Category: Me

Being conscious of treasures

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We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures.  ~Thornton Wilder

I am making a conscious effort each day to step back at certain moments in time, be it with the kids or work colleagues or Jon or by myself, and appreciate the moment for what it offers to me.  These small retreats build up, and by the time evening rolls in and I am putting on my pjs alongside Maria and Mario, I generally feel grateful for what life has offered me through the day (there are those rare evenings where even a day full of wonderful moments can be demolished by a child going through a temper tantrum). 

There are tons of books and magazines and blog sites touting the benefits of gratitude but it’s not until you actually make that conscious effort of practicing it that it hits home.  I feel more serene when I go to sleep, more hopeful during my day, more positive in my outlook.  Overall, I guess I would say I am more “happy” – whatever that looks like. I simply feel more alive and more connected.

Today, I got to take a run in the morning for the first time in two weeks.  Jon stayed with Mario while I ran through the neighborhood and lifted weights at the gym.  Listening to NPR for 45 minutes was the best gift I could receive from Jon.  On my run home, as I listened to Michael Jackson’s Beat It and looked at the gardens lining our street, I had one of those step-back moments.  I felt an intense swelling of gratitude for Jon, and his selflessness in letting me get up in the mornings to do the thing I love to do.  I also felt grateful for my legs – yeah, my legs!  For allowing me to be able to run the distance I am able to run and let my mind drift as I listen to stories and news on NPR.  It is such a treasure for me.

Later in the day, when I came home from work to find Mario and Jon already back from school, I felt that surge of gratitude rise again.  Mario popped out of the family room with a whopping smile on his face telling me to close my eyes.  When I opened, he had his home-made graduation cap on his head and the same smile across his face. 

“I graduated today, mom!”

Some in his class graduated to Kindergarten today but they let all of the kids make caps (always politically correct).  He was so proud of his creation.  We took a bike ride later to get his haircut, and while on the bike, he asked me to sing to him.  I sang him a rhyming song about how much I loved my boy cuz he was just like a toy, and his toes tasted like soy… (yeah, I know, pretty lame except to a four-year old), and he turned around laughing at me.  It was the sweetest moment.  I replay it in my head as I sit here tonight, and it still makes me smile as I think about it.  When we got to the salon, he made me move away from him while the gal cut his hair because he wanted to be alone with her.  He wanted to tell her how he wanted his hair.  I sat in the seat up front the entire time without him ever calling out for me.  When she finished, he got out of his chair, and walked over to me. 

“What do you think, mom?”

“You look awesome, dude.”

He walked over to the mirror and put his hand through his hair, and nodded his head up and down.  He knew he looked good.  Man, I am grateful for that nut. 

When we got home, Jon told me that he called Maria at Grandma Ionno’s house.  Patty told him how Maria kept her and Joe laughing throughout the day with her quips.  She was telling a story to Patty and Joe and Joe closed his eyes.  She looked at Patty and said “I guess the story was a little long – no wonder Grandpa fell asleep!”  That girl has got a personality to last a lifetime, and I am grateful beyond words to have her in my life (and I miss her like mad – get home, pumpkin girl!).

I am thankful for this consciousness of treasures I continue to sharpen in my daily life.  Now, off to a good-night’s sleep.

Traffic Angst

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I really dislike automobiles. They cause traffic, which I hate even more. I have been in my car for 30 minutes and traveled 4 miles. Thank god I have graduated to a car with AC.

Maria is fast asleep in the back seat. A little strand of drool hanging from her lower lip – a sign of pure deep sleep. Oh, what I would do for even twenty minutes of that right now.

But instead, I hold my eyelids open and blast the cold air to keep my concentration on this road full of big honkin’ engines. I can’t wait to ride my bike later.

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Gratitude Runneth Over

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I have been struggling over the last few weeks with the meaning of my existence.  Ya know, just a light topic to ponder during the day.  Colleagues think I am a blast!  

My crewIn actuality, it is not so much pondering the meaning of my existence as it is pondering what I want to get out of this life.  What do I want to accomplish?  Where will I be in five years?  These heavy questions can weigh me down very quickly, and I have been searching for a way to lift myself out of it when I move from productive questioning to destructive judgment. 

