Lookouts!

~

Alas.

The Sparrow succesfully concluded his first attempt at team sports - TEE BALL!

This morning was the last game for Number 7, aka "Buckshot".

Batting 7th, Number 7, Jake "Buckshot" Fallon!

If we compare his current baseball skillset to those he had yet to learn on the FIRST day of practice, then, heckfire that boy is headed for Cooperstown!




I won't brag too much.








There's no question he was NOT the best player on the team, but he was most definitely NOT the worst player on the team either.

Today, was his last game of the fall season as a Chattanooga Lookout.

"Be BASEBALL - READY!"

"It's all yours, tough guy!  YOUR ball!"

"Yay Buckshot!"  Throw to first base!  Woohoo!

So cute when his coach picks him up to line his feet up!

(Photo credit to the Great Uncle Chris)

"Way to Mash that ball, Buckshot!" - (Photo Credit to the Great Uncle Chris)

 

"And he's safe at first, with two runs batted in....  Woohoo!"

Lookouts WIN!  Lookouts WIN!  Lookouts Win!

 Actually, that's what we WOULD be saying of the teams kept score.  And perhaps if the coaches actually called batters 'out'!  But this is my blog, and I'm using my creative licensing to tell it MY way!

 Coaches and Teammates - Jake is in the middle of the front row (photo credit to Awesome Uncle Chris)

And now, I just tucked in a very sleepy little Lookout, who says he is having he "Best Weekend Eh=VAH!", and who is tightly snuggled up with his very first trophy, and a cool little bobblehead trophy at that!

We are already so excited about what our baseball life shall have for us in the spring!

All four of us have thoroughly enjoyed watching our son physically excel while developing his hand/eye coordation.

And Two Swords and I have giggled as we have enjoyed our newly 'developing' daughter suddenly garner lots and lots and (did I say 'lots'?) lots of very sweet attention from lots and lots and lots and lots of baseball boys, and baseball brothers and baseball cousins.  She has taken all the attention in stride, and keeps that nose of hers in a big 'ole Chapter Book!

And I don't know how they did it, as miracles never cease if you just BELIEVE, but someway, somehow, these three super awesome coaches and dads, SOMEHOW either skilled him or tricked Jake into focusing enough to play baseball - to respond to the crack at the bat, to throw to first base if it was your played ball, to be a true sportsman even if you can't say about others around you.....just a few in the litany of "I know how to play baseball" hypothesis/proof/theroem......



It's been loads of fun.....can't wait to see him continue to grow in doing something that he loves.

~

Icepick

~

Icepick:

You know who you are.

And these words of yours have hit me where I needed it.

• I also knew you before. And I have know you after. Believe it or not you're still pretty much the same person. Obviously older now, but that beats the alternative.
  
  There was a change, though. For a long time after you met Billy you were much happier than you had been before. Even with that damnable illness. So don't let all the crap that's piled up in the last three years bury that truth.

Thank you.

In the past 48 hours, the sun has started to rise again.

And may I say this to you, and to all my friends, if I have never said it before, I will say it now.

Meeting..........

Being Fervently Pursued By..........

Giving In To............

Dating.........

 - Despite all my furtive attempts not to:

Falling Deeply,

Passionately,

Unrealistically,

Unpreparedly,

Historically,

Wholly and Madly

IN LOVE WITH AND

Being Chosen By.............

AND CHOOSING

TO MARRY

BILLY TWO SWORDS.........

has been the beginning of the series of most FORTUNATE events.

And yes, my dear old friend Icepick knows.

Even at the darkest hours in the past 11 years, and yes, there have been some blacked out days...........

.......even in those darkest of hours.............

My life is so very rich because this man asked me to be his wife.

Because this man, human as man can be, chose to bind with this woman, human as man can be.

Because although we were cut from separate cloth,

somehow,

we have been able to weave together a beautiful,

albeit somewhat worn and tattered,

patchwork quilt.

With two beautiful threads of gold, keeping it all together.

Somehow.

And though he may go left and I may go right, at the end of the day,

at the end of

EVERY SINGLE DAY,

our wants and desires are

EXACTLY

the same as they were,

'before'.

To be husband and wife.

To raise beautiful children with God's help and guidance.

To grow them God's way, to make them loud and proud and good and decent and loving and lovable and great American kids.

To worship God, side by side, in the same pew, with our children, offering thanks upon thanks for the so very many blessings bestowed upon us.

To honor our families and friends.

To live, and to give our children, the best life we possibly can.

To .....

.......N E V E R..........

.....................G I V E......................

...................................U P.........................


It's time I get back to our family creed.

It's time I get back to "Sucking It Up."

Thanks for the 2x4, Icepick.

It's the second one I got this week.

Two Swords got the first whack, but then again, he probably earned it.


