Life, Death, and Everything in Between

This post is in honor of National Hospice and Palliative Care Month, which ends today.

I wasn't always passionate about palliative care, hospice, and end-of-life issues. In fact, I distinctly remember a time when I was very much on the "do whatever necessary to keep someone alive" bandwagon. When I was in high school or college, my maternal grandmother told me about her "living will" and desire to not be resuscitated if she stopped breathing. I was horrified. She was in her late 70s and in fairly good shape for a woman her age, but she did have a heart condition. In my youthful arrogance, I imagined myself ignoring her wishes, doing CPR anyway, and having her thank me when she woke up because...why, I don't know.
My views on that subject began to be more flexible when I went to seminary, which tends to be a time of examination and reformation of values, anyway. As I formally studied ethics for the first time, I began to become a little more open-minded. During my final semester of seminary, the Terri Schiavo case was front and center in the news, and there was a lot of discussion in our community around that issue.

However, it wasn't until the summer after I graduated from seminary that my current passion for end-of-life care was kindled. As part of my requirements for ordination, I did a unit of Clinical Pastoral Education at a local hospice. (In case you're not familiar with Clinical Pastoral Education, or CPE, it's basically supervised chaplaincy work, reflection in groups and one-on-one with a supervisor, and teaching seminars.) Over the next ten weeks, I learned so much about intentional living and dying, quality of life vs quantity of life, and the courage it takes to stop curative treatment, accept the end of your life is near, and do whatever possible to die on your terms. I was able to walk with several patients and families on that journey. One of my favorite memories was spending time with Charlotte, a patient with terminal cancer, the day before she died. We had gotten to know each other fairly well, and it was both painful and rewarding to pray with her and tell her goodbye, knowing that the next time I saw her would be in heaven. She died on her terms; surrounded by family in the inpatient hospice unit.

The phrase "dying with dignity" is often tossed around by those of us in "the business", but it's really a misnomer. Dying, in and of itself, is completely undignifying. After all, by the end you lose control of most things and are totally dependent on other people. I think a better phrase is "dying with as much dignity as possible", but I guess that doesn't sound as pretty.

The fact is, one of two things are going to occur: either Jesus will come to us (i.e. the Second Coming) or we will go to Him (i.e. death. I'm not preaching universal salvation; I'm simply saying that I believe we will all have our five minutes with Jesus before going to our final destination). Unless Jesus returns in our lifetimes, WE ARE GOING TO DIE. Moreover, we don't know how or when that will occur. I may be only 34 years old, in good health, and live a low-risk life, but I could die tomorrow or I could live another 60 years. Or, something could happen and I could receive devastating physical and/or mental injuries. I don't know the future, and neither do you. Only God knows the future.

Therefore, it makes complete sense to me to make some preparation and do some reflection on the future, and I encourage everyone else to do the same. First, everyone over 18 should have an Advance Directive (click on the link for more information and a way to download one that meets your state's guidelines). If Terri Schiavo had had one, then the whole fiasco over the feeding tube probably wouldn't have happened. Second, you should discuss with your family (parents, siblings, spouse, or children depending on your place in life) what your wishes are in regards to artificial life support, organ donation, and the like. That way, if you can't communicate your wishes, your family and Advance Directive can do it for you. Third, think about what gives your life the most meaning, and what you might be willing to give up in order to prolong your life. For example, my mother had to "back away" from some things she's been doing for years and LOVES, because of the time commitment and side effects of her chemotherapy. However, for right now, she feels that it's worth it to give those things up in order to have a fighting chance to have more years with her family (not that it's my decision to make, but I agree).  Finally, if you're over 60 or have a major health condition, I would also have a funeral home picked out and (if you're not a part of a local faith community), have an idea of who you would like to do your funeral. There have been so. many. times. when I have worked with a family whose loved one is dying/unable to communicate/just died and they are lost as to what to do, what the person would have wanted, what funeral home to call, etc. Advance planning, as difficult emotionally and logistically as it is, can make things so much easier when the moment comes.

And if you can afford it, get life insurance for yourself each member of your family. It's not uncommon for funeral expenses to run past $10K, so I would recommend at least that much, if not also enough to pay for outstanding medical bills, joint debts (if you're married), and any other transitional expenses.

My grandmother died in July of 2009 as a result of her heart condition and injuries resulting from a fall a few months prior. She simply went into cardiac arrest, and since she was a DNR (Do Not Resuscitate), that was that. I was not with her when she died, but if I had been, I simply would have held her hand, told her I loved her, and let her go*. Because it was what she wanted, and it was the best way for her to die with SOME dignity.

*Not that it would have been my decision. She had actually made my cousin Mike her power of attorney, so he would have made the decision. But you get my drift.

I'm jumping off my soapbox now. I could write another several paragraphs, but your eyes are probably already glazing over. (: However, if you ever have any questions or comments, leave them in the comments section below or e-mail me, and I'll be happy to either answer them or point you in the right direction. I'm not an expert by any means, but fairly well-informed and very passionate on this subject.

My Kid Saved Me $110...

Explanation for the title: under our insurance plan, a doctor's visit is a $15 co-pay and an Emergency Room visit is a $125 co-pay. Read on...

So, when I checked Greg's temp this morning, it was back to normal. I debated not taking him to the doctor, but decided to go ahead and take him, because he still seemed miserable in the Respiratory Department. He was coughing a lot and wheezing a lot.

Our pediatrician has drop-in hours from 7:30-9:00 am, and we arrived a little after 8am. The waiting room was full (I expected it after the weekend, especially a holiday weekend). Almost four hours, one nurse practitioner visit, two nebulizer treatments, one chest X-ray, and a tentative diagnosis (only tentative because they can't run the actual test in the office) of RSV/bronchiolitis later, we left the building. They gave me a nebulizer machine for Greg (well, they're actually billing our insurance for it) and prescriptions for liquid Albuterol (for the nebulizer) and a steroid. The chest X-ray was to rule out pneumonia. Thankfully, that came back negative.

Remember this post from when Susanna was a baby? Susanna had the same thing Greg has. Apparently, Greg had reached that critical point in his illness where he was really having trouble breathing. He actually slept fairly well last night (in three or four hour stretches), which was why I was so surprised that he seemed so bad off this morning. Had he begun showing signs of distress overnight (the way Susanna did when she had bronchiolitis), I would have had to take him to the ER (which I did with Susanna*). Wasn't that thoughtful of him to wait a few hours before having breathing difficulties? I'm SURE he did that intentionally (of course he didn't. It was purely by chance).

So, we have a fairly sick little boy on our hands, but he will be OK in a few days. For now, we're giving him breathing treatments every four hours and a steroid once a day. He goes back to the pediatrician on Wednesday, but hopefully things will be better by then.

I have another post brewing about hospice and palliative care (hey! did you know that November is National Hospice and Palliative Care month? Neither did I until today!), but that will take actual time and more thought than I can drum up right now. Hopefully that will show up tomorrow.

*In Susanna's/my defense, I had already taken her to an Urgent Care center once and called the pediatrician's answering service early that evening when she seemed to be getting worse. I think that if medical care in Danville had been better, the ER trip would have been unnecessary, because the bronchiolitis would have been caught earlier.

Random Ramblings, Sunday Afternoon Edition

Greg is better, I think. He slept better last night than he did on Friday night. He's eating again (only liquids, but at least he's not dehydrated) and he occasionally has happy moments, which are relieving to see. I'm still taking him to the doctor in the morning, unless a miracle happens overnight. He still has a fever, a nasty cough, and is incredibly fussy. I want to rule out an ear infection, bronchitis, or croup. With my luck, they'll tell me it's a cold and will go away on its own. However, to me it's worth the co-pay for my peace of mind (or antibiotics, if he needs them).

We skipped church this morning because Greg wasn't feeling well (so one of us had to stay home). I had thought that James would take Susanna, but she has a yucky cough (still not sure if she needs to go to the doctor, or if I should keep her home from school tomorrow) and James was feeling sub-par. So, we all stayed home. I'm sure the women who work in the nursery were weeping over not seeing their favorite baby. However, people in the congregation may have been happy that the loud toddler was missing. Susanna likes to dance and sing during the songs (not really a problem) and offer commentary during quieter moments (including the sermon, which is why she goes to Children's Church midway through the service). I know it bothers me more than other people, and I'm willing to bet that our pastor doesn't even notice it (I used to be able to tune Susanna out while preaching, and since he has children, I'm sure there was a time when his children did this), but I still feel self-conscious.

