Wheel of Misfortune

Misfortune - noun - an unfortunate condition or event.

Synonyms: problem, difficulty, setback, adversity.

Well, that pretty much sums it up, my friends!  This past week has included numerous catastrophes with an extra scoop of hilarious.

Back up to the last time we were at home. I spilled grape juice all over the kitchen, and my Mom came running in the room with a disgusted look on her face.

"Mama, don't worry, I'll clean it up."

"With WHAT?!"

"Umm...the mop??"

"NO, don't use my new mop; I don't want it to get dirty! Use the old one."

Wait. WHAT?!??  She absolutely never ceases to amaze me.  Let's apply that same logic to some other scenarios:

A bleeding patient walks in the ER, and the doctor says, "NO! Don't use those towels.  The hospital just ordered them!"

Or the boss on a construction site says, "Good grief, Billy Bob, don't use the NEW dump truck to haul all that dirt!"

Some things I'll just never understand.



Then one night last week - or on a day that ends in "y"- I talked Ryan into ordering Outback for dinner.  He's been working out and proclaimed that he wanted a grilled chicken salad.  Fair enough.  I'm pretty sure that the loud noise I heard on the other line was the waitress fainting after I said "no thank you" to the cheese fries.

I got home from an exhausting day with our precious brown bag of goodies in tow.  Emerson was content in her high chair in the great room watching Spongebob and eating puffs.  This is a clear indication that we will be able to eat in peace, so on many occasions we eat dinner on the couch.  I was taking one item out of the bag at a time and said, "Oh, Ryan, here's your chicken!  That's strange that they didn't put it in with your salad. But here it is - !!!!"

And just that quickly, the $10 salad that was so meticulously prepared with cheese, eggs, tomatoes, and other healthy foods placed to perfection hit the corner of the table, sending every last shred of it all over the foor, my coffee table books, under the couch, on the pillows.  EVERYWHERE.  And in that instant Ryan looked in disbelief as I shouted, "NOOOOOOO!!!!!"

Emerson glanced briefly in the direction of the noise and gave me a forgiving look for interrupting her Spongebob episode.

I was so furious about the whole thing and offered Ryan my food.  He wouldn't take it, of course, but he still ate his plain grilled chicken that had escaped the incident alive, er, cooked.  He then proceeded to give me a hard time about it for the rest of the evening.

So the next time I order a salad the following question should be asked...

"Would you like that tossed, or dumped ma'am?"

A special shout out to The Office's Kevin Malone for this reenactment of my salad spill

Then there was the stomach virus that hit our family like a tidal wave.  Thursday morning I got a call from daycare that Emerson was vomiting and needed to go to the doctor.  Ryan's Mom came that afternoon so that Ryan and I could go to work on Friday.  That ended up not happening.

At around 6:00 on Thursday evening my stomach started feeling strange.  And in hindsight, ordering O'Charleys probably wasn't the greatest idea.  But I ate it, nonetheless.  Fast forward to 7:30 and I was desperately, violently ill.

'TAKE ME HOME, JESUS; I SEE THE LIGHT!!!"

It was that bad, really.  My stomach was twisting in absolute knots, and I had already taken Zofran.  Twice.  It didn't help.  

After being sick probably 15 times I woke Ryan's Mom up at 11:30 and told her that I needed to go to the hospital.  Without batting an eyelash she got up, got dressed, and helped me out of the door.  My attempt at walking into the Emergency Room would have made the average police officer question my sobriety.  Every step was agony, and my head was spinning worse than that time I made the terrible decision of riding the Starship 2000 at the fair.

I was also wearing brightly colored Hello Kitty pants.  I like these pants for several reasons: they are warm and cuddly, Joy gave them to me, and they have an elastic waist band.  But in my humble opinion they are not designed to be worn in public.

Like, ever.

We've all heard of peopleofwalmart.com.  I'm willing to bet that they could start a "people of the emergency room".com, and it would contain just as much refinery.

I gripped the sign-in desk and filled out my forms like Jack held onto that piece of wood in the ocean;  I was desperate and knew that death was imminent if I did not get some help. 

