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Last week I sent out a mass text to all my family that I really didn't want to have to send: our three-year-old son had been admitted into the Children's Hospital at UVA for atypical, multi-focal pneumonia (Sounds kinda fancy...basically there were about three main spots--multi-focal--of his lungs that were effected. I'm not sure what made it atypical.). We had taken him to the doctor the week before because he had a cough (so did I) that sounded yucky and he had a fever and just generally wasn't feeling well. They said he had a bad respiratory infection and sent him home on the antibiotic amoxicillin. He did better for a couple days, but then drastically went downhill. He didn't want to eat, he barely drank, he didn't smile, he didn't play. He basically slept all day and all night, waking occasionally to cry out. It was the worst time of my life (I know, this isn't about me, but if you're a parent, I think you totally understand what I mean). I didn't know what to do. This wasn't our little monkey. This wasn't the little silly creature that would spin around, stop, and tell me very seriously that his "eyes were all spinny." This wasn't the little cuddler that would randomly throw his arms around my leg and say so sweetly, "I love you, mommy." This wasn't our little boy. He didn't want baths. He didn't want story time. He didn't want smoothies.
So I set up another appointment with our regular doctor (the one before was at MedExpress), who quite literally took one look at his pitiful form and quick, shallow breathing and told us to immediately go to the ER at UVA. We headed on down and were taken back almost immediately. He was a complete trooper when they put a catheter in, even despite having to try two different locations. It took a while, but we were admitted into the pediatric wing that night (Wednesday, January 28th). We thought we'd only be there for the night, get some treatments, and be sent home for recovery. He was a little better the next day, though still not eating or drinking well. He was put on an IV drip and oxygen. Mema and Papaw (my parents) snuck him in some homemade cookies, which he was really happy about, but then started coughing and didn't want anymore. The next day he got worse again. The doctors reassured us that he probably would get worse before getting better, as things started breaking up and moving around and such. I left my bedside vigil that day to go to the doctor myself, as my cough had gotten worse and sinus pressure was painful. Mike had gone earlier that day for his cough (Yeah...the WHOLE family was sick. They say sharing is caring!) and was just diagnosed with a viral infection that had to run it's course. I wasn't quite so lucky and was diagnosed with a bad bronchitis, being put on antibiotics immediately so I didn't wind up in the hospital with Jake. Maybe we could have gotten a family suite?

That may have been the deepest part of our pit, as the following days got better and better. Jake started eating more, was moving around, taken off of oxygen, and finally giving us glimpses of his mischievous smile. We had a slight backslide when his catheter blocked and they couldn't find another good vein (it took them five tries to get one). We could have come home last night, but his breathing was slightly labored so we stayed just to be on the safe side.
Now we are home. He's eating well enough, playing with his toys, watching TV, and slowly getting back to normal. We still have a little way to go yet, both him and me, but by God's great grace, we'll get there.
In true "Life's a Musical" form, I had a few songs go through my head at random moments while in the hospital. They're good songs. You should take a listen.

~"Overwhelmed" Big Daddy Weave
~"Please Come Home Soon" SheDaisy (this was running through my mind after the second day when he started getting worse again...I know it's a military song, but it's all I thought of)
~"Stronger" Mandisa
~"I Will Follow" Chris Tomlin
~"Takes a Little Time" Amy Grant

I'm Easy Like a Sunday Morning

Mike got a daily devotional book from the chaplains at the jail for Christmas. Though I haven't been the greatest at looking at it every day, I grab it when I think about it. Today's struck me a little bit.
In summary, it talked about wanting to take the easy way out of a challenge. A woman is invited to a party and the only thing left on the food list to bring is salad. She inwardly complained because her salads never turn out very well and would rather have brought a casserole or rice dish. Then she sees a note she had written to herself prior to this situation urging to challenge herself: "When you do hard things, your brain grows." In the end she stepped up to the challenge of making a salad for the party despite previous failures.
Now, you may be thinking, "Really? Salad? How can you mess that up?" Obviously making a salad was not the point I'm trying to get across. How many times do we get tested by God and try to find some easier way of doing it? In some ways, maybe He lets us get away with it. Other times He really wants us to use our noggins and talents that He has given us. There are many times that I would love to just cop out and say, "Nope. I'm not feeling it." I stay at home with my son and groom dogs when clients call for appointments. Even though I'm pretty good at it and love it, I freak out almost every single time I set up an appointment because I almost don't want to do it. My brain goes into overdrive and thinks of all the bad scenarios that could happen, and it's enough to make me want to take the easy way out and stop grooming all together, just so I don't have to face that possibility of rejection from the client. That's when God reminds me of my love for it and I'm okay.
God wants us to take the more difficult path because He wants us to grow, to learn. He doesn't mind if we make mistakes. That's how our "brains grow." And if we make mistakes, He wants us to turn to Him for the answers.

