The Time I Accosted The Guy In Pizza Hut

Earlier today I was savoring the sweet flavors of Amulek's words in The Book of Mormon. I just love Amulek (really, I do. It's almost a problem). And Alma. And Ammon. And... anyhow. I was pondering on the fact that somehow, this time through this amazing book, I've picked up on something in my most favorite section (Alma and Amulek and the Sons of Mosiah) that I've just never noticed so strongly before -- and that is their reach out to rescue. In so many instances, they responded to cries for help and comfort -- not just when convenient, but immediately. I'm so inspired by this. Perhaps because it is a quality, an action that I so desperately desire in my own heart. That whole "kneel down to pray, stand up to serve, reach out to rescue" thing that President Monson so embodies and inspires in others. I want so much to be always ready to reach out to rescue, to be an instrument in the hands of God like those ancient and incredible missionaries were. I felt peace in my heart and balm in my soul this morning as I read those words written for me and for you.

And then tonight I so clearly reminded myself that I'm sort of like -- way less then close in my journey to get there.
This is how it all came down:
Thursday nights are the nights I teach my classes. Since it's also Foster class time, the Double B was required there, and so that meant I needed to take my kids with me to teach. That's alright, they do pretty well and I enjoy sharing something I enjoy so much with them. But of course, it's almost eight o'clock at night and there is no dinner, so I usually stop and pick something up. Tonight it was Pizza Hut. All in the name of the stuffed crust. As we waited to place our order, I stood uncomfortably behind a young, handsome, good-smelling and goatee-d man as he demanded in a rather unfriendly tone a discount from the clerk for having to wait twenty minutes for his pizza. Now, the clerk was also a young man -- who looked so miserable, so harried, so harrassed, and so unsure about what to do about this more aggressive rooster. You could see the weight of the world on his shoulders as he had no choice but to take whatever the customer wanted to dish out to him. Finally his pizza was on the counter, so he demanded three cups of the extra 50 cent sauce, and then headed out the door. The young, flustered clerk asked "Do you want to pay for them, or...?" To which the accoster said very beligerently "No! I won't pay for them." And headed out the door. At which point, so disheartened that this whole thing was taking place, my mouth opened and out came the words "Well, that was rude!" The two young men stopped -- the one on his way out of the door. He turned to me, and I thought maybe I was going to get it. "Do you mean ME?" he asked. I stared at him in my best fifth grade 'you don't intimidate me' stare and said "Yes." He was shocked. "But I had to wait for twenty -- !!!" And I said "I know, but that doesn't mean you should treat him that way." And then the guy walked out the door. There was silence for a minute, and then I told the clerk how sorry I was that that had happened, that the mean goatee guy didn't need to act that way, and that it made me really sad. I tried to cheerfully place my order and after I paid, the rather awkward clerk said "Thank you for saying something for me. At first I was scared because I thought you were going to cuss me out, too, and I didn't know how to handle two people. But then I realized you were speaking for me. Thanks." And I again said I was sorry he had to deal with that, I know customer service can be really hard.

All the way home I was stuck thinking about the guy I called out. Did I really need to tell him he was rude like that? Did I really need to do it that way? Maybe I could have said "I wish we could speak more kindly to each other," given a gentle or Motherly reminder about civility, or maybe I could have waited until he left and tried to console and cheer up the clerk. But I told that perfect stranger just what I thought, no matter how it would have made him feel. I've always had this problem, literally since the first grade I have been aware of it. If I see someone being picked on by someone bigger or stronger then they are, I can't handle it. My mouth opens of it's own volition and suddenly I am the bigger, stronger one trying to make them see just how it feels.
When I was a kid, it didn't matter how the meanie bully felt, I was just relieved the weaker one was out of harms way. But as an adult, I guess I realize it's a lot more complicated then that.
Not that mean people should run rampant. But I know my own feelings when I told him he was rude. They wanted to be accompanied by a fist in his face.
And that's not right, either.
I know that the Savior wouldn't have handled that experience that way. And I guess I want to know what I could have done to handle it more like him, and then I want to do it.
Yikes.
I'm glad I know I don't have to be perfect now, or I'd be miserable. But I do know I should be getting better all the time. And sometimes it just doesn't feel like that's happening fast enough. I guess I'll just keep working towards that life-long mighty change of heart.