Then I suddenly started losing all feeling in my hands, feet, legs, and face.  It was absolutely horrifying, and I later found out that I had hyperventilated.  Emphasis on the hyper.  I was also wallowing on the floor in my Hello Kitty pants, muttering in slurred speech that I couldn't feel my face or move my hands.  Surely the staff had the mental ward on speed dial.

Then they whisked me back to an examining room where they took my vitals (or lack, thereof) and put me in triage.  If this didn't remind me of my labor story, then I don't know what would.  I was given three heated blankets and, upon having my blood taken and receiving an IV, screamed louder than all the brides at Kleinfield.

After all these years I finally figured out why they ask you to make a fist when getting your blood taken...so that you are prepared to punch the appropriate medical staff in the nose if you're unsatisfied with their performance. They also gave me Phenergan on top of the double dose of Zofran.  I have never in my life been so disoriented.  I was mumbling about Ryan and towels in the bathroom (what? I'm not at home?), being cold and wanting the light off, something inaudible about Emerson, and just absolute nonsense.

Then there was the drink I was required to consume for the CT scan.  I have NEVER in all my life had anything so disgusting.  Ryan's Mom kept coaxing me into drinking it and putting the straw in my face, and all I could think of was some conniving way to make her forget about it.

Hey, look over there! A squirrel!

It didn't work.  I had to drink every last drop of that disgusting solution and then scoot - or shove - my body in a most uncoordinated fashion onto the scanning table.  Here are a few familiar household items that are larger in width than that table.

This toothpick

A single piece of asparagus

This drinking straw

Seriously, how could a regular sized male- a football player, etc- ever fit onto one of those?!?  My arms were falling off and flailing about.

I have no recollection of being wheeled back to my room, but later a couple of nurses came in and informed me that they "found some things" they needed to discuss with me.  "FOUND" some "things??"

My mind started racing.  Did I really swallow that quarter when I was five?  Was it an arcade prize?  To my shock and disbelief they informed me that I had scarring on my kidneys from previous kidney stones and ALSO gallstones.

WHAT?!?  My white blood count was also up, so I definitely had a virus of some kind, but the gallstone thing really threw me for a loop.  A bigger loop than I already felt I was on.

Just last week my grandfather actually had his gallbladder removed after months of stomach related agony.  What are the odds!  Maybe it's psychological, but ever since I found out the news my stomach has been burning, and nothing I can eat makes me feel better.  I have a consultation with the surgeon this week.

In the mean time I could be a box of Cracker Jacks for Halloween containing a surprise inside.

"Now for a limited time- includes stones!"

But as usual I don't let anything get me down or stop me from doing the things I love to do.  This past Saturday (after Ryan's Mom went home with- you guessed it - THE VIRUS!) my Mom came while a recovering Ryan took care of Emerson so that we could attend Myers and Emily's beautiful and heartfelt wedding.  I wouldn't have missed it, and the father/daughter dance was to DIE for with footage of her dancing as a little girl.  Unbelievably precious and sweet!

Only one napkin was harmed burned in the process.

We also had a great time at Paisley and Parker's Birthday party the weekend before.

The BuyOneGetOne Barbie special.

Although I'm incredibly thankful that I haven't had a major gallstone attack I know I'm not out of the woods yet; I'm contemplating an identity change when my ER bills start arriving in the mail.

"Sorry, Katharine no live here! Nor speak English!"

In the mean time, we would sincerely appreciate your continued prayers and are most grateful for everyone who has expressed concern for us and gone to Him on our behalf.

And just remember...

"It's better than to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all have had pain in your GALL!"

BONE-afide Busy

An old saying goes, "Things are not always as they appear."  I'm about to prove it.  Can you guess what the following images represent?

If you guessed spontaneous combustion or a stock market crash, then YOU...are wrong.  The first picture is actually my mind as a result of the past few weeks.  The people in the next picture almost represent the number of phone calls, texts, and emails I receive on any given day.  And you haven't seen the line around the back of the building.

Sometimes I just want to throw my iPhone off of a cliff.  What's so smart about it, anyway?  I'm going to invent a phone that can find my keys, help me make dinner, and soothe a baby at 3:00 am.  