There's a quote I heard years ago that's stuck with me and I repeat it to myself occasionally in times of trial: "God doesn't like the easy way."

Dream Weaver

Last night I had the strangest dream. Now, I have some really weird dreams, even when I'm not pregnant! I also have had dreams (well, nightmares, unfortunately) come true. I don't realize what they're about until the tragic event happens, however. It's the reason I still believe that my friend didn't fall asleep at the wheel, but instead swerved to avoid hitting an animal. But that's not entirely what this post is about.
My dream last night is bugging me a little bit. It just seemed to have some sort of message to it, mostly by symbolism (you'll see what I mean), and I don't know how to even begin to interpret it. Yes, I'm into dream interpretation. I agree that some dreams are just jumbles, some sort of inner expression that releases itself at night (or whenever you're sleeping). But others are God's way of telling us something. Throughout the Bible there are examples of dreams being sent as warnings of things to come.
So, the dream...It's a little bit here and there, so bear with me as I describe it the best I can.

It started out I'm in high school, working on a group project with two other people. We're working in our group and a group member is discussing her opinion when the teacher (who happens to be Cammie Shelatz!) starts basically bullying her, and telling the student that her opinion is completely wrong and won't even let the student get a word in. I see this happening and finally interrupt Cammie/the teacher's rant against the student, completely blowing up, saying, "I try my best to be respectful to my elders/superiors, but I can't stand for this anymore. I'm reporting you!" And I get up and leave, I guess to report her.
(Here it gets a little goofy, but stay with me) That night, my group and I go to work on our project, which apparently involves filming a behind-the-scenes-type documentary on the beer-making factory that is run by the teacher, who is now played by my old band director, Mr. Cottrill (yeah, it's the same "character" just played by a different "actor"). Cottrill is still ticked off from my earlier blow-up in class and is making snide remarks while giving us a tour of the factory. Meanwhile, I'm trying my best to get all the footage I can that the process the factory uses is not beneficial to the community as Cottrill is saying, but instead hurting the community. I guess we get all the information we need and we leave. On the way out, there's a commotion in a nearby field, and looking through the dark, I see wolves running for their lives (here's where I feel any real symbolism starts, if any) from men dressed up in tribal-looking dress. We begin to be chased by men dressed in regular clothes, so my group runs to the car and leaves.
The next day is a school day. Well, I'm still ticked at Cammie/Cottrill/the teacher, so I skip class, reasoning that I'm a senior anyway, so I'll just say it's a senior skip day. I go to the parking lot to see a rival band packing up and recognize Nick Monteleone (he was a classmate I think a year or two ahead of me in real life...really kinda weird because we weren't close or anything by any means) who gives me a big hug. Well, behind him I see all these wolves tied up on a flatbed trailer. I am irate, and manage to convince Nick to release his wolf captive to me, to which his band-mates are arguing against. The wolf comes over to me with a pup tied to her leg. People gather and try to tell me that it's not my business and try to take the wolf from me, saying that she's wild and I can't handle her. Because I had saved her from whatever fate the other wolves are going to, she stands by my side and instead protects me from the crowd. An Indian tribal official steps forward and tells me that there's nothing I can do, to which I try in vain to plead with him to convince the people to let the wolves go, that there are pups there as well that are too young to survive, but he refuses and says it's for the best. As the truck with the trailer of wolves drives away, I start crying. The wolf I saved comes over and puts her face to mine and cries with me.
Then I wake up.

Yeah...let all that sink in.
To be honest, the first part of this doesn't bother me as much as the wolf "scenes." The only reason I put the school part is because it was part of the entire dream, and if anyone decides to interpret it, maybe there's some insight in that. Or maybe not. Or maybe this is just one of those random, disjointed dreams I have. I kinda have different categories my dreams/nightmares fall into:
1. Random, disjointed, almost psychedelic
2. Story-like (I kinda like these because they're so vivid and detailed, like most of my dreams, but it's basically like watching a movie...I hate waking up from these)
3. Prophetic
4. Pure nightmare (thankfully these are really rare)
5. Memory-like (these are usually when I see something in real life and it gets incorporated into my dream)
6. Symbolic (these are usually basically like the prophetic ones, but involve a lot more symbolism, such as a tornado representing stressful situations in real life)
I don't know if this one falls in prophetic, symbolic, or story-like. The end with the wolves really feels like symbolic, but I just don't know enough about dream interpretation. I looked up what a wolf meant and found this: "To see a wolf in your dream symbolizes survival, beauty, solitude, mystery, self-confidence and pride. You are able to keep your composure in a variety of social circumstances and blend into any situation with ease and grace. You are also a loner by choice. Negatively, the wolf represents hostility, aggression, or sneakiness. It may reflect an uncontrollable situation or an all-consuming force in your life. This could point to an obsession, an addiction or something that is beyond your control."
Anyway...so...yeah...this is a normal dream for me. It's not because I'm pregnant. You know, if you're pregnant you have really wacky dreams. I have those, too, though usually amped up when I'm pregnant, and they typically fall under the first category. But this isn't one of those. If anyone has any insight, I'd be open to hear it.

