School parent

Being the parent of a school-aged kid is still weird for me.
I avoid the school like the plague. I am not one of those PTA mothers who loves to "get involved." I would much prefer to not face a teacher this soon after high school graduation. (Don't you dare remind me that I graduated eight years ago. Just don't torture me like that.) 

I get these notes in their backpacks...
"Please sign and return," they say. I tend to look around to figure out who should sign them, until I realize it's supposed to be me.
"Sign up for the field trip," they say.
"Your son didn't turn in his homework," they say. Well of course he didn't! You were expecting ME to keep track of it! Just eight years ago I was explaining to my own teachers that this was an impossible feat... why would it be any different so soon?

I am so not mature enough to be the mom in this scenario. (Remember how moms were old??)

It also doesn't help that people always end up asking me things like, "Oh, are you Joshua's big sister?" or "Could you tell your mom to send some lunch money with Joshua tomorrow?" (Did you know I am in charge of writing lunch money checks?? It's just weird, I tell you!)
I have to give them the polite-but-irritated smile and say, "No, I'm Joshua's mom."
They start to think up something to say as their face goes red, and I say, "It's ok, I know. I don't look old enough to be anybody's mom."
I leave out the part that I had him my senior year in high school, and just let them wonder if I was eleven years old when I popped out a baby... or if maybe I am the much-too-young mistress who married his father and is now the wicked step-mom. As a result, they tend to walk away quickly and look very busy.
In their defense, most of them are on their seventh kid, so they are way on the other end of the school parent spectrum.

Yesterday my second son graduated from pre-school. I swear I was the proudest mama there. I still feel like an absolute poser when I stand in the crowd and try to play the "mom" part, but seriously... I made this kid! And he has successfully completed one entire school year without killing anyone, killing himself, getting killed, or driving a teacher to retirement. I'm so proud!

(That award is for being the most "hugglish"... a word Asher made up for when he needs an extra lot of hugs that day!)

  Somehow I am getting old and my babies are turning into people, and there's not a dang thing I can do about it. But it's so damn cute, I can't possibly complain. Life is good, even when I forget to notice.

Well, I'm off to another awards ceremony... this time for Joshua. He's finished with the second grade... which is fine, because second grade was still young, right? In less than three months, though, he'll be in third grade... which everyone knows is seriously old. :(  I guess I'd better take a lot of pictures!

Josh reading his book to the parents (it was dedicated to me!) with his teacher.

The whole family

Comes crashing down

I'm just going to come right out and say it. The world is suffocating me lately. I feel like there's just enough air to breathe, but no room to take a deep breath.

Tornadoes, war, tsunamis, flooding, revolts, terrorists, murder in the name of justice, economic crisis across the entire planet... the parade of tragic circumstances is kind of getting to me.

Then there's personal life... job search, marriage, money, exhaustion, depression, anxiety, children, mess, laundry that never, ever ends... Honestly, I am not being nearly as appreciative of my life as I probably should be. To be perfectly honest, I am not even anxious to become appreciative of my life right now. I think I'll just sit back and whine for a while. Nothing is ever quite what I expect, and surprises have never been my strong suit.

Check this out... Oprah is no longer the "most influential woman". Apparently it's GaGa.
I simply can't think of anything that states more clearly the societal decline of our country (world?) and I am tired of worrying about the world my children are growing up in. (I know, I know, "Get used to it; That's what being a parent is."  But seriously... this chick?

I'm tired of thinking about my twenties slipping away from me into the abyss we call "the past" - you know, that thing we are supposed to learn to forget about because it "doesn't matter" anymore? (I disagree, btw.) What on earth have I done with my life? My high school friends are getting master's degrees... I am still a year away from not having to buy diapers anymore, and there's not a single thing to put on my resume that's worth bragging about. (It turns out "I can change a diaper in 2.3 seconds" isn't brag-worthy in the professional world. Weird, huh?)

