Not the day I expected

21 days ago, I posted this picture. This is Sheryl Hatton. Olivia's teacher.

I was getting into the car after aerobics this morning when I checked the messages on my phone. There was one from Raine's mom telling me to call her about some things going on at school.

I called back immediately. Raine's mom said, "Well, I don't really know how else to say this. Mrs. Hatton died this morning."

I had to pull the car over. Surely I must have heard wrong. She had been out since Thursday. Olivia said she had a sore elbow. (I guess that's why you shouldn't get your info from a 4 yr. old.) Apparently she had caught something that had been going around the faculty and just couldn't shake it. She was admitted into the hospital yesterday and passed away early this morning before school even started.

I called Steve immediately to tell him. As it turns out, he found out when he dropped O off at school. He ended up staying for about 45 minutes. Several parents were there and a few grief counselors. In the end, most of the kids in O's class were doing pretty well. The older kids at the school who had her before were the ones who were having a hard time. At O's school a child stays in the same class with the same teachers for 3 years.

Surprisingly, I'm the one who's been struggling. I've been an emotional wreck today. I keep thinking about how much Olivia loved her. Last year when O had some fear issues, Mrs. Hatton took her under her wing (maybe too much so.) She would take O on *special errands* and let her be the *helper.* Just last week Mrs. Hatton said to Olivia, "Hey, Olivia, do you want to stay all day for Kindergarten?" Then she winked at me and said, "Boy is she ready for it!" What a turn of events from last year.

Last week, 2 days before she was out because of her cold, she led a really fun activity. She read the kids The Gingerbread Man. Then they went to the cooking room and baked gingerbread. When they opened the oven door, the gingerbread man was missing. They went on a hunt around the school for him. They finally found him in the Principal's office in a time out. He was *found running in the hall.* The principal explained a lesson on not running in the hall. They also made finger puppets that went along with the story. Olivia talked about that all the way until bed time. It has been her favorite day at school by far.

It's so sad for me because I know how much Mrs. Hatton "got" Olivia. And appreciated her. And liked her. Similar to my mom. Now, they are both gone. (here come tears.) So, although it appears O is fine, I am not. Who knew this would rip the band aid off of my wound? Just when I thought I was healing up so nicely.

Life. sigh

Perfection

It was THE PERFECT weekend away.

We hit the road with our four other friends late Friday morning and arrived in Gatlinburg, TN early evening. The car ride was fun. Lunch on the road, glorious. No crayons. No trips to the potty (to wipe little buns). No spills. No tears. Just pure adult conversation, sans interruption.

Glory.

We arrived and unpacked at our UH-MAZING cabin (shame on me for even calling it such a name.) Because this cabin was three stories, each with a wrap around porch. Gorgeous. And ridiculously affordable since we were there on a non-peak weekend. What a treat.

We headed into town for Steve's official birthday dinner. He has a *favorite* place in Gatlinburg (I think he's been to Gatlinburg four times in his life but somehow has a *favorite* place?!) The Peddler. It was a nice steakhouse. Weird, but nice.

The weekend was filled with shopping, eating, football, games, reading, relaxing and even...

a short hike. Amy is 8 months pregnant and Sally, Steve and I wore flip flops. So you can use the work hike loosely if you like.

We did.

But it seemed shameful to not at least get out of the car and take a picture with a tree behind us. I mean, if you're from our part of Ohio, you don't get to walk up something steeper than a speed bump too often. I would not recommend, however, walking too far up the Smoky Mountains in Croc flip flops, though. I had some sore ankles the next morning.

I had to include a few photos of our cabin.

Just to prove that this cabin was nicer than my home.

It was gorgeous.

With amazing views.

From every window. This one happened to be from the door frame of our bedroom on the third floor. In front of that window was another small living room. Wish I'd had time to use it.

Yes, I may be relocating soon.

But then I'd have to buy some better shoes.

Guess I'll stay put.

Check back later for a post on some of the ridiculousness that I found in Gatlinburg.

There was a plenty.

Enough to require a second post.

Ain't y'all lucky? (I'm practicing in case I do get some new shoes and re-locate.)

on top of a mountain

In about t minus 2 hours, I'm packing myself into our mini-van with Steve, four friends and an obscene amount of food for two days and we are headed off to the mountains.

I'll be back Monday with pictures.

In the meantime, go check out this hilarious video.

happy weekend

some days are a 2 post day

Last night Steve hung the last picture. Ahh, it feels good to have our downstairs back after a few weeks of craziness.

