This Old House

I'm mad. Really mad. Hot under the collar, steam coming out of my ears mad. It's not a matter of who, but what. Yes I am mad at my 112 year old house. Yep, you heard me right, 112 and yes, I am mad at my house. When we were house hunting 5 years ago, I was as big as a house pregnant, and Seth wanted to get a house. It was right before the housing bubble burst, so everything was pretty much out of our league. The only houses we qualified for were either in really bad sections of town and had no garage. One we qualified for that was really great, until we found that the insides of it had been infested with termites. I was quite content staying in our apartment of many years, in fact I didn't want to leave. Elijah had passed away only one year before and I wanted to be where he was. Seth on the other hand, wanted to get out, he really wanted a garage where he could work on his projects. Not only that, but we always had to rely on our neighbors being careful. Only after 3 months of marriage our 1st apartment complex burned down due to someone cooking bacon at 2 in the morning. If it weren't for Seth working 2nd shift, people probably would have died. He got everyone up and moving out of our building as he heard the crackling of a fire. No thanks to the dude who started the whole thing, who decided to go outside and watch the place burn down and not wake anyone else up... Grrrrrr.... Long story. Yep, if you can't tell, I'm in a mood. Back to the house hunt. So we found this place, it had a garage, it had a back yard, good neighborhood, and it wasn't infested with termites. After the relater tried to convince us not to even bother as it was way out of our price range (funny how things change) our bid was accepted. We moved in and were excited, yes even with the carpeting in the bathroom and the kitchen. This is where I learned that old saying "Jack of all trades and master of none." Need I say more? Yes, the house has great potential. When we "got the lead out" we were able to get new siding so that it no longer looked like the haunted house on the block "as our neighbor's nephew said. Then we finally pulled out the carpeting and replace it with a floating floor. Thankfully Isaiah's sinuses have gotten a much needed break. It's a work in progress, which wouldn't be so bad if we could get a line of credit (which no longer exist thanks to the economy) to add on another bathroom and some closets. Yep, we bought a house with ONE, count it people, ONE bathroom that you can literally go to the bathroom while shaving your legs and wash your hands all at the same time, no joke. We've even accidentally have knocked each other in the toilet as the door opens right into the toilet that is inches behind. (SIGH for dramatic affect). Oh yeah, and you want a real laugh. Our refrigerator that is out in the mud room because there is no room in the kitchen! Seriously, I have had to laugh sometimes, because if I don't I will cry. The hardest part is with the economy, the house value has dropped significantly. Oh yeah and our neighbor next door decided to take a loss on the house because she didn't want to take care of it anymore. What does that spell out? Even more a dwindled house value since we are next to a foreclosure. Argh!! What brought this all on you ask? The crack. The crack in the wall from the ice that dumped into the roof that turned to water that dumped in the wall and it cracked!!!! Now it is cracked and there isn't anything we can do at this point. It's bad enough that when we are taking a shower that the hot spigot spits scalding hot water out, while the cold spigot spits out ice cold water and the surrounding wall looks like that of something you'd find in a condemned building. There are so many other things, but those are just the major ones! Am I throwing a temper tantrum, you bet your bippy, I am! I ended up getting really sick yesterday, so I have been trying to clean everything up and I guess I just needed to snap. It seems no matter how much I clean it doesn't look any better. Aria just gets into anything sitting out as we don't have much storage places and it drives me nuts! I have been praying a long time for G-d to help me be content and grateful, but today I lost it! I know we are blessed to have a home, but sometimes it seems it is one thing after another. Not to mention having every financial piece of advice saying to save, Save, SAVE! How do you save when your savings goes to repairing the house or whatever else breaks??! Plus it is pretty embarrassing inviting people over. I am having a bad day. I will get over it. I feel a little bit better. It just goes to show we all have our moments and I am having mine right now. I do not want pity, but I hope this makes someone else smile or laugh. That's right, go ahead and laugh, someone needs to! Stupid house (grumble grumble....)