I have found that one exercise is particularly helpful in stabilizing me, at the least, and boosting me, at the most. It is the practice of gratitude.  As soon as I catch myself wallowing in self-pity or feeling like I am not contributing enough, I think of something for which I am grateful.  Today it was a family soccer game.  Jon tried to score on Mario.  Maria and I ran around waiting for our turn.  Jon and I tried to see how many head balls we could do to one another before the ball fell to the ground (don’t ask, it was not impressive).  We all laughed together at Mario’s dives and Maria’s antics.  It was a most enjoyable half of an hour as the sun began to set.  It allowed me to remember to not get so wrapped up in the analysis of everything but to just relax (not a mainstream word in my vocab).  

I have an incredible family and I have a wonderful home and I mean so much to M&M and Jon and friends and cousins.  I don’t have to solve world hunger in order to have accomplished something in my life.  That is not to say that I want to cease questioning where I am and what I want.  To the contrary, this practice of gratitude actually motivates me to want to do more, to challenge myself, to think about what I want to do in the years ahead.  

I am trying to consciously practice this art of gratitude everyday because I feel happier and less anxious when I do it.  It relaxes me.  And it is not that hard.  I could look solely to M&M everyday for something for which to be grateful but I can also look to Jon (most days!), colleagues, the grocery store, you name it.  I think we have so many things happen to us through the day, and we encounter so many people, that we could all fill up our lives practicing gratitude.

Remember that teenager who held the door for you or that old lady who smiled so sweetly at you?  Remember when someone laughed at your lame joke or told you how great you looked?  Remember when your child looked up at you and said “I love you?”  Remember when your partner gave you a goodbye kiss?  Remember when your favorite song came on the radio? Remember when you spotted a cardinal on the rose-bush?

Happy Birthday, Mary Tyler Moore

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I remember watching Mary Tyler Moore in my family room on Schubert Avenue cuddled up in my yellow bean bag with my chips and soda.  I don’t remember any particular episode but I do remember loving the opening music and the scene where she tosses her beret into the sky.  I don’t know why that scene stuck with me when I was ten but in looking back all those years ago, I have to guess it was the joy of becoming an adult.  Being free of the chains of parents and school.  Living in a big city, buying your own groceries, working, and walking through the park all by yourself.  All of the promise and joy ahead for my ten-year old self. 

I watched a clip of the beginning of the show and I get teary-eyed.  Why?  Numerous reasons, I guess.  Thinking of my

Maria will make it after all, too - I know it.

heartache and confusion as a pre-teen.  Thinking of the innocence and playfulness I possessed at that age.  Thinking of Maria growing up with Barbie and Bratz and hoping that she sees enough strong women in her life to turn into one.  Thinking of Mario and hoping he marries one.  Thinking of how short this life is; disbelieving that MTM is 75 years old today (http://entertainment.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2011/12/28/9774970-happy-75th-birthday-mary-tyler-moore).  Wasn’t it just yesterday I sat in that bean bag chair and watched her show?  How has thirty years passed in a toss of a hat? 

I attended an event probably five years ago on behalf of the Women’s Fund of Central Ohio.  Mary Tyler Moore was the keynote speaker.  She amazed me without even saying a word; just seeing her in person awed me.  She discussed her life with the audience of mostly women.  We all listened intently.  She described her battle with Type 1 diabetes, her role in Ordinary People, her times on the MTM show, and her revelation that life can be rough but you simply need to lift your chin and forge your own path.   

She acted as a role model for me without me even noticing for years.  It was not until I sat in that chair at the Ohio Theatre and listened to her speak that I realized what a profound effect she had on me starting at age ten.  Here I was a professional, charismatic, independent, passionate woman just like Ms. Moore.  I guess I made it after all….

Life is Crazy

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I have been walking around for the past few days a tad melancholy about life: what more can I do to help people in need, what more can I do to get the most out of life, what more can I do at work to make my career more productive?  Why is it that one moment I can feel so positive and ready to take on this world and five minutes later, I feel dejected and pessimistic and apathetic about it all? 

Crazy kids

I always remember a letter my dad wrote to me after I graduated high school.  It consisted of lots of good advise and wise words but what struck me to this day are three words: “Life is crazy.”  He went on to advise that you just have to laugh at all of the craziness and not let it weigh you down because after all, it’s crazy and what else can you do with crazy but roll with it and have a good time.  I pull those words out of my pocket almost every day, especially with M&M who always remind me that my life is crazy, unpredicatable, and sometimes maddening and “rolling with it” is a lot more fun than stressing about it.