I guess as it's bedtime I'll allow Amulek to comfort me. He called the Savior "Mighty to Save." And as it so happens, that is my favorite -- very favorite -- description of Him. I know He is just that. I know He can tip the scales towards mercy in my behalf.

And maybe sometime soon I'll learn to leave the mean guys in Pizza Hut alone.

Parenting Brush-Up

Last night the Double B and I attended a four hour class for foster parents (or as I like to think of us, Foster Parents to the Stars). It's just something you gotta do -- twice a week. Four hour classes. For the whole month of February. So it was sorta like -- really romantic, as far as Valentine's go. All the other parents in there thought so, too. But at least I was with my significant other. The teacher was going stag, while his wife and children held down the home fort.
In all actuality, if you have small children at home, it's not exactly like you're going to be joining the ranks of couple diners, anyway. We had a family extravaganza planned, but as previously mentioned, we went to a four hour class instead. This time was better, because I brought cheese puffs, and the Double B brought lemon slushes from Sonic. What is it about those lemon (or more powerful, lime) slushes from Sonic that are so delightful? Let me tell you right here and now, if there was a Sonic closer then twenty miles from my house, I would have one every day. And my imaginary friends from Biggest Loser would be so disappointed, because they keep telling me facts about sugar in my sugary drinks trying to get me to stop. Don't worry, though, Bob -- it's not all that close, and I only stop there when I happen to be in town during happy hour. Anyhow.
This Tuesday class was all about child development and yes...once again...parenting. Which is helpful for one and all. But while going through the normal range of developmental stages, the teacher touched on how strong the message is we send to our small children when we use words like "naughty," etc. And it occurred to me... KATELYN IS RUINED FOR LIFE. And then it occurred to me... ALL OF MY CHILDREN ARE RUINED FOR THE REST OF THEIR NATURAL LIVES!!!  I felt guilt (which descends during the 3-5 year old stage, if you are interested). I consider myself a builder of my children, but apparently I need to come up with a new word for when Kate climbs up on top of the computer, the counter, the table, the bookshelf, and the couch then "Crazy-pants." Perhaps if I just explain "I love you so much, and that is why I don't want you to get your skull bashed by the extended drop here" that would help.
I have composed a letter for my offspring to help clarify myself:

Dear Children,
I am not a psychologist. Let's just get that into the open right now.
I don't have many mad skills, though I do have a few.
But I sure love you. And I think that will do for now.
Your friend,
Mom.

Parenting is awesome. This parenting class is long -- though longer for the Double B, since he is the every class attender, and I'm the fifty percenter due to our crazy life right now. But we shall prevail. And my doodles will only get more and more creative, of that I am sure. I may even be able to top "Michelangelo the Hare" -- although that's a lot of pressure. We'll just have to see.

My Valentine Cards

In the name of Valentine's Day, there were gigantic snowflakes last night. It was so beautiful. In the name of Valentine's Day, Katelyn used the two minute window of opportunity this morning to break into Brother's Valentine box, rip open the giant chocolate sucker selected for his beloved teacher, and take frantic bites until it was about half gone. Total shock reigned for about three minutes afterward. K.J., Olivia, Mommy -- we were all at a loss for words. Just stared.
I love this Lovers Holiday. Even when I was young and didn't have a romantic Valentine, I still loved walking around my classroom to slip each individual Valentine into the right box, then I loved knowing I was loved by my family, then I loved Singles Awareness Day.
But today, as discussed in Family Home Evening last night, the Family B celebrates LOVE in all its many colors and opportunities.