~

'before'

~

So.

Today, one of my oldest and dearest friends, Marguerita, checked in on me by asking very concernedly,
"How Ya Doin?............."

As she is one of my oldest and dearest friends, I know that she was reaching out to me because I've been, say, um, kinda 'out of the picture' lately.

Haven't been out and about.

Haven't been Facebooking.

Haven't been blogging.

Haven't been........a whole much of anything.

One would think that Marguerita's simple question could be, in fact, simply answered.

But then again, we're talking about ME.

Ugh.

Honestly, she could quite possibly be the only person in the whole world who might even be able to understand, cuz, she's like the one person  in the whole world who has known me the longest.

She knew me 'before'.

'before'.

you know.

when i was super smart, and super hot, and super healthy, and super twenty-eight, and super active, and super cute, and super tiny, and super sassy, and super successful, and super spinning the world on its side.

'before'.

'before' I got sick.

There is so much that has happened.

I have become this, this, being, I don't know even know what or who it is.

Yeah, I could end up writing for hours, so if I do, I'm sorry.

I've been watching A LOT of Dubya on TV lately.

Because he's my super secret crush, and I think he's a super american hero, and I just wanna hug him and tell him i love him and we all love him and i'm so sorry for how WRONGLY he has been treated for the past 10 years.

And because what he says INTERESTS me, because you know, 9/11 was OUR Pearl Harbor, or OUR Vietnam.

9/11 was you, and me, and it is such a vital part of our history and our currency, and it is IMPOSSIBLE to explain it to my children, and they are geniuses.

So where was I?

Oh yeah, yummy Dubya.  Right.

So his new book is all about Decision Points.

I'm sure you've been listening or watching or whatever, so I won't go into it.

But in the past few weeks, I've seen that my own life has its own Decision Points.

No, I ain't no freaking George W. Bush, or Axis of Evildoer Killer or anything like that, don't worry, I'm not delusional.

And you know my life history, so I don't need to rehash that crap, and you know I'm a Christian, so just kinda put that in the Bible and close the book for a minute and just kinda absorb what I'm saying, because it could easily be taken out of context.

So here it goes.

I am a horrible wife and mother.

BUT -- I USED TO BE an AWESOME wife and mother ...and...and....and....

I don't like to clean up people's messes.

I don't like being responsible for two kids a dog a husband and myself for 100% of everything.

I don't like to mop, or dust, or sweep, or cook, or mend, or......I freaking hate it.

Sorry.

I absolutely HATE being a stay at home mom.


Now, breathe for a second.

I love my children like God loved Jesus, and you know I do.

Those two miracles were ripped from MY loins.

I know their cries, I know their laughs, I know every scar on their bodies, and i know where they came from, and I can tell you when and how it happened, and maybe even what they were wearing that day.

I love to brag about my kids.

I love to laugh at 'em and with 'em.

I love to help them with their homework.

I love when they ask if they can crawl into bed with me and watch "Billy the Extermintator" or "Fox and Friends" (true story - Jake has the hots for Gretchen Carlson).

I don't have to tell you how lovable my kids are, you already know.

But, to borrow from the title of a really bad book and movie, there have been a series of unfortunate events.

Let's just say that last year sucked.  Big donkey balls.

Death, disease, death, destruction, near death, horrific accidents, marital meltdowns, and watching my daughter DIE in the arms of her father, only to come back to life three minutes later.

So yeah, that one day in April sent me and billy both into a potentially unrecoverable tailspain.

I think I had PTSD, I really do.

Our marriage began its dissolution right then and there.

Our daughter lived (thank you, thank you, thank you GOD!), but a whole lot of 'us' died that die.

And no, of course not, it doesn't make any sense.

And nope, the resident psychologist who always has the answers for everyone else, can't get herself or anyone else around her 'fixed'.

But of course I thank God that my baby girl is currently sound asleep in her bedroom, tucked in with her 9 year old baby blanket, still sucking her thumb at night, an outrageous mop of curls on her head, and a gorgeous 'new' smile since her teeth have all come in.

Of course I do.

Where the heck am i going with this?

Remember when I got married to this guy that nobody would have ever thought would have been the one for me?

And then how suddenly, tomboy Rojo started wearing makeup, and coloring her hair, and deciding that maybe it was okay to look like a pretty girl, and hey maybe having kids would be kinda neat and then omg, I am twenty nine years old, I must have babies right freaking now to..............AND THEN I GOT SICK.

Yeah.

And that's my struggle.

Daily, hourly, weekly, constantly, whichever adverb you choose to use.

On February 28, 2008, I gave it up.