I'm tired of realizing that our country has done (and is still doing) despicable things in the name of "information" and "protection". I don't feel any safer because they are doing it, and how many people (yes, people, even the ones who are not American) live in fear because of us? Why is our safety any more legitimate than theirs? And no, I'm not losing my sight of what the troops are doing for us... so please don't think this is me stomping on the flag or anything. I just learn more and more about the inner workings of our "leaders," and I don't think they deserve the title.

I'm tired of scrubbing the same damn floor every single day, sometimes twice a day, just to find a puddle of orange juice there the next morning at breakfast. I will never stop being tired of this... and it will never relent. The sticky floor battle is almost as troubling to me as the never-ending dirty clothes basket.

I'm tired of just about everything lately. Thank goodness summer is coming... Although the weather doesn't seem to know it, Asher's last day of preschool is tomorrow, and you have no idea how much I am looking forward to having a purpose in life other than to take Asher to and pick him up from school every day. :)

Here's to the much-too-short summer months that are finally here... and lots of walks to the park with kids who have no homework!

Dear Liz and Madi,

Today I am missing you even more than usual. Your daddy showed me a video of you in your beautiful dance costumes. I wish I could see you dance and give you hugs. You are getting so big and so smart! It makes me so sad to know that we've missed so much of your little lives. Both of you are so beautiful.

Barrett still seems like a dream to me. He's not quite real because I've never seen him... but he sure looks as cute as you in the video chats I've seen! He's got your same cute faces and pretty blond hair. He and my little Max are the same age... they would love to play together!

Madi, when you left last time you were so small and funny. Your words weren't very clear yet, and you always pointed to Max and said, "Mac-sh!" I will never forget your tiny little voice and how you gave me lots of hugs.

Lizzie, you're so smart! I can't believe you are graduating Kindergarten already. What a big girl you are, and I'm so proud of you for learning so much! I didn't know you were such a good reader; I'll have to send you some books!

We miss you and love you so much, little girls. We wish you could be here with us every day! Please write us a letter and tell us how you are doing, Josh and Asher and Max miss you too!

I hope you can come stay with us this summer!!!

Love always,
Aunt Aubrey

Running is hard.

What, you think that's too obvious a statement to act as if it is news or something? Well, I'll tell ya what...

We moved to Land of the Runners recently. This new city we've moved to (which I will heretofore refer to as LotR, not to be confused with Lord of the Rings) is very beautiful with adorable old houses and wonderfully grown-in trees. Here in Land of the Runners there is a constant parade of extremely fit women and men showing off how effortlessly they listen to their iPods while shedding pounds in their super cute little running outfits. They're so friendly, always waving hello as they pass, smiling like they aren't even breathing hard. It's so inspiring! The beautiful scenery and the beautiful people who enjoy it every day have been making me long for my body back, and have caused me to beg Steve to invest in running shoes for me.

The Shoes

Yesterday we went to buy my new shoes, and I was pretty sure I was going to die of happiness when I got to take them home. I couldn't wait to go for a run!

6 am... alarm went off.
6:15... Husband nudges me. "If you're going on your run, get up now, cause I want to go before the kids wake up, too."
6:45... Husband comes home from his run. Apparently at some point I told him to go on his run while I went back to sleep.
7:00... Husband: "Seriously, hon, if you are going on your run, you have to go now. It's getting late."
I'm pretty sure I remember mumbling something at him... but I can't be sure what. Something about running later in the day, when it wasn't so cold and my muscles weren't feeling so much like petrified wood.

I finally put my running pants and new shoes on when it was time to pick Asher up from preschool (about 12:30 pm). I decided to run to his school, and walk back (since he can't keep up with me).

(BTW, I look like this in my head. My mind hasn't accepted that my body has changed drastically.)

I made it about eight feet. The breathlessness that ensued was, well, downright embarrassing.

Who cares that I ran eight feet and walked a mile and a half?
Who cares that I came home and celebrated my first attempt with a chocolate 'Creamies' bar?
Who cares that I have waaaaaay more work to do than I ever thought?

I'm doing it, and I am determined to run these shoes to shreds.
Even if it takes me three years to wear them out, that's precisely what I'm going to do.