Esther

Bubbe with Elijah, she loved sitting with him
Bubbe and Seth, she adored him, as did he
Blowing kisses to the camera, she was so cute!

Playing dress up with the kids!



As many of you already know, on St. Patrick's Day, my Grandmother Esther (or Bubbe as we called her) passed away. I have written about her in the past, but words are hard to put to someone who is so loving. Growing up, we moved a lot. The constant thing in our life was their home. Good ole North 90th in Milwaukee, WI. Any vacation we had, we went and visited our grandparents. When we lived in South Dakota, it was a 15 hour drive. In Iowa, about a 6 hour drive. In Michigan, a 5 hour drive. Our favorite was when we lived in a town in Wisconsin, and then it was only a 3 hour drive. We were so elated to live close by for those few years. We drove in rain storms, droughts, and even snow storms all the while eagerly anticipating being with my Grand parents. My Grandma was the picture of love. She always had a huge smile on her face and would have her arms wide open to smother you in hugs, all the the while stroking your face and telling you how much she loved you. She would truthfully want to know your every thought and listened better than any therapist you have ever met (let's face it, we all need one at some point in our lives;)) She was a night owl, just like me. She rarely forced me to go to bed on time, as a matter of fact, she loved sitting up with me. We'd snack on pickles, Challah, popcorn, or whatever, it didn't matter as long as we were hunkered down for the night. We'd watch The Golden Girls, Empty Nest, or Cheers, while my Grandpa would walk into the room and bat his arms while saying "this is garbage!" Only to sit down and watch a few minutes later. Of course while watching TV, I'd pour out my heart and soul as she'd listen. She always took careful consideration on how to respond (obviously the woman was full of wisdom) and would try to get me to see how the other person might have felt to respond in such a way. Sometimes it was irritating, but yet she was so stinkin' wise that you couldn't disagree. She was always up for a get together, especially over food (she, ladies and gentleman, is where I became a foodie!). She'd savor each thing with such joy and of course would eat slower than a turtle. Anyone who knew her, knew any meal would take hours. I am telling you people, I am not exaggerating, hours! It must be where Isaiah gets it from. I used to find it irritating as a kid, as I just wanted to go out and play, but I never wanted to disappoint her, so I sat, a lot. What I wouldn't give for one more long meal. My Grandmother was Jewish, and kept Kosher. To this day I love, Lox and Bagels, Kishka, Potato Kugel, Matzah sandwiches, pickles and olives, sweet gefilte fish, oh how the list goes on. I would beg her for lox as soon as I walked in the door, and she would just beam. She loved taking to us "get a bite to eat" or mini golfing (or as we called it Putt Putt), she even rode with us in the go carts! I remember her taking me to see movies, oh how she sat through some of the dumbest movies, just for us. They didn't have a lot of money, but what they did have that was more precious, was their love and their time. As all of her family knows, she almost always had a phone attached to her face. Mainly talking to her sister Shirley. What they talked about, I have no idea? She'd stay up late in her kitchen yapping away. The kitchen would fill of the scent of Comet cleaner as she cleaned that sink with such precision a surgery could have taken place. We'd beg her to hurry up to come and sit with us as we loved playing games or figuring out what we'd do for the next day. So she'd be late, she was always late. It drove me and my Grandfather nuts. He'd ask me all the time as we sat in the car waiting for her "Why is she always late?!" I am the type of person who needs to be early or else I get anxious. I think it started when I was young because I was the new kid a lot. I hated walking into the room and having everyone stare at me, still to this day, I'd rather be one of the first ones there. Not Grandma, she was late to everything, even Grandpa's funeral. We found ourselves thinking of what Grandpa would have said. I loved her. Thank goodness the Lord made her so cute, because some how, she got away with it. Even though she was Jewish, I must say, she lived like Jesus taught us to live. She bore fruit, as a matter of fact, her tree would have been weighed down with fruit. When you look at the fruit's of the spirit, I can't find one thing she didn't have in abundance. You know that irritating Proverbs 31, you know? The one of the perfect woman none of us could live up to? Well, they read it at her funeral. I didn't hear that it was that particular one, but when they read it, I was thinking, how on earth did they describe her so well? Then they said Proverbs 31 and my jaw dropped. We