And, I have finally come to the realization that it’s good to constantly question where you are and what you are doing in life – it allows for growth and wisdom.  However, I must admit that The Onion article nearly had me convinced to turn a blind eye to my life questions.  After reading it, I was ready to shove those hefty life questions off my shoulder and move onto bigger and better things like what I should wear tomorrow and what color I should dye my hair….!  One clip was particularly insightful:

“Based on the results of their study, researchers have urged individuals not to waste their time trying to find answers to why it’s all such a fucked-up charade, questioning whether it has some higher purpose, or attempting to devise some way to avoid it—such efforts being futile gestures that would only “play right into” the universe’s trap.

‘There appears to be no escaping the feelings of humiliation, emptiness, and despair this barbaric joke exacts on everyone,” said Nobel laureate and professor emeritus of psychology Daniel Kahneman. “However, trial studies show humankind is far better off when we push it all into the back of our heads, try not to think about it, and just trudge mindlessly toward death.'”

But after much thought, I decided to stick with my old man’s advice to roll with life and all of its punches because, after all, life is crazy and you might as well embrace it and have some fun.

Practicing gratitude

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I asked Maria and Mario what they were grateful for while we ate dinner tonight. 

Holding the baby chicks at the farm

Maria: eggs (she had just brought some back from Grandma Meg’s and Peepaw’s farm); little grapes (we had found “baby” sized grapes in the bunch of grapes earlier in the evening); and her grandmas (all three of them!).

Mario: for a wonderful night; mom and dad and Ria and Cy (“I miss him, mom”); my grandmas; and the farm. 

Mom: for the bike ride and for 62 degree weather and for our new home.

I try to ask this question every night in order to reinforce how important it is to recognize all the wonderful people and things around us.  As part of my training to be a culture shaping facilitator at the university, we performed an exercise around gratitude.  We were asked to think about how many times through the day we stressed about something or we wallowed in self-pity because we did not have something or we missed someone or we failed to get something done.  Then we were asked to think about all that we did have – be it a home, significant other, health, car to travel in, clothes, friends, etc.  Most of us realized that when all was said and done a great majority of our life was good.  We had a roof over our head, we were able to travel, we had family who loved us, we had a pet who licked us, we fed ourselves three meals a day (if not more); yet, we realized that we tended to focus  a significant amount of our time and energy on the negative things or people in our lives. 

Hence, the idea of practicing gratitude.  Ever since that training, I have consciously made an effort to push myself to be grateful, especially during the times I see myself heading downhill.  And I figure if I can start M&M praciticing it, they will be experts by age 10. 

And it’s not that hard.  Each day, I find myself tripping over a wealth of things and activities and people for which to be grateful.  Tonight, I was grateful for the chilly fall weather that allowed us to throw on our sweatshirts and bike helmets and take a ride to visit our friends.  I love watching M&M head out on their cycles, laughing and talking the entire way to the destination.  Maria sings songs to herself.  Mario points out each animal and flower he sees on the way.  I love seeing the grin on Maria’s face as she turns a corner all by herself and the excitement in Mario’s voice when he spots a squirrel behind a bush.  I try to allow myself to see the world anew like M&M.  When Mario points to the squirrel, I look at the little critter and wonder if he will find a nut, what tree he will choose to climb, how many brothers and sisters he has at home.  When Maria turns that corner, I remember back to riding my back with Beth Ann, my grade school friend, and how thrilling it was to speed up and down our alley. 

M&M keep me practicing gratitude.  It is hard not to practice it when I have them by my side.  Hopefully, our evening ritual will become embodied in them to where they hit the pillow at night and think about all they have to be grateful for in the day that is about to pass under them.  The stars, the night, a warm blanket, sweet dreams….

Just one of those nights…

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I love my children…

I love my children…

I love my children…

If I repeat this mantra one thousand times over, it will come true, right?! I had a rough night with the little buggers tonight.  It doesn’t help that I am exhausted between trying to sell our house, renovating the new one (why am I exhausted – Jon has been doing all of the labor!), and pouring over major projects at work.  

