Tears of Joy

Last Friday I had my 6 week post op appointment. My hope was that the new X-ray would should healing of the fracture and that maybe I could start putting a little bit of weight bearing on the crutches. I was nervous to hear that the fracture, again, wasn't healing.

Healing was on my side! The surgeon and his intern came in with huge, meaningful smiles on their faces. They said my fracture was healing really well. I asked him if he was just saying that. Partly out of being a smart ass and partly because over the last year I have rarely received good news about my hip recovery after a difficult surgery.

They placed my new X-rays on the light screen to show me the good news.

The circled area was an X-ray taken 10 days after surgery. You can see a dark shadow of a line that travels all the way past the middle screw.  That is my fracture. The second photo was at 6 weeks post op, with an arrow pointing to damn near the only part of the fracture left to heal. It's filling in nicely!

He then informed me that I could ditch the crutches while around the house, unless my hip felt tired or sore, but to use them when I am out and about. I repeated what he said to make sure I was hearing that correctly, that I could walk, crutch free around home after only 6 weeks? My first surgery left me on crutches for over 4 months, and a painful limp ever since. 

He told me he was signing me up for physical therapy to help strengthen my right leg muscles. I haven't used them in 6 weeks and they were violated twice during surgeries. He said I should be goden by Christmas. My husband and I exchanged giddy hand shakes with each doctor and they left the room.

I immediately started sobbing tears of joy. I've heard about crying tears of joy, but besides being a little teary eyed when my son won his super bowl, or when I saw my step daughter on stage for her first tap recital, I had no experience of real life tears of joy.

I was sobbing uncontrollably. My hands covered my mouth as I stated at Louie sobbing. It wasn't about being able to walk after 6 weeks of crutches. It was about healing and better to walk so soon. It was about experiencing progress after experiencing over 14 months of pain and disappointment. 

Louie took my crutches from me and asked if I'd like to try taking a few steps to him. I cried harder and blubbered the words "I'm scared!". He held out his hand to me and with my very weak leg, I waked a few steps into the safest place I know, Louie's arms. He held me there with a comforting grip while I cried some more. 

I couldn't stop crying, and I didn't want to! These tears of joy were intoxicating. All the emotions I had went through or held onto the past year were flooding out of my soul with one, long, 10-minute sob-fest of happiness. 

I looked for the doctor to give him a hug but he was on to the next patient. I'll be seeing him again in two months, hopefully with more good news and more tears of joy, although I'm not sure I can top that last one.

I went from having a painful fracture, to having a painful surgery with a painful recovery. The hardware fixated to my bone was large, painful and invasive to my life.

This was the first hardware I had put in. The fracture is circled and never united.

This piece kept me from sitting long, walking long, standing long, including not sit certain ways at all. It was painful to drive as it dug into my muscle with every left turn and ached horribly while sitting still and having my foot on the gas pedal. 

My new surgeon removed the hardware, fixated new screws, 3 of them in an inverted triangle, and filled up the gaps from the old hardware with a special bone cement.

A much smaller incision, less brushing, no infection, smooth and steady recovery.

There are screw holes left in my demure that are expected to close in about 2 more months. 

This bad boy below is out, and for now I carry it around in my purse until I decide what to do with it. It symbolizes so much for me and I'm happy to hold it my hand instead of my hip.

Thankfulness- 30 days wrapped into one.

Every year I see several friends make their daily posts about something they are thankful for, for each day of November. I enjoy it. I enjoy the thought provoking challenge, and I enjoy seeing all the positive gratefulness in my news feed. I, however, can never remember or commit to a daily posting task, I'm horrible with that. So, I thought I'd write a simple blog post about 30 things I'm thankful for in honor of the month that celebrates Thanksgiving.

1. I am thankful this last surgery is going so well. There is a new light down the road to brighten a journey that was a large and difficult part of the last year of my life.

2. I'm thankful for the extra time I have had with my husband. Even though the time off has come with some other struggles, him being here and taking such good care of me, taking on my typical duties, and being a dedicated part of my recovery has made all the difference in the world to me, and my hip!

3. I am thankful for friends of all kinds, old, new, and close, and just close enough. The exchange of loyalty and support is irreplaceable. 

4. I'm grateful for being a stepmother. It can be a tricky job, but it is crucial and rewarding. I'm lucky to have the closeness that I do with my step children, especially as they are getting older. We have a mutual love and respect for one another that keeps our bond tight. I choose to be a mother to them, and they chose to accept me as one. They have a special spot in my heart.