buried her on Sunday in one of the worst storms I have ever stood in. The rain was huge, hard, and cold. She didn't like water, so it was hard for us. All of us huddled under this tent that was dumping water every where as we hovered over the elderly to keep them from getting sick. The whole thing was surreal. She wasn't there sitting beside me asking what the Cantor was saying, instead she was being buried. My Mom, who was her best friend, who lived and breathed for her was so upset. Because of my kids dying, I knew there was nothing I could say or do, but just be there. I can't bring her back. They couldn't finish the service there because the weather was so horrendous. We ended up going back to her Sister's Jewish living center to finish the service. The Cantor had gotten stuck in the mud over at the cemetery, so we had to wait. The thing I love about Judaism is you are allowed to grieve. You don't make small talk about your life, you talk about the deceased. So everyone gathered with stories and tears and really honored Grandma. So begins the process of sitting Shiva. You typically cover your mirrors so that you aren't concerned with your appearance and for 7 days you gather with friends and family, who take care of the mourners. I love that, they take care of you. You talk about your loved one who has just departed and so much more, to honor the life that G-d blessed you with. There is such deep respect and that is such a comfort. There is more to it than that, but that's another story. After we ate, the service began. Grandma would have been so pleased. We had our coffee or tea by our hands, just like she loved. I had forgotten that Purim had just started. It is one of the happiest days of the Jewish year. It celebrates Queen Esther, which of course was my Grandmother's name. I just tearfully smiled to think, she was buried on the happiest day of the year, a party, she loved a party. It was so fitting, as I saw G-d's fingerprints everywhere. I got to be able to read some memories, which when I said them out loud, I felt child like. I felt like that 8 year old sobbing for Grandma as we drove away. My whole body started to shake as I couldn't believe she was really gone. Growing up we moved so much, her and Grandpa had made me feel like I was extra special, pimples and all. She made everyone feel like a King or a Queen, so important. I have never met anyone like her and here she was all these years, my Grandma. She was my confidant while I was growing up. I am so glad she moved to MI the last years of her life, because I finally had her close by. She was there when Isaiah and Aria were born, with that gorgeous smile of hers. She went to their birthday parties with such glee. The last one was with Aria, when we had that tea party. What a gift of joy she was. I am a Christian, but I still believe that the Jewish people are the Chosen people. G-d honors his promises and he made a covenant with His people. She kept His laws and I believe she is in Heaven. He loves his dear sweet Esther Lee Rubin Werba. A woman who had been through so much. Her Grandparents and much of her family killed in the holocaust, lived through the segregation of Jews when no one would hire her father. She lost her daughter (my Aunt, who was in her early 40's) and her husband died 9 years and 1 day before she went. She cried when Aurora died and looked at her pictures over and over again. With Elijah, she came to hospital and held him as he gazed at her with sheer comfort. Even after he died, she mourned deeply with us and let me talk about him as much as I wanted. She watched all of his videos (hours and hours) of a little baby just sitting there, and she loved it. She even poured over each picture asking me each moment that had happened. She made them count, and that was worth more than gold to us. Amidst all the sorrow, she still went on and showed others compassion, love, and she did it with sheer joy. Anyone who has met her knows what a spirit she had. I thought she had longer to live. She didn't want to die, she wanted to live and that is what makes it so hard. We were honest with the kids and Isaiah says "I am sad, but she is happy in her new body." She was the best. I have always heard the question, who do you want to be like? Someone famous? Smart? Beautiful? I want to be just like my Grandmother. She did what Jesus asked us to do, she loved G-d with all of her heart, she loved her neighbor as herself, she loved life. It's selfish of me as I can't help but wonder what we'll do without her. She was an example to me all along. She cried with me while I grieved, she rejoiced with me when I was happy, she grew frustrated when I was upset, she was my Grandma and I am so blessed to have had her in my life. So we praise our Dear Father for giving us the gift of time as she now dances with my Grandfather in Heaven as my kids pull at her dress. We will miss her, because she was worth it.