Mario's "mean" look

I came home to Mario watching tv and Jon in the shower and Maria over at her friend’s house.  Jon and I were both tired and Mario just wanted to fight and wrestle.  Every time that we tried to talk, Mario dove in between us wanting to play.  We scolded him.  We continued to talk.  He continued to try different ways to get us to wrestle.  We told him to stop.  He grabbed me around my neck and squeezed me.  I yelled at him.  Jon told him to stop, too.  We finally moved downstairs.  That was the start of the night. 

We ordered a pizza because it was definitely a pizza type of night.  Mario and I went to pick it up.  When we got there, I asked if he wanted to stay in the car or come in with me.  He wanted to stay in the car.  I asked again and got the same response.  I parked right in front of the door to the pizza joint, rolled down the windows a fourth of the way, and locked the doors.  As soon as I walked in the pizza shop and looked back through the window, I saw him standing up and crying.  I walked back out and he screamed and yelled and threw his fists.  “I wanted to come in, mom!”  I explained to him that he chose not to come in so it was too late.  He did not like that answer.  He got more mad and demanded we “do it over” so that he could go in with me.  We drove home together with him crying in the back seat and me ready to call it a night and hit the sack. 

When we got home, I got him out of the car and asked if he wanted to hold my hand to the house.  He refused.  As soon as I walked in the house, I heard sobs from outside.  “Mom, I wanted to hold your hand!”  I am proud of myself for keeping my cool when I felt like screaming “YOU ARE INSANE!” to him.  I calmly walked back outside and asked him if he wanted to “do it over.”  He did and we did it over and it was all better, somewhat.  At times, I think he may be dealing with OCD to some degree, and I can only hope it doesn’t get worse.  The question is: what should be my response when he acts this way?  Do I “do it over” in order to allow him to calm down and re-create the experience as he needs it to be or do I put my foot down and explain to him that I gave him a choice and he made his decision? I am in-between at this time.  If it is easy enough to “do over”, I do it over.  If not, I say forget it and try to explain to him the rationale as to why we aren’t doing it over. 

Doll baby girl

Maria had her issues, too, tonight.  I took her and her friend to the yogurt store tonight.  Her friend talked about eating McDonald’s for dinner.  Maria told her friend she didn’t really like McDonald’s but she ate it with her because she did not want to be rude.  Her friend told her that she did not have to worry about being rude – she needed to tell her if she did not like the food because her family does that.  Maria must have responded that she should not be friends with her then since her family is rude to each other and her friend got upset.  Maria can be a little bossy and domineering and I saw this come out in her tonight.  I scolded Maria about talking that way to her friend and she immediately went into the “you don’t love me mom” state.  I explained to her that she could not be so domineering with her friends and she explained to me that she felt weird around her friend and sometimes just didn’t want to be around her.  We decided maybe it was time to take a break from each other but that we did not need to tell that to her friend right at this time. 

When we got home, I felt spent.  Emotionally drained.  It is going to be so hard for me to see Maria go through her teenage years when I feel this concerned about a little tiff with her girlfriend.  I have got to learn to let it go more.  I want to be there for Maria and I want her to feel that she can talk to me but I can’t solve her every problem and shield her from life’s struggles (whether they be 6-year-old struggles or 30-year-old struggles) as much as I would like to do so.  Raising kids is a hard task at times – tonight, no doubt. 

Our two babes

I asked Maria to choose a book to read before bed and when I walked in her room, she sat there with the book Someday on her lap.  One of my favorite books to read to her.  It details a mother’s love for her daughter and shows the daughter with her daughter looking back at the times she had spent with her mother.  It is simply written and beautiful.  I used to read it to Maria when she was one and two years old, and I still remember one time I read it to her and started bawling.  She looked up at me and wiped away a tear coming down my cheek.  My doll baby.  I bawled even more when she did that and soon thereafter, she gave up with the wiping realizing that her mom was just an uncontrollable emotional freak at times.  And I remain as much five years later but at least I am an uncontrollable emotional freak that realizes her weaknesses and trigger points and tries to calm herself before adding to an already ridiculous situation.  If there is one important lesson these kiddies have taught me, it is that you must remain open to possibilities and new days and different modes of thinking.  They help me be an even better, more empathetic, more thoughtful, and less controlling person.  I gotta love ’em for that.

Peace and quiet by adding more kids to the house?

