My journey

As a new blog friend of mine, would say, "God is never late but He's never early either, He is on time!" I finally have a mode of transportation, one in which all of us can ride including a couple more. After being without a vehicle of my own for 8 months and being 5 miles from town I've learned quite a few things. 1. No vehicle is too ugly to drive. 2. Never refuse a ride to the store or an offer of them stopping at the store for you. 3. That I can just google some recipes with the ingredients in my cabinet. 4. Children don't mind eating pizza and mac-n-cheese everyday, morning, noon, and night ;) 5. Just think of all the people that are driving you around as your own personal chauffeur you can't afford. 6. Foam, glue, and craft sticks can occupy children for weeks. Just be ready to clean the mess. 7. No one will die from missing a ball game or storyhour - have your own at home. 8. And finally, that I have been blessed with the best family and friends to help me along the way. So, with this new van comes many fears. A lot of haunting images and crazy thoughts. I have only briefly mentioned my accident and not gone into detail due to the mental anguish of it. I have actually avoided writing about this, but here it goes, stay with me now. It was November 23, 2005 a beautiful day I might add. The day before Thanksgiving and the boys and I (8 months pregnant) were just returning from the Super Wal-mart with Thanksgiving food and Christmas gifts. My youngest was sleeping and the oldest reading in the back seat of my Nissan Sentra. The highways here follow alongside the bayou and there is a lot of open road. There are always accidents along both sides of the bayou and yet still lots of drivers do not heed the warnings. I put my blinker on to turn left onto my street and my son yelled, "Mom Look!" In mid turn, I glanced to my left only to be smacked in the face with my door by the grill of an eighteen-wheeler. He came out of no where. I felt my head being crushed into the back of my seat and then as though by some miracle I was able to pull my head loose. My car shifted and skidded along the side of the truck. At this time, I let go of the wheel, my car got caught on his load and began to crumple underneath the truck. I immediately rolled the windows down, unbuckled, and jumped to the back. I explained to my oldest that if we hit the water he would have to hold his breath and hold my hand to swim. I unbuckled my youngest and held on to them both. Angels were with us this day - my car stopped 10 feet from the bank. I finally took a breath and hugged my children thanking God for their lives and mine. Three men and more ran from all over to check on us. Asking us who was driving, due to me being in the back seat. I asked what I had done wrong. One man responded with, "You didn't do anything mam, you couldn't have stopped that. He was passing us all up (four vehicles) in a curve, in a no passing zone, while you were turning and drug you 150 feet. The man from the truck, probably in shock, never came out of his truck, but was not injured. My youngest had a small cut on his head from the glass and my oldest had a brush burn from the seatbelt. Little did I know of my injuries, my adrenaline prevented me from knowing about the baseball growing out of my head, my Joan River's lips and busted bleeding nose. I thought about this image often for months. And how bad I felt that I looked like that trying to talk to my children. It's no wonder I didn't scare them, yet my oldest son just responded with, "Mom you looked like a brave Mom, nothing scary." My husband was offshore at the time, so a call was made to him that I was being rushed to the hospital. I was going into labor. When I got to the hospital, a few things went wrong but nothing as major as what just happened. They were able to stop my labor and that's all that mattered to me. I was in the hospital for Thanksgiving, but released myself later that day. My husband on the way to see me in the hospital got into an accident also, but luckily was okay and did not have to visit the hospital. My ordeal has taught me that your loved ones can be taken from you in the blink of an eye, so don't take them for granted. That my time with them on earth is lived better by moments, not by minutes or hours. And that there is still strength left in me to take on the next challenge. I still have images that flash in my head once in awhile, but I try to comfort myself with knowing that God is with me every step of the way. Every day is a struggle to get on the road, but I know I have to so I press on. Funny, what lessons from life you get along the way. If anything, anyone that knows me can tell you though sometimes it takes getting hit by a Mactruck for Michelle to get it.

Mushy But Needed

Anyone who knows me, knows we've had a pretty rough year since August '05. Yet, my head still remains above water. I don't believe in pedaling through the storm without getting a little wet. I realize that we all can't have it all our way all the time. But sometimes when you've hit rock bottom and you don't seem to be going up, it gets tough to keep up the positivity. Three very important people to me (two family members and one a very best friend of mine) are going through some really hard times and don't seem to have that upbeat attitude they once did. Almost as though they are losing faith. I once turned to them for enlightenment, grounding, and encouragement through my trials and tribulations, but now I see that I must step up to the plate and give them a dose of their own medicine. To My Three Very Important People What I have learned from you: That we can wish our whole lives that our life will follow the paths we dream or pray for, yet sometimes along the way we find that what we dreamed and prayed for may not have been what was best for us. There are lessons in everything. That if you bottle up what is keeping you down, you will never see what the true human spirit in others is like to help you get through it. Those are the blessings worth receiving. That it just takes one friend to "go to jail" for you, to really understand her true love for you and what she would sacrifice. (just a note to readers, don't take that literally) That a pray unanswered may be your answer. He knows what's best. That just when you feel like giving up, I'll be there to helpvpick up the pieces. In my own story, in the past year, we've had a major hurricane, a job loss, a home loss, a car accident resulting in a car loss, and my grandmother passing away. Yet even in my darkest day, full of anxiety on the road, bill stressed, and grief stricken. These three and others guided me through. I don't believe that it is just God that gets us through, I believe he sends Angels to help Him with His work. My family and friends have definitely been mine.