I have to say, I'm so pleased with how it turned out. The whole room (which is a combo dining/living room) was a foam green since we moved in. A fine color. But after seven years, we needed a change.

Its hard to tell in the pictures but we went with a gray. In some lighting it looks gray, in some it looks blue. Which is actually perfect because I walked around with both blue and gray paint swatches FOR WEEKS because I couldn't decide which way I wanted to go. This is the perfect marriage of the two colors. I couldn't be happier.

The previous owners had also painted the ceiling in the dining room green (I'm not sure why) and included a green paint border on the ceiling in the living room (and I'm really not sure why on that one.)

Which meant poor Steve had to prime and paint both ceilings. Making the project even longer.

But all in all, it was worth every long night of work. The room looks bigger, brighter and more modern.

I called Steve this morning and told him one more time how much I LOVE sitting in our *new* living room.

I also had him put together a new collage of photos in a spot that a different picture had been. I love it.

I tried to get rid of clutter as well. And some big toys were moved to the play room upstairs.

Now the only thing to do, some day, when we get rich, is buy a new (preferably black) dining room table. Oh, and another sofa. One that does not require a slip cover.

But until we get rich, a fresh coat of paint will carry me a long way!

If I believed in Jinxes

So I had to go and do it. The other day I wrote about how nothing noteworthy had gone on around here. Which must have been an open invitation to the universe to *bring it on.* Because later that day, I got a phone call from my dad assuring me "everything is fine" but he incurred $4,200 worth of damage to his car when a deer hit him. Yep. He didn't even hit the deer, the deer hit him. There's my little old dad, minding his own business when he heard an explosion and the next thing he knew all the glass on his driver side window/the front windshield blew plus a whole bunch of body (to the car) damage occurred as the deer bounced off into the distance. He claims, "Another six inches, I would have had a deer in my lap." Grrrreeeaaat. I guess the Lord knew I could not handle losing both parents in less than 4 months. Thank you, God.

Then, Tuesday morning I was getting Olivia up for school. We were snuggling for a few minutes before she got dressed. Steve showered and was getting ready when I heard a muffled, "mmmshp." After a few seconds of contemplation I thought I'd better check it out. There I found Steve white as a ghost and pouring sweat. He informed me he thought he was about to lose consciousness and that it felt like something *ruptured* in his abdomen. (We would later argue if that statement was actually ever uttered from his lips. I'm here to say YES! YES it was.) I mean, why would I make that up? It's not like I like to embellish a story for affect or anything. Sheesh.

I asked him if I should call 9-1-1. To my surprise he said yes. I tried really hard to not go into panic mode but by then all three kids were up and clamoring for stuff. I managed to keep my cool pretty well, if I do say so myself. Somehow (it *might* have been the Lord once again) I got them all corralled onto our bed and had them wait there until the ambulance arrived.

By the time the paramedics got there, Steve was looking better. He even managed to make it down the stairs and be dressed for their arrival. In the meantime, Turner was in hog heaven. An ambulance with lights flashing right in front of our own house. Cool.

After assessing Steve with a bunch of questions and not much else, we all decided he should go to the ER to get checked out but to Turner's disappointment, a ride in the ambulance would not be necessary. (Actually, the decision was made right after Steve heard, "You'd save yourself a lot of money if you found your own way there.) 'Nough said. So we loaded up the car, took Olivia to school, secured a good friend to bring her kids over and watch the boys, drop Steve off at the ER, drop kids off at home and me head back to the ER.

Where we would sit for the next 4 hours.

Thankfully, at the end of the visit, the Dr. concluded everything was fine. Why something felt like it had ruptured (or didn't depending on who is telling the story) is a mystery.

All I know is, I'm not mentioning another boring day on this here blog for a very long time!

Trying to focus

It's been a stretch of days since I posted. No real reason why. Fun things have happened. Mundane things have gone by. But nothing really stood out as blog worthy. Not even a slightly annoying situation to put a funny spin on. I watched Steve paint a lot this weekend. I helped, a little. A very little, in fact. Its mostly finished. Now its a matter of re-arranging furniture, putting switch plates back etc. (Now do you see why I've struggled to make a post from this?)

Pictures will follow soon.