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Jon and I stood at the kitchen island on Friday night with those looks of dread that come over our faces when we know we have an entire weekend with the kids with nothing planned.  How sad, I know.  I am used to running down to Cincy or heading up to Marion or Dover or trucking it out to the farm.  But strapping into the car seats every weekend has to tire the kids out and it also takes a chunk of change out of my wallet with the price of gas these days.  What happened to the $1.49 gas prices from my childhood (or was it $1.99? Whatever it was, it was a world of difference compared to today.).  What is worse is that the weathermen had predicted rain for all of Saturday.  One of my worst nightmares is not being able to go outside all day. 

The threesome at the pool

Luckily, we had sporadic showers on Saturday but a decent amount of sun and almost a full day of sun today.  Saturday, Dad and Mario went on “boy errands” which ironically consisted of dropping clothes off at the dry cleaner.  This activity was tempered by a trip to Home Depot.  Maria and I stayed put around the house reading her school books and playing the ice cream game and Fancy Nancy Go Fish card game.  We ate popsicles.  When the boys arrived home, I bargained with Jon – if he let me go to Stauf’s for a couple of hours, I would take the kids to the indoor pool.  Deal. 

Every time I take the kids to the pool, I develop a huge headache from the pull of Maria and Mario throughout our entire time we are at the facility.  Mario wants me to watch him “swim” and go down the slide; Maria wants me to play beauty shop or hold her and go under the “waterfall.”  So, I had the bright idea this time around to invite a friend for Maria.  Genius – no headache and lots of fun for Maria.  We brought Maria’s friend, Anna, another boisterous and daring girl like Ri.  Mario likes Anna, too.  He always has something to tell her (“Anna, do you want to see my power ranger…” “Anna, I like your bathing suit…”). 

Maria and Anna playing catch (with Maria "catching" Anna the first round!

Maria and Anna played the entire two hours together – I was only needed to take them to the lazy river and the whirlpool, which I did twice until Mario turned blue from the cold water in that area.  He rightly refused to go back a third time.  Mario enjoyed Anna’s presence, too, because I got almost all of his attention (he just wanted to me to fight the fountains with him by using my hands as swords and cutting through the shooting water – I am convinced he can take any object and find a way to fight it). 

Mario and his fountain

Maria and Anna went over to their friend’s house, Zach, after swimming.  Zach’s mom (who I adore!) made them tacos and they played hide-n-seek.  Maria came home at 8 pm zonked.  Beautiful.  Anna came over again today and the girls played at the park and up in Maria’s room with her barbies for two hours.  Peace and quiet for Jon and I to finish seeding the lawn (Mario played an hour of Wii basketball). 

Maria has always wanted me to do everything with her.  If I have to run errands, she wants to come.  If I want to take a run, she wants to come.  If I am going out with friends, she wants to be there.  So this very recent phenomena of playing with friends and not being attached to my hip is strange yet oh, so wonderful.  She needs her distance from me, and it has been challenging for me to nudge her away because I feel like I should be with her every waking moment since I work 40 hours a week.  These friendships allow her to see life without me by her side assisting her, and allow her to learn that she can do things on her own and with friends.  It also pushes me to work harder to distance myself from her to allow her to learn and grow.  One regret I have as a parent is that I did (and still do) too much for the kids.  It doesn’t keep me up at night – in the end I know they will be fine and they will know that I love them to infinity and back – but it is something that I would re-think if I did it all again.  They now rely on me for everything (“Mom, will you get me some water…” “Mom, will you find me a shirt to wear?” Mom, will you sleep near me until I go to sleep….”).  And as many times as I try to not do these things, I always end up doing them.  It is a hard habit to break.  So, I am grateful to Maria’s little friends for helping to push her towards more freedom from her momma. 

My girl playing in the sand

That being said, I pray to a higher power that Maria does not cease looking to her momma for love and support and hugs and kisses.  I can’t imagine the day that she looks at me as I lean over to kiss her and snaps “Mom, please stop!”  Those kisses and hugs bring way too much joy to my life to end them already.  There are some days that I long to get home just to squeeze her and Mario in my arms and plant 100 kisses all over their soft baby skin.  The moral of the story is that sometimes adding to the clan can be better – adding Anna this weekend allowed me more time to myself and more time with Mario.  Of course, Mario only wants me around to have a basketball opponent.  I am sure in a couple of years, he will have his boy friends over just like Maria has her girlfriends over, and then I will be staring at the walls as I sit in my dining room wondering what the heck to do with all of the time.  Ahh, I am sure I will figure out something even if it is simply staring at the walls as I sit in my dining room….

