving and his birthday.  While I knew this was coming, I just stinks.  I pray that the procedure is an easy, simple, successful one and we are all well and good for his birthday!

So for two months now (YES 2 months) my child has been getting his first molars.  And, if you know Wyatt, he doesn't do anything half way, we have 4 coming in, all at once.  Needless to say, he has been a bit of a bear.  He is so restless in his sleep at night and chews both index fingers in both sides of his mouth most of his awake hours and has a callous on his left thumb from sucking/chewing it in his sleep.  Our doctor doesn't recommend OraGel.  She says that they swallow it and it causes their throat to numb and not be able to swallow as well.  And, given Wyatt's swallowing issues, we don't want to make anything any worse.  My doctor also says not to give him chew toys in the freezer.  She says that it can cause the gums to get frost bitten.  She does, however, recommend a cold, damp washcloth with all of the water rung out of it.  Wyatt could give two poos about it.  So, we suffer.  We even talked to her about the teething tablets, but she says no to those as well.  Her fear is that he will aspirate on some of it because of his swallowing issues.  So, we tough it out.  

I have been so very blessed to have found the Moebius Syndrome Foundation.  I have connected with a few mothers so far, and have found such solace in the information and support they offer.  It's kind of like we are all in a private "club".  I mean, you can talk about your child's delays or achievements with other parents, but they don't really get it.  Don't get me wrong, the support from everyone, Moebius parent or not, has been incredible.  But when a Moebius mother says "ask you doctor about" this or that, it's because they have had the same issues.  It's such an incredible comfort.  

When I initially registered with the Moebius Syndrome Foundation, they sent me some awesome information.  They also sent Wyatt a super sweet Moebius t-shirt.  In the information I received, there was an article that struck me so profoundly, that I try to live by it daily.  While I don't recall who wrote it, or where it came from, it was such an incredible epiphany to me; like I woke up.

The article talks about having a child with special needs.  It's like planning a trip to Paris.  You saved up for this trip for years.  You have dreamed about it.  You have bought all of the travel guides.  You learn French.  The big day comes and you get on the plane.  You land.  But, when you get out you aren't in Paris.  Instead, you are in Holland.  You didn't plan this.  You don't know the language.  You don't have the books.  This isn't what you planned.  The moral of the story goes on to say that even though you aren't where you planned on going, Holland is also beautiful.  And if you dwell only on things you miss about Paris, then you will miss the beauty of what you have.

In the end, my eyes are open.  Wide open.  I appreciate so much more.  I know Wyatt will never be like most children.  He will struggle.  He will be teased and taunted.  He will have his heart broken by words and people.  But, in the end, my son will excel.  My son will climb many mountains, but once on top, he will plant his flag, for the world to see.  

Wyatt playing in the laundry basket.  PT said it's great to  help him sit. 

Wyatt's first Halloween.  The world's cutest Charlie Brown!

Most recent

What a week this has been!  Oh, and it's only Wednesday!

On Monday, Wyatt had PT, OT and Speech Therapy at 8am.  During therapy, he seemed to be sleepy and just not feeling well.  The older that Wyatt gets, the more defiant he gets.  Mike blames me, but,  ok, so maybe that is from me.  Anyway, he wasn't very cooperative at all during therapy.  The worst part was that we had an appointment with the Vandy geneticist at 11:30.  

On our way to Vandy, Wyatt slept.  Our drive to Vandy is only 20 minutes, typically.  I knew we were going to be early, so I just took my time.  When we arrived, he was still asleep so I tried to to jostle him to wake him.  Thank goodness he slept until it was time for weight and measurements.  This nap was much needed!  (We also saw his PCP on Tuesday who said we have another double ear infection.)

For those of you who have noticed, we have seen a geneticist in the past.  The one we saw was part of Centennial, the hospital where he was born.  This geneticist, is part of Vandy.  I felt it was better to centralize all of his doctors to Vandy.  It's much easier for his care.  Their computers are all linked and they have access to everything, making it much easier to look up information they may need.  This appointment was made more than 6 months ago, but I was able to get in to see the other quicker, so I kept it.  I know, crazy mother!

Anyway, this visit was very bittersweet.  During the first five minutes of seeing Dr. Phillips, he diagnosed Wyatt with Moebius Syndrome.  Now, if you have followed my blog previously, you know that from the time he was three months old, I have questioned Moebius.  I had researched it for quite a while and felt as though he may have it and I questioned many doctors about the possibility that Wyatt had this syndrome.  We even saw another geneticist who assured us that he did not and that all of the issues I had noticed that were similar to Moebius, were simply low muscle tone.  Within the first five minutes of meeting Dr. Phillips, and with the first six questions he asked me, he had diagnosed Wyatt with Moebius.  

While this diagnosis is disheartening, it is also a sort of relief for me.  It's strange, I know, but I feel like the weight of the world has been taken off of my shoulders.  I am not sure why this is, but I really feel relief.  I have known all along that there was something else going on that was yet to be diagnosed.  I knew my child had Moebius.  I hate that I wasn't listened to.  