Susanna, by the way, is showing some rather disturbing tendencies. In addition to offering insightful commentary during sermons, she has been known to pick up and "read": official Annual Conference documents (such as the Minute Questions from the Clergy Session at Annual Conference), a piece called By Water and the Spirit (the official UM teaching on baptism), and just the other week picked up one of our bibles and demanded that James read her the first two chapters of Genesis. If she starts reciting the Great Thanksgiving (a.k.a Eucharistic Prayer), I'll know I'm in trouble.

Gotta go...Greg is making discontented noises. Tomorrow's blog post will reveal the Big Mystery: What is wrong with my baby boy? A bad cold? Ear infection? RSV? Croup? Stay tuned...

Quick Takes, Sick Baby Edition

1. Sheesh, I'm tired, and I'm on call tonight and then on Monday night.

2. The reason I'm tired is a certain little boy named Gregory James who is sick. The sickest I've ever seen him, actually. Last night he really didn't sleep, except for a two-hour period. Today he had a fever (101 and higher), a bad cough, and for several hours was exceedingly fussy. He seemed to feel better after his afternoon nap, but he still didn't want much to eat, so I'm worried about dehydration.

3. We put up our Christmas tree today. It's not decorated, but probably will be in the next day or so. I've never been a huge fan of putting up the tree so early (Advent and all), but last year we couldn't find any lights TWO WEEKS before Christmas (we save the lights every year, but some always don't work the next year). So, this year we're putting it up early.

4. Being a PRN (as-needed) chaplain is either feast or famine. A few weeks ago I was in the middle of "feast" mode: lots of extra on-call shifts, one regular day shift, and plenty of pages while on-call. Right now, I'm in the middle of "famine" mode: I've had about eight on-call shifts in the past three weeks, but only one of them has netted an actual page (I get paid $1.50/hr for carrying the pager, and then my regular hourly rate plus a "shift differential" whenever I answer a page), so my last paycheck was fairly small. However, that's going to change. I have three daytime shifts scheduled for December in addition to my regular twice-weekly on-call duties.

5. I bought Susanna the Candyland game at Target this afternoon because it was only $4 and I thought she'd like it. The first time, she was more interested in the pretty game board and the cards than the actual game and rules. However, the second game (which she played with James) was a little bit more fruitful. We shall see. Of course, now she'll be asking me to play Candyland every five minutes, but that's what parenthood is about, isn't it?

6. My traffic has really not picked up very much, and I was hoping it would as a result of my posting (almost) every day this month. I'm thinking of doing NaBloPoMo again in December (it's actually an ongoing thing you can sign up for now, not just a once-a-year deal) and actually making it all the way through this time. Maybe then I'll get more traffic...we shall see. Any suggestions?

7. Remember my de-lurking post from a week or so ago? I've done what I said I was going to do; I've left comments on just about every blog I've been "lurking" on and have begun "following" some new bloggers on Twitter. I feel good about that, and it will be interesting to see if any new Internet friendships come out of it.

Greg is crying! Bye!

RevGal Friday Five: Pie-ola

And once again, it's time for the Rev Gal's Friday Five. And once again, I'm posting it here instead of on my other blog that's actually part of the web ring. But it's NaBloPoMo! And I need a post.

Please answer these five questions about pie:
1) Are pies an important part of a holiday meal?
Of course! It's not Thanksgiving/Christmas without pie!
 
2) Men prefer pie; women prefer cake. Discuss.
I didn't know this; not sure that it applies to me. I like both pie and cake. James says that it would depend on the cake/pie being offered. I take that to mean in general, he likes both.
 
3) Cherries--do they belong in a pie?
Oh, yes. I love cherry pie!
 
4) Meringue--if you have to choose, is it best on lemon or chocolate?
Lemon. Definitely lemon. 
 
5) In a chicken pie, what are the most compatible vegetables? Anything you don't like to find in a chicken pie?
Carrots, peas, green beans, onions....I don't like beans, so wouldn't want to find those in a pie. 

Perspective and Giving Thanks

About three hours ago, I was feeling somewhat grumpy. Our Thanksgiving dinner had gone very well (and been given rave reviews), been eaten, and the leftovers put away. The dishes had been washed, and my parents and brother had already left. But I was feeling out of sorts and not really in the holiday spirit at all. There were reasons for that feeling, of course. Very valid reasons, as a matter of fact. I'm not going to focus on them right now.

I decided to take a break and checked F*cebook. One of the first status messages that cropped up was from my mom:  "We had a delicious dinner at chez Money with great food and great company. It was a lovely afternoon. We have so much to be thankful for."

Talk about a reality check and reminder. After all, that statement came from a woman who just this year has experienced a life-threatening diagnosis, four surgeries (five, if you count the port-fixing one) in three months, and is five months into an indefinite chemo cycle of two weeks on, one week off. Her life has been totally changed in the past nine months and (realistically speaking), will never be the same. Yet she can come up with that sort of statement. If she can have that sort of attitude of thanksgiving, then I can, too. After all, one of the main reasons I was feeling like a "Thanksgiving Scrooge" was because I was worried/upset about the effects of the chemo on her well-being (which is going very well, but it's not without drawbacks, of course).

 So, I began seeing things in a better light. After all, I had my entire immediate family with me for Thanksgiving. Both of my parents are alive, and live thirty minutes away from me. Ditto for my little brother. I have a husband who loves me (and who can cook a fabulous meal) and two beautiful, HEALTHY, and charming children. I have a full stomach, live in a lovely home in a safe neighborhood, and all my needs (and most of my wants) are provided for. It is highly likely that this weekend, I will get to see one of my dearest friends, one whom I haven't seen in two years (she's one of those wonderful college friends I mentioned in an earlier post, and she lives about eight hours away). Most importantly, I am a creation of the Most High God, whose love is so high and deep and wide that I cannot begin to fathom it. 

And then I got a call asking if I could possibly be on-call tonight, and the gratitude my fellow chaplain expressed when I said "yes" warmed my heart (and the opportunity to earn money helped, too).

And THEN, while I was reading her a story from her kiddie Bible, Susanna said "I have to go potty" and she ran to the bathroom, sat on the potty, and PEED IN THE POTTY. People, that is monumental. It makes me think that she's finally "getting" the whole potty training thing, and she may indeed be potty trained before she learns to read.  

So tonight, I will go to bed feeling grateful. And all it took was a quick peek at F*cebook to get the perspective needed to be grateful. 

Happy Thanksgiving!  

'Twas the Night Before Thanksgiving...

...And our kitchen has been busy for most of the afternoon and evening

• James has made six (6) pies: two each of pumpkin, sweet potato, and pecan. 
• I made cranberry sauce, which is now chilling in the fridge.
• Tomorrow, James is planning on waking up at 6 am to make the stuffing, thaw the turkey if necessary (it's been in our fridge since Sunday, but you never know...), and pop the turkey in the oven. 
• In addition to the cranberry sauce, I am making sweet potatoes. That, cleaning the house, setting the table, and cleaning up afterwards (no small feat!) are my contributions to Thanksgiving. James does everything else.
• James' mom is here (she lives four hours away) and my parents and brother will come over tomorrow afternoon (they live about half an hour away) for dinner. 
• Greg is already asleep, and has been for almost an hour. I think his teeth were bothering him. Hopefully he'll sleep tonight. I have a "My First Thanksgiving" bib for him for tomorrow, as well as pureed sweet potatoes, green beans, and turkey tetrazzini.

Hope that tomorrow is wonderful for everyone! Happy Thanksgiving!

Three is (not so much) a Magic Number

I included the above video so in case you've never heard the song "Three Is A Magic Number" by Schoolhouse Rock, you can be properly educated. My tenth grade English teacher used to play this for us frequently. Why? I don't know. He just did.

So, Susanna has been Three for almost three months. I have heard many conflicting reports about Three. Many of my friends warned me about how awful their children were at Three, even worse than at Two. Still others assured me that Three wasn't that bad because you can REASON with a three-year-old. And many people told me that it was a really fun age. Based on these varying reports, I had no idea what to expect.

They were all right.