5. I am thankful for my children. I carried three precious babies and have them here with me day after day. I've learned so much from them, about love, about living, and about innocence. I learn about myself just by seeing myself in them, and I learn about independence by seeing their unique personalities blossom every day. They will always be that twinkle in my eye and that fullness in my heart.

6. I'm thankful for my husband. Not everyone finds the significant other that balances them so well. The love and respect we show to each other comes easily. Trust feels equally natural to the both of us, so all that is left is to appreciate and enjoy each other. 

7. I appreciate the quiet time I get to myself. Whether it be sipping my coffee on the front porch, knitting in the sunshine in the backyard, or just some reflective moments I get for me to collect my thoughts, those moments are vital to who I am.

8. I appreciate my sister. We have shared so much. We shared a childhood, we shared parents, we shared fun memories,  and heartbreaking pain. We were, and are, by each other's side, always. We understand each other in a way that no one else could, and that is something special. 

9. I am thankful for my mom never hesitating to tell me that she is proud. Some people are left wondering, but from her, I always know. I'm sure that has played a role in my confidence.

10. I am thankful for my family's health. Besides a few surgeries, and the kids having asthma and allergies, we are a healthy tribe.

11. I am thankful for Pandora. I love Pandora, to pieces.

12. Netflix too, I love Netflix, to pieces.

13. I'm thankful that my youngest child still says some words wrong. Like, saying a "w" sound instead of the "L" sound. "Wowypop"  Or how he calls my crutches "crunches".

"Mom, here is your crunches so you can crunch at Walmart." Too cute

14. I'm thankful for people who "get it". Those people who have it figured out, how to be themselves and enjoy others for who they are. 

15. I'm thankful for foul language. Sometimes there is nothing better to express your feelings than some good old fashioned cursing.

16. I'm thankful for my past, even the parts I'm not fond of, they have made me who I am today.

17. I'm thankful for all the new options of non-dairy creamer. I am no longer limited to the typical chemic-filled kind or soy. 

18. I'm thankful for my new super short haircut, because it practically manages itself.

19. I'm thankful for my step-dad. He never over stepped, and he's always been there for me, especially the last few years when I've needed him the most, whether he knew it or not. 

20. I'm thankful for Pete's coffee. Need I say more? 

21. I'm thankful for every dream I have about my dad, because I wake up feeling like I spent a little time with him. 

22. I'm thankful for spiders. Just kidding, I fucking hate spiders! (See also #15) they make me fear for my life irrationally.

23. I'm thankful for the cat that hangs out on my front porch and sometimes naps on our brick pillar, but never shits in our yard. Way to be cool, cat.

24. I'm thankful for the mini heater by my bed. I'm a real puss about the cold and it makes bedtime all cozy again.

25. I'm thankful for hard times. They suck, but they are humbling and remind you of your strength and what truly matters.

26. I'm thankful for tolerance. It certainly isn't everywhere or in everyone, but the more tolerance we project, the better human race we become. 

27. I'm thankful for family. Family can be so many things. They can bring joy, stress, happiness, judgement, irritation, and smiles, but there is always a beauty to family. They are your people.

28. I'm thankful I'm almost to #30. This is a long list and I'm starting to see why they break it up into a daily post. 

29. I'm thankful for my small-ish town. I enjoy the community we live in and being a part of it, rather than just living here.

30. I'm thankful for truth. All the truth around me. True people, true lessons, true meaning, true possibilities, and true worth.

Peace out November, it's been thankful. Hello December! 

Big Family Zone - You Might Have a Big Family If...

I was thinking today about how different it was when I had only one child. I was a single mom with one boy. I suppose it was hard doing it alone, but it was also all I knew of parenthood. It was just him and I from the start.

When Louie and I moved in together and started having his son and daughter (my now step children) on a regular schedule, we all of a sudden had three kids! They were 5, 4, and 2 years old. It was new and felt like a lot of work!  The weekend would feel like a whirl wind of little loud voices, tattle telling, laughing, crying, arguing, hugs, scraped knees, bike rides, picky eating, and lots of love.