The Turning Point

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My secluded pneumonia room

Since I have been sick, I have had every opportunity to watch movies, reality tv, soap operas….  Unfortunately, there is only one tv show that I like (30 Roc).  I typically love movies but I got sick at the worst time of year – when all of the new releases are horrible!  I get to pick from Adam Sandler’s Grown Ups, The Karate Kid, Back-Up Plan (another Jennifer Aniston movie), and Ramona and Beezus.  In bed all day and that is as good as it gets.  Luckily, we get 10 million other channels that I rarely ever review but in my state of desperation at 6 pm last night, I flipped through them and found the Turning Point with my favorite actress of all time, Shirley Maclaine.  If I could go to dinner with any actor or actress, I would choose her in a heartbeat (when my hubby was in California a few years back, he sat near her at a restaurant and got her autograph for me!). 

Shirley's autograph to me!

The Turning Point was a good film.  I loved the ballet scenes and who cannot drool when watching Mikhail Baryshnikov dance – pure beauty.  The last time I saw him dance was in the movie White Nights (great romantic movie).  Anne Bancroft acted well (keeping up with Shirley’s immense talents).  The film did an outstanding job of showing the strain and questioning  that arises when a woman is faced with a career or a family.  Shirley Maclaine acted fabulously in the role of an ex-dancer who chose to have a baby and ultimately give up dancing.  She continues to mull over her decision for the rest of her life.  Her rival, Anne Bancroft, chose to dance and ultimately give up the notion of a family and kids.  The movie shows us both perspectives, and ultimately, how there is no right answer in the end.  There is a bit of futility and wasted energy in second guessing it for the rest of your life although that does not mean that there won’t be those moments that strike right at your heart and make you long to be back in the moment again.  

Maria excited about ballet class!

Maria wanted to take ballet when she was three years old.  The teacher at the Rec Center was rather domineering and strict, especially for three-year olds.  Maria did not particularly take to that type of personality, and therefore, did not last more than a couple of sessions.  She did look daggone cute though…

New “Moan” ugh!

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I hate staying indoors, especially when it is sunny and 68 degrees outside in November.  I love taking a morning rum, especially when it is barely light and a chilly 40 degrees outside.  I hate coming home after a day at work and sitting in the house the rest of the evening.  I love taking a walk in the dusk of the evening when it is crisp and the air is invigorating.  That is why I was so bummed out after my hospital trip last week. 

Last Sunday night, the pain stabbed through my left chest and up through my left shoulder like it has in the past.  I took two Aleeve and went to bed.  I tossed and turned but slept decently through the night. On Monday, I ran and worked out in the morning and had a little bit of pain in my left shoulder through the day.  Slept fine on Monday night.  On Tuesday, I started to get the pain back so I took it easy and decided against a morning run.  Tuesday night I tossed and turned and felt a lot of pain in my left chest again.  I stayed up a good portion of the night.  Wednesday rolled around and I went to work with the continuous pain shooting through my left chest.  By the time I got home in the evening, I was not feeling well.  I started to have a shortness of breath and a headache.  Jon forced me to head to the Urgent Care, which was closed.  I travelled on to the ER. 

There I was amongst a lot of people complaining about how long they had been waiting for a doctor.  A woman in a wheelchair rolled up to me and gave me some advice “You are gonna be waiting here for hours – I have been out here for four.”  She rolled back to her group and began cursing about the length of time in the waiting room.  Turns out she was only 28 (looked 50) and she was a heavy drug user and smoker (at least that was what she was divulging to her group).  Luckily, I got in to see a doctor within an hour.  They hooked me up to an EKG immediately, which was normal.  They did chest x-rays and blood work, which were normal.  They were perplexed at how a non-smoker, runner, healthy woman could have such severe chest pain.  The doctor decided to keep me overnight in order to have me do a stress test in the morning. 