There are many wonderful, wonderful things that I'm enjoying about having a child who is Three. First, Susanna's speech has improved by light years in the past four or five months. She can easily carry on a conversation, regularly uses four or five-word sentences, and appears to add new vocabulary on a daily basis. She's started to sing songs she learns in church, at school, or that she hears on the radio/TV. Second, her imagination has just taken off in the past few months. She loves to dress up and engage in pretend play. One of the games we play (I've dubbed it "Showtime") involves us taking turns performing for each other. She also likes taking turns singing "Happy Birthday" and blowing out imaginary candles on a cake made out of Play-Doh. Third, she is much more aware of the world around her, and is beginning to have (somewhat) significant relationships outside of our family with her teachers, classmates, and others. This may be unique to Susanna, but she's also been very affectionate with us and with Greg. It's kinda cute.

But then there are the negative aspects of Three, and these negative aspects make me glad that I have nine guaranteed Susanna-free hours a week. First, she is extremely stubborn and always wants things done HER way. If she doesn't get her way, then there is Great Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth. Or, she simply refuses to do what we ask her to do, regardless of the consequences. Exhibit A: dinner. Our rule is that she needs to eat at least two bites of her dinner (which is exactly what we're having for dinner, no exceptions) if she's going to watch TV later. However, she keeps on refusing to eat and THEN throwing a temper tantrum when she asks for "Elmo" (aka "Sesame Street") and we tell her "no" because she didn't eat. Second, she seems to think that everything is hers, and we constantly hear the word "mine" be applied to things like my iPhone, James' iPad, Greg's toys, etc. Any correction to the contrary is met with Great Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth. Finally, she is alternately independent and dependent, both to great extremes. One moment she is insisting that she brush her teeth (badly) without assistance. The next moment she refuses to go down the stairs without me by her side and holding her hand. And again, any time I try and either help her/encourage independence (depending on the situation), there is....(all together, now) Great Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth.

So, I think the best description for Three comes from Charles Dickens: "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times." Here's hoping Four will be better...

Pack The Knife - Capitol Steps

I'm tired and don't have much energy for posting, plus I have cleaning to do. Enjoy this video, especially if you're traveling by air this holiday week. This video is from 2008, but it's still funny...

Random Ramblings, Sunday Evening Edition

James cleaned the carpet in the family room today. It was waay overdue, and since we're hosting Thanksgiving this year, the timing was right. It looks much better, but I find the smell of carpet cleaner overwhelming. Hopefully it will be better in the morning.

We didn't make it to Sunday School today, but we did make it to church. That was definitely a good thing, because the service was awesome, and I'm glad we didn't miss it. From the prayer concerns posted in the bulletin and on Twitter, and from what our pastor said, it was a rough week. There had already been three funerals and the fourth was scheduled for this afternoon. Plus Charge Conference (annual meeting with the district superintendent) and several more members in the hospital. So a rough week for the congregation and also for our poor pastor (although he didn't complain, of course. Or even mention himself in the equation. But I bet it was a really, really, rough week for him. I bet his wife hardly saw him. Hopefully he'll be able to take a break over Thanksgiving). I don't know if this was planned or in response to the events of the week (probably the latter), but the sermon was based on Colossians 1:11-20 (click on the link to read the passage) and essentially focused on God being with us through the rough times. After the sermon, he did an altar call (I can't think of any other name for it), had several Stephen Ministers up front, and invited us to come to the front if we wanted to pray with someone and be annointed with oil. A lot of people came up (it looked like about 10% of the congregation, which is impressive since there were 200+ people), which showed that his instincts were right; a lot of people were/are hurting. Anyway, it was a powerful service and one that makes me glad that we are part of this church.

We got a new oven a few weeks ago. Did I mention that? Anyway, it's very exciting. Our old one worked but was becoming "finicky". Last year, it took over eight hours to cook the Thanksgiving turkey and it burned the pecan pie that James made. Sometimes it would overcook stuff, sometimes it would undercook stuff, and sometimes it was fine. Since we were hosting Thanksgiving again this year, we decided it was a good excuse to get a new stove. The new one is really really nice. It's black (we like black appliances), gas, and has a double oven. We also decided to get a new microwave (also black) and installed it over the stove.

Greg is teething. He's apparently an overachiever, because he appears to be cutting both his upper front teeth AND his molars. Yes, really. We're thanking God for infant Motrin and also shoving frozen stuff into his mouth as often as possible.

Time to go and double-check that Susanna hasn't flushed my iPhone down the toilet. Have a great Sunday night!

Seven Quick Takes, Quick-for-me Edition

1. Today James and I had a date, our first one in over a month. We went to see "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1". I highly recommend it. I think it stayed very true to the books and ended at just the right point in the narrative. We contemplated going to see it in IMAX, but decided to save our money and see this installment at the regular theatre. However, we plan on seeing "Part 2" at the IMAX theatre, because it will be in 3D.

2. After the movie we had "lunner" at Olive Garden. The movie ended around 3:30 and we really hadn't had lunch (unless you count the ridiculously expensive popcorn), so we dubbed our meal "lunner". After that we made a quick trip to Home Depot to look at knobs for the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen and bathrooms. We found one that both of us like, so James may be going back later this week to buy them.

3. I think that the check I wrote to the baby-sitter may have been almost as much as what our tickets, snack, and meal cost. Baby-sitters are expensive! We love ours (she's 16, lives on the next corner, she's very responsible and resourceful, and our kids love her) and we pay her the going rate, but she makes almost half my hourly rate. Isn't there something WRONG with that?

4. Incidentally, we've only recently had to start paying a baby-sitter. My mom used to always baby-sit Susanna when we needed a date night/afternoon/overnight. It's not like it was every week; more like once a month at best. However, since the Unwelcome Visitor (breast cancer and the four surgeries and chemo that have followed) arrived, Mom hasn't been as available as she used to be (which is OK, because the surgeries and now chemo treatments are hopefully ensuring that she will be able to watch her grandchildren grow up. It's a trade off, and I'll take it.) She still helps out; she watched them overnight for us when we went to a wedding in Richmond last month, transported Susanna from preschool to daycare for me two weeks ago, and took Greg for me one night so that I could get a few nights' sleep. We just realized that we couldn't keep riding the "grandma gravy train" forever.

5. Remember my how part of my "grand plan" for saving money on clothes was to sell Susanna's outgrown clothes via consignment? That may not be as easy as I thought. On Tuesday, I (along with my two sidekicks) took a box of mint-condition clothes to a local consignment shop that pays cash for secondhand kids' stuff. The lady looked through it...and bought a pair of shoes and a sweater. I chose store credit, so I now have...$2.40 in store credit. She handed back the rest of the box, which included a girls 2T winter coat (I would think that would be a hot item, but I guess not). I have a few other places I can try, and several more boxes of clothes, but I may be looking at either Craigslist or simply donating them.

6. James and I are planning on going "Sunday School class hunting" tomorrow. We haven't been part of a small group/Sunday school class in years. When we were in Lexington, we had a wonderful small group. I still miss them, four years later. When we moved to Danville, the church I was serving really only had one adult Sunday school class, and James didn't like the style (it was more lecture than anything else) and I liked using the time for last-minute sermon and worship prep. When we moved here, we didn't really try to find a class at the first church we attended (none of the Sunday School descriptions sounded interesting to us, and my schedule made weeknight evenings difficult). We've been at our current church for almost a year, but haven't made much of an effort in that area. Sad, I know, especially for a clergy person! So, we're going to begin making it a priority, for our relationship with each other, with God, and so our children can go to Sunday school.

7. I'm on-call tonight, and hoping to actually get a page (or two). I had a "Pager Palooza" weekend over Halloween (meaning I had four on-calls and one full-day shift in four days) and made loads of money, but I've had four on-call nights since then, and my pager has been silent for all of them. I take calls from home (so it's not like I'm away from home) and do get a pittance ($1.50/hr) just for carrying the pager, so it's not like I'm spending nights elsewhere and having nothing to show for it. However, my next paycheck is going to be on the light side. Thank God that I'm not the primary breadwinner!

Hope you're having a great weekend!

You're in the Right Place! Same Blog, New Title and Design

If you're looking for "Life and Times of the Moneys", you're in the right place. I changed the title (it seemed appropriate, since it's becoming more of a multipurpose blog than a family newsletter-type blog) and am fiddling around with the design. This is more time-consuming than I thought (and I'm just using Blogger's stuff; no HTML or fancy stuff at all), so this post may have to "count" as my post for today.