I was used to one kid. This meant one bath before bedtime, one meal to accommodate only one little person's pickiness. This was one kid to keep track of while out and about. This was the time of one kid to buy tokens for at an arcade. The time of throwing one birthday party a year. Bickering was never an element in our lives, as my son had no one to bicker with. I would soon learn that he is the most argumentative child I would have. A time of worrying about one kid's happiness and health was no more.

I remember the weekend that I had a realization. I was watching the three of them go from room to room, leaving trails of whatever they were getting their hands into. Toys and books were everywhere and without notice, they were off to the next thing! It was too much chaos and too much mess. It was then I realized that it needed management. I never thought of it that way with one child. Things were pretty simplistic, there was no need to make it more complex by adding unnecessary schedules. We had a nap and a bedtime, and he had daycare while I had work. Three little people though, with no management was chaos.

I know this is a crappy quality photo above, but this is the photo that depicts our life perfectly when we were new to three. We were tired, but happy, and had kids climbing all over us, some happy, some rowdy, and some grouchy. That was three.

I remember the very moment I had everyone clean up their mess to get ready to play with clay. I had them sit at the little Wiggles table together. It was time to play with clay. That was all we were doing and we would not be moving forward onto anything else until playing with clay was over and cleaned up. I immediately felt the confidence I needed to be a mother figure to three young kids when just the prior weekend I was the mother to only one. 

We moved on to dinner. After dinner we took turns on getting these three baths done. We read a story before bed, and we tucked our wild ones in. I have to admit, car rides were challenging. We were trying to squeeze three boosters into the backseat of my Chevy Malibu. It was hard to buckle, it provoked whining and arguing. Dad had a great idea to keep the belts buckled and let them slide in and tighten it up once they were in. This saved us, another wise management desicion. We continued to become better "managers" and adapted to our new roles as a step mom and a step dad and the dynamics that came with the territory.

A little over a year later, we found out we were having a baby together. A little girl. This meant four kids! To me, four kids was stepping into "big family" zone. I always felt that 1 or 2 kids was a "small family, and that 3 kids was "medium", but 4 and up? That was treading on territory where it could be possible that all the stockings may not fit on the mantel at Christmas!

That year was huge, I got married, I became a step mother to two children, I spent my pregnancy helping to care for my dad while he lost his battle to cancer, and I had my baby girl. We decided I would not return to work. I stayed home with the kids and we ended up buying our first home in a new town. This is where we decided to have one more baby. Five kids!

We were having a boy! He had two, I had one, then we had two together. His, mine, and ours. There is no doubt at the 5 kid mark that you are in the "big family" zone.

Here are some signs:

Making sandwiches for lunch requires an entire loaf of bread.

A regular size box of cereal will barely make breakfast happen. And neither will a gallon of milk.

No one likes the same veggie. Except corn on the cob, everyone likes that.

A normal size box of cheeze-its, will only last as a snack for one trip to the park, not a snack for the week.

You need a vehicle that has a third row.

When at local festivities, they already know to discuss what flavor smoothies (or other fun beverage) to agree on because we are NOT going to buy five over priced smoothies! It will be one for the boys, one for the girls, and one for the little guy to share with mom and dad.

There is lots of arguing. Like, a lot. It's mostly about the most stupid shit you could imagine. Other times I hear a valid argument and let both sides plead their case. There are 5 personalities that think they are right and often feel they have been wronged, so again, lots of arguing.

No matter how much arguing has occurred in a day, they will band together and stand up for one another like a small, loving Gang, if an outsider intends to do harm.

You don't invite many kids to the birthday parties you throw because your own children are like a small party already.

When everyone needs new shoes, it's a big deal.

No one likes dinner at the same time, ever. Someone, always, will say they don't like it.

Special one on one time can consist of running an errand with momma without your siblings, it does not have to include a stop at an ice cream shop or some special event, the focus truly is the alone time together. You cherish it as much as they do.

Picture day is a little hectic 😳

Laundry. That's all I have to say about that.

Showers are quite the process.

You develop a habit of counting your kids when you are out. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, OK" Then one veers off from the crowd, "1, 2, 3, 4, ...... Dammit! Where's your brother?!?!"

When you are out in public, no one has to use the bathroom at the same time, but at home everyone has to pee, causing an argument of who gets to go first.

People will make comments like "wow, you have your own basketball team", or "I don't know how you do it!", or maybe "you sure do have your hands full".

There are also people who make amazing comments like "good for you! You don't see as many big families anymore!", or "that is beautiful". 