Here are my Valentine's (please imagine them on pink and white cards with little hearts all over them):

Dear Parents,
Thanks for always making me feel special. I think you are special! I feel so blessed I was sent into your home. I think it was the Lord's way of giving me a fighting chance. I will be thankful forever for that safety net placement -- I think He must have known I'd need a little extra somethin' that the two of you could give better then anyone else.  Thanks for loving each other and letting me see that love -- yours is a great love story and one for the ages. It could and possibly should be written in a book, but it is your story to tell. Thanks for serving each other and giving so much of your love, time, resources, and nurturing to my brothers and me. We were and are lucky kids!  Thanks for good advice and for listening (and very patient) ears. Thank you for being open with your feelings so we were never afraid of our own, for guiding us through bad tempers and broken hearts and other ailments,  and for teaching us faith, responsibility, and to love others more then ourselves. You did a great job.
My childhood was idyllic -- magical, happy, safe. What greater gift could a parent give to their child?
I know that the only gift I can give back to you is to honor the good things you have taught me, to be true to the faith that my parents have cherished, and to try every day to become the woman you would have me be. I promise to do my best. You have instilled in me the comfort that my best is good enough.
I love you! So much! Happy Valentine's Day!
Love,
Rie.

Dear K.J.,
Happy Valentine's Day! You are one of my very favorite Valentine's. I am so glad you are my son! You make every day a brighter place for me and have always filled my days with sunshine since our very first moment together. You are a very unique person -- you have so many gifts! I don't know one other person as kind as you are. Your great kindness is a gift you carried with you into this life, and I'm so thankful for it! Every one around you loves you because of your big heart. You are the ideal boy to lead your sisters -- by love and example. You are a talented artist, a fabulous builder of legos and other structures, and a great dancer. You are so fun to be around. I love you with all of my heart! I feel so glad that I am your Mom! Dad is so glad to be your Dad! I hope you will take the opportunity to share the love you feel this Valentine's Day. Love is a happy feeling!
I love you,
Mom.

Dear Olivia,
Happy Valentine's Day to a very special girl! You are such a magical person, Olivia. Daddy and I feel so lucky you came to our home and we get to be the parents of a real life princess! You brighten the day of everyone around you. Your cheerful personality and happy freckle-face smile is irresistible! You have more old men and strangers comment on your beauty and angel kisses then you know what to do with, and I know the best secret of all -- you are even more beautiful on the inside! Inside your heart of gold and your clever mind. I love spending every day with you. You make every day fun and every day an adventure. Watching you enjoy your childhood is such a happy thing. I love your bright imagination and your recent obsession with letters and spelling. You are so smart! You are such a joy to me, and you are the apple of your Dad's eye. I love you, I love you, I love you!
Your Friend,
Mama-Sita.

Dear Kate the Great,
I love you! Happy Day of Love! This Valentine's Day rolls around during the great transition in your life from Babyhood to Toddlerhood. It is so fun to watch you grow and change and figure things out -- your personality is out there loud and proud, and you crack us up. You are a fireball! You are making yourself known, and that is a happy thing. I will always miss that tiny, sweet little baby -- you truly were an angel baby and a great joy in that tiny bundle. But Daddy and I are so excited to see this sweet little girl appear before our very eyes. A little girl we love so much! A sweet little girl completely, thoroughly obsessed with shoes.
I love you, Katee Jill. You make me happy!
Your BFF,
Ma-MA!

Dear Mariah,
Happy Singles Awarenes Day! We love you, and that is much better then a boy -- they are partially disgusting, anyway. They are. They really are. It is pretty neat to watch you journey into womanhood. It's an exciting time in your life, and we are glad to be a part of it. We love to see you grow in faith and goodness! I love you, Mariah! The Double B and the kids do, too. We are glad you are a part of our family. You have a heart that is so big -- a childlike heart -- and that is a gift of great worth. That heart that gives you your ability to love and forgive and accept will be such a blessing in your life. Remember that you are in charge -- your life is what you make of it! And yours will be a great one! We love you. Be glad you have us instead of a disgusting and hassle-filled boyfriend! We're a lot better, anyway. Happy Singles Awareness Day!
Love,
Marie.