Here We Go Again

Another year down, another under our belts (well, if you wear a belt). As per tradition that I've kinda started myself on here, I'll give you a recap of our year, as well as hopes, goals, and "predictions" for next year.

1. I looked back at last year's post and saw I had put kind of a cryptic message for #7 about good news that I wasn't allowed to share yet and I had meant to go back and update, but never did. The good news had been that we had found out at Christmas last year that two of my sisters-in-law were pregnant and due about a month apart.
2. We had found out in the spring that we were pregnant with our second child. Sadly, after some complications, we lost our little one at only about eight weeks, only days after we had made the public announcement.
3. The same day that this happened, mom got the call in the morning that her father, my grandfather, had passed away. He was a great man. I remember him reading the book "Rosie's Walk" to me a time or two at his house, and also taking my brothers and I fishing down at the river on mom and dad's property.
4. One last sad note from this past year (they always happen in threes) was when a long-time family friend and dad's old boss and best friend passed away suddenly. Mr. Jenkins was dearly loved, not just by his own family, but our family as well (and I'm sure just about the whole community).
5. Jake turned three, which come to find out, has been thus far a somewhat sassier age than two. (*Sigh*) He is now afraid of the dark, but has discovered he likes holidays, mainly Halloween and Christmas. He is also almost fully potty-trained (Yay!).
6. My two sisters-in-law gave birth to their girls only days apart in July. Emory Catherine Miller was born to Eric and Anna. Kaedynz James Miller was born to Steve and Anna.
7. Due to the Miller side's...um...fertility, mom and dad had a new, much larger room built onto their house. We tested it out fully at Christmas this year and have found it barely efficient. ;-)
8. Speaking of fertility, Jimmy and Kristen announced that they are expecting! Their baby girl (yes, that means that all of my brothers have sired girls) is due late spring.
9. Mike and I discovered that, after the sadness in the spring, we are now pregnant again and due late spring of next year...only days after Kristen! We find out this Monday what we're having (yeah, yeah...we're having a baby).
10. Mike quit his job at AeroJet and accepted a job at Central Virginia Regional Jail in Orange. Thus far it's going well. The hours are better, as are the benefits.

I think that's the most of the big news from the past year. As for the coming year, Lord willing:

1. I always put the usual cliche "lose weight." Well, this time technically it'll be true, as I will hopefully give birth to a healthy baby come spring.
2. We'll also welcome Kristen and Jimmy's new baby.
3. By some miracle build a new (bigger!) house? (*Sigh*)
4. Jake will be FULLY potty-trained.
5. Mike will start official training for the jail. He's already had the basic, but in the spring he's got to go to Fredricksburg for more extensive training.

That's about it. I hope everyone has a blessed and happy new year!

Clean Up, Clean Up, Everybody Clean Up

Why is parenting so hard? Okay, I take that back. To tell you the truth, parenting isn't overall hard. It's the punishment part that sucks. For both you and the kid. I'm sure my mother (and any other more "experienced" parent reading this) is laughing her butt off. Don't get me wrong; my 3-year-old son is AWESOME and I love him more than about anything. He is usually very good and polite and plays well, either by himself or with others. He'll go for days, weeks even, without any major problems. And then, out of nowhere, maybe just to keep me on my toes, BAM! Full-blown insubordination. This comes from what happened this morning. He was playing out in the hallway upstairs while I was getting dressed and ready for the day. I was finishing up and told him to clean up so we could go downstairs. He replied with, "Hold on," and kept on playing. I told him again. He cleaned up two things and went back to playing. Before you know it, I'm threatening spanking, taking away toys, and time out, all the while he's crying and screaming his head off at me and (over)dramatically throwing himself on the floor. I'm sorry if this upsets anyone, but I approve of spanking. However, I had already counted to three twice (with the consequence being three solid whacks on the behind), and we still hadn't gotten very far. So I put him in time out in his room (we don't do time out as often, though I've been using it a bit more lately, especially when spanking doesn't seem to faze him) to get him to calm down. It took a few minutes, but it finally worked and the noise level in our house went considerably down.
Here's where the hard part comes in. You'd think the screaming and yelling and theatrics would have been the hard part. No. For me the hard part is hearing the sniffling and quiet talking to himself afterwards, softly explaining to no one why he had told mommy to wait and that he had only wanted to play with his toys and would have cleaned up when he was done playing (who knows when that would have been).
I don't want to scare off new parents with this story. Honestly, as I said before, my son is normally a great kid and very helpful. But every so often, this...CREATURE...rears its head for about an hour tops (usually not so long, but this morning it must have been restless to show itself and was milking it for all it was worth). And then we go on normally, and enjoy moments like this... :-)