Your house is exploding with love and diverse personalities.

There are so many smiles in a single day.

You never feel guilty about using the carpool lane.

Holidays are filled with extra love and joy, and lots of mugs of hot chocolate. 

Seeing your small, loving gang get along and love one another is a priceless beauty only you can understand.

Now don't get your panties all bunched. I am in no way implying that being parents of one or two kids is a piece of cake, I've been there and most of the above still applies, but I would say at 5 kids, it intensifies a bit and is always a little louder.

😉

I know a few parents who have more than 5 kids. I'm sure you can add some more signs of a big family to my list! 

For someone who doesn't like noise or mess, I sure do enjoy this large family we have created and teamwork it takes to keep it flowing. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Friendships. Old Friends, New Friends, Changed Friends.

Isn't it much different making friends as an adult compared to let's say being a kid, or being in High School, or even a young adult?  I cherish that I have many friendships of different kinds.  I've had my friendships that will be alive forever.  The ones that have been with you for so many stages of your life.  I have three dear friends that I met in Junior High that I still consider my "best friends".  We could go for long stretches without talking but it is mutually understood that we love one another unconditionally and are friendship isn't going anywhere, it's here to stay. These are the women that knew me as a teenager, they know all about my rebellion, my sweetness, my mistakes, the pain I have been through, and the happiest moments of my life.  I know all of theirs as well.  We go for long periods of time when life gets busy and we don't talk and then there are times we make time to talk or visit.  We are at weddings, funerals, births, the important moments tie us together a little tighter with each one.  There is something about my old school "best friends" that ground me when I see them.  Maybe it reminds me of the younger care free girl I was, or the growth I've experienced since the old times. It's a special bond to carry a friendship through so many stages.

Then I made some friends as a young adult.  Some we try to keep in touch and a few of us are still very close.  We partied hard together, consoled one another after break ups, talked for hours about life and our ideas, hung out every weekend, and sometimes became more than friends. These are friends that were there during a very wild, confusing part of life.  We were all on the verge of becoming real adults that would soon jump into the real world of responsibilities. We then watched one another mature, meet our spouses, settle down, some of us had children.  We shared special times together when there was parts of us alive that aren't there any more because we have tamed ourselves (yes, I was a wild one at times, dealing with some demons the only way I knew how). Some of these friends knew that, or figured it out, they know parts of me that new friends do not. These friends were all a part of vital time in life during the gateway to becoming a real adult, and I love them to pieces. Both sets of friends would be the ones to notice that after losing my father a big piece of me was gone for a while.  The funny girl was gone.  My laugh and smile were gone unless I forced them out.  I wasn't me for a while.

Then we have the new friends.  The friends I made since moving to a new place 6 years ago.  I met them when I was trying to get myself back.  I sometimes wondered if they would ever know the funny girl who laughed a lot.  I'm happy to say she came back and they know her well. 

I was lucky to make many.  The process was different though.  I met many people all at once, making it very difficult to see who was a real friend and who was more of a friendly acquaintance. It took time. We were all adults, we were all mothers, we all had a common ground.  This in itself gave me the illusion that everyone was at the same maturity level and understanding of friendship. This does not mean we were all meant to be close friends, which some did not grasp.  There were times I trusted when I shouldn't have. There was times I shared things and shouldn't have.  There were times when I could tell I was being put in the middle of things.  There were times when I knew there was jealousy from others for becoming close to particular people.  It amazed me how much effort and energy this took!  To deal with all of these feelings and emotions from everyone else, and watching them do the same.  We all seemed to exhausted, and it wasn't just from taking care of kids all day. I was dumbfounded when I would learn that this group of ladies would talk about that group of ladies.  Or when someone claimed to be a friend to another, but when one negative thing was said about her, she ditches her all together.  I've made a friend only to have her drop me like a hot cake with no explanation when I was under the impression that she cared about me and our friendship for quite some time.  I saw a lot of heart break happen and it was sad.   I didn't see it right away. All I saw was how great it was to have this support system of women.  It was new to me and it was priceless. We are grown women, with children, I would have never anticipated the drama and complexity this large circle entailed. 