Dear Husband,
You are my favorite person in all the world. I would rather spend my time with you then do anything else. Isn't that a good thing? When we got married I was absolutely, insanely, wildly in love with you. To me you were the perfect specimen. On our tenth Valentine's together, I am happy to say that I love you even more. That wild crazy love has turned into something much better -- a love, friendship, and companionship worth writing home about. Thanks for working so hard with me to make us work. Thanks for making me a priority in your life. Thanks for thinking my "specialness" is cute and workable, and for loving my strengths and not being mean to my weaknesses. I think you know that your hug is my favorite place to be. You make me laugh. You are a great person, I like you and I like who you are. I can't help the things I say in public -- I say them because they are true. I do love you that much. I am so proud that someone like you could love me back. One of the great miracles of my life.
I have so much faith in you, and I love knowing you have so much faith in me.
Thanks for being my buddy.
Happy Valentine's Day!
Your #1 Fan,
Your Wife. 

Is It Really Thursday?

Katelyn and I are laying low.
Liv is at school for forty-five more minutes, the laundry is folded and waiting for the next load, and Katelyn is entertaining herself on the rocking chair while examining the penny and chatting a little with Mom.
Katelyn really loves little things she can hold in her hand and examine. Luckily, she has stopped putting them in her mouth, so we enjoy watching her analyze her little science projects when she's right next to us. Her VERY favorite little companion? Squeenkies. The older two wanted them for Christmas sooooo baaaaad, which I really wondered if they would really like them once they had them, but what is gift giving if not giving what someone reallllllly wants? They enjoyed them for the day, Kate has enjoyed them every day since. So really, I guess I got the bang for my buck.
You're welcome, Katelyn.

Tuesday was Mariah's 18th birthday. It really sort of became a birthday weekend, and I think she had a good time -- I hope so! Birthdays are important to me, I think it's awesome to celebrate someone and their importance in your life. She's getting older! And the good news is, I think she's slowly becoming okay with that. Seeing a future. Accepting that she deserves to have good things in that future. Trying to really buckle down and prepare herself. All good things. She got a lot of love from the many people that love her, and that made her feel so good. Phone calls, activities, and even flowers from a very nice boy hoping to get asked to preference. We love Mariah. We are glad she is a part of our family life.

Last night Olivia said "Move your tush, Honey!" to K.J. and Mariah as they got out of the car. Apparently they weren't going fast enough for her. Honestly. Move your tush, honey? Where does she get these things? It's always said in the most cheerful and loving way, too. I would love to get credit for her many moments of wonderfulness, but the credit is all her own. She must be making this up as she goes.

In other news, the Double B and I must somehow find a way to split ourselves and be in two places at once. Actually, for the rest of the month, we each need to be in two different places separately and in two different places together, all at the same time. It's a little confusing. I have decided to look at it this way: we can not actually be in two separate places at once. Only one place at a time. Granted, the Double B does watch a lot of Star Trek on Netflix, so maybe he'll be able to figure something out. But for now, it's just one place at a time. And much as I'd like to split myself so conveniently, I can't. So I'm not going to worry about it. I'm just going to do the very best I can and it will have to be enough for all parties. Including the State of Utah.
Look at me slowly learning to relax in my old age.

The End.

And... Scene.

Liv - What are you doing?

Mom - Writing on my blog.

Liv - So you can buy more Valentine's stuff?

Umm... no. No Valentine's purchases being made here. We finally put up our one Day of Love decoration and Olivia was SO disgusted with me. She was kind about it, but she was disgusted. And I guess I don't blame her. I just don't have more stuff for this particular holiday. And I'm not against it! I think Valentine's Day is a wonderful opportunity to tell the people you love that you love them. But apparently I take the minimalist approach. Oh, well. I gotta be me.
One Valentine's Day my parents gave me a Boxcar Children book. AND I LOVED IT. I felt so special. I must have read that book one million times. I was always so amazed at the resourcefulness of those children, livin' it up in the boxcar.
I don't think I could make it in a boxcar.
I like to give my kids Valentine's. It's fun.

Anyhow.

Katelyn has a cold. Red nose. Then she had a hard night so the Double B put her in bed with us -- and then this morning she was mad about who knows what, so she stood up and swan dived off the bed. She has a nice red line across her forehead, a bruise, and a split lip. Basically, it looks like she's been in the ring. Baby Heavy-Weight Champion.
I feel bad for the little flibber-de-diggit. I would also like her to re-assess her temper-driven behaviors.