Unexpected Thanksgivings

The RevGals are focusing on Thanksgiving for this Friday Five. (NOTE: I'm a member of the web ring via another blog I own. Since I'm mostly writing over here right now, I'll do the Friday Five here. I'm sure they won't mind)

Name five things in your life that were unexpected for which you are now grateful

1. My little brother, Bart. From what my mom has told me, she had pretty much given up on having a second child. She was going to have a tubal ligation done (I don't know if she was still contemplating it or had actually been to the doctor for a consult) when she found out that she was pregnant with Bart. Although Bart's disability and health issues have certainly made things a little more difficult (especially for my parents, who have born the brunt of it), I can really see how God's grace has shown through Bart and touched our family.

2. Winding up at my undergraduate alma mater and absolutely loving it. I had my heart set on another school, a small womens college in North Carolina. I had been accepted there and had already sent in my deposit to reserve my spot in the freshman class. But for some reason (possibly my lackluster grades and the equally lackluster financial aid I was offered), my parents insisted on taking me on an official visit to E&H. By the end of the visit, the financial aid office had increased the amount of aid and I had decided that I could be happy there. I actually planned on transferring someplace else after a year (where, I don't know), but by the second day of freshman orientation I knew I didn't want to leave. It was at E&H that I found a renewed relationship with God, discovered and answered a call to ministry, and met people who are dear, dear friends to this day.

3. Our first dog, Woody. James and I stopped at a Humane Society on a whim one afternoon and found Woody. We didn't take him home because we wanted to think about it, and then James said he wanted to wait a few more months before getting a dog. I agreed, although I was disappointed because I had really liked Woody. The very next day, James surprised me by bringing home Woody. I was absolutely delighted. It's the nicest thing he's ever done for me. 

4. My CPE residency. After I finished my first unit of CPE in 2005, I knew I wanted to do more CPE, possibly a residency. However, I planned to wait until after I had been ordained and maybe when my children (planned, but unborn as of yet) were older. However, then Danville-gate happened and I was in need of both healing and a ministry venue (I had been offered an appointment by the Annual Conference, but turned it down because it was further west than Danville). My residency offered both, and I am very thankful for both my supervisor and colleagues.

5. Greg. I've already said it best here.

Please Stop Me From Driving to Minneapolis and Throttling These People!!

One of my Face*Book friends posted a link to a story about this website. Check it out for yourself. It may or may not be a hoax, but I find it disturbing regardless.

If this couple and this situation are authentic and not a hoax, then I am simply speechless with rage. I just can't see how anyone could a) abort a healthy (i.e. without a terminal condition) 20-week fetus in the first place, b) especially after viewing said fetus via ultrasound multiple times, and c) ask the Internet to VOTE on whether or not to abort the fetus because they're "not sure they're ready to be parents." I'm in the pro-life camp on a normal day (although I think there are a few exceptions-such as when the mother's life is clearly in danger and delivery is the only option, or when the fetus has a condition that is 100% fatal), but I think most of my pro-choice friends are horrified by this story, too.

If this is indeed a hoax/pro-life publicity stunt, I find it tasteless. There are other ways to make your point besides leading people to believe that they are voting for or against an abortion. Assuming that at least the pregnancy is valid, I hate to think what this poor child will think if/when he or she finds out about it via Google or some other search engine. This entire situation smacks of exploitation and disregard for others.

Just in case this is "the real deal", please go to the website and vote for the giving birth option. And if you would lean towards the abortion option, then I hope you get "lost" on the way there.

Finding My Own Mothering Style

This year, the director of the preschool Susanna attends asked for volunteers to join the Parents' Council. I joined for three reasons: first, I wanted to be involved; second, I hoped it would be a good chance to make some friends of my own (two years after moving here, I still have precious few friends in this area); and three, if I made friends with some of the moms, then maybe our children could become friends.

The purpose of our first meeting was to discuss plans for the upcoming Fall Festival. The church was actually running it, but wanted the preschool to host a few activities for children. I attended the meeting, but had no clue what I would contribute. I had absolutely no ideas. During the meeting, most of the other moms came up with brilliant ideas: face painting, a hayride, a bounce house, painting pottery, story-telling, etc. They enthused about different craft ideas and offered supplies from their personal stash. I sort of sat there and allowed myself to have an inferiority complex about what a sub-standard stay-at-home mom I am because I don't subscribe to Oriental Trading, almost never engage my child in craft projects, and can't tell stories using funny voices.

I'm a good mother. I know that without a doubt. I may only have three years of mothering under my belt (and the hardest part is yet to come), but so far my children are happy, healthy, well-adjusted, well-behaved (at least around other people), and appear to love me and want to be near me. Heck, just tonight Susanna wouldn't let me leave her room until I read her a Bible story (from her kiddie Bible) and allowed her to kiss me.

But I think sometimes society paints this picture of "the perfect mother" and I (along with other moms) get tricked into thinking that unless we do X and Y and Z, we are falling short of the mark. We also compare ourselves to other mothers and maybe even our own mothers, and that does us no good whatsoever. My mom was/is an excellent mother, and there are many of her methods that I use with my children (and some, like "the subjunctive mood" that I'm holding onto for the right time). But then there are things that she did (like sew a good deal of my clothes when I was younger) that I just can't/don't want to do (I tried to learn how to sew, I really did. I even took a sewing class. But my fine motor skills are horrible, and I'm just no good at it. I don't enjoy it, either).

So, I can't/won't sew my children's clothes/costumes. But, I am very good at bargain-hunting and can find clothes that are stylish and good quality without spending a fortune.

I am not one of those moms who can't stand the thought of leaving her children for any length of time. I confess that every time I get called into work, I'm practically leaping with joy at the thought of being with adults for the day. I had no qualms at leaving both of them with my parents overnight last month, and would love to go away with James for longer than that. Of course I miss them and am delighted to see them when I return; I'm just able to enjoy being away from them, too. But, I have made some major professional sacrifices to be a stay-at-home-mom most of the time, and I've found that by spending the occasional day apart from them, I enjoy my children that much more.

I don't do crafts. I have no aptitude or interest in them. However, I send Susanna to preschool and Sunday school so she can have the opportunity to do crafts, and will happily purchase materials and encourage her creativity. I'll do the same for Greg when he gets older. I'm just not going to be leading Susanna and Greg in crafty activities. Ditto for making photo collages or anything else creative.

I don't lead my children in regular devotions and probably never will, unless they ask me to. But I pray for them, and with them, and I read them Bible stories. I also occasionally give theological lectures that are over their heads, but oh well.

Susanna has a partially-completed baby book and Greg has a totally empty baby book. However, chances are that if you ask me when either of them reached a milestone, I can give you at least a ballpark answer. And I have a good idea (also off the top of my head) of how tall they were/how much they weighed at a certain age. And unlike A CERTAIN MOTHER I SHALL NOT NAME, I have kept careful records of their immunizations, in case either of them ever need it as an adult.**

I didn't breastfeed either of them for a whole year, but I certainly put a lot of effort into it, and made it past six months with Susanna (exclusively pumping to boot!) and almost six months with Greg. (NOTE: Not that I think mothers who exclusively formula-feed are substandard. I just really wanted to exclusively breastfeed for a year for my own reasons). And the reason I stopped breastfeeding with both of them was so I could get back onto medications for my ADD and depression. In other words, so I could be sane and happy, both of which are essential for good mothering.

I also don't make my own baby food or buy organic, but also don't feed them McDonald's every day. Most importantly? I FEED THEM, and they're well-nourished and healthy.

Bottom line? While I'm not exactly the mother I "always imagined I'd be" and sometimes fall short of even my own standards, I am a good mother. I am developing my own mothering style, and realizing that so many of these little things aren't going to matter in the long run. After all, I don't remember if my mother did any crafts with me (I'm sure she did) and I certainly don't remember her making my own baby food, but I remember her loving me, and guiding me, and disciplining me when necessary. I remember her being THERE for me, and being my mother. And my hope, prayer, and expectation is that years from now, Susanna and Greg will be able to look back and say the same thing about me. And I believe that if I continue in the direction I'm going, they will.

I am a good mother. I may do things differently than my mother did, and I may do things differently than I ever expected I would, but I AM A GOOD MOTHER.