Of course I go back to questioning myself.  The geneticist, Dr. Phillips, explained how Moebius Syndrome is "marked" in Wyatt's DNA.  I know that there was nothing that I did, or could have done to prevent it, but I still question things.  Then I ask why us?  I question why Wyatt.  I just want answers.  But, I know that I will never get answers to these questions.

However, with this diagnosis, I also question the future for Wyatt.  Knowing and seeing other children with this syndrome, I ache for Wyatt's future.  He will face so many more mountains than other children.  Even if he had just been diagnosed with Poland Syndrome and lived with that, he would have mountains to climb that most others wouldn't have.  But now that we have an added diagnosis, we have added mountains.  Wyatt will not be able to move his face.  The tiny movements we get now, that I associate with a smile, are all I will get.  Wyatt will be unable to move his eyes laterally (left to right).  "Moebius Syndrome is a rare neurological disorder that affects the 6th and 7th caranial nerve, leaving those with the condition unable to move their faces and unable to move their eyes laterally."  - www.moebiussyndrome.com  With that being said, my son will never be able to show emotion through his face.  He will not be able to frown or smile normally.  He will not be able to look left or right without turning his head to do so.  He will have problems swallowing and eating and may possibly have speech issues.  He could someday have vision, hearing and dental issues.  This is all so much for a mother to digest. 

I have thought about so very much in Wyatt's future since before his birth.  I went from thinking that he would die at birth to being thankful that he was alive and thriving.  To thinking he was dead in my arms, to being thankful that he was crying during an attempt to get an IV.  Then we are faced with knowing that without a surgery to "tact" his aorta to his sternum that he could die, to being thankful that he made it through.  Followed by the fact that my child had to be intubated and not knowing if he would make it, then to another surgery followed by a trach and vent to keep my baby alive.  And just when I thought it was all downhill from here, we are hit with this.  When I once thought about being worried if he wanted to play sports and get hurt, I now worry about protecting him from the cruelty of those around him.  Not just children, but adults.  How do you explain to someone staring at your child that he is unable to smile?  How do you tell someone that he can't blink?  How do you stop people from staring at your child, possibly causing that child to be self conscious?  How do you teach your child to love ones self when society is there telling them that they are not good enough because of the way they were born?  There are people every day that we tell aren't good enough for one reason or another.  The song "Born This Way" by Lady Gaga is running through my mind.  I want my baby to know that he is perfectly perfect, just the way he is.  But, how do I help ease the pain and rejection from others?  I know this personally because of my weight, but I don't want him to know this pain.  If you take nothing else from this blog, please teach your children acceptance.  Please, teach them that just because someone is different from you doesn't mean that they are bad.  It doesn't mean that they are scary or mean or dirty or ugly.  They are just like everyone else, God just made them out of different materials.

With that being said, I have found www.moebiussyndrome.com to be an incredible resource for me.  I have found mothers and fathers who have grown children with Moebius and are will to tell their experiences.  Also on this website, I found that the Foundation has a conference every two years.  In 2010 this conference will be in Philadelphia.  Mike and I are determined to learn absolutely everything we can about this diagnosis so that we can provide an environment for Wyatt that he is able to thrive in.  So, as of right now, our plan is to travel, with Wyatt (granted we are off of the vent) to Philly next year to learn more about his syndrome.  We will also be able to attend seminars from people who have children with Moebius and from adults with Moebius.  We will be able to connect with others and share the information about our children, in hopes of helping each other.  It's a support group that friends and family just can't provide.  It's a group of people who are able to share their journeys in parenthood with children with Moebius.  

Pray for us as we live in this new diagnosis.  It feels as though the wind has been knocked from our sails.  I know that we will sail again, but for now, I grieve.  I don't know what I grieve for.  What have I lost?  My baby is here, and amazing!  He laughs when I blow raspberries on his belly.  He is into everything!  He is so curious it amazes me.  He is so stubborn that I have to laugh!  I can't explain my emotions at this moment.  It's so difficult.  Just pray that I somehow gather the strength to walk though this with power and conviction.  And pray that 40 years from now President Wyatt Paul Carcione does a great job running this country!  Because I know there are great and mighty things ahead from him!

Lots of random stuff

I want to start by telling you that my angel is getting so big and so strong.  He's so funny and makes me laugh all of the time.  He learns things when you show him, sometimes, only once.  It's really amazing!  Thanks to therapy, he holds his head on his own about 90 percent of the time.  He has also started pushing up when on his stomach.  He still has a hard time pushing up because his left arm is slightly shorter than his right.  It's not noticeable at all to look at him, but when he tries to push up with both arms, his left arm locks into place, while his right is still bent slightly.  It's no big deal, really, once we get past this little place.  Just today he is maintaining sitting on his own for a few seconds.  He can also pull himself back up into a sitting position when falling forward.  It's incredible how quickly he is improving. He gives me such inspiration.

We have also noticed that Wyatt is left handed.  When I was growing up, I always wanted to be left handed.  My daddy is left handed and I always envied anyone who was left handed.  So, I am slightly excited that Wyatt is left handed.  "How do you know he is left handed already," you ask.  He will, nine times out of ten, always reach for an item with his left hand, over his right.  It's really incredible.