It got complicated.  If I hung out with one small group, it seemed to be an issue when I hung out with another small group without including everyone.  This was not in any way based around me, just in general I saw it happen to many people. People started to group us all as one solid person, forgetting that we are individuals who have different relationships with each other.  We didn't need to always be "the 4 of us" or the "3 of us", everyone is their own person and can spend their time how they please without it offending anyone.  I had came into this group of wonderful women with the idea that we were all mature, we were all adult women with children.  I was so surprised at how much sensitivity, jealousy, and insecurities were flying around.  It opened my eyes. When I first became aware I was turned off by it.  I am the type that if I feel even slightly smothered or hunted, I disappear.  I need my freedom and alone time, with any relationship.  I am independent and I sometimes don't feel social at all.  I don't ever want to feel obligated to anyone just to make them feel better. I spent a good portion of my life people pleasing and I'm on the road to retirement from that.  I can't do needy and I can't have someone not respecting my time as well as their own.  I have bigger fish to fry in the world like the focus on my marriage, my family, my passions, and my goals to worry about who is kicking it with who or what passive-aggressive comment might be meant towards who on Facebook.

However, after feeling disappointed and even angry about some of these behaviors, and after backing away from it all, I started to see it in a new light.  I realized that I needed to see people for who they are.  Some people are very sensitive.  Some people have debilitating insecurities.  Some people easily feel rejected.  I have come too far to go accommodating every one's personal needs before my own, but I could become understanding.  I had to understand that some of my friendships would change and that that was OK. Some friendships would become more like friendly acquaintances.  Some friends you may not spend time with anymore but running into them and exchanging a big hug and "how are ya?" is wonderful. Some friendships would become distant but still loyal if ever either of us were in need of help or praise. Some became lifelong friendships that I don't know what I would do without.  Some became nothing and some became questionable.  Some would take too much effort and it shouldn't be that hard.  Some would be tested and some would be forced.  Some you just have to let fade. In younger  years when friendships were no longer their was usually huge drama behind it. As an adult it's important to realize and accept change, it's so much easier on the heart. There are those times when things get dirty and friendships end with high emotion and that is unfortunate.

I've seen friends that went from being as tight as they come to becoming fake-friendly acquaintance. I've seen close friends become strangers.  I've seen people who weren't so sure about each other become a tight knit pair.  

It's more complicated as adults, we are focused on family, marriage, we are experiencing deaths, tragedies, special events, we are learning that we can't always rely on the people we thought we could, there is so much going on in this stage of life, we really need our friends.  With how connected we all are now through social media, we tend to compare ourselves.  We see the posts from the mom who complains about being so busy all the time, even though we are all busy in our own ways and some choose to stay so busy.  There are the posts that brag about all the great donating and volunteering they do, making sure everyone knows how wonderful they are.  There are the posts about how wonderful their marriage is, when they may have just made up after a huge fight.  Its not real.  Real is being there for someone and knowing them, not their posts on the Internet. My advice would be not to worry so much.  You do what you do. There is no one you  need to keep up with.  Do what feels right for you and your family.  No one needs to be a certain way, we are all different and that's what makes great friendships, loving the differences in each other.  Follow your gut on who is true to you.  Don't expect to be a part of everything. If  your friendships are real there shouldn't be a reason to feel insecure.  Is this person there for you when you are in need?  When you ask their advice, do they give it to you straight?  Are you hanging out because you enjoy  your time together, or because you want to post it on social media for someone else to see?  Do they care about your feelings?  My biggest factor in a friend, a close friend that I trust, is are they real?  Are they the same person all the time, no matter who is around? Are they honest? Maybe they are not, that's OK too, I can still like them and enjoy their company now and again and love things about them.

Easier said than done, but try not to be hurt when friendships change.  Be hurt if it hurts, but try to move on. Remember that life is constantly changing and people come in and out of our lives for so many reasons. When you have a few people who offer you the support of caring about you.  The support of encouraging  your dreams, the support of a helping hand and an open ear. The support of being real and sharing laughs. Friends that understand when you need to be alone. The support of keeping your secrets.  The support of being genuinely happy for your accomplishments, this is the good stuff.  This is what friends, of all types are made of.

The whole experience of old friends, new friends, lost friends, and changed friends has been important.  Once you understand that it is all a part of the circle of life you can see the good in it all rather than feel upset or let down. I don't regret a single friendship, however or long or short lived it was. Even when things end, there was something to be learned. 

So keep making friends!  Keep your close friends dear to your heart, offer big genuine smiles to your friendly acquaintance friends and be open to new friends, keep it simple.  Once things get too complex it will eventually become toxic.