I used to have a really bad temper as a kid. Did you know that? I wouldn't say I have a bad temper now -- I've worked my whole life on growing up, so that fire is being put out slowly but surely. But sometimes I do still get annoyed. I certainly have my Super Special Crazy Mother Moments. For instance: "Put those chips back in the kitchen! I worked hard to get this room clean!!!" I mean, I dusted. Don't they know I DUSTED? Oh, how the children must cherish these special times with Mom!

K.J. is doing great. He's almost 100% and even got to go back to school today. We really have a lot of thankfulness that he was so watched over. He is the sweetest boy and has handled all this like a champ. But he is definitely ready to re-enter society.
Amusingly, my own body has been a little mad about that glorious bout of stress. I've been stomach flu-like ever since, and it. has. been. awesome. I gave myself a lecture today. It went like this: "Self! It is time to calm down! Your son is okay! He is okay! You may now tell the factory that revenge has been taken and you will try not to do that again! 10-4 Good Buddy!"
I think I listened to myself.

In closing, let me just say that this blog is not going to change the world. But it's nice to be able to talk about your children, holidays observed, the gifts you received as a child and the stomach flu with someone who cares.
Carry on.

The Case of the Missing Appendix

K.J. has led us all on an adventure.
You may be thinking to yourself "Self, this boy looks different for some reason!"
Let me assure you, he is the same boy. He's just Appendix-Free.

That's right, folks. K.J. had an emergency appendectomy! Not everybody gets to say that.

It was not so great.

But he was so brave and we feel so blessed that Heavenly Father was watching out for our family and our son.

In K.J.'s own words:
"I was yelling so much, and crying a little. So we went to the -- what's that doctor's name again? -- to the Instacare. And they had to give me a test, then we went to the hospital. And I had to have a water test, and then a -- hm -- a cat-scan. At the emergency room. And then they gave me a surgery. And I had to go to the children's hospital and stay for a night and a day, and now I'm laying in my Mom's bed. And that's how I'd tell it."

We're looking on the bright side: there are perks to emergency surgery, like -- no school for the rest of the week! Waited on hand and foot! Ramen at will! Cards and treats and phone calls! Visitors! A little sister completely devoted to his every whim and anticipated desire "here's a cookie! here's a picture! here's your treat! here's my left arm -- take what you need!" and a big sister willing to give him all the sympathy he needs, and a baby sister to smile at him because she noticed he was gone and that didn't seem right! I think he feels loved. I know I love him.

