Easter 2016

As I continue to grow older, the importance behind the greatest day on Earth becomes such a sincere one. I literally can remember just how the chills run up my arms as the story is told. How the tears feel my eyes and just how much I want to raise my hands in worship as we sing, "O' Glourious Day."

I posted yesterday on Facebook that, "Ifs not about the bunny, it's all about the lamb" as a very important reminder to myself. I often get so very caught up in my large bunny feet trail that leads to their baskets, or even the jelly bean poop that's left behind that I forget the purpose - my purpose. I feel like this in life a lot of times but then my four year graciously brings me back to reality when he asks for me to tell him {again} why Jesus died on the cross for our sins. 

While our baskets were small and simple this year, our hearts were full. Our family and gatherings was absolutely wonderful. To be able to be under two different roofs with my children along side aunts, grandparents, cousin and even great grandparents is such a blessings. We never realize sometimes when we grow up having small families, just how much a large family can be a blessing. 

I may overly love playing the roles of different characters, it is so so very important that I bring the true meaning of each holiday to the eye of my children. Since our months of Charli believing in these fictional attributes that come along with materialized holidays, I hope as parent that I remember that...  My greatest contribution to the kingdom may not be something I do, but someone I raise. 

{Hopeful} Sleep Apnea Cure

Adenoids, tonsils, gallbladders, appendix... Four items I'm really unsure why God ever put into our bodies. No, I'm not questioning his format or abilities. I'm just sitting here in bed slightly in an overcast of Mombie mode. Where I'm not sure if I'm tired, or dying. But I lay here thinking that we are full of different items like wisdom teeth that really have no wonderful use within bodies. 

Maybe they're all within to test us. Test our courage, strength and even finances. Because I'm fairly certain I now owe my right kidney to the billings departments that will soon be sending their greetings. 

But maybe, hopefully it is all worth it. We hope that the years of no sleep, the gasping for air, snoring like a big ole' jake break that's been on for far too long will soon come to an end.

Bryar had his tonsils and adenoids removed on Thursday, March 10 due to sleep apnea. He was brave and courageous, while we were a tad overly nervous. We've never had a child under anesthesia, and even through the blessing it can truly make you nervous. If I recall correctly Curtis even compared Bryar to Gunner under anesthesics, just incase there was a cardiac event. It's funny how our brains think of everything even though we have no more of a medical background than EMT. 

We were surrounded by family and pastors through the morning. Which helped settle nerves greatly. The surgery didn't last long at all and in a short time they were calling me to come back. As I entered the PACU doors, I could hear my boy crying and coughing. 

Once again, my Husband refered to me as a cow looking for her bawling calf. I found him at last. He was clueless coming back to reality all while feeling a lump within his throat. After a few minutes of letting things settle down, he quickly enjoyed a banana popsicle. Around twenty minutes later he was moved into another unit where we met up with family. All was well until he eventually realized he had an IV within his arm. The kid is not one for blood, needles or bandaids. So we coached him into drinking, peeing a lot and then it was able to be removed. He had a sweet nurse who even made slushies from popsicles to keep the fluids going. 

By the time we were able to leave and head home, Bryar was already asking for chips and cookies. Uh oh. It almost never occurred to me what kind of struggle it would be for him to not eat crunchy he's items for a while. He settled for more slushies and movies while relaxing. 

He tricked us by sleeping the entire first night all the way through. I thought it was a miracle until night two, three and four set in. Which has been the same ole' struggle, in which we hope gets better. His throat gets stiff and sore while laying down, then he wakes confused. But even through the lack of sleep and low grade temperatures he has overall felt okay.  He's played, ate and drank as decently as we could ask. 

He went to school today since I am there in his classroom with him. I could tell through his eyes that he didn't feel, "so well" but be stuck it out like a champ. At the end of the day I treated both kids to ice cream since it was such a beautiful day. 

All was fun until I had to snatch the cone away from him because I noticed the crunchy cone. 

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Update 3/18

I posted the original post on a Tuesday night. After hitting submit I went to sleep, like I typically do after releasing all of my thoughts into this small screen. Around 3 a.m. while trying to console a very pouty Bryar, I turned on his closet light to find him covered in blood. I instantly rushed him to the bathroom to get a better look and start cleaning him up. While in there I noticed that his nose was still slightly bleeding. Which of course sent me into panic mode of yelling for Curtis to get the hospital papers. 

