Just another manic monday....

It's another Monday morning here at home.

I wake everyone, including a 12-year-old who is only inches from my face when it is time to wake up.

She had a bad dream somewhere in the 1-2:00 a.m.-range of the night. 

We are all getting ready for the day....

...checking emails and facebook messages.

Good news right there from one of my sisters.  I don't know the details yet, but I do know that she is posting that she is happy with the judge's decision in Texas, regarding some potentially life-changing news for her and her son.  It is always good when the justice system actually works.  Especially when kids are involved.  I could go on and on about that...but we are calling today a good day.

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The Wildcat gets ready and we head to the University Hospital.

For what we are hoping and praying is our last appointment there.  Ever.

We met with our pediatric hematology/oncology doctor.

He gets through all the preliminaries of getting blood drawn, height, weight, blood pressure.

He argues a bit over what they tell him is his height.  He thinks he is 2 inches taller than what they tell him.

Clearly they don't know what they are talking about at the University Pediatric Oncology Clinic.  

She goes over Nathan's recent labs.

He has "baby red blood cells" she tells us.

This means he is producing his own red blood cells.  Properly.  Without further blood transfusions.  And there are enough of them.  

We are not offended by the term "baby" the way "we" were over the height-issue. 

Our doctor goes through things with us.  When Nathan was first presented at the University, every symptom could not be explained by anything that would appear to be a normal reason.  It was necessary to test the bone marrow.  Every indication was that leukemia was the cause of the symptoms. 

It was a rare virus that was the cause. 

Viruses can do that.

They can sneak in and attack you and mimic something worse than what it is. 

And we are so thankful that it was a virus. 

Even though it has taken months to recoup from it. 

Patience.

Apparently a lesson we needed to learn.

A lesson that is just a hair shy of causing mama a nervous breakdown.

So now the Wildcat is back to worrying about the Spanish test and world history project.  And it feels so good to have these worries.  It totally beats the thought of when the next bone marrow biopsy needs to be scheduled.  Which is what we were originally told to be ready for.

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While at the University, we got to stop and peek in on my newest baby niece.  Born  a premie.  She is doing great. The Wildcat and I both got to hold her.

I have never held a baby this small.

The Wildcat was actually about twice her weight when he was born.

I took pictures.

Then left my camera in the hospital room.

Of course.

We were in a hurry and "worried" about the spanish test.


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Also just got word that Brian's son may in fact be participating in the indoor track nationals.

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And right now I am making dinner for 30 people tonight.

....don't ask.  

oh-my-heavens-to-betsy

.....

so, I think that is slang for "oh my."

this is my oldest baby girl, Marz:

This is her after I did her hair and she is getting ready to go....
....to her confirmation.

Shouldn't it be a sin to be so beautiful for your confirmation?

That is "okay" she tells me.

Because after confirmation, she is changing into a different dress to go to the dance at the school.

 And she is most likely going to wear converse shoes with the even sexier dress (it hurts me to type those words) to the dance. 

So....okay.  Call me when the dance gets over.  I'll have some popcorn ready and we can talk all about everything I am really scared to hear about. 

Dear Marz,

Mama loves you.  

I am so proud of you.

I'm sorry that I can't be at the church while you are there.

 

But so glad that you will be here with your friends to celebrate when you are done. 

so here's how the proposal went down...

None of our kids were home last night.

And none of our kids had ballgames last night.

A rarity with us.

Brian asked me on Monday if I wanted to go out for dinner on Tuesday. 

I sort of knew something was up, but not because of the dinner-out-on-Tuesday invite....

....something was up because last week he started picking his dirty laundry up off the floor and placing it in the laundry basket located literally just a few steps away from the aforementioned pile-up that collected on the bathroom floor.

....but to me, this was a huge step.

and romantic, if I do say so myself.

hmmmmm.  something is going on here.  

So then we are driving into town and we go to the mall.  Not a place we shop at often.  But Brian needed a new belt.

I've been telling him he needed a belt for months.

hmmmmmm.....picking up the laundry AND finally making this purchase I've been telling him to make for a long time? 

I knew then that we were shopping for a ring.

We did.

I picked out a super gorgeous band that was a little wider than a traditional wedding band and had small diamonds in a design throughout  the ring.  I don't really like the traditional diamond engagement rings....at least not on my hand. 

But we walked around the store and Brian saw another ring.  It had a little more color in it.  I really loved it.  So much that I almost walked out of the store with two rings.  Not even kidding. 

I got the one that Brian picked out.  Which is funny because he wanted to shop for rings with me because he was nervous about getting just the right one.

So we go out to eat and we head home.

The ring is still in the box.  Because I know that Brian wants to propose marriage to me in his own unique and memorable way.

Like, in his t-shirt and underwear.

Sort of fitting, considering it was this type of laundry that first alerted me to the fact that something was going on. 

So I'm in my room, in my jammies, checking emails and he comes in and gets down on one knee and....after five short years of dating....he proposes.

I said sure!

And I cried.  And I went and got this letter that I wrote to him:

I love you.

And I love you and me together.  

You have been there for me when all is well:  the good days of parenting, the exciting times when something I have written makes it to publication, when I am feeling on top of my game and on top of the world.

You have been there for me on days of nothing special:  the days of going through the motions, we eat, work, sleep and wake up and do it all again the next day. 

You have been there for me in times of trial:  when good health wasn’t a guarantee, when kids veer from what we think is best, when money in the bank doesn’t exist, when motives have been attacked by those on the outside.

You have been there for me even when you weren’t sure you understood me:  you listen to my off-the-wall way of making sense of things, you don’t roll your eyes at me when my mouth doesn’t take the time to filter through things that should have stayed in my head, and month after month you put up with the emotional roller coaster ride that I drag you on.  (You should get a medal for that one)

The last five years have been full of life and everything that it means.  Fun, games, humor. Happy tears, sad tears, trials of many varieties.  Kids…mine and yours. 

The writer in me knows that every good story worth immersing yourself in takes the reader through ups and downs, with love, action and mystery.  One in which the reader feels connected with the words on the page.  Our story has not been the perfect fairy tale.  But it is our perfect story, a story that I am connected to on a soul-level, and one that is still being written.  It has taken us a while to figure out that the only thing that comes close to the perfect that we wish for is this: 

You and me together.  Living life with all of its ups and downs…together.

Yes, I will marry you.  I will proudly walk through each chapter of the rest of our lives together with you.