If I didn't have rabies before, I certainly do now

Baby rabies, that is.

While T's sister was on a multi-state journey today, the Timmy and I watched our nephew L for her. At four and a half, to call him active and hyper would be an understatement. That boy got some energy. We all had a fun (and busy) day that ended with us helping us with his bedtime routine. That's where the things happened that made me fall in love with my husband even more and made my case of wanting a child explode even more.

Part of the routine includes reading a story (or two) and bedtime prayers. L wanted his Uncle Tim to read the stories. While I was watching, I saw the man that he could (and he will!) become when we have kids. It was such a sweet and precious sight: T and L, cuddled up on the bed reading a bedtime story.

But prayer time was really what made my heart explode. L said his own sweet little prayer and asked God and Jesus to help protect a bunch of people individually, including us, his mommy and, sweetest of all, his new stepfather and stepsister. I swear I'm too emotional. That brought tears to my eyes.

His ending, though, was an awesome (and totally needed) prayer ending: "Lord, help us all."

:explode:

No dinosaurs were harmed... this time

 I've known Megan (aka Megin) since high school and I am so glad I did meet her. We have been in each other's lives during so, so, SO many things, both good and bad. It shouldn't have been such a surprise that she won my quiz. Her prize was a chance to write the very first guest blog spot on my blog. It is such an honor, I'm sure. Anyhoo, enough of my rambling on with the post!

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About 2.5 years ago, I broke my left foot in a freak-accident! Well, not really, I tripped over my own two feet and ended up with a compound fracture. The result of my skills was “emergency” surgery and 1.5 years of recovery time (joy). During this time, my family and I found new, dark sides to my personality. Apparently, I cannot hold a high very well, and I quickly become delusional.

The first night home from surgery, I was on my first dose of (very strong) Percocet. All was quiet, and the family was asleep. However, a faint noise awoke me from my slumber...and *ting *ting *ting. I could not figure out the source of the noise, and I had soon convinced myself that someone was in the house. Soon, I received a text message (signaled by my phone's buzz), and I was certain that something professional was “going down.” Yes, dear readers, I was certain that terrorists had invaded the house, and they wanted me to check my text message, because the light from my phone would signal my exact location. Furthermore, they were playing my little sister's resonator bars to taunt me...and also to let me know that they had already obtained her.

Now, to rationalize this entire conspiracy, I relied on the fact that my dad is an air traffic controller. You see, my dad worked on 9/11, and I was certain that his identity had been compromised...and now the terrorists were going to “get us” to persuade him to give them secure information.

I was literally sweating, and my heart was pounding...which made me tired...which helped me (eventually) fall back to sleep. In the morning, I discovered (now sober) that the source of the “ting-ing” was a small wind-chime that my sister had hung on my fan. No terrorists, no evil plot, and even the text turned out to be spam.... we were lucky to survive.

Could it possibly get worse? YES! At the time, we had a group of telemarketers calling out house constantly. (My dead grandfather once owned a time-share that they wanted to purchase.) The problem was that they would hang up the phone when they heard a female voice...and then call back in an hour. This constant barrage of phone calls inspired me to create the ultimate “Do Not Call” policy: show tune singalongs!

I saved the phone number from which the calls came, and then I called it back....over and over... until I got an answering machine or a person. Each time I successfully got through, I sang show tunes until the machine cut me off- or they hung-up the phone! Wicked, West Side Store, Seussical the Musical, Urinetown, Les Miserables, Aida, Music Man, South Pacific...you name it, and I sang it loudly (and slurred) I was too high to care, and my family thought it was downright hilarious! I think I sang 'Popular' three times to those people- and I hope they loved it. Apparently, they put me on their own “do not call” list, because the calls stopped after one day of constant show tune glory! (Perhaps I should write a musical about a person on pain-killers singing show tunes to telemarketers!)

Finally, I hit an all-time low...the pinnacle of paranoia, confusion, and plain idiocy! On one particular evening, my little sister decided to sleep with me in my bed. Don't be fooled by the adoration of the 10-year old...she found my antics to be gut-busting funny, and wanted a live show (which she got). Apparently, in the middle of the night, I woke up, sat up, and then woke her:

Littler sister: What is it?

Me: *grumble grumble* mmm...close the window...mmmm

Little sister: Sissy, it's already closed...

Me: Nooo...the shades....close...