**When I was going through the process to become a certified candidate in the United Methodist Church, I had to fill out some health information that asked for the dates I received certain immunizations. I called my mom, and she said..."oh gosh, I know you got all those, but I have no clue when. The doctor's office always had that info." So, I called my pediatrician's office, and it turned out they had destroyed my medical records several years ago (since I was now 26 and hadn't seen them in at least six years). So...um...it all worked out somehow! Right! Actually, I've had my blood drawn and my titers (immunization levels) checked, so I know I'm immune to everything I need to be.

Coming Out of Lurkdom

I sort of have a self-confidence problem. When I mention this, I tend to get two different reactions. Reaction #1 (usually from people who know me well) is usually: "[snort] Really? I hadn't noticed." Reaction #2 (usually from people who don't know me as well) is: "Really? You seem so confident and self-assured."

But yes, I have issues with self-confidence, especially when it comes to personal and professional relationships. It's gotten better over the years and I can mask it when I need to (which is why I have no problem entering a total stranger's hospital room and engaging them in deep conversation), but it's still there. Even when it comes to the Internet, which is why I rarely comment on people's blogs. It's not because I don't want to, but because I have this neurotic fear that I'll say something totally stupid and they'll laugh and call me names through their computer screen. And I'll be shut out of the virtual lunch table or something. Yeah, even I think that's ridiculous.

So, I've decided to change that. There are a number of blogs that I have been reading and following for a while (as long as two or three years) and I have rarely, if ever, commented on them for the precise reasons above. These aren't people like Stephanie and Alyssa, both of whom I know in real life (although I haven't seen them in over four years). They're simply people whose blogs I enjoy reading and (frequently) have benefited from reading them in some way. But a few things have recently occurred to me. First, that unless I post a comment that is obscene or really really weird, I have nothing to lose. The worst that can happen is...nothing. After all, most of these fellow bloggers are also mothers and wives, so they have something better to do than talk about Patti and her silly comments. Right? Right. Second, as a blogger myself, I know how much I value comments (HINT, HINT) because it shows that people are reading my posts and appreciating what I read. I also appreciate people linking to my blog and the increased traffic it brings.

The potential benefits (new friendships, new knowledge, increased traffic) of my commenting on blog posts, following new people on Twitter, and commenting on Tweets are more numerous than any potential drawback (and the only one I can think of is absolutely nothing changing, which isn't exactly a drawback.)

So, this week I have made, and will continue to make, a concerted effort to comment on every blog that I have been reading on a regular basis. And if you have been lurking on my blog, or are a new reader, could you please leave a comment? Thanks!

Saying "Bye Bye" to Wally World

About three miles south of us, they're building a Wal-Mart. This does NOT make me happy, because I just don't like Wal-Mart. Let me explain...

There was once a time when I loved Wal-Mart. Growing up in Northern Virginia (inside the Beltway, for those of you who know about those things), I had heard that such a store existed, but I had never actually been inside of one. There were no cheap stores like that in my area; it was Giant, Safeway, or bust. So when I went off to college and entered a Wally World (my personal name for it) for the first time, I felt like I had entered a new universe. There was a Super Wal-Mart about twenty miles from my campus, conveniently located at the same exit as a Perkins, and both were open 24 hours a day. Prime fodder for college students. I spent many hours and lots of money at Wal-Mart, because it had EVERYTHING: groceries, cleaning supplies, makeup, clothes, organizational stuff, etc etc. You could even eat there, because it had a McDonald's. I was a junkie.

I continued to be a loyal Wal-Mart shopper through seminary, because it was cheap and since James and I were both in grad school, cheap was GOOD. When we moved to Danville we had more income, but Wal-Mart was pretty much the only show in town. There were a few Food Lions, but they never seemed to have everything we needed. Wal-Mart always did, so that's where we shopped. But I was getting sick and tired of it...the crowds, the lack of customer service, how it would frequently be out of stock of stuff, etc, etc.

When we moved to Chesapeake, we suddenly had lots of options in terms of grocery stores. There are four different grocery stores within five miles of our house, and the nearest Wal-Mart is eight miles away. We went to Wal-Mart the first few months we lived here, and just got fed up. Again, the crowds, the lack of customer service, being out of stock of something critical (to us) no matter what day of the week or time of day we went. Why were we driving all this way just for a miserable experience? Was it really worth it? And Wal-Mart is known for treating its employees badly. Why should we give them our money?

So, when James took over grocery shopping almost two years ago, he began shopping at our neighborhood grocery store. And guess what? Our grocery bills have not increased very much at all. He stocks up on things when they're on sale (and this store has some great sales), uses the customer loyalty care, and every once in a while I hand him some coupons to use (I'm horrible about clipping coupons). He also buys the store brands if they're a good equivalent to the brand name, and is very good about sticking to the list I give him each week (based on what I want to cook for the next week).

The benefits have outweighed the slight increase in our grocery budget; there are fewer lines, excellent customer service (anytime I have both kids with me someone always insists on helping me out to the car, no tips accepted), higher quality produce, easy proximity to our home (less than two miles away), and they even have the option of ordering your groceries online and having them ready when you pull your car up (OK, there's a $5 service fee. But I plan on using it next time James goes out of town. I think not having to drag two kids through the grocery store is worth $5). I also like the fact that I'm really and truly keeping my dollars in my immediate community.

Just to cement our decision, the other week I was coming back from work and dashed into a Wal-Mart to pick up a few supplies for Halloween. I got what I wanted easily enough, but when I went to check out, all I saw were lines of people at least three deep. No self-checkout stations were open. It was about 8:00 pm. I decided that it simply wasn't worth waiting in line for twenty minutes, and put my stuff back.

So, long, Wal-Mart. I won't be missing you.

Guest Post From Greg

Hi people,
   This is Gregory James, James and Patti's younger child. Also known as: "Greg", "Greggie", "Greggie James", "His Lordship", "McScreamy"...you get the idea. I thought I'd tell you about my day.

    Mommy may have told you that I'm not the best sleeper in the world. Well, I tried to be nice to her and I slept for over ten hours last night. It's the last time I do something nice for her, because I just got mistreated all day...First, Mommy gave me a bath this morning. Normally, I like baths, but Mommy didn't let me play around in the tub for very long. Then, we headed to church. I saw Nani, Granddad, and Uncle Bart when we got there, which was a pleasant surprise. That was the last nice thing that happened for a while...
    Mommy and Nani took me away from everyone else and put me in a DRESS. A dress, people. Sure, they called it a "baptismal gown" and gave me some spiel about how my great-great-grandfather was baptized in it in 1879, but it was still a dress. Next, Mommy and Nani wouldn't let me go see my "girlfriends" in the nursery but made me go into the church service wearing this ridiculous getup. That was embarrassing enough, until I realized that Mommy was carrying me UP FRONT, ONTO THE STAGE. A few minutes later, I heard Mommy and Daddy make a bunch of promises about faith, church, being Christian, whatever, then next thing this guy I don't know very well (Mommy calls him Randy, and says that he's our pastor) poured some water on my face. Dude! I already HAD a bath today, thankyouverymuch. Then he held me up like some sort of prize on display. Finally, we left the stage, Daddy came to my rescue, changed me into some proper little boy clothes and let me go see my girlfriends in the nursery. I breathed a sigh of relief and thought it was over.
      Well, after that ordeal I really wanted to go home and take a nap. But Mommy and Daddy apparently disagreed with that assessment, because they (along with Nani, Granddad, Uncle Bart, Grandma Nina, and our friends Joel, Melissa, and Josh) all went out to lunch and dragged me along. I let them know how displeased I was. Eventually I went to sleep, waking up after a bit to eat some pureed food. They were all taking too long to eat, so I began voicing my displeasure. They were clueless! Here I was, a tired little boy with a soiled diaper who had been subjected to incredible humiliation and on top of all that, MY TEETH HURT! No wonder I was screaming. I was so ticked off with them I wouldn't even smile for any pictures.
     Eventually, we left the restaurant and went home. I got a clean diaper and within minutes was in the comfort of my crib, fast asleep. It will take a while to get over today, though. I mean, really. A dress? Public humiliation? A second bath? Denying me time with my girlfriends? No nap? How much can one little boy take?

Mommy had better watch out tonight. It's payback time, woman.