In the past three weekends I have thrown TWO baby showers, played the organ for the funeral of a very special man, Stacey Griffin, and played the piano/sang over an hour's worth of music for a wedding.  Truthfully a glance in my direction should exhaust the average individual.  

When I'm 90 I'm going to be running laps in the hallways of my retirement home, both disturbing the peace and disrupting all other residents and staff.

"ATTENTION: Miss Moody is running the hallways again.  Can someone please escort her back to her room?!"

I really don't know how to not do something 24/7.  It's just my nature.  On the 12th I helped host a Minnie Mouse themed baby shower for Meagan.  Her baby girl, Charlotte, is due in just a few weeks, and I can hardly wait to meet her.  Meagan is one of my dearest friends, and even though we are almost a year apart in age we were in the same class growing up.  Now our little girls are going to be less than 10 months apart, and- I have a feeling- just as devious as we were.

Introducing the newest FBC greeter...or on occasion, the town crier.

We also celebrated Stephen & Lexie's college graduation/new job!

The following weekend was a shower for Laura Moody, who is having another Moody GIRL!!!! You may remember their reveal party on Easter weekend.  We are 2 for 2 with girls in the next generation of Moodys.  I suppose the Lord figured the family had endured enough with 10 grandsons- HA!  We are stoked for Scott and Laura and can hardly wait to meet Maddie.

Later that evening Emerson and I blasted our way over to Dawson's Minecraft pool party!

Speaking of Birthdays, our family also had a hilarious dinner with my grandparents for Uncle David's 56th Birthday.  We had plenty of natural entertainment.

Last Saturday was Leah and Don's wedding.   The cupcakes were OUT OF THIS WORLD good.  Betcha' can't eat just five.  Really.

And to think that these are just the WEEKENDS.  Then there's that thing called work Monday-Friday, taking Emerson to daycare, and having to remember sixty five million things on top of my daily routine.

The other morning I was determined not to forget anything for daycare OR my work laptop, both offenses of which I've been guilty in the past couple of weeks.  I wonder why.  So that day I meticulously packed the car, got Emerson ready, AND actually got to work on time. 

Then I looked at my feet.

I got everything ready, alright; probably because I was so comfortable in these shoes.  I was mortified and went home yet again and get some more professional footwear before my first meeting.  

And to Ryan's surprise I wrote checks that evening and stamped a pile of bills on the counter.  He held one up and said, "Where is this one going?"

"That's the water bill, Ryan!  You know where it goes."

"Oh, really?"

I sealed it backwards in the envelope.  And yes, I'm still using Christmas stamps.  It'll still get there.  Well, not in this case, but you get the point.

Seriously, Mr. Postman, you really don't know where Water Consumption Road is??? And you've been doing this how long?

Every morning presents its own set of catastrophes, but without fail Emerson falls fast asleep in the car, and I carry her into daycare while she's snoring on my shoulder.  Isn't that the life? Can you imagine if I had the luxury of being carried into my office asleep?

"Katharine, what about that business proposal?  The commission summary report?  The spreadsheets?"

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

She also slept all the way to her recent orthopedist visit.  She has a tiny spot on one of her palms that we needed to get checked out.  As soon as I finished scribbling what I could on ten pages of questions that are completely unrelated to a baby old she woke up.

Are you a smoker? (Umm, that's a big negative)

Can you describe any pain you're feeling?  (Baaaa MaMaMaMa DaDaDa)

I mean, really, who decided that an infant should answer these?

But when she realized that we were in a waiting area she obviously had to check out the new surroundings.  Here are her various stages of awakening.

1) You woke me up for this??

2) Ooh, I like your earrings.

3) Ok, two can play at this game.

Then I got attacked repeatedly with a chubby fist.  I was okay with this.

Before diaper change/ after diaper change.

She was precious at that appointment.  They put a tiny little shield on her during her X ray, and she was completely fascinated with the equipment.

Look at those perfect bones and tell me that they weren't designed by THE Creator!

The orthopedist said that the hardened spot is not a cyst but a benign "fibrous nodule." He had to further explain the meaning of "fibrous" nodule, because if you ask me that means I balled up a shirt and threw it on the floor of my room.