The Challenge

So I joined in on one of the craziest things I think I have ever accepted to do. It's called the 24 day Challenge. I had no idea what I was getting into, because to say the very least, it's been a challenge. I ended up hearing about it from a friend of mine. Her approach is using this to break a bondage with the addiction of food. Now, if you are anything like me, you may think food being addiction? Yeah, I know it sounds crazy, but apparently it is, at least for me. In my family, we are emotional eaters. We eat when we are happy, sad, mad, frustrated, bored, well you get the picture. Yep, I am a foodie. I could care less about a fancy house/car, diamonds, furs, nope, I'd rather have me a yummylicious dinner. Seth learned a long time ago, to pull me out of a funk all he had to do was open a thing of cheese and ooh la la, my spirits would immediately lift. Nothing wrong with that, right? Yeah that is until the day you go to put your pants on and you hear them "ggggggggggaaaaa" when you try to get into them. As I looked in the mirror I heard my pants say "I am going to squeeze the life out of you, until you take me off!" Hmmm, let's see, now what to do? I can't go walking around like a kielbasa waiting for my pants to explode in public. So I prayed. I have tried several "diets," but they left me hungry. A hungry Kelly, is a dangerous Kelly. So I moved over to exercise. Yes, it was good at first, that is until I realized after I was done working out, I'd reward myself. Normally there is nothing wrong with rewarding yourself, but there is when you eat five times the amount of calories that you worked out. Exercise+lots of buttery foods do not = my pants fitting better. What's a girl to do? I ended up running into a girl from my bible study. She started to talk about the challenge and how it changed her life. She explained all she had battled and how food really ran her life. She explained her approach wasn't for people to lose weight, but to break the bondage of food. It made sense, but I had never really thought of food as an addiction, just a comfort. Hmmmm, this got my mind thinking. Of course I was interested, but really felt that I couldn't do it alone. I prayed about it and then put the idea on the shelf. Then a friend approached me and asked me what I thought. We went on to discuss it and well, we decided we'd do it together. I decided not to look up the info. as I knew I'd analyze it to death and I decided to take the plunge. Leading up to it, I was amped. Then it happened, the day of reckoning. We sat down and all the info. was passed out. No salt, no sugar, no carbs, and well, you get the picture. Panic set into my body and I froze. What did I get myself into? In my mind I was thinking, run!!! Then something came over me that said, it's just food, it's not that big of a deal. So onwards I went. I think you can see where this is going. I am on day 8 of my cleanse and I would like to tell you that is it easy, that I feel great, but it hasn't been that way. I must say, you are never hungry. You eat every 3 hours, but it's food that is all natural. It's bland and has no pizazz! I live for piazazzy food. The first 6 days I wanted to hold up a restaurant, not for the money, but for the food! Crispy, cheesy, buttery goodness! That's all I wanted. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and it made me an emotional wreck. With each day that passed I'd get life changing news, my best friend is in the process of finding out if she has MS, my grandmother going into the ICU, my son having the stomach flu (so I had to miss a wedding for a cousin that I absolutely adore who came in from Tennessee and never got to see her or the other family), Aria and her crazy blood cells, etc.... With each thing, I found myself running to the kitchen and then catching myself standing in there getting more and more frustrated. It was weird, I wasn't hungry, but I knew some salty goodness would calm my nerves. I found myself huffing my kids mac and cheese, grilled cheese, like it was my last meal! All the while telling Seth "I'm going to do it!! I'm going to eat it, here it goes!" Like some crazy woman, Seth would just carefully approach me and say "you know you don't want to eat that, you know you aren't going to eat it." It was like a stand off. I threw the spoon down and fell into a heap on the couch. But, I didn't eat it. I had no idea that food had become my drug. My buttery, cheesy, drug. I feel a bit tired, and I easily lose concentration. My emotions are easily stirred, but I have stuck to it. I ended up going to bible study, so happy to have something to get my mind of all the hullabaloo, when I lost it. One of the girl's was talking about Heaven