The Gift

Having opened our presents yesterday at our house for Christmas, I am able to get on Facebook and look through all the pictures and videos of friends and family enjoying their Christmas mornings this morning. The best part is seeing the joy on all the kids' faces.
I think of the joy that must have been on Mary and Joseph's faces upon finally meeting their Gift. No, this Gift was not just for them to enjoy, but the entire world. For the wealthy wise men. For the lowly shepherds. For the young. For the old. For the healthy. For the weak. There should be joy on everyone's face, as they have been given the original Gift of God's son, who was sent for our salvation. No, He's not the latest phone or video game console or character doll. He is so much better.

16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.18 Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only Son. (John 3:16-18)

Merry Christmas to all!

God Bless America

This post may be praised. Or met with scorn and hostility. Or, heck, it might even be ignored. But I've seen and heard a couple things recently (okay, "recently" being at LEAST the last decade or so) that kinda sparked me to just write my humble opinion.
What is wrong with people?! I guess everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame, their moment in the spotlight. When they suggest such things as taking down plaques off a school wall that's been there for twenty years or want to change the Pledge of Allegiance to take out "under God," all I can think is "What's the point?" It's been there for so long, why argue it now. If you don't like it or don't want your children to say it, then don't, and raise your children to do how you want them to do. If you don't like seeing it, don't look at it. If you don't want to hear it, change the topic, or the channel. This doesn't necessarily just include religious examples. People fuss about kids seeing too much violence on television. So program what your kids watch or don't let them watch TV. (*Gasp*) No TV?! You mean they'll have to...use their imaginations?! Noooooo! What's this world coming to?
Okay, sorry. That may have been a bit sarcastic. Just a tad. But seriously, people. I feel like these days EVERYONE has to complain about EVERYTHING (kinda like I'm doing now). And if it doesn't change to their way, it WILL be taken to court and publicized on every news station and tabloid in America. And sadly, I feel that religion is the main thing that takes a hit. Well, that and guns, but that could be another subject.
In my opinion, we NEED religion. Yes, I said religion. In fully reality, I truly feel we need God, but I'm trying to take baby steps here. Religion gives people something to believe in. If you don't have religion, what do you believe in? Hopefully at least you believe in right over wrong. But there's got to be a reason for everything. Yeah, I guess science can give reasons. But even science doesn't have all the answers. There are holes in science that have no explanation. If there's a hole in religion, it's filled with God. No, it may not be fully explained to you, but God knows the answer and maybe you're just not supposed to know it at this moment.
I know there's this whole thing of separation of church and state. And that may be some people's goal in throwing a snit about a little girl not being able to explain what her name Faith means in school. But I feel the majority of the pot-stirrers want everything religious removed just so they can fight the system and win. What is the point? Why is God so threatening to you? Why is celebrating Him and His Son so taboo? Does it hurt you to hear His name? Why are you so hell-bent on eradicating everything to do with religion? Yes, in a way I realize I'm coming off a little patronizing and sarcastic with these questions, but at the same time I really would like for someone to tell me the answers so I can better understand. I don't know that it'd necessarily change my opinion, but I'd like to know why a professional football player has to turn his Jesus shirt inside out. It doesn't reflect on the entire NFL. It shows HIS views. If you don't want your children to be around an etching in stone on the wall of the school, is it because maybe, just maybe, you're afraid they might believe? Is that so wrong?


*I know that this post is kind of all over the place, and I hope that you were able to follow along with my train of thought, even when it took a couple detours. This is a little rant that's been a long time coming, and I tried to put it down as comprehensibly as I could, but it was flowing out of my mind through my fingers and I kinda just went with it.