"Katharine, you better clean your bedroom IMMEDIATELY!!! Look at all these fibrous nodules everywhere!"

He sees it as something that will cause no harm to Emerson or prohibit use of her hand in any way; we just have to keep an eye on it.  Just like her hairdo.

Emerson's cowlick has really made a name for itself.  Since birth there are several strands of hair smack in the middle of her head that grow straight up.  Every time I look in the rear view mirror that cowlick is the first thing I see, and it seems that the older she gets the more prominent it is.

I have affectionately named these strands "Alfie" after Alfalfa.

And in the blink of an eye she turned nine months old...

How on earth did that happen?  There is a phrase people use about growing children that baffles me.  I've even found myself saying and then question it afterwards.  "Insert-kid's-name-here" is growing like a weed!

Really?  A weed?  That's the best someone could come up with?  Weeds are unwanted.  An eyesore.  Who decided that it was a conversation piece? Or a compliment of some kind?

"Wow, lady, your kid is growing faster than a fungus!"

Umm, thanks...I think???

But then again, I live in a world where nothing is normal.

What?  Doesn't everyone watch TV from their bathtub wearing only a diaper and bib?  Sheesh.

We've also had lots-o-fun with Jamie.

...and clapping lessons with teacher Joy.

Do I even come up for air? Nope.  My sleeping state is simply a recharge, as my Dad always says.  It is so incredibly easy to get caught up in things that have to be done each day.  When was the last time you took a break?  Talked to an old friend or relative?  Stopped to pray for someone that came to your mind?  People come to my mind constantly, and I pray for them.  Totally random people at totally random times.  But to the Lord who sees the picture- these are not random acts, I can assure you.  

Sometimes I'll feel led to pray for the old guy in the grocery store who SPRINTED to the line and broke in front of me to buy three cans of cat food.  True story.  Or people beside me at stoplights.  You never know anyone else's situation.  Every week at work, church, school, you name it there are people around you who are hurting for all kinds of reasons.  Putting ourselves in other people's shoes won't necessarily help, because honestly, we can't.  If you've never experienced certain heartache, loss, or whatever the case may be then it impossible to imagine a walk in someone else's shoes.  There is one person who did, though.  His name is Jesus.  And He left a Heavenly throne to live among us and experience first hand our challenges, our hurts, and our weaknesses while on earth.

We live in a world that wants to fix things right away and on the spot.  We want a solution immediately.  There are many people we know who have experienced loss and heartache that we can't understand, but what I've learned is that we don't have to understand.  We can talk to the One who knows ALL and sees ALL and go to Him on the behalf of those we love.  This was just a topic I felt led to expound upon.  Maybe it speaks to you.  With each passing day I'm reminded that every moment- every second- has a blessing of some kind, even in the midst of tragedy. t's easy to get angry with God over things that happen- or don't happen- or want to hold on to things we shouldn't, but in so many cases he is either protecting us or has another plan.

Each day that I have Emerson makes me grateful for something else of which I never thought- the ability to stand, clap, and crawl like a lizard are just a couple of things.

This past weekend was my first time away from Emerson.  Ryan and his parents kept her, because I had a wedding.  When I got back the MOST hilarious thing happened; she greeted me with a smile and then fell back to sleep like a fainting goat.  See for yourself.

*Note* These videos will only play on a computer; no ipads or iphones.  If ANYONE knows how to fix it, PLEASE tell me.  I'm so annoyed with trying to fix it!  

Today was like maternity leave 2.0.  Emerson had some kind of stomach bug yesterday, so I was asked to keep her home today from daycare for precautionary reasons.  We had a blast together on this stormy day. 

When giving Ryan the news via text I also learned that I can't spell "diarrhea" after my autocorrect changed it four times.  

"Ryan, Emerson has terrible: "dishrag," "dilate," "donkey."  Oh, good GRIEF.  You get the point.

But because she seemed to be feeling better this morning we decided to partake in some cardio activities.

There are lots of firsts these days, like her first ice cream from Chick-Fil-A.

So my advice for today?  Life's a cow; milk it for all it's worth!