Here is the epic story:
On Tuesday afternoon K.J. called me to ask me to pick him up from school -- he had a tummy ache. When I picked him up I could tell he didn't feel well, he was slumped in his chair and then just laid on the couch. But I figured it was a stomach flu and helped him get settled with a movie in that great place of recovery, Mom's bed. Mariah had a therapy session, so I took her over. The Double B called to tell me K.J. had thrown up but felt a lot better and asked me to stop and get some Gatorade. I dropped Mariah off at work and came home, and Little Buddy seemed okay. It seemed alright for me to head to Young Women's with him in Daddy's watchful care. Luckily, young women's was just across the street last night (very unusual), and I headed over and spent the next hour laughing and talking with the Laurel's when there was a knock on the door. Livi had walked clear across the street in the dark to come and get me -- K.J. was really sick and throwing up and they needed my help! We walked back across the street and I expected him to be sick throwing up, but when I came into the door, I could hear him screaming in agony down the hall. He was doubled over, moaning and wailing and obviously in extreme, unusual pain. The Double B let me know he'd been like this about half an hour, they'd tried medicine and he'd thrown it up twice, he'd been given a blessing, and we needed to get him to the hospital. I will freely admit, I do not do well when my children are suffering. And K.J. was obviously in extreme, uncontrollable pain. I was having a hard time handling it. You other parents understand. Every time he'd scream, I'd have a little flip-out. But the Double B needed to take the girls to Grandma's and K.J. couldn't stand for me to leave him, so that meant I had to get it together to get him to the insta-care. He couldn't stand to sit up, so he laid in the backseat while we drove. He could barely stand on his feet to get weighed, he was doubled over and the pain was so great he started to throw up again, but by that time there was nothing left and it was all violent dry heaves. He couldn't walk. Daddy arrived. After they examined him and the tests came back with a high white blood cell count and with his extreme and sudden symptoms, they told us they strongly suspected it was appendicitis and the emergency room and the surgeon on call were waiting for us.
K.J. was pretty frightened, but by the time we made it to St. George he was feeling a lot better. It only hurt him to be jarred or to walk. But whereas at the Insta-care he didn't have a fever, now his temperature was at 100.2 and it was climbing every time they checked.
They monitored him for awhile and ran a few more tests, and then it was time for the CT Scan. This was the worst part of the experience for me. Daddy had to wait in our room and I could only go as far as the hallway outside of the scanning room. K.J. was already extremely nervous because he had heard the doctors mention surgery, but he was very afraid when he saw the big machine, and had no idea what it would be doing to him. Those few minutes after they closed the doors were some of the very worst moments of my whole life. Hearing the robotic voice and whir of the machine and then hearing my little son panicking and crying out in fear while I was on the other side of steel doors was almost more then I could take. I would go through that pain and fear a million times if I could stop him from having to do it even once. I squeezed my arms, trying to keep it together. I begged Heavenly Father to send the Holy Ghost to comfort and strengthen K.J. and calm his fear. I asked Him to help me, too, because I wasn't doing too well. I still felt little relief, still filled with fear -- I told Heavenly Father that I knew His arms were extended to me but I was standing in my own way of relief, to please send me the grace I needed to access that peace and be able to greet my little boy with a smile and confidence. After that, things started to calm down, I could hear the male nurse talking to K.J. to calm him down and explaining what was happening. He told him, "Just twenty more seconds, buddy, that's not very long" and I put my hand on the door and counted slowly (trying to give him some wiggling room here) to twenty. For the record: it was forty seconds. But soon I could hear the machine shutting down and a minute later the doors opened, and there was my baby boy, looking for me and quivering on his bed. Kaje still tears up when he talks about the scary cat-scan machine that told him to "hold your breath." He really hated it. But Mom was there to greet him with a smile and he was happy to see me and be done with that. There was a small delay because the St. George machine reader was down and when they sent it to Provo their machine was down, too, so they had to call the head radiologist and ask him to read them. When the e.r. doctor came in, he told us the appendix was definately enlarged and it looked like the walls were hardening. It was appendicitis. He didn't even get to finish telling us the surgeon was there and the anesthesiologist was on his way and they would be right in to prep him for surgery before poor K.J. started sobbing his little eyes out. He was so scared, he kept begging "It doesn't even hurt anymore! I want to go home! I just want to go home! It doesn't even hurt anymore!" It broke my heart, but after I was able to get him on my lap and soothe him he was able to calm down and listen to Mommy and Daddy and then the surgeon. The Holy Ghost definately came through for us -- by the time they came to prep him, he could get into the bed calmly. By the time we got upstairs to surgery, he was at peace and almost asleep. The very kind anesthesiologist gave him the anti-anxiety medication and some more pain relief and he went right to sleep by himself. One of the Double B's good friends was the surgical nurse on call that night, so we were relieved to know he was in there. The anesthesiologist assured us they would take very good care of our son, and off he went around the corner. As the aide led us to the waiting room, where we basically had the whole floor to ourselves, the tears could finally feel my eyes and I could finally get the strong hug and "it will be okay" from my own personal Snuggie. We both felt such relief, knowing our son was getting the help he so desperately needed. The clock said 12:49 a.m.
After only about forty minutes, the anesthesiologist came out and told us everything went perfectly and K.J. was doing well, and then the surgeon came out. Everything went very well, but there was a lot of puss and infection surrounding the appendix, much more then usual, making him think there was a perforation somewhere in it. It would have burst by morning. They cleaned him out very well, but because of the infection that had leaked out, he would have to stay in the hospital until all the strong antibiotic treatments had been given -- he was hoping K.J. could go home Wednesday night, depending on how everything went.
Soon we were able to go to recovery, and he came out of the the anesthesia easily and well. They transported him in the ambulance to the children's hospital. I was riding in the back with him and thought how strange it was there was no one on the roads, but then the nice ambulance man told me it was 2:30 in the morning! Okay. Well then. That's the only kind of ride in an ambulance you ever want to take, when the emergency is already over with. Seriously.
They got K.J. settled and very comfortable at the children's hospital. He fell right to sleep. The Double B headed home to our girls and I settled in the extra bed for the night. It was about 3:15 in the morning. K.J. did so well -- he would startle awake sometimes, but I would sit up and talk to him and he'd remember and calm back down into sleep. The nurse was so amazed at his pain tolerance -- they should have been giving him morphine, but he didn't need anything until about five o'clock when he woke up with some pain. They gave him a small dose and he informed me it was just like we said: he fell asleep, and when he woke up he was at the children's hospital and his appendix was gone!
He has compared every pain since his surgery to the pain of his appendix, and nothing measures up (thank heavens). He has been such a trooper. After a long, long day at the hospital, playing the wii, watching t.v., coloring, many trips to the bathroom and many visits with the nurse, they gave him his last treatment with antibiotics. His stats had been very good all day and the surgeon gave him the all clear to go home. He was so happy, and we were so happy, to get our little boy home again.
These are the experiences that remind you again what is really important. Our children mean everything to us. We have our family, and nothing else can really matter so very much.
It was a very, very long 24 hours.
We are so, so thankful to a Father in Heaven who is blessing and protecting us even when we don't know that He is. We are so thankful for modern medicine and that we got to the hospital in time -- before K.J.'s appendix could burst. He was already starting to feel better, which gave the doctors even more urgency. We are so thankful for the medical staff that helped us so kindly and carefully. We are so thankful. We can't even tell you.
And now K.J. is sleeping peacefully in Mom and Dad's room for one more night. And all is right in our corner of the world.