Addendum to "My Favorite Shows"

I forgot one! I'm also a huge fan of "Brothers and Sisters", which is entering its fifth season. It stars Sally Field, Calista Flockhart, and until recently, Rob Lowe was part of the cast (he left the show, so they killed him off). One of the things I love about "Brothers & Sisters" is that it's a great show for someone like me, who's a fan of family systems theory. It's about a widow (Nora Walker), her five grown children and their spouses/children, and Nora's brother (who "comes out" in the first few seasons), Saul. From a "systems" perspective, their family is a very healthy one, but they definitely have their moments and quirks. One sign of a health family system is the ability to air emotions, resolve conflicts, and laugh together. The Walkers do all of that.

My Favorite Shows

I've never been a huge TV person. Growing up, I had a few favorite shows, but rarely watched more than an hour or so a day. In college, I never had a TV in my room, so I almost never watched TV. When James and I got married and I was in seminary, we didn't have cable and of course I was busy studying, working, and being a newlywed. In fact, I didn't begin watching much TV at all until we moved to Danville and I found myself alone at nights whenever James was teaching an evening class. The fall and spring he was working in Norfolk, I developed a few favorites and would either watch them at night or while I was pumping for Susanna.

My TV-watching came to a halt when I began my CPE residency, because I just didn't have the time. However, last fall , when James installed SageTV, I was able to "reunite" with my favorite shows. I record them and then watch them when I have a chance; while exercising, at night after the kids go to bed, or while cleaning up the kitchen and family rooms.

So, here are my favorite shows, and why I like them:

• "Fringe"- James got me hooked on this, and it's a show we both like. It's very sci-fi and features a "mad scientist" of sorts and an FBI team that investigates paranormal events. Its very different, and that's why I like it so much. 
• "House"- Another show that James and I watch together. Dr. House may be a rather arrogant SOB, but he's brilliant and the last few seasons have shown his human side. One of the reasons I like the show is that I wish that I could be as direct as he could and get away with it. 
• "Desperate Housewives"- My dad actually got me hooked on this show, believe it or not. At first I scoffed at it, but now I find it very entertaining and also a good indicator of human nature. I've also had a good number of "that'll preach" moments while watching it. I'm also simply addicted to the storyline at this point. 
• "Grey's Anatomy"- So many people I knew were watching this, so I thought I'd check it out. I eventually got hooked. I enjoy medical dramas because I spend a decent amount of time in hospitals and am intrigued by medicine. I know that "Grey's" and "House" are not entirely realistic, of course. The constant game of musical sexual partners grates on me, but I will say that I have had more "that'll preach" moments while watching "Grey's" than any other show. 
• "Private Practice"- This is a spinoff of "Grey's" and I really just watch it for pure entertainment value. 

Happy "Gotcha" Day, Simon!

Four years ago today, Simon joined our family. You can click on the link to read the story. Back then, he was a little 8 lb ball of black fur. Now, he's 60 lbs of lean muscle and looks like the picture of the left. It's not that great a picture, but it's hard to capture him well, since he seems to be camera shy.

Next to Susanna, Simon is the best thing to come out of our time in Danville. Sure, he chewed up several hundred dollars' worth of shoes (one pair Birkenstocks, one pair of Danskos, and several of my dress shoes), scraped large amounts of paint off my parents' gate, and just this week ate a loaf of bread and some baby formula. He's definitely not perfect, but none of us are.

However, Simon was there to greet us when we arrived home that horrible night Woody died, and his presence helped us through our grief. He has now been with us for longer than Woody was. Simon is a very cuddly dog, and will happily sit on our laps and let us rub his belly for long stretches of time. We joke that he is our "fertility dog", because one month after getting him, I became pregnant with Susanna. When we were moving from Danville to Chesapeake, he stayed with some friends for a long weekend. Two weeks later, they found out that they were expecting their first child. Fertility dog, indeed!

Simon has been a model of gentleness, patience, and love with Susanna. She loves him, and he loves her back. I can see the same relationship beginning to happen with Simon and Greg. Sure, he licks them on the mouth despite our best efforts to prevent that. But he also has let Susanna sit on him, play peek-a-boo with him (using blankets), and generally abuse him (again, despite our best efforts to prevent that). I don't think we could have gotten a better dog if we'd hand-picked him from a breeder.

It's been a great four years, Simon. I hope we have many, many more with you!We love you.

Just so you can see it for yourself. This photo was taken this January, pre-Greg. Notice the toddler sitting on top of the calm dog. Amazing.

Susanna's Favorite Shows

Last September, we got a DVR-like system (it's called SageTv and it's somewhat complicated to explain. I would have just gotten DVR through the cable company, but that was too easy for James. However, I love Sage now and am addicted to it. So, there.) and our lives changed drastically because we could now record our favorite shows and watch them anytime.

At first, Susanna just had a few shows that we recorded for her: Sesame Street, Curious George, and Ni Hao, Kai-Lan. After we returned from Disney, we added Mickey Mouse Clubhouse to the mix. Keep in mind that we generally only allow her two hours of "TV time" per day, with exceptions made if either one of us is sick. Over the past few months, as she's started school and has been talking with her friends, her taste in television shows has changed. So, here are the shows that are on our DVR, from most-watched to least-watched:

• Dinosaur Train (she's nuts about this show. Asks for it multiple times every day.)
• Sesame Street
• The Wiggles
• Dora the Explorer
• Mickey Mouse Clubhouse
• Curious George
• Ni Hao-Kai-lan
• Blue's Clues
• Caillou (she actually hardly ever watches this; I've stopped recording it altogether, but we still have a few episodes)
• Play with Me, Sesame (cute show on PBS/Sprout) 

You will notice that the Purple Dinosaur (begins with B, ends with Y) is not on the list. He will never be on the list, because James and I ABHOR him and refuse to let Susanna watch his show. I can watch 5,000 episodes of "Dinosaur Train", but I will not watch B----Y.

Raising children in the 21st century is very different than when I was growing up. We had a VCR and videotapes, but I think there was less quality childrens' programming and of course there was no DVR. My brother and I never watched that much TV anyway.

Want to hear about my favorite shows? Stay tuned...

How to Have a Well-Dressed Child Without Breaking the Bank

Confession time: I have become a childrens' consignment shop junkie.

One of the most fun yet frustrating things of raising children is the rate at which they go through clothes and shoes. At three years old, Susanna (who currently wears a size 4/XS in girls clothes) has never been in one clothing size for more than five months. She goes through shoe sizes even quicker; I bought her two pairs of shoes in August and she's already grown out of them. Of course, seasons change, so I basically wind up buying the kid a new wardrobe every four to six months. It gets expensive.

For Susanna's first year of life, she subsisted on 70% gifts and 30% purchases by us. I bought most things brand new at various stores (usually on sale) and did have a bunch of luck at a thrift store. Her 12-18 month and 18-24 month wardrobes were purchased in a similar manner; mostly new stuff that was either on sale or from an outlet. Around her second birthday, I discovered the wonders of the consignment sale/store and began developing my SYSTEM. I'm quite proud of my SYSTEM. Here's what I do:

• At the beginning of a season (July/August for fall and winter stuff, March/April for spring and summer stuff) I hit one of the local "huge consignment sales". I have a mental list of what she'll need for that season. I go through the racks and stacks of clothing in her size and look for the Big Brand Names (Gymboree, Children's Place, Baby Gap, Janie and Jack, Hartstrings). I'll also pick up stuff from Carter's and Osh Kosh, because I know they're good quality. 
• Over the next few weeks, I "fill in" any necessary clothing gaps at regular consignment stores. Again, I try and focus on the pricier brand names. I have a penchant for Gymboree, honestly. I love their stuff, but can't afford to buy it in the stores unless it's MAJORLY marked down. I focus on the pricier brand names because they do seem to be the better "deals", meaning that I'll save 60-70% off retail (sometimes more!) versus 40-50% off retail for Carter's/Osh Kosh. 
• By the time I've outfitted Susanna for the season (which for me, means enough everyday clothes for a week, plus a few extra tops, a couple dresses/skirts, and a  couple light jackets/sweaters) I've spent the same amount as I would have buying everything new at Target/Wally World, but the quality is significantly better. This spring/summer things were kind of crazy (what with the whole newborn and mother with breast cancer situations), so I bought everything at Target and Wal-Mart. By the end of the summer, almost all of it was worn out. Buying the expensive stuff also helps the resale value, which brings me to the next part of my plan. 
• I haven't actually done this yet, but my plan is to re-sell as many clothes as I can. I have about four diaper boxes full of clothes that Susanna has outgrown yet that are in "nearly new" condition. They are Gymboree, Childrens' Place, and private labels. There are multiple consignment shops near me that pay cash for clothes, and I plan on trying them out. My reasoning is that I will at least get a fraction of my money back. 