and it took me places I hadn't expected to go. I am not one to easily cry, but somehow it snuck up on me. I felt a tear and then more. My mind started to think about this and that and before I knew it I started to lose it. I tried to get to the bathroom and cry it out so I didn't do it in front of anybody, but once I started it just wouldn't stop. Anyways, I lost it. I was so embarrassed, I wanted to run. One of the sweet ladies prayed over me as I began to look like Alice Cooper. I was so overwhelmed. I am realizing that instead of going to G-d first when I am stressed, I go to food. It really has been my crutch and I never really noticed. Seth said later that even though I am eating, it's kind of like a fast. He reminded me that people learn a lot about themselves with things like this. I just hope I remember what I have learned as my memory seems to have disappeared. I have the attention span of a gnat, but at least I am not thinking about stealing children's crunchy snacks from them anymore, or thinking people look like my favorite dishes. You never realize how much food is being pushed until something like a diet change. Meijer's has fried chicken smells piped through their store, the mall has all the restaurant's, Target has popcorn, uhhhh. On top of that I have a super sniffer. I have a severe hearing loss, so my sense's with my nose are heightened. The crazy thing is that we have to eat to survive, so now the thing will be to learn how to eat without overdoing it. I realize now how valuable our food is, how blessed we are to have food on the table every night when so many go without. It's made me take a look at so many things in a new way. I don't plan on eating like this forever, but I am realizing I need a healthier approach to meals and I have menu's made up in my mind of how to eat better when this is through. Now if I could just stop being so darn emotional, that would be great. I never realized my emotions tied so deeply into food and how I handle stress. Bursting into tears in front of a fried chicken restaurant might not look so sane, so I am praying I am going to come out of this a new woman. Please forgive me if I run into you and maybe don't remember things or people or my children, like I said my thought process isn't really there. By the grace of G-d, one day at a time, one day at a time.

Confessions

I'll just do a quick recap of what is going on and then get to it. Aria has been running a weird 99.5 low grade fever since December. It went away for a short time but then returned. With a doctor's request, we went and got her blood drawn. At first we got an all clear and then about 2 weeks later, I guess the doctor looked at it again (or forgot, I don't know) and saw they were abnormally shaped. I was a little bit worried, but decided it wasn't that big of a deal. Seth actually was the one that insisted we get it done. So last Friday we went again. Aria freaked as soon as she figured where we were and was in foul mood for the rest of the day. I felt so guilty for putting her through it, as I already had it made up in my mind, it was unnecessary. Aria has been falling repeatedly, sometimes for no reason. She'll be standing in one place and unexpectedly fall. We checked her ears (we have an otoscope) and they look clear. Due to all of the falling, she has been bruising quite easily. I am anemic, no matter how many iron supplements or iron rich food I eat, I am always anemic. My OB had me taking so much iron to get ready for my c-sections (since you lose so much blood) and threatened not delivering until it was high enough. I took all the supplements and I was STILL low. I think he came to the conclusion, it's just how I am. Well, now Isaiah and Aria are on the high side of anemia (thanks to their supplements) so it's just the way we are wired. I ended up forgetting about the results as I was distracted with other things. When on Monday night we got the call. We spoke with nurse who relayed the info. about consulting a specialist as they had never seen results like this before. Yay. I don't know what it is about us, but we seem to have these "rare, weird, and fluke" things happen, and well it annoys me. We know it is her red cells and thankfully not the white. I didn't know much and tried not to get on the internet as it tends to freak me out, and why go there if you don't have to. They were considering sickle cell anemia, but this rarely affects white people. They did rule this out last night. As soon as I spoke with the nurse and the tone in her voice my body went weak. My thoughts were going all over the place and I had no rationality what so ever. My mountain top attitude when straight to the miry clay and I cried. Here I was so proud of