Out Of Many Voices, One.

'I've built walls, A fortress deep and mighty
That none may penetrate
I have no need of friendship
friendship causes pain
It's laughter and loving I disdain
I am a rock,
I am an island
... I won't disturb the slumber of the feelings that have died
I am a rock,
I am an island
I am shielded in my armour
Hiding in my room, safe within my womb,
I touch no one and no one touches me.
I am a rock,
I am an island
And a rock feels no pain, and an island never cries.'

-Paul Simon

Have you ever heard the logic that "It's my life, so it can't hurt you?" That somehow, whatever we do only affects us and it's ridiculous to suggest it could hurt anyone else? I'm sure you all have. I don't think many of us reach adulthood without experiencing it. For myself, that logic and it's deception and destruction first became very clear in my life when I was twelve years old. Someone I loved very much was making dangerous choices, and it caused me such terrible pain because I loved them and looked up to them. But when I expressed those feelings, I was told I was wrong -- that I couldn't be feeling real pain because it was their life and it had nothing to do with me. At that moment, everything changed. And I realized forever that My Life is not my own. That everything I do affects everything around me. Everything I touch is influenced by my choices. And everyone I love holds rights to my love and actions that I am beholden to protect.

Are any of us rocks?
Are ANY of us islands?


Today I am comforted by the words of John Donne:

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as a manor of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

So here is my heart:
any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. I am involved in mankind. Nothing can change that. Sometimes that twelve year old still comes to me, wounded and confused. But I remind her of her own responsibilities, just as I remind and bandage myself now, and commit once again that now and forever I am responsible not only to myself, not only to God, but to others. Because whether I want it or not; whether I acknowledge it or not; they are still there. Reaching out for me as I am reaching for them. And I will give them the respect they deserve. I will give myself the respect I deserve.

It doesn't matter how many names I am called. It doesn't matter how sharp the lance is, how aggressive the blows, how repetitive the attack. I know who I am. I know where my allegiance lies. And no one can change that. No lies can change that. And I can not, I will not forsake that knowledge. I owe too much to too many other people.
I have shared these words by William Ernest Henley before, but they bear repeating. And this time, I share them with myself:

'It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.'