Missing Him is an Understatement

As I sit here, quite late or early, however you may want to look at it, I cry. I miss him dearly. What I miss most: Our long talks, the ones about nothing at all and the more serious ones that included what are we teaching our children. His singing, every word of it. Whether the day was good or bad there was always time to sing. His laundry on the floor, letting me know he worked hard. His snoring that kept me awake at night. His inappropriate comments in department stores that made me laugh. His complaints of me staying up too late working and that I needed my rest. His playful bantor. His whimiscal way of seeing the silver lining. His wrestling move performances with the boys. His warm touch and loving comments on my "Mother Dearest" looking days. I miss his toilet seat up, trash left out, clothes not hung, overeating self. But I will not say I miss his farting, because no I do not miss that - I repeat I do not miss that!!!

The Man of the Ouch

Just before leaving my husband had the talk with our seven year old about being the "Man of the House" with our three year old listening intently as well. Their eyes inquisitive and brows twitching they soaked up every word. As he explained that he would be gone for a long time you could see the gears turning with questions ready to fly. "Well, how long is a long time?" "So, will you be back for my birthday?" "Will you be able to watch TV?" "Do they have phones there?" Answers to these questions were just not enough for these heartbroken boys. Their daddy was leaving and no matter what spin you tried to put on it - the outlook still didn't seem good enough to them. But nonetheless, Daddy was determined to leave with no tears. Quite an impossible feat when there is an emotionally stressed mother involved. So, the day came that Daddy had to leave and Mommy was, like predicted, very emotional. Our seven year old quietly walks over and puts his arm around me stating, "It's okay Mom, I'm the Man of the House and I'll take care of you while Daddy is gone." Without missing a beat, our three year old pipes in, "I da Man of the "Ouch" too Mom, I'll take care of your bo-bo."

Back to the Real World

Our vacation is over and it is time to come back to reality. We had an awesome time and the kids thought it was the best camp ever. I actually made t-shirts to go along with our camp theme. Seth(ocrates) wanted to make pants to match and when I said I didn't think I could do that he responded, "Of course you can Mom, Chicken Little did it. Just go get some paper and fold it. Play it real slow and copy what he is doing." You have to see Chicken Little to know what he's talking about. Anyhow, the trip was great, we made lots of crafts and I was able to scrap 10 pages. I cooked everyday (what a miracle, as my husband would say) and I actually tried to cook a shrimp and okra gumbo and no one vomited. So, I guess you can say that it came out okay. We did our own camp songs, ghost stories, and a glo-stick adventure which turned into Glo-stick Karate. We had our wonderful cousin Brit with us who was such a big help. I actually teared up when she left, leaving me to fend for myself in the land of motherhood. For those who don't know, My hubby will be leaving soon to stay and work in another state for 6 months. So, when some of these posts get a little psychotic please give me support and pray that there is some sort of medication to get me through :)

Whaddaya Lookin' At?

I'm not the perfect Mom. And no I didn't just realize this. But apparently most of the world is unaware that I will not be the perfect Mom, nor will I pretend to be just so they can get through a baseball game or practice in peace without hearing my Hunter Bunter crying for mercy. I wonder where people get balls from? No, I don't mean the ones that are thrown or kicked in a game. The ones that people have who can just come up to you like they have known you for 30 years, since you were in diapers, and just ask you, "Do you think he'll have a better day today?" Okay, maybe I'm just a being a tad bit of a witch here, but please don't ask me to start predicting the future of my child. (I can't even predict the future of my checkbook sometimes) If I knew he was going to have a bad day do you think I would have brought him to the baseball field with two other children by myself right at supper time to be stared down by what seems to be a million "perfect Moms" and have them whisper, "Oh, he's always like that." "You should have seen what he did the last time. This is pretty good in comparison." But, instead of saying what I want to say, I say instead, "I guess we'll see." And when he throws his glove or slaps me in the stomach or stubbornly says, "I don't wanna play no more," I gently pick him up and carry him off to my less than perfect world. I believe my son is misjudged and misunderstood, which I'm guilty of at times, but all the same he captures the attention of hundreds of people (hey someday that might pay off with a big check) but alas as I'm dragging him off the field or dodging the bat I don't question whether something is wrong with him, I focus on what's right. Sometimes, his behavior gets the best of me, but if I ever saw a parent involved in a similar situation I wouldn't ask, "Do you think something is wrong with him?" Of course, something is wrong with him what kind of stupid question is that. He's crying, that usually tells you something is wrong. Instead, I would mind my own business and say a little prayer for her. Okay, now that I got that out I feel better.

Turning Into Your Mother at Age 3

My sister shared this story with me today, I thought this was hilarious and it had me in tears. Kyla (3 years old): "Mom can I have some water?" (before going to bed) My sister: "No, Kyla you'll wet the bed." Kyla: "Please Mom, I won't Pee-pee." (insisting for what seemed to be hours) My sister: "ALRIGHT!!!" (finally giving up in desperation for sleep and not waking her other child - hands her the water). Kyla: "Now was that so hard Mommy?"