Dear Dad,

It has been a long time since I have had such a strong urge to pick up the phone and call you. Sure, it has crossed my mind tons of times how great it would be to call you, I even dream about calling you. Although in my dreams when I call, you are sick and lonely and I fall apart realizing that I forgot about you, leaving you to care for your dying self, alone. I try to get to you but you seem uninterested. I hate those dreams. I wake up feeling horrible and lonely and ashamed. The dreams where you visit me though, those I cherish. Although my heart is broken when I wake up to remember the reality that you are gone, I still have the warmth of your brief subconscious visit. 

Tonight though, tonight I held my phone in my hand wanting to call. I felt just for a moment that I really could call you, I almost felt years of relief rush into my heart at the idea. I was excited and confused at the idea, in disbelief. Then of course, reality set in. Disbelief is the reality because I will never speak to you on the phone again, only in my dreams.

Sometimes it feels like just yesterday I saw you and other days it feels like the many years it has been. 

It seems like there is something about when the season changes. I get extra sensitive, I need you more and the fact that you are gone seems more real than most days. Maybe because a new season is about change. The weather changes, the activities change, the clothing changes, drinks and food change. You being gone never changes. You continue to stay gone. I want you back so badly and I'm helpless about it. There is nothing I could do or say or write. There are no amount of tears or yelling. I know you are here with me, but it sure would be nice to have a hug once in a while, a hug from my dad, your huge hands patting my back.

As I sit on the porch writing this in tears, the weather is changing around me. It's windy and cool. I'm changing. I'm open and raw but, you being gone remains the same. As the season sets in I will feel better. It won't be something new without you anymore, it will just be Fall. 

Everything that is new without you is hard. A new house, a new baby, a new experience, new excitement, new fear, new surgeries, new hobbies, but no you.

In a way it teaches awareness and appreciation. Maybe  I wouldn't see things so deeply and mindfully if you were still here. They wouldn't be so new. They wouldn't be so noticeably different than before you were gone. 

I remember when you were sick and Spring set in. I remember having a hard time with it. I remember you asked the Chaplain to come talk to Sarah and I with you, about you dying. I recall bursting into tears about the fact that it was Spring and you never come visit much anymore and last Spring you came over all the time. You, being the sweetheart that you were, tried soothing me and apologizing for not visiting. I laughed through tears and said "no, no of course you can't come visit much, that's why we come visit you. It's just something I notice about the season changing and you aren't at my house as much, it's just new and I hate it". I did not know that it would feel new to me every season for this many years. I still hate it, but it does spark wonderful memories. 

I just found myself feeling so sad and lonely holding my phone in my hand realizing I couldn't call you when it felt, just for a moment that I could. So instead I wrote. I wrote it out and freed it all to the new Spring wind outside. 

Yolanda stopped by just as I was done crying it out in the bathroom (my favorite crying place). As I sat and listened to her talk I couldn't help but think about how she was initially going to have you walk her down the isle at her wedding. The thought was comforting, like your huge man-hand patting my back hugs or the way you always called me "Girl". What a great and noble thing. She didn't know you long, but she knew you were great and loving, and that your smile was always real. She knew you treated her well and adored her husband to be. She knew because those things were easy to see in you. 

Thanks for taking my mind off of sadness Yoli, even if you didn't know it. ;-)

So I feel more calm again. I feel relieved to finish up all those intense emotions (for now). I'll hope for a visit from you in my dreams. 

I miss you dad, like, a lot.

All my love, 

Jenny ("Girl")

All the baby stuff is gone!!

A few months back I remember feeling a tad emotional as we got rid of Andrew's toddler/crib mattress. He is the last baby of the house. He was moving on to a regular twin mattress. 

I started thinking today about the fact that all the baby stuff is gone! There is no evidence in the house of a baby residing here. Well, I guess that is because he isn't technically a baby, he is three and a half years old.  He IS the baby of the house though. Our kids are 13, 12, 10, 6, amd 3 this year. 

I sat here itemizing the missing baby items in my head. No baby matress. No stroller. No little baby spoons. Well I have a few but I use them for my loose-leaf tea now. We ditched the sippy cups well over a year ago along with diapers and pull ups. The nobly was over before age 2. No more carriers, baby toys, attachments for random baby gear. 