I was in such pain through the night.  Morphine did nothing.  It was one of the scariest times in my life because I could not breathe in without excruciating pain.  My breathing was so shallow because if I breathed any heavier, I felt like a knife was stabbing me in my left chest.  Because I could only breathe in a little bit, I got anxious that I would not be able to breathe at all if I laid down and fell asleep.  Therefore, I did not sleep all night.  I stared at the tv, the door, the machines and wondered if I would make it.  Yeah, your mind works in crazy ways at 3 am in a hospital bed.  Morning arrived and the new doctor was skeptical of a stress test.  First, I probably could not perform it because I could not breathe in enough to stress my heart.  Second, he saw nothing abnormal in all of the x-rays and tests so he did not think it was a heart problem.  He ordered a CAT Scan for me.  I had never had one of those before.  Not pleasant.  When the nurse shot die through my veins, I immediately thought I would throw up metal and swore I had gone to the bathroom on the machine.  What a horrid feeling!  Luckily, they were all just sensations from the dye.  An hour later, the doctor walked in and informed me that I had pneumonia.  It had showed up on the CAT Scan test. 

Maria showing me the words she learned from her "word ring"

Jon picked me up with Maria in the back seat holding a picture of me when I was ten.  She loves this picture of me with my super balls (little round rubber balls that they used to sell at the grocery store for 10 cents).  She wanted to know how I was feeling and if I would be ok.  She led me upstairs when we got home and put me in bed.  She proceeded to bring me two flowers from the yard in a small vase and a bag with her and I drawn on it.  She showed me the words that she had learned while I was gone.  She is so good to me – a natural caretaker. 

For the first two nights, I was miserable.  The pain killers could not relieve the pain in my chest, and I sat up most of the night looking out the window thinking of my grandma.  I just visited my grandma a few weeks ago when she had pneumonia (could I have gotten it from her?) and she told me that she had such trouble breathing because of all the phlegm in her nose and lungs that she just stayed up all night worried that she would lose her breath.  I remember thinking that she had to be scared.  Now, I experienced first-hand what she felt.  And, I can attest to the fact that I have known all along – you can never truly know what another individual feels in a situation until you are in it yourself. 

Maria and Mario enjoying some sofa time

Jon was a doll trying to calm me down but nothing helped.  The kids loved life because Jon and I were too tired to do much but let them watch tv!

Finally, on Saturday night, I slept for a few hours soundly.   I woke up Sunday feeling a little better.  Jon took the kiddies all day so I could rest.  He picked them up from Grandma Meg’s and Peepaw’s house where they had played on Saturday and spent the night on Saturday night.  Maria got in a three-hour hike with Peepaw and Mario (Mario, being the youngest, gets Peepaw’s shoulders).  She walked the entire way.  There is something about the farm that brings out the hiker in her because when she is in Columbus or Cincy it is all stroller for her!  Mario wore his Spiderman costume the entire time, which gave the grandparents a chuckle.  Jon picked them up and carted them to Uncle Mario’s and Aunt Vicki’s house for a day of four-wheelin’ and spaghetti and meatballs.  Maria’s dream come true. 

Maria getting ready to four-wheel with her dad

They spotted bucks and cows.  They petted kittens and saw the dogs.  Maria got her toenails painted in Buckeye colors by Bianca.  Mario got to wrestle Big Mario.  Jon got to ride his four-wheeler around the farm.  A good day. 

Mario refusing to pose for a picture at Big Mario's

I sat in bed, laid on the couch, watched Sex and the City 2 and the Turning Point.  Thought about cooking dinners and reading more books.  Came up with new games and activities for the kids.  Went stir-crazy eventually.

I rejoiced in seeing the kids and Jon at 8:30 pm.  I made the mistake of walking out to say hi and the chest began pounding again.  Mario sat on the couch and told me about the bucks.  Maria sat at her desk and did her homework.  She is getting so good at spelling her words and figuring out what words begin with a certain letter.  She had the letter “f” tonight and was able to spell out “friends” and “fish” and “frame” with my help.  The smartest kid ever!

The two munchballs doing their love pose for mom!

I helped Jon put them to bed, and promised I would read Maria 20 books tomorrow night since we did not read any tonight.  I love that she wants to read with me!  And I promised Mario that he would wake up with Superhero powers if he slept under his Spiderman cover all night.  Within 10 minutes of coming downstairs, Jon and I heard the pitter patter of toddler feet running through the hall – he must be confident that he has all the powers he needs.