Sarah: Oooookay.... (closes the shades on the window)

Me: (sigh of relief) good...I don't want the dinosaurs looking in at me...hrmph...

Yes, we've passed terrorists, telemarketers, and show tunes...I now believed that I was living in the movie 'Jurassic Park.' I thought the T-Rex was outside of the window, and I figured he wouldn't see me if the blinds were shut. You know...stupid dinosaurs...

While there were plenty of other “incidents” during my first few weeks of recovery, those remain the closest to my heart. I suppose that if I begin speaking of huge conspiracies or governmental plots, Beth will need to demand a drug test for me. Hopefully this goody-basket of humor brightens your day, and I hope that Beth will remain friends with her eccentric friend that cannot manage herself when she is high! Thank goodness THAT part of my recovery was short-lived!

* No dinosaurs were harmed in the making of this guest post*   

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I still demand a drug test, Meg! You seriously think THIS would keep me from being your friend? Please. If anything, it makes me want to be your friend even more!

Loyal readers, Megin does not have a blog and I think she has too many hilarious stories to share. Maybe if we all join together we could convince her. Let her know how much you enjoyed this story in the comments section!

Baggage update (via iPhone)

We got our bags! Yes! Only problem was that the Timmy's suitcase was soaked along with everything in it. Mine was perfect and dry and is in my possession. :)

Oh.... klahoma.

Plane from Charlotte  to Dallas delayed two hours due to maintenance. At gate, we had to check bags at last minute. Once on the plane, pilot tells us that a light was on that shouldn't be on and they needed to fix. Flight's delay caused us to miss our connecting flight. We were put on standby for the last flight out to okc. If we didn't make that flight, we wouldn't be able to leave Dallas until 24 hours later. 

We made the standby flight! But there were horrible thunderstorms. Those storms caused a normally 45 minute flight to be 2 hours with bad turbulence.

Made it to OKC. Finally. But our suitcases didn't. Thank God that I had my insulin, pump supplies and other various diabetic supplies with me and my blood sugar cooperated. Hopefully, our bags will get here today.

We were able to get our rental car last night, but it ended up being a truck way too huge for us, so we brought it to exchange for a smaller car this morning. Chaos again.

All of this has happened within less than 24 hours of attempting to leave Charlotte, but we've made it safely. We have a car and a hotel room. Now all we are waiting on is our luggage.

We finally made it to ok around 1am their time. No luggage yet. We just beat it here... hopefully. It should be delivered to the hotel tomorrow. Until then, we have the clothes on our back. And, of course, my heavy carry on with insulin pump supplies, insulin and test strips.

We do have a hotel room and rental car. The economy car we reserved turns out to be a huge truck. Timmy's not happy about that and he's working on switching it with a smaller vehicle.

This trip is certainly not boring thus far!

Plane issues caused a missed flight and a lot of chaos. But we got seats on the last plane out of Dallas. Thank you, God!

I can fly higher than an eagle....

As you are reading this, we are (hopefully) in the air on our way out west to Oklahoma. The trip and visit that we have been looking forward to and planning for months is finally here! I am super stoked. You guys will more than likely be getting little quick posts/updates this week, plus a guest post on Wednesday!

Yeah, I am

Daddy's Little Girl

So today is father's day. Happy father's day to all of the fathers out there!

I, for one, never really liked father's day, especially since I was never close to my father. I am close with my stepfather, but, you know, it's just not the same. I couldn't ever compare features and such with my stepfather nor could I ever call myself 'Daddy's Little Girl'. I came to a point where songs, cards, plaques, etc saying that phrase made me feel ill. They made me feel slighted. I wanted a father who openly cared about me and was active in my life. I wanted a father who'd call 'just because'. I wanted a father who would watch me sleep and think to himself "that's my daughter" with all of the pride in the world. But that's not the father I was given.

That's what I thought... until recently. Guess what? I DO have that kind of Father. He is everyone's Father. He loves me so much that He sent is only Son to die for me (and you!) on the cross. That is love, you guys. True love. An awesome love from an awesome God.

So now I know I AM Daddy's Little Girl. I know I do have a Father who knows the features from Him that I have within myself. I know that, at night (and all day), I do have a Father who looks at me and says "That is MY daughter".

And, because of that love, I am overjoyed this father's day to honor my Father.

Happy father's day!