I thought I saw you

Dear H.W.,

I thought I saw you at the grocery store this morning. I'm still not entirely sure it wasn't you, except for that you didn't react to me when I looked at you. Even if it wasn't you, it affected me. I'm shaken, a little bit lost, and I can't remember what I was going to do today.

You must still be out there somewhere. It seems strange I haven't run into you yet, actually. If there was one person I'd rather not see on this planet, it would be you... so doesn't my luck predict that I would, of course, run onto you frequently?

He asked me what I would do or say if it was you.

Do I even know? Somehow I haven't even thought about it.
I guess it seemed obvious.
But it's not obvious... at this point, I might even just want to ignore you and pretend you weren't real. Isn't moving on with my life more important anyway?

I must have turned a corner without realizing it.
Somehow, I just want you to disappear into the past and let me forget you.
When did my desire for revenge and anger melt away? I didn't even notice it going.

Here's to never seeing you again, H.W.
Please stop haunting me.

Very insincerely,
Aubrey Anne

Man, it feels good to be myself again.

My good friend Courtney covered up all the blonde... I'm me again!

...well, I will be when I start working out/running...

The night we thought our baby might die.

So I'm a brunette. And I think I'm meant to stay that way! Maybe I was just sick of the blonde for now, but it sure seems like this is what I ought to have been all along. I feel like me again.

My kids responded pretty strongly to the change.
Joshua saw me and said, "What happened to your hair?"
I said, "Courtney changed it to brown. Do you like it?"
"Hmm," he said, looking completely bewildered, and he walked away.
Later that day he came up to me and said politely, "Mom, I don't want to make you feel bad, but I really liked your hair the way it was before. You didn't need to change it."
Ah, Joshua. Always the sweet one. :)

Asher said, "Mom! I thought you had blonde hair!"
"I did," I said. "Courtney changed it to brown. Do you like it?"
"Um... I guess. But you look beautiful with blonde hair!"
Later that week he heard me say something about my hair being a mess, so he said, "But Mom! You look beautiful with your new brown hair!"

Max didn't seem to notice at all. He loves me to pieces lately, which is a huge change! I am loving the attention from him, since he never seemed to notice me much before.

Husband hasn't had much of a reaction at all, which is annoying, to say the least. I guess that's what I get, knowing he loved the blonde!

So you want to know about the night my baby almost died? Fine, I'll tell you.
It wasn't pleasant.


Whenever Max gets a cold, he gets really sick. It isn't just a little cold for him, it always takes on a life of its own and takes over his body. There's almost always something more serious accompanying Max's sniffles, so I've turned into that mom who calls the doctor the minute her baby sneezes. So far it has always proven necessary with 3rd Baby. A couple weeks ago he came down with a cold, accompanied by high fever. I took him to the doctor, she checked his ears and said he had two ear infections. Knowing Max's stomach doesn't tolerate antibiotics [anything] well, we decided to give him two rounds of shots instead of oral antibiotics. He seemed to be better in a matter of hours, and we moved on with our lives.

About a week later Max had a bad fever again. I took him to the doc that day to have him checked out, and she said his ears were fine, but his heartbeat was concerning her. It was about 152, which was high for him, and he didn't currently have a fever. She sent us home with instructions to use his inhaler and keep up with the Motrin. The next morning he was acting all better, so we went to Husband's mother's house for the evening. I left the baby with my mother-in-law for twenty minutes while I picked Husband up from work, and on my way back I got a phone call from her, wondering if I had any Tylenol for him. Apparently he was burning up. I said I'd stop at the store for more Ibuprofen on the way back, and I'd be there soon.

When Husband and I got back to the house (only 25 minutes after we'd left), little Max was screaming and bright red all over. They had taken his clothes off and he was still sweating. Mother-in-law took his temp and it was 103.8 degrees! We tried to give him Ibuprofen we bought, but he immediately threw it up all over me, so we just drove him straight to Primary Children's Hospital. (Best hospital in the world. Love them.) Thank goodness for Medicaid, because this little one has become a very expensive little one when it comes to medical stuff! We would be on the street if we had had to pay for his bills all by ourselves.