Steve's big 40th birthday is on Sunday. I have arranged a getaway with two other couples to Gatlinburg, TN. We've rented a luxurious house in the mountains. I'm REALLY looking forward to this. It felt like a whole ton of pressure to provide the *just right* 40th birthday experience for Steve. You know the dilemma... do you go surprise party with 100 of his closest friends and a few long lost ones traveling from far and wide? Or do you skip the party and go expensive gift? Or maybe go the funny route? You know the "Ha! Ha! You're so old they should just bury you" kind of thing.

All seemed wrong for my husband. (And quite frankly, for me- since naturally, Steve's 40th birthday IS all about me.) As the party thrower, all of the above seemed to make me want to run away and hide. So back in July I thought long and hard about what would Steve really want? Then it dawned on me... time with his best friends, with out kids, in a nice place we don't have to do any work on. Voila, the Great Gatlinburg Escape was hatched.

I managed to get 2 of his best friends (and their wives) to buy into my plan. Then I secured Grandma and Papa as babysitter extraordinaries. I double checked with Steve on the coin we had to drop without revealing the exact plan. I secured our spot here and told Steve. He was touched and excited. You see, I'm not one to make plans two months ahead of time. I'm not one to pursue a good price on a lodge and dare I even say, haggle. So there you have it, it is love!

I guess that's why I'm just humming through my days right now. Not really living for Friday, but just getting excited.

And by the way, since your 40th IS all about me, Steve, here's a hint. My ideal 40th involves tropical islands, no kids and more than a 2 night stay. I'm just sayin'...

Jared

As you may be aware, we live in Downtown Dayton. In case you think that is glamorous, remember, its Dayton. When we moved here it was fun and exciting to live *Downtown.* I guess it still is. You also may be aware that we've toyed with the idea of fleeing to the suburbs like most normal people. But thanks to the housing market, that decision was made for us. I could go on and on about the things that I get INSANELY jealous of when I go to a friend's house in the 'burbs. You know, the spacious back yard. The trampoline roughly the size of an igloo. The cul de sac their kids ride their bike on. I could go on and on but I'll spare you.

I could also go on and on about the things I lreally like about living in the city. The diversity, both racially and economically. Our cool historic home. The fact that our street may end up on the local news crime report most nights. (Oh, I kid! mostly)

Recently, our newspaper reported that homelessness is up 200% in our city. That didn't really surprise me. Our neighborhood is about 900 ft. from an on ramp to one of the highways. And beginning about a year ago it became a hot spot for pan handlers. I'm not exactly sure why, but I have my theories. There are several homeless shelters nearby and my guess is many of the panhandlers stand on our corner by day and sleep there by night.

Sometime in the spring I decided to start buying a boatload of bars (granola, fiber, chewy, whatever I can get for real cheap) and keep them in the van. Whenever we stop at a red light and someone is there, we give them a bar. Most are appreciative. All accept. I had a similar plan when I lived in NYC. Loads of people pan handle on the subway. Because I couldn't be sure where the cash would go, I always kept some bars in my backpack. I could always tell the truly needy from the swindlers by who would graciously accept the bar and who would laugh me off the train. Its interesting how here, nobody refuses.

Its also interesting that for the past 7 or so months my kids have gotten into the act. WHENEVER we see someone on the corner (even when its a far away corner or an opposite corner that would be impossible to reach... outside of launching a Fiber One Bar at their head) they all three start yelling "Give that guy a bar, mom"!!! Depending on how long the light is or how safe I feel, we even ask for their name and let them know that we'll pray for them. As we drive away we pray for the person by name.

Today the boys and I were on our way to pick Olivia up from school. We got off the highway and stopped at a light where a guy was sitting. His sign read, "Anything helps." So I rolled down my window and told him we had a granola bar to offer. He was a young guy with a very pleasant smile. The boys (Ummm... Quinn) was yelling, "Ask his name, MOM!" The guy heard and he got a delighted smile on his face and asked me, "Did he say he wants to know my name?"

I said yes and explained that we like to give out bars to people in need and often we get their name and pray for them on our way. So I asked for his name and he told us he was Jared. I rolled down the windows and the boys yelled, "Bye, Jared!" Jared smiled and waved.

And then a semi came barrelling down the exit ramp, the light turned green and the truck honked so loud the boys started crying.

the end

Yep, I love city life!

** disclaimer** lest you think this is a toot my own horn, look at me, I'm such a good person post, its not. I just wanted to express my thoughts on one practical way we can look out for others right where we live. There are about 10,000 other ways I really suck at this, just fyi.