I haven't mentioned Greg in this equation, because I have bought about two pieces of clothing from him thus far. Of course, the cheapest way to have a well-dressed child is to BORROW clothes, which is what we have been able to do with Greg, thanks to the generosity of some friends who have a son who is exactly one year and four days older than Greg. I just finished sorting, folding, and hanging up his 9-12 month clothes. His dresser is full and so is his closet. We're not expecting to ride the gravy train indefinitely, and when we actually have to buy the kid some clothes, I will begin utilizing the above method.

So, in a nutshell, here's the Patti Money method of having a well-dressed child on a dime:

• Get free clothes from someone else if at all possible.
• Shop consignment sales and consignment shops
• If you have to buy new clothes, shop sales, clearance racks, and outlets
• Re-sell clothes when possible, or donate them to a good friend to "pay it forward". If our friends who have lent us their son's clothes ever have a daughter, I've promised them all of Susanna's 0-12 month clothes. 

Questions? Comments? 

Seven Quick Takes, Sunday Afternoon Edition

1. I totally skipped blogging the past three days because I'm trying to get the house somewhat clean. Emphasis is on "trying." It's not working. I'm horrible at housework and incredibly envious of those women who can have two (or more) children underfoot and still keep a reasonably clean house.

2. Greg is getting baptized next Sunday. We're very excited. He will be wearing the Heirloom Baptismal Gown that his great-great-grandfather wore in 1869? 1879? Anywho, a long time ago. Susanna wore it when she got baptized...at ten weeks of age. Because of all the craziness of this spring and summer, I didn't feel like having Greg baptized right away. So, Greg will be nine months when he gets baptized (Methodist theology does not associate baptism with regenerating grace, so unbaptized babies still go to heaven). It will take a little maneuvering for the gown to fit him, but we're making it work. It's all about TRADITION, darn it. And not wanting to fork over the $$ for a new baptismal gown.

3. I've begun applying for full-time chaplain positions. I love staying at home (most days), but I need to be ordained by 2015 or begin the whole process over again. I need two more years of full-time ministry before I am eligible for ordination. I don't really feel that going back to the local church is an option right now. Therefore, I am looking for chaplain jobs. I applied for three this week, but the job market is fairly competitive in this field, so I'm not sure what to expect.

4. We got a new stove on Thursday. Our old one was original to the house (1994), and while it worked, the thermostat was funky and so things would sometimes take too long to cook or get burned because they cooked too quickly. The new stove is AWESOME. It is a double gas oven, self-cleaning, and BLACK. I love black appliances.

5. We also got a new, over-the-range, microwave. It is also black, to match the stove, of course. Now all our kitchen appliances are black! Woohoo!!

6. I have to  want to buy myself a new winter coat. My current winter coat is "wearable", but I bought it when I was DATING James and we've been married for nine years. There are a few holes in the lining, too. I think a new winter coat every ten years is a reasonable purchase, right?

7. On that topic, I'm deciding whether to buy a traditional, wool coat that will keep me warm even if the temperature goes down into the teens OR buy something lighter that will keep me warm as long as it's above freezing. Here in Hampton Roads, it's pretty rare that it gets REALLY cold and most of my time is spent indoors or in the car. So, I'm leaning towards the latter, especially because that sort of coat will be cheaper. And I can always keep my old coat in case we do get Arctic temperatures.

There you go! Happy Sunday afternoon!

And Then the Fun Began: The First 72 Hours

Our hospital stay with Greg was phenomenal. The staff practically anticipated my every want and willingly took Greg back to the nursery at night in between feedings, ensuring that I would get some sleep. The second night, James slept at home so that at least one of us would be well-rested. While we were happy to be able to take our baby boy home on Thursday afternoon, it wasn't like we were absolutely DYING to leave.

So, we went home (after stopping by the Lactation Store to rent a breast pump, because His Lordship was having latching issues), Greg and I went to sleep, and James went to pick up Simon from the kennel. We ordered Chinese for dinner, and everything seemed wonderful as we gazed at our sleeping son. Susanna was still at my parents house, because my mother had wisely suggested that we have at least one night alone with Greg before picking her up. That was a good idea.

As last as 10pm on Thursday night, James and I felt so good that we were actually considering going to a birthday party on Saturday (for the son of our good friends; he was turning one). That feeling didn't last long. That night was...night with a newborn. Greg is a noisy sleeper, so he kept waking us up (even after we transferred him to the crib in his room). Then, he would do the typical newborn thing and wake up every two or three hours to eat. Nursing was still a challenge, and I was pumping after every feeding to build my milk supply. By morning, all three of us were exhausted. And Greg hadn't done #1 or #2 since his circumcision early Thursday morning.

Our plan for that day was sleep as much as possible in between feed ings. The first wrinkle occurred when the pediatrician's office called around 10:30 am to check on things. They were concerned that Greg had only peed once in 24 hours, so they asked us to come in that afternoon at 1pm. No problem; that gave us time for naps, showers, and lunch. The nap got tossed to the side when they called back twenty minutes later and asked us to stop by the hospital first to get Greg's bilirubin and electrolyte levels checked. Since the hospital is on the other side of town from the pedi's office, that meant we had to leave the hospital by 12:40, which meant we really needed to get there by noon to get everything done, which meant we had to leave the house by 11:40. It was almost 11am. Neither of us, of course, were dressed. James and I quickly took showers, packed the diaper bag, and I pumped as quickly as possible. Neither of us had lunch, because we didn't have time.

The hospital was a ridiculous experience, from the lack of parking spaces (it took James 15 minutes to find one, on the other side of creation), to the staff members who continually asked me, "is he (Greg) here as a patient? Because you know children aren't allowed..." to the receptionist who didn't understand why I didn't have written orders and to the waiting for the actual tests. I bought myself and James some fruit and bottled waters from a cart in the lobby.

We pulled into the pedi's office on two wheels at about 1:15. Greg was crying for many reasons (hunger, his foot had been pricked, and because he was a newborn) and James and I were about to kill each other (not for anything the other had done, just from exhaustion and hunger). There was good news and bad news. The good news was that Greg's bilirubin levels were not high enough to warrant treatment (meaning returning to the hospital). The bad news was that he had lost a total of 12 oz since birth AND was showing early signs of dehydration. The electrolyte results hadn't come in yet, but the doctor didn't think those would be a problem. But basically, our mission for the next 48-72 hours was to get as much food into the kid as possible. The doc outlined a few "what-if" scenarios and what to do (having the on-call doc paged to taking him to the emergency room) that sort of scared me. They ordered me to supplement after nursing either with my own milk and/or formula. We set another appointment for Monday. Mom volunteered to keep Susanna one more night, and I willingly accepted. I missed her, but I was just. so. tired. and overwhelmed.

We got home around 2:30 or so, ate lunch, and I began the nurse/pump/syringe feed ritual. We got Greg down for a nap, James went to sleep, and I was just about to go to sleep myself when...my phone rang. It was the doctor's office. Apparently the morons at the hospital hadn't drawn enough blood to test Greg's electrolytes, so the test had to be done again. I flatly refused to go back to the hospital and asked where else we could go to get the test done. The nurse conferred with someone and said, "oh, you can get it done at the lab at our main office" which is closer than the hospital and has a MUCH LARGER PARKING LOT. Plus, there's less red tape there. Why couldn't we have gone there first? Don't ask.

So, off to the lab we went, where Greg got his heel stuck for a second time. By the time we arrived home, my mother-in-law had arrived at the house. Now I love my MIL dearly and normally am happy to see her. However, I think Jesus could have been waiting in my driveway and my reception would have been lukewarm (probably not, but you get my point). I just wanted to sleep. Screw dinner, screw being a good hostess, I just wanted to sleep and maybe cry a little bit (because I was less than 60 hours postpartum, after all). I hugged Nina, looked at the presents she had brought, thanked her (I think I did, anyway), pumped, threw Greg at them, and went to sleep. A few hours later I woke up and there was a message on my phone from the doctor. Greg's electrolyte levels were normal, thank the Lord.