myself for not jumping to conclusions and making a huge deal and the one time I didn't prepare myself and BAM! I immediately thought, if G-d chastens those that He loves, He must really love me, but in a sarcastic tone. In haste I quickly posted prayer requests. I figured I couldn't pray, so I would have others do it for me. My mind went blank and then to all the worst possibilities. I immediately started thinking "G-d what didn't I do or learn with Eli and Rory that I need to go through something like this again? Two times wasn't enough? Am I that dense?" I called some people I trusted and was even asked "do you trust G-d." My response was "Yes, but you have to understand, I trusted G-d with Aurora and Eli and they still died." I know they were trying to help me and I love them so much for it, in fact it challenged me to think differently. I remember even up to the moment that Aurora died in my arms, I kept on thinking He will save her. Those around us probably couldn't figure out why I was so devastated when she died. In their minds, I should have known. But I didn't, I secretly believed He'd save her. Even when she was moving in my belly while we were planning her funeral, in the back of my mind it was "just in case." I think as humans, when you have never been in a particular situation it is easy rationalize what you'd do. Let me tell you, know matter how prepared you think are, you never are. The other thing I have been doing is trying to change my ways of thinking. I wanted to wallow in self pity, but instead quickly turned on praise music and tried breath prayers as it was all I could come up with. They felt hollow, like they were bouncing off the walls. I felt so alone. My friends said words of comfort and my parents, mother in law and sister in law called to talk with us and let us vent. They were all so sweet and it made me feel better. Because of my experience, I know many people whose children have passed away or are fighting serious illnesses. It seems every day I get an email or a call about another child, and to pray for them. We Mom's who have been in these situations or are, cling to others to help, especially with prayer. I realized how important it is in my life and so I always ask others to pray. You see I struggle. With Eli about a month before he passed, I noticed him screaming more often. We thought it was the drug withdrawals and were told babies don't have that (it is now proven they do). The amount of powerful drugs that Eli was on when he was in the PICU, they said it would have taken an adult 6 months on methadone to fully withdraw. For Eli, they had him on it for one week. I can only imagine the hell he went through and it makes me sick. Accompanied with that, he was probably being overlapped with the E. Coli taking over his body. I was told repeatedly, he is teething and that I was over reacting. I was even told by one nurse, he was spoiled! How can a 6 1/2 month old be spoiled when just getting out of the PICU after every doctor said he'd never make it, on dialysis, go through withdrawal and be spoiled! She then said he was a brat. I wanted to go crazy on her, but instead I completely shut down. I started to convince myself I had no motherly instinct (even thought each time he was sick I had proven myself right) and that I was a terrible mother. I even believed that maybe G-d had taken them to be with Him because I was such an awful mother. I know now those are lies, but is scarred me so badly. After we had Isaiah and he would get sick, I was on high alert. Each sniffle, I thought was going to result in his death. I know now from other parents who have faced similar situations, they reacted this way too. Your rose colored classes have come off and you know things you shouldn't and the evil one preys on that. I don't know if this is all in my head but I am confessing out loud to find out if this is a lie or not. Sometimes I FEEL that because we went through what we went through, that we may be perceived as over reacting or dramatic. Maybe this is a lie from the enemy and if I am wrong, please feel free to tell me so (it'd make me feel better). The response that hits me to the core "it always seems like something with you guys." I know they probably don't mean it in a condemning way, in fact, they are right, it does seem like it. But it hurts my feelings, it makes me feel like I am looking for something to be wrong, like I want the attention. Do I like attention? Yes. I like attention for noticing a new hair style, or that I lost some weight, or my new shirt looks terrific, but not for my kid being sick. In fact, it's the last thing I want to bring up because it stirs up all these feelings inside of me. If you have ever been a person