Bryar was shaking and was just so tired but we made him stay awake while we called his ENT. I felt incredibly terrible for waking him in the middle of the night but our instructions stated to call with any sign of blood loss coming from the nose. Dr. Morris reassured us that all was okay unless we could see bleeding in his mouth. I ended up letting him go and trying I settle Bryar back to sleep, until we noticed blood in his mouth. 

Of course we instantly called him back and headed to the ER. After seeing the triage nurse she stated that it was lightly bleeding. So we waited an hour and a half. I decided that I could no longer take the germs and was fairly certain the hacking was making my husband blood pressure race upwards as well. So, I asked he nurse to check his bleeding again. At that time is was no longer actively bleeding and we made the decision to head home. 

Curtis stayed home with him while I went to work. The ENT called to check on him several times before we went in to see him that afternoon. Thankfully, he said that everything looked great and his bleeding didn't make sense, and he couldn't tell what it was. We were so thankful for this as we've been trying to be super careful. 

It's been over a week since surgery and his scabs are still intact. He seems to be getting better each day and his fever seemed to have broke on that long Tuesday night. We just drove home from my parents house and I could've cried to still hear him snoring. So I will head to bed now, and pray that this is still from inflammation and his apnea is cured. 

Not Your News To Share.

"I pray that your husband is okay. I heard there was a collision involving a deputy after a high speed chase."

Heart sinking, gut wrenching moment as I read several text messages that appeared on my phone. I was taking photographs of our precious preschooler's building ramps to see which items would roll down, and which would not. I had to stop. Excuse myself and just hear my husbands voice. It wasn't the first time and by the looks of it, I have many more years to go from it being the last prayerful text message that I recieve. While my mind scattered I rushed to the door, he quickly answered the callto say, "I'm okay. But we're all out here. I love you." 

A relief, a deflate of the air I was clinching onto tightly in my lungs. Because the what ifs, can be more scary than you could ever imagine sometimes. 

That's all I needed. 

After my thoughts were gathered and my mind came to ease, I thought how kind it was for so many people to let me know that they were praying for my Husband. It's something that I wish I could have more often for so many men and women that walk the blue line. It's honestly just SO nice to know people love and care about our family. 

But...

It immediately took my mind back to 2013. The time that I found out my Husband was involved in a very serious altercation by social media. He had called me and long, behold, I missed it. Which happens way more often than I would ever like to m admit. So I started innocently scrolling through Twitter, because at the time Twitter was a huge deal for, "Mom bloggers" to communicate together on. But then I boldly read, "deputy involved in fight on I-65. Caller advises he is by himself and it looks serious."

Within that moment, my outlook on Joe Imel retweeting, sharing, over picture taking posts changed. I was mad. But I was even more scared. I wanted to know more, but most of all I wanted to know he was okay. 

Thankfully, it was no more than a few moments before we were able to talk. 

But could you imagine? Or have you ever thought how it would feel to find out hard devastating news in such a way? To see your family members car in photo, or to see the made up rumors that are so often swiftly posted. It's difficult being a police wife, for more reasons than just this. But this is one that no family, person, or even colleague should ever have to worry with. 

 As a former 911 telecommunications operator. I come from a long line of nosey women who just love to be in the know of every detail that comes to light. But years ago, I met and fell in love with a police officer. He works hard and each day he walks out of the house we pray that he returns home to us. It's actually a family prayer for the children that "Daddy and Gunner are safe at work." But as we all know officers are presently anything but safe in the streets of America. While we are thankful to not be a community shaken by the turmoil of LEO attacks, we are shaken by the others in our country. 

We are Mothers, Wives and best friends to our Husbands. We worry about them until they walk in each day - sometimes even longer than that. While I no longer work within telecommunications, it is nice to see what is going on within our community. But, there is an incredible difference between knowing our community and seeing it first hand. Twitter isn't trained. It doesn't break the news in a lightly manner. It doesn't even touch my scared or possibly grieving heart to see it in my eyes before I even know what's going on. 

There's a true {sometimes sensible} difference between social media and an actual media outlet. 

My hope is to somehow find our way back to that aspect. One that families don't have to be worried with seeing their loved ones car mangled on the side of the road in, or even the description of their car. So, let's take a stand. Put the phones down. Bow your heads, say grace and carry on. 

When it's not your news, don't share it. 

You never know the impact you could be leaving on someone's heart as their lives forever change.