What is left? Well, a car seat for at least 7 more pounds and some plastic kid bowls. The bowls will stick around for a while, there is always a good use for a tiny bowl. Recently all the toys moved upstairs. We moved "the baby" into the boy's room and his previous room is more of a playroom now, video games, toys, movies. Of course he still sneaks toys back downstairs but over all it is mostly toy free.

I have to say, as sentimental as it is sometimes, it is nice to have my house back. Don't get me wrong, there are still 5 kids here leaving their stuff all over, but the bonus of my baby becoming a big kid is that my house doesn't have to look and feel like a preschool. 

I miss those enchanted baby days of tiny feet and coos and swaddles, and the scent of baby head as he laid on my chest and I would him the national anthem to him (I have no clue why, but that was what I always sang to him), but I love my baby turned big kid and all the fascinating things he has to say. I love that he dangles from the kitchen sink to rinse his own dishes off and offers to unload the silverware from the dishwasher. I love that he randomly brings me a thoughtful glass of water. I love that he teases me by telling me he is Daddy's Baby, but when alone he hugs me and says he is mine. I love that he made his own peanut butter sandwich yesterday and was beaming with pride. He can buckle himself in, but I like that he can't unbuckle ;-)

I love that he falls asleep watching my iPad.

I no longer have to make sure the diaper bag is set to go as if I am preparing to go camping just to run to the store. All he needs now is a pair of matching shoes (he wore a tennis shoe and a sandal to school a few days ago), whatever, he had shoes on, right? 

The last baby in the house is a big kid now. OK, he is a little kid, but he's not a baby! We are entering the next stage of being parents to a bunch of big kids! He will though, always be "The Baby".

Recovery

Here I am again, in post op recovery. I cannot tell you how many people, nurses included, have asked how in the world I got this injury. Typically it is an "old person" injury. Just to clear the air, I ended up with a stress fracture on my hip at age 23. All I know is that I was loading a moving truck with friends because I was moving home to Tracy from Los Angeles the next day. That evening I had a painful limp. After discussing it with my ready to party friends, we decided it would be best to drink it off and continue on with the farewell Jenny escapade.

The pain was intermittent so I ignored it for the next 8 years. I would randomly be in horrible sharp pain in my groin area, causing me to limp. After a while it would stop, so I never worried about it.

After having three kids, and the extra weight that accompanied that, the pain began to occur more frequently. Once I found out it was actually a stress free acture, I declined a bone grafting surgery. My thoughts were that A. That sounded really intense. B. I had a newborn baby. C. Even though the pain was happening more often, it still wasn't on a daily basis. I declined surgery and went on with my life and my hip fracture. Nber receiving or investigating any further information and dangers of my injury.

Within the next two years I started running. My beautiful red headed Pitbull, Dolly and I ran together. We were partners. It was a new form of release for me. All my thoughts could rush through my mind but for some reason, while running, they didn't burden me. They weren't heavy objects perched on my shoulders or chest. They were light and fleeting and they flowed through me and danced around the rolling hills that was my scenery. I could easily abandon any thought at any time just by focusing on my breathing and the way my body was in a magical rhythm of respiratory, muscular and skeletal function. Never had I been able to calm my thoughts and worries so well without there being a glass of wine, a nap, or meditative state involved. It was great. It was free, it was healthy, and it was all mine.

I wasn't a hardcore runner. Dolly and I probably jogged about  a mile and half to two miles a few days a week. I wasn't in it for distance or making great time. I did shoot to improve my time with each run, but as long as I was enjoying it and it was doing something for me, I was satisfied. 

Before my first surgery in July 2013, I had to stop running. The pain became too much to tolerate, even on the treadmill. 

When I think about my first surgery, I still feel angry and cheated, a bit defeated even. I've come a long way in how I feel but I still have some accepting and moving on to do. 

I can say that it was hard. It was so hard! I was a mess leading up to it, not knowing what to expect, not having all my questions answered, knowing my husband would be off to work and I would be home alone. I wasn't even sure how much help I needed, or what I needed help with, or if I would need help at all! How long would I need to arrange a ride for my kids to get to and from school? Could I handle my busy 2 year old on my own during the day? Could I put aside my stubbornness and call on my beautiful friends for help and support? I was an anxious mess until the moment I went under in the operating room.