At the ER, the Triage RN said his heart rate was way too high (but didn't tell us what it was), and his temperature had climbed to 105.8. The doctors came in, one after another, panicking about my little baby. They told us he had been classified as the highest level of concern in the Triage, which is red, so we'd be seeing a lot of docs in a very short amount of time. They weren't kidding.

One thing you should know is that I have an extreme fear of needles. Maybe it's more a fear of blood? Either way, I can barely stand to make my kids get immunizations (but I do because I care about them), and drawing blood or IV's is just beyond torturous. Thank God we have the technology, but I will seriously pass out. Anyway, the nurses had to put an IV in my little guy, and they sucked at it, so they had to try three different times. The third time's a charm, but I ended up in the hall hyperventilating, so Husband held him through it. (I already feel like the worst mom ever for not staying in there to hold him, so don't judge. Probably would have been worse had I passed out!)

When I came back in the room, my baby's little hand was all wrapped up and the tears streaming down his face were just too much. The nurse (another one) said, "I'm not sure what tests they're going to want to run, but he'll probably order a catheter to test for UTI." I burst into tears, and I'm pretty sure I shouted, "You are KIDDING ME!" at her... but I can't be certain. (Apparently I'm THAT mom.) It turns out she didn't know what she was talking about, she was just guessing out loud... and I didn't see her again.

Apparently my little outburst triggered a shift change. Oops.

After three hours of IV fluids, lab tests that showed basically nothing, and a chest X-ray, the doctors let us go home. They said his temperature had come down to normal (after a dose of Motrin), and his heart rate wasn't quite what they wanted it to be, but they didn't see any reason they would need to keep him. They informed me that my baby's heart rate had risen to 211, when it should sit around 130-ish, so it was almost double what it should be.

As I said, thank God for modern medicine (and Medicaid)! In another country, my son might have died from this. I was still really worried about him because they said his little heart was working so hard, but there was no pneumonia on the X-ray, so we took our little guy home. Later we found out there is a virus going around that presents with high fever and no other symptoms, so look out for that if you have kids!

Our little Max is back to being an angel now, maybe even more than before... and finally healthy again (knock on wood)!

Not by chance

Husband and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary last month. 

We've been married 6 years! Every year I think, "I can hardly believe it's been that long," and, "Are you sure it hasn't been longer?" at the same time. We have had a long, interesting history, which would make a very dramatic, frustrating romance novel were I to write it all down.

April marked an even bigger anniversary for us, though. Yes, we've been married six years, and yes - we've been together eight years... but a few days ago marked the one-year mark since Husband and I have been back together.

A little time line for those who are less informed:

August 2009 - We split up. It was a miserable, traumatic experience that I prefer not to re-live.
September 2009 - Husband moved out. I enjoy re-living that experience even less.
November 2009 - Our son Max was born 5 weeks premature, spent 2 weeks in the NICU together, hoping our baby would survive.
January 2010 - The kids and I moved into my mom's house and Husband took back the apartment. (Packing up and moving out... by far the worst day of my life.)
April 2010 - Husband and I spilled our hearts out onto the floor, admitting every little painful detail of our past and present, and decided to pick up the pieces and try putting them back together again. (The picture above was taken just a few days after that.)
May 2010 - Husband moved in with us (at my mom's), and we started the horrific and emotional process of tying our lives back into one single fabric.

It's a year later, and we have made it farther than anyone thought we would. I can't say that we are the best couple on earth, but we are definitely succeeding. We have worked through so many things I never imagined we could get through, and I am beyond pleasantly surprised that we are where we are.

April 2011 - Husband & I moved into an apartment together again, where we are - and even feel like - a family. We haven't felt this much like a family since 2006, back when we were Soldier & wife, starting out our married life in Abilene, Kansas.  The four years in the Army felt like an eternity in Hell, but now it seems like a lifetime ago.

We spent 8 months separated, and now we've been together for an entire year... and counting.
 I do believe miracles happen.