I stopped pretending that I could be Super Mom, Super Wife, Super Employee,Super Poster Child for the Chronically Ill Who Can Still Do It All!!!, Super Deacon, Super Friend, Super Daughter, Super Aunt, Super Human who always writes thank you notes and gets her Christmas cards out by December 1st every single year.

I stopped.

Because God told me to.

simple as that.

Because if I didn't stop, I was going to die.

And those two babies would never know any part of me.

And Up until that day in time, I had successfully hidden my Crohn's from the kids.

But on that day, God told me to stop, and i did.

I stopped trying to be anything BUT a wife and a mother.

And i did it to save my life.

And to save my family.

At the same time, I LOST the very person who I had BECOME.

It has been over 2 years.

I ache to be able to be 'her' again.

A normal person.

One who works HARD to provide for her family.

One who enjoys venturing out of the home.

One who simply likes to be around her friends and laugh at people named Beavis.

One who causes so many problems due to her 'combative' nature that there are never enough hours in the day to fix the damage which my mouth hath wrought.

I haven't gotten her back yet.

And the older I get, the more torture my body endures.

Every day, there is less I am able to do.

I can't get down on the floor and play with my babies.

I can't give my son the little brother he so desperately wants and most probably deserves.

My illness has advanced beyond science.

I'm just kinda biding my time, waiting for technology to catch up.


In the meantime, so very much has been lost.

I had even stopped praying for awhile.

We had simply run out of money.

I couldn't even afford to have a treatment, that's how bad it had gotten.

Thankfully, some funds were raised, and we're okay for a little while.

And hopefully, Billy will start at a 'real' job soon.

And maybe just maybe, GOD willing, I will receive acceptance of my 2+ year disability claim.

And perhaps, I may even regain my joie de vivre again.

But right now, how am I doing?

Well, I'm sad.


I'm sad that I'm 40 and that I'm 65 pounds overweight (thank YOU prednisone!).

And I'm sick.

And I hurt.

And I've started to give up.

And I don't really engage with people anymore.

You might say it's depression, I call it avoidance.

I don't have anything witty to say or any clever conversation to offer.

And I'm angry.

And resentful.

And confused.

And so very, very, very .......... tired.

I just realized something.

You're probably reading this and thinking, "Heather is so freaking incredibly selfish just because she is sick all the time, and OMG who does she think she is, cuz my friend DIED and his kids don't have him at ALL and she sure is selfish..."

You're right.

I should'nt have written any of this.  

I should have just lied and told you "GREAT" and glorified God even though he knew I was lying.

I love you Marguerita, and I don't make any sense to anyone anymore, even myself.

But I had to see a court appointed shrink for my SSI claim a couple of weeks ago, and well, it's kinda hard to explain to a stranger that "this Heather was like THIS", and "this Heather that you see today is simply not the same person" and then I started bawling telling her how I was this totally awesome career chick who was totally meant for greatness and how I used to go home to my totally awesome apartment and run for three totally awesome miles every day before I went to the mall to pick out a new pair of sexy shoes before me and my friend Jaynie would go pimping downtown, before...

........before I got sick.

My life used to have a dividing line of , 'and then I met billy'.

Now, my life span has been divided by these four words:

"before I got sick."

Anyway, this shrink said that most people don't understand that oftentimes we don't get to choose our life, that life chooses us.

When you read that statement over and over, it sounds pretty powerful.  And even more powerful if you add, "that GOD chooses our life for us."

AND RIGHT THERE LIES MY CONUNDRUM.

The root of my problem.

The bane of my existence.

The whole "God has a plan" nonsense that spills out of my mouth more than anyone else's, in a desperately vain attempt to remain upbeat and positive because that's what everyone ELSE needs to hear.

GOD CHOOSES US.

GOD told me to stop working.

I don't know what he wants from me now.

My body has been taken from me, bruised and battered and beaten.

My marriage has been crumbling like old crusty bread.

My children may soon join their parents as some of 'those' people who are homeless.

Nope.

Never saw this coming, mates,

Thought all my battles were behind me once I hit the smooth stride of my late twenties.

I had no idea that once I joined in to take up the cross, that my life was not beginning anew, but it was damn sure gonna change.

So. FINALLY, in answer to Marguerita's question, I guess I would have to say that...I'm doing okay, we've been through some rough stuff, but we're all still together, and the kids are doing awesome and I hope they love me a little bit, cuz I love them tons and tons and the house sure is lonely while they are gone at school and i love watching Jake play teeball and i love hearing Reilly sing old timey gospel music in a trio at church, and my the sight of my husband still makes my heart spin even though life has pushed us away from each other and we haven't a clue how to reconcile it back, but hey, we're all still here, still in the same house, still blessing our bread before supper, still sitting in the same pew on Sunday mornings, still gladfully tithing and constantly seeking Him.

Yep.

That's what i should have to your question.