I didn't know that I would wake up with an 11 inch incision down my thigh and be in the most intense pain of my life, even after numerous doses of various pain medications. It took hours to manage the pain and it was difficult to keep that management steady. The hospital stay was somewhat of a pained blur. I was in no shape for visitors. Only my husband came. 

The universe gifted me an abundance of love and help from many friends and family. I started to stress after a while though. I felt guilty and uncomfortable with how long I needed to ask for help. Especially with rides to school. I know how challenging it can be to get your own kids dressed and out the door in time, then add to the task leaving earlier to go out of the way to grab my kids too? My big-hearted friend, Angela Bodas was my school transportation angel for almost 8 weeks. I tried driving at 6 weeks but it was still too painful. This was a big learning lesson on asking for the help I needed and accepting it. I had a friend come and clean, a friend who drove me to get lab work and take my kids for a while, a friend who came and made me a nice breakfast. It's amazing what a nice little breakfast will do for your spirit. I couldn't have done it without them all and their helpful hearts.

I was on crutches for about 3 months and limped around for the next year until my next surgery. The whole thing was a fail. My fracture was worse than before and the barbaric hardware drilled into my bone was almost a constant irritant. 

I can say that this second surgery is already a better experience. I had the utmost confidence in my surgeon, I went in knowing what to expect, and having all my questions answered. All of the above were forms of comfort. I also knew that my husband would have time off of work. That means for at least the first month he could take our kids to school, run errands, and be with me at home. 

There was a calmness this time. I had the normal amount of nervousness and fear that most would have before a major surgery, but I knew things would work out. I was completely calm in the operating room before going under. 

Waking up in recovery was like night and day in comparison to last year. My pain was managed and I found myself conversating with the recovery nurse about short haircuts and how cute hers was. I was happy and talkative. There was a light magical feeling to it all. Last time was nothing but tears of pain.

I was put in a newer observation area for my first nights stay rather than my own room on the ortho floor. 

This was quiet and relaxing. There were only three patients and two wonderful nurses.  The next afternoon I was moved to my own room on the ortho floor. Although it was nice to have walls instead of curtains, have a phone and a tv (which I didn't even use), it was loud and chaotic. It took longer to get nurses help due to how many patients were in need and it was noisy. However, the stay as a whole was great. You are not aloud to get out of bed until a physical therapist comes to assist you. This didn't happen until my second day. I was very mobile but it was exhausting. I took advantage of all the quiet time there. I didn't end up touching my knitting or my book. I did do some writing. 

I actually remember coming home this time. Louie got me all set up, my mom had stayed at my home to help with the kids and the house while I was away.  It was quiet and relaxing. Mom made tacos and I ate up all my kids attention. We had missed each other sentimentally the past few days.

My wonderful friends, once again flew around with capes on their backs. Planning meals, offering rides, checking in with thoughtful texts, play dates, we have 2 weeks of meals being delivered, and even offers to help Louie take the little guy to preschool so that he can just worry about the older two, plus help getting to football when we have to be in two places at once.  We couldn't be more grateful. I feel loved and cared for. I feel honored to have such giving people in our lives. 

I haven't done a whole lot of visiting and I apologize to those of you I haven't gotten  back to. As great as I feel compared to last time, I tire easily. I'm using a walker with no weight bearing allowed, it's a lot of work. The medicine, pain, and healing is just plain exhausting. I've been babying  this recovery so that it can turn out right this time. I haven't even left the house and our plan is that I won't until I go to my post op on Friday. Last time I tried so hard to be places and do things but it was too much.

Already there is no bruising, no infection, and minimal swelling.

I have to share that my husband, Louis, has been amazing. He is doing the school drop offs and pick ups, he is preparing breakfast and lunch for him and I, he is keeping up the house, he is getting the kids up and ready for school every morning and out the door promptly at 7:30am. He makes sure homework is done, he is doing laundry, he is keeping my gigantic water jug filled with fresh water all day, he is making sure I have everything I need, he is giving me shit when he thinks I'm putting weight on my right foot, he is not letting me get away with trying to do too much. He is here and he is attentive. He also will randomly surprise me with a burrito (I would never marry a man who would not do this).

So recovery this time is better. It feels quiet and calm. It feels patient and it right. It actually feels healing. Last time it was uncertainty and pain and worry. 

So thank you friends, for making this recovery feel simplistic and for shining light on the darkness of the last one. 

You are all little angels in my book and I love you dearly.