Today is a "good day" for me.  I have written in the past about days being very dark and bleak at times.  It's really day to day.  I hate it, but it is  I don't know what to do to make it better, but for now, the "good days" I treasure.

So, I just had some random things to share.  I haven't been able to have the the positive attitude to be able to share funny things lately, but I have several that I think you will enjoy.

Sunday I went out.  It was MUCH overdue and I have really benefited from it.  My first stop was Books A Million.  I seem to have an addiction.  I have been reading much more, thus the need for more books.  Not only do I typically buy myself tons of books, but I buy Wyatt tons of books.  How can you pass up clearance books at $1?!?!  Anyway, lately Mike has been reading as well.  At night, we have some "us" time while reading together.  It's been really nice.  When he heard I was stopping by the book store, he asked that I grab him a new one.  So, while I was wondering around, I happen to see the strangest sight I have seen in a long time, let alone in a book store.  There were two teenage boys, both blonde with glasses.  Both six feet, or so, tall.  And both in jeans an t shirts.  These two boys were having a light saber fight, in the middle of the store.  No, I am not making it up.  While I consider myself a geek to the core, I think I was outranked.

After trips to TJ Maxx, Old Navy, Ross and Jo-Ann Fabric, I decided to go to the Dollar Tree.  My Aunt Becky and I have been working on the planning of a Halloween party.  We had one two years ago, also incorporating our friend, Rusty's birthday.  Did I mention that it is also a costume party?!?!  It's so much fun.  Last year we had to forgo the party due to my being 8 months pregnant, and because they had just moved into their new home.  So this year it was on.  The Dollar Tree proves to be a great place to find very inexpensive decorations.  Plastic rats, crows, pumpkins (more on these later), skeletons, etc.  Anyway, I was checking out and a young woman came to stand behind me in line.  While the nice clerk was checking me out, the woman behind me asked him if she could use her food stamp card to buy energy shots.  Now, I have nothing bad to say about the fact that she was on food stamps.  I think it's an incredible program for those who are truly in need.  However, the fact that she was asking of she could use it for an energy drink did nothing but tick me off.  Was this energy drink necessary for her to live?  No.  Milk, juice, cereal, meat, peanut butter, even chocolate for goodness sake, are all understandable in my book, but an energy drink?  Come on!!  Not to mention that we were at the Dollar Tree, where everything is $1!!  Do you really need to put your $1 energy shot on your food stamp card?!?!?!

Oh, and let me tell you about the lady I saw in the parking lot at Wal Mart.  I wish I had not been driving because I would have pulled my camera out quicker than you could say your name!  She was approximately 23-ish.  She had on a grey sun dress.  It fell around her knees.  A long necklace.  I could not see this necklace, but by itself, the dress and the necklace looked appropriate together.  She also had on a fedora.  Um, ok.  But, the cherry on the cake was that she had on black Pittsburgh Steeler house shoes!  I am not kidding! House shoes, going into Wal Mart!  It was unreal!  She was totally People of Wal Mart material!!

So, back to the Halloween decoration story.  I saw on Martha Stewart where she had pumpkins covered in glitter.  Not only did they look classy, but they looked expensive.  I saw similar ones at TJ Maxx for $15.  So, my inner crafter kicked in.  I could so do that!  Yeah.  So, I found pumpkins at the Dollar Tree for, you guessed it, $1.  Next, I bought Elemers glue two for, right again, $1.  Then I went to Wal Mart and got silver glitter.  It was $2.48 for a giant jar that could cover 10 pumpkins.  I decided that yesterday was a great day to glitter pumpkins.  While this task would not typically be a big deal for most people.  I am not most people.  I tend to make things a much bigger deal than they should be.  Did I mention that I decided to take this task on in my living room?  Yeah.  Needless to say, my living room is all sparkly and pretty.  No wonder my poor mother was wanted to pull her hair out most of the time!  Except now, I can't blame it all on my brother and sister!

Now, as most of you now, I do entirely too much thinking from time to time.  Sometimes its to the point that I really put much thought into things.  My recent thought was that of the Smart Car.  Of course, as a "plus sized" girl, I think about the ability of a chunker to get not only in, but out of said Smart Car.  Then I wonder if they make XL Smart Cars.  Not that I would by one, but I still wonder.  And once on that thought, I can never recall seeing a "brother or sister of weight" driving one.  Is it because they can't get in or out of one?  Who knows.  Strange, I know.  Don't judge.

I adore our new nurse Sheila.  Have I mentioned that?  I love Tuesdays.  We talk about everything.  We are very similar in our views of the world.  We also both enjoy reading and are constantly recommending books for the other.  Oh how I love Tuesdays.

I should end for today.  Hopefully this will be a good week.  I pray that it is.  I have hope that I will gain a better outlook on things and find something to keep my mind occupied.  In the meantime I am going to continue glittering pumpkins.  If they turn out ok, I may share the finished product with you!