We lost Michael... again.

For those who've read this blog for the last couple of years, may recall the time I lost Michael at a busy city park during the middle of a birthday party.  That event was traumatic enough that I still, to this day, remind the boys about staying close, the dangers of strangers and what to do if something terrible would ever happen.

Fast forward to today.  As a normal Thursday afternoon, I loaded up Belle in her riding car and headed for the bus stop to greet the boys.  Now that we are a few weeks into school, I've become more lackadaisical in my pick-up routine, I wait until the very last minute to leave the house as I walk to the stop and wait in the peak heat of the day for the bus to arrive.  Thankfully we have two wonderful families on our block that also have children that go to the same school,  ride the bus and get off at the same stop.  So the waiting part isn't bad, when you can catch up on all the news of the day from the other moms. 

As the bus rounded the corner, I saw Gabriel sitting in the front row of the bus right across from the driver.  The bus came to a stop and the doors opened gradually.  And while it seemed like it was going to be another normal after school, I quickly learned it wasn't so.  As fast as he could jump out of the bus Gabriel did.  "MOM- MICHAEL'S NOT ON THE BUS!!!!"  Followed by four more comments from the neighbor kids about Michael's absence.  At first I thought Gabriel was joking.  I said, "Gabriel is he hiding?"  You know Michael is the prankster of our family.  And when Gabriel's serious as all seriousness face responded NO, I immediately knew he was telling the truth.  By now the kids had all departed the bus and as the driver was getting ready to shut the doors.   I quickly went up to ask for clarification.  I guess, I assumed (that is where I went wrong) that if you tell the school your kids will be riding the bus on x days, that they will be on the bus when you expect them to be.  I said, "Mr. Matt is my son Michael on the bus?"  To which he replied," I don't think so, I'll walk the bus to see though".  Within a minute he came back to the front of the bus and said, "I"m sorry he's not."  Trying to keep myself calm, while my mind started racing, I asked him what I should do.  He said to call the school. 

As I tried to remain calm, my mind was off, replaying every possible place Michael could be.  Of course every lost or kidnapped child case that has been in the news in the last year, raced through my mind.  Where could he be?  How could he not get on the bus?  He wouldn't have just walked away from the school.  And while I knew he had to be somewhere back at school, I tried my best to not think of the worse case scenarios.

I dialed the school.  Thankfully the secretary picked up on the second ring.  I explained, "Hi my name is Angie and my son Michael was suppose to ride the bus home from school today.  I'm at the bus stop with my other son but Michael is not here."  Sensing the urgency and concern in my voice, the nice woman at the other end of the phone politely said, "I will contact Michael's teacher right away, hold one moment please."  And within one minute she was back on the phone.  She said, "We believe Michael went to Kid's Club (the after school program).  Ms. T is on her way to check and the other teachers are walking the school to make sure he isn't around the campus.  I will call you back immediately as soon as we find him.

I hung up.  And while it didn't alleviate the racing of my mind, it did reassure me he had to still be there.  I called Jarrett and explained the situation.  He said, just go to the school, I"m sure he's there, he probably forgot he didn't go to the after school program today. Before even hanging up the phone with Jarrett, I was buckling Isabelle in her car seat and telling Gabriel to climb in.  As I set my phone down to clasp the two buckles together, my phone rang.   It was the school.

On our way to the school, I asked Gabriel why he didn't say anything to the bus driver or any other adult when he didn't see Michael waiting to go home on the bus with him.  He said, "Mom, I thought someone took him."  And then I said, Gabriel that is even more of a reason to say something to an adult.  Please promise me that if you ever get to the bus stop and Michael isn't there, that you tell a teacher or ask an adult at the school to help you find your brother.  "Okay," he responded, "Mom- should we put up missing signs like people do when they lose their dog or cat.  I smiled, (always trying to help that boy), thinking let's hope we NEVER have to do that.  I think he could sense how worried I was.  I said, No Gabriel, Michael has to be at the school  We are going there right now." 

Seeing that it was the school calling me, I immediately picked up.  The kind receptionist  without even introducing herself said, "I'm looking at Michael right now and he is sitting here with his teacher waiting for you to come pick him up.  He was at Kid's Club, he forgot today was a day to ride the bus."  I'm on my way, I replied and in less than 3 minutes I pulled into the parking lot.