that said this to me, know that I still love you. I am incredibly sensitive and I am just needing to vocalize this to get it off my chest so satan can't have a hay day with me. You are probably wondering where I am going with all this, but here it is. The doctor called us back. They still don't know why her red blood cells look the way they do. They are baffled, but don't appear to be terribly alarmed (YES!). Some of them are shaped like tear drops, crescents and a couple of other shapes. I asked them if they could be from a virus or something simple like that, and they said it could be that. They didn't give us much info. and it was frustrating and yet relief at the same time. I am satisfied with keeping tabs on her and having some more follow up work, but leaving it alone, Seth, on the other hand wants to check more into it. I know, it's that shocking? It isn't me pursuing it! Since I believe in being honest, I wanted to share a fear with you, and by bringing it out into the open, I believe satan won't be able to mess with me any further. The reason I told you all those things is this. I was so happy to feel that Aria is probably fine, but immediately was worried that people would think I did this all for attention. The reason I am sharing this, is that I believe G-d is placing it on my heart to confess this. I am not really sure why. I want to glorify Him any chance I can and if it means I look ridiculous, oh well. I was listening to Joyce Meyer (love her!)yesterday on her wisdom series. One of the things she said is that when you follow G-d that may mean you might look crazy, it might mean you may lose the respect of others, or that people might not even want to associate with you any longer, but does that matter as long as you follow what you believe G-d is telling you to do. I believe for me, that I have always seen Christians, as these always upbeat, perfect people. That if you aren't then you must be bad. That is why I assumed that something was wrong with me, I feel everything so deeply. Then G-d reminded me of Lamentations and the Psalms. I feel that G-d is having me show others you love G-d and still struggle, question, and even get angry or sad. In fact, that me sharing my struggles, might help someone else see, she loves G-d and she too struggles. One day I am on top of the mountain, while in the next I can be sucking pond scum, either way, I still love Him. I have to tell you something crazy that happened. On Tuesday morning while waiting for the results, I was in a foul mood. Isaiah and Aria were bickering and really Aria was causing just as much of it as was Isaiah. Since I was so worried about Aria, Isaiah was getting the brunt of it. I was storming around and grumbling when I snapped at Isaiah about something. He looked up at me with his eyes magnified (due to his thick perscription) with boldness in his voice, he pointed at me and said "When the devil touches you, he touches me and THAT makes me sad!" I have never said anything like that to him before. Out of the mouths of babes. I felt G-d speaking loud and clear. I froze. I didn't know how to respond. I got him ready for school and told him Mommy was having a bad day. He then said, he too was having a bad day. I got him on the bus and spoke with a great friend who set me straight. After that I wanted to call him up at school and apologize. I felt horrible. As soon as he came home off the bus, I knelt down and grabbed his face. He looked worried. I then told him how sorry I was and asked him to forgive me. I expected him to hold a grudge, as sometimes he does. Instead his face lit up like Heaven was shining down on him and he wrapped his arms around me and said "oh yes, I forgive you Mommy!" I felt like I had won a million dollars! I feel so blessed, because in this short time of turmoil I saw G-d work through all of those around us. He has brought so many wonderful people into our lives. I have some really great friends, both old and new that I just love. Seth has these great group of guys from his retreat that he really respects. Our families love and support us through all our craziness. G-d has humbled me once again. I am in awe of all that He does. I can't pretend to understand it, but I am learning to take each day and enjoy the little blessings you tend to ignore. Like for me, the whiny 2 1/2 year old who just wants my attention. Some day I'll be the last thing on her mind, so for now I am going to rejoice in her whineyness and Isaiah's endless questions and just enjoy it. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? So enjoy today. Feel free to give me your feedback on this and I pray I haven't offended anyone in any way, know that I love you, and I too, am a lovely mess!