Friday night was exhausting. Thankfully my milk had come in that morning, so I was able to supplement with my own pumped milk and avoid formula (not that it would have been horrible if I had to use formula, but I preferred to give him my own milk if I could). I was trying to avoid nipple confusion, so I'd nurse him, pump, and then give him about 1 oz of pumped milk via syringe/finger. This was lengthy, exhausting, and had limited success, because half of the milk wound up on Greg and myself rather than in his stomach, where it needed to be. After several rounds of this, I had had enough. I broke out the box of three Medela bottles and nipples that I had bought and began giving Greg the extra milk in bottles. I decided that I'd rather deal with nipple confusion than have Greg under special lights or hooked up to an IV.

So, that's how the next 48 hours went. Thankfully, my milk supply kept increasing, and I was able to begin saving milk in the fridge and even freezing it. Because he was eating more, Greg began (cough) producing lovely diapers. When we saw the doctor on Monday, he had gained five ounces, and the doctor told us we could stop supplementing. At his two week checkup, he was almost at his birth weight. By six weeks, he was a full pound above his birth weight.

We picked up Susanna on Saturday morning and she ignored Greg for the first 24 hours or so. However, Sunday night she suddenly starting paying attention to him and talking to him. It was precious. For the first three or so months of Greg's life, she referred to him as "day-day", which I guess meant "baby" in Susanna speech. Now she calls him "Greg" or "Greggie" and she tells me that he's her best friend.

As "rough" as those first 72 hours were (I put that in quotation marks because it's not like Greg was ever in real danger), I was immensely thankful that for a vigilant pediatric practice, excellent lactation support, and parents who live less than 20 miles away. I think James said it best on his Face*book page the day after Greg's birth: "Having a baby in Chesapeake is way cooler than having one in Danville." Amen.

Greg's Birth Story: It Hurt, I Got an Epidural, and He Arrived

When I first found out that my labor with Greg would be induced, I had a few reservations/concerns. My biggest concern was that I knew that induction at 38 weeks (especially with the possibility of a big baby and the certainty of excess fluid) raised the chance of a C-section, especially an emergency C-section. I really really really did not want a C-section, what with it being major surgery, having a longer recovery time, a scar, and THE PAIN after the epidural wore off. Of course, I'd rather have all of the above and a healthy baby and healthy Patti than the alternative. I was just afraid that the doc might get "scalpel happy" and push for a C-section when it wasn't necessary.

Having those concerns (and also being much more proactive and vocal in this pregnancy than my previous one), I expressed them to my doctor (there were four OBs in the practice, but I knew which one would be doing the induction) and tried to make it clear that unless there was a very real danger for Greg or myself, I wanted to avoid a C-section. Thankfully, he understood my concerns and assured me that the route we were taking (inducing two weeks early b/c of the extra fluid and potential large baby) had the best chance of avoiding a C-section. It also helped that the day before my induction, I was already two centimeters dilated and partially effaced.

The night before the induction, we took Susanna to dinner at Moe's and then dropped her off at my parents house. It was Monday night, and I knew I wouldn't see her until Thursday night at the earliest (she couldn't come to the hospital to see Greg because all area hospitals had banned visitors under 18 because of H1N1). I felt sort of sad, but knew she was in good hands. James and I went home, did some final preparations, and went to bed.

The next morning we woke up around 5am, took showers, loaded everything in the car, and called L&D at exactly 6:30. They told us to come on in. The hospital is very close to our house, so we were checked in and settled in a room by 7:15 or so. Dr. H came in (along with a male medical student) to break my water, but it occurred to me that I should use the facilities first, because I wouldn't be able to leave the bed once my water was broken. He said he'd come back later. I took care of business and the nurse began my IV. They actually had to call in an anesthesiologist to finish the job, even with three nurses trying to get the best vein. Finally, I was hooked up to the Pitocin. Around 8am, Dr. H came back in and broke my water. THAT was incredible...sort of like the Hoover Dam bursting. Apparently Greg had been swimming in an Olympic-size swimming pool. Even more fluid came out once the contractions started. Dr. H said that I could get an epidural anytime, but I wanted to actually "feel" a few contractions before getting my pain relief.

By 9am I was feeling uncomfortable contractions, maybe 3-4 on a scale of 10. By 10:15 they were more in the 5-6 area, so I requested the epidural. By 11am, when I had the epidural (there were two anesthesiologists in-house, and one was in surgery and the other giving someone else an epidural), my pain level was closer to 7 and I felt immense relief within a few minutes. One major difference I noticed between "natural" labor (like I had with Susanna) and "Pitocin" labor was that the latter had very severe contractions, so by the time I received the epidural they seemed almost never-ending, even though I had only been "in labor" for a little over three hours. With Susanna, it had taken 12+ hours for the pain to get this severe.

By the time I received my epidural at 11-ish, I was 5 or 6 centimeters dilated. By 12pm, I was up to 8cm dilated. I was, incidentally, also on oxygen because Greg's heart rate kept dipping. They kept me on oxygen until I delivered. I was also laying on my side to help with everything. I did express my concerns to my nurse (who was awesome, by the way) because I was worried for Greg but also worried that I was on the fast track to an emergency C-section. She reassured me that everything was fine, they were just taking extra precautions.

During all this time, James and I basically hung out. He went down to the cafeteria at one point to get breakfast, but the rest of the time we just chatted, played on our iPhones (I even posted on Face*book!), and James read a book. I had expected labor to be quicker this time around since it was induced, but figured that I'd probably be in labor most of the day and hopefully have Greg before dinnertime. Things progressed a lot quicker than I thought they would. By noon, I was over 8 cm dilated and the nurse let the doctor know "not to go anywhere." By 1pm, I was pretty much fully dilated and we were just waiting for Dr. H and his med student to arrive. It took longer than anyone thought, so they didn't come into the room until about 1:40. They set the room up for delivery and I remember the med student (a male by the name of Vu) holding my left leg up so I could push. Greg came into this world at 2:06pm, smaller than we expected and absolutely perfect.

I don't remember a lot of details about the actual labor, but the delivery I remember very well, simply because it was so wonderful compared to Susanna's birth. When I gave birth to Susanna, they detected meconium in the amniotic fluid and the cord was around her neck. As a result, the OB cut the cord and whisked Susanna over to the isolette to work on her. I don't think she was ever in any real danger, but she was surrounded by nurses for the first 30 or so minutes of her life. Once she was "done", they handed her to James, because my OB was repairing my third degree tear and having a fun time of it, apparently. So I didn't get to hold Susanna until she was almost an hour old.

Within 30 seconds of Greg's birth, the nurse had placed him (still attached to the umbilical cord, still covered in vernix) on my tummy so James and I could meet him. It was an incredible feeling. Dr. H let James cut the umbilical cord, and we spent a few minutes with Greg before the nurses took him over to the isolette to be cleaned up and weighed. Dr. H sewed me up very quickly (apparently Greg did significantly LESS damage to my nether regions than Susanna) and then he and Vu left the room.

I should mention that at the final four visits of my pregnancy, Dr. H said pretty much the same thing, "How big was your first baby? 7 lbs 10 oz? This one's going to be bigger." Then, right before delivery, he told everyone that we were looking at "a big baby". Imagine my surprise when Greg weighed in at a mere 6 lbs 15 oz and was a full inch shorter than Susanna. Alas, I did not get to rib Dr. H about this until my six week checkup, because he and Vu had already left when Greg was weighed.

We spent almost two hours in the room after delivery, because (as I learned later) several other women had delivered at the same time I had, so there was a delay getting us all to rooms. James and I called our parents, sent out e-mail birth announcements and posted stuff on Facebook. And of course we adored our little boy, but he eventually went upstairs to be bathed and examined. By 4:30pm we were in a room on the Mother-Baby unit and I was chowing down on the "post-delivery box lunch" they apparently give all new mothers. I guess you burn a lot of calories pushing a baby out of your body, because I was starving again an hour later, and demolished my dinner when it arrived.

Initially, we had planned for James to spend both nights at home so that he could get some sleep. However, I had forgotten how sore and stiff I'd be after delivery and since I didn't know how competent and attentive the nurses would be (I needn't have worried and could have sent James home: the Mother-Baby nurses at CGH are SIMPLY AMAMZING), I asked James to stay overnight.

We had woken up as a trio, and went to bed that night as a quartet, thanking God for His goodness and grace.

Hospice medical care for dying patients: newyorker.com

Read this. Reflect on it. Yes, it's long. Get over it. In a few days I am going to write a blog post about this topic.

Hospice medical care for dying patients: newyorker.com