As I entered the lobby doors, there sat a smiley and happy-go-lucky Michael, without a worry or concern in the world.  He smiled and said, "Look Mom, I have a loose tooth!"  Obviously he didn't realize that my heart had been in the bottom of my stomach for the last 20 minutes.  He teacher apologized profusely and said how sorry she was that Michael went to the wrong location after school got out.  Although I know it wasn't  her fault, I did appreciate her jumping into help.   As Isabelle made loud noises and fought me to get down to run, I shared with Michael, his teacher and the other crew of staff who all joined in on the search, how scared I was, that we didn't know where he was.  After thanking the teachers and staff for helping, we all piled into the car and I called Dad to share the crisis has been adverted.

And while the thoughts of how lucky we were today continue to come to mind, I can't help but relate to what parents of missing children must go through.  I only felt for a few minutes the panic, the helplessness and the fear that those families must live with every hour, every minute and every second of every day their loved one is not with them.  My heart goes out to all those families.  What a horrible thing for any one to go through. 

I'm counting my blessings again tonight and I've made a vow to myself that every single day as I drop the kids off at school, I will remind Michael where he should go at the end of the day. While I can't promise he will remember, I tell myself it can't hurt.  I hope we never have an after school adventure like the one we had today.

Until next time,
Angie

Belle's balloon....

Isabelle loves balloons.  I think it all started with her fascination of Winnie the Pooh's  balloon in the movie we watch over and over and over.

 

And so while we were in Iowa, one afternoon we spent at my Grandpa's house, Isabelle was thrilled to see that he had a balloon.   And while the life of her little balloon was short, it entertained her and kept her wildly excited about playing with it for the whole 15 minutes it had life.

 

I share now, the life of the little orange balloon...

 

 

 

 

 

 

Until next time,

angie

This is how we roll...

In the last few days before school started, the kids were desperate to get out of the house.  The summer has been long hot and mom was tired of the chaos of the inside fighting noise.  So on the last few mornings of freedom, aka summer break, I braved the extreme heat and took the kids to the park to play.

Although we only lasted an hour and a half (only because Jack and Mom couldn't handle the heat anymore), it was a nice break from the stircraziness, that comes with living in the desert in the summer.

Here's a quick shot of how we roll.. summer sweating style.

Its a little bright out here mom, just a tad bright.

 

I like to call these following shots...

 

Monkey see, Monday do....

 

Three little monkeys...

 Playing at the park...

 While Jack and Mom sweat, they just had fun.

Until next time,
Angie

Swiming beauty...

Flashback Friday....

 

Last summer Isabelle had 5 swimming suits.  Yes 5 swimming suits.  I guess one for every month old she was.  They were all so precious that I couldn't help but put her in each one and place her bathtub outside next to the pool so she could "go swimming" 

 

One of the swim suits was so darling I dressed her up and created my own mini-photo shoot.  In some ways it reminded me of when I was a little girl and played with my babies, dressing them in a new outfit every 10 minutes. 

 

Here's a few of the photos from last summer when we had Belle all dressed up.  Doesn't she look like she should be a baby synchronized swimmer?

 

 

Man, she makes my heart explode with love every time I see her.  You know how they say a mom thinks her children are the best and the most beautiful.  Before becoming a mom I wondered if that was really true.  There are some really beautiful children and super amazing kids out there.. But I've found out what "they" say is right....  I love Gabriel, Michael and Isabelle more than I ever imagined one could love.  And even though they were born from another mother, I firmly believe God's master plan was that we were created for each other.

 

Until next time,

Angie

Tie Die...

When we were in Iowa, I shared how we celebrated Christmas in July.  We ended up going to Valley fair as a family.  My sister Megan had the idea that it might be fun (and easier to keep track of everyone) if we all wore tie die shirts.  So one afternoon we each picked out our shirts, decided what colors we wanted them to look like and then we created our own masterpiece.  They turned out great!   

Here we are just beginning the tie die process...  To capture every moment, of course I had my camera and started snapped away.  I told the ladies to smile and this is what I got... I also told them these photos would end up online.  I wonder if next time they'll turn around. :-)

Isabelle's favorite part was stirring up the liquid color. It was kind of scary knowing what could happen when the bucket was spilled, so we stayed pretty close.

Meanwhile, my dad supervised and Aaron gave orders ahem, directions.

Mixing the concoction

While also mixing in a little whisker love.



Spraying off the excess die on our finished product.

We were all pretty excited to see what the finished product looked like.  Being that it was our first time tie dying shirts and all. 

 

We were so happy with how great the shirts turned out, in fact that the way they originally looked will be forever only in our memory.  See, in trying to follow the directions, we some how made a mis-step and ended up having all the shirts blend together.  The end result, see below.  Although some suggested we look like a Barney the Dinosaur fan club, it was still fun and Meg's idea worked.  It was a lot easier to find everyone in our group

 

Oh and other fun aspect of having the shirts together, we got lots of questions from others at the park why were all dressed like that.

 

Until next time,

Angie

In times of sadness...

In the last 24 hours, I’ve heard more sad news than I’d care to hear in a lifetime.

 Yesterday I learned a vibrant, loving, caring mom, (actually only a couple years younger than my mom), who was battling against that terrible C word, lost her fight way before her time. 

A few hours later, I learned a young couple in one of the most joyous times of their life, lost their baby.  With his tiny precious footprints and a caption that read, our baby became an angel today, my heart sank as I tried to fight back tears.

And then today I casually asked a co-worker, how the  first two weeks of school were going.”  My colleague and I share a similar life of baseball practices, activities galore and the love of two adopted boys, who forever stole our heart.  She has shared with me before about how successful her oldest son has been.  At 14 he’s a wildly talented baseball player, a member of the high school marching band and the honor society.  We talk about introducing our Gabriel to him as they share a love of baseball, adoption and being the oldest child.   I think he’d be a great role model for our son.   And so as we passed in the hall today and I asked the innocent school question she looked at me, tried to smile and say, “everything is great.”  Except as she tried to say those simple words, she couldn’t hide the truth.  She stopped, looked down at the floor, said “things are fine” and looked up at me with tears rolling down her face.  I reached out to put my arm on her arm and  she whispered, “actually things aren’t fine, my son has surgery on Friday,  they found a tumor in his brain.”

In the flash of a moment, I felt her pain.  I lived it once with my husband, and I felt complete sympathy.  Because as much as I know how painful it is to hear your spouse has cancer, I cannot imagine what it feels like to be told your child has cancer.  I could see the pain in her heart, feel the sorrow in her deepest insides and the fear of what was to come.  We talked for a few moments, and although I tried my best to be reassuring, to praise the wonderful medical team they have found and to focus on the positive (isn’t that what we as people do?), I knew she was holding it all together with barely a thread. 

 Sometimes life is hard.  Actually, even when all is going well and you think you’ve got life by the tail on a downward pull (that’s a quote made famous by my grandpa Ray), life is always hard.  Sometimes life is too hard.  For those families going through such challenging, sad and sorrow filled days, I can’t help but feel their grief, their worry, their complete sadness. 

 And while today I have so many happy things to share about how great school is going, how happy I am that the flu residing in our house seems to be packing its bags and how excited I am to share a weekend away with my husband, today I’ll refrain for shouting from the rooftops about how happy I am.  Because while we are celebrating so many are hurting, and today, it just feels okay to sympathize, to reflect and to send prayers of support.

Until next time,

Angie

We've come a long way baby..

Ten years ago at this very hour, I was getting ready to walk down the aisle and marry my best friend.  It was a day I had dreamed about and looked forward to for many many years.  The day was of course planned down to the minute (which my family wouldn't have expected anything less) but also full of special aspects important to Jarrett and I, lots of love and of course fun.  We woke up early and the girls went to the salon to get the beauty pampering started.  With mimosas, laughs and girly chit chat, we progressed to the church and started with pictures.  Everyone looked so nice and then the time came for Jarrett and I to see each other.  The final minutes we shared before the service began, confirmed for us more than ever, that we were put on this earth to be each others soul mates.  As the ceremony began, I remember the beautiful music, the packed church and the man of my dreams waiting for me at the end of the satin lined aisle.  The service meaningful and what I remember most from what the pastor shared, is that if we always remember to put each other and their needs first, our marriage will always be strong. As the church bells rang, and we were first announced as the new Mr. and Mrs. I couldn't remember a time I was more happy.  Following the service, we went to my grandparents home for pictures around their beautiful lake and onto the reception hall, where the real party started.  We enjoyed the company of so many wonderful friends and family and partied until the very end of the night.  As we walked out with the other late-stayers, Jarrett and I rode home on our shuttle beaming from ear to ear.  It was everything and more we hoped our wedding day would be.  

Fast forward until today, 10 years later, at this very hour, I just finished putting the 4th load of laundry away, made lunch, cleaned up dishes, gave the ill baby more medicine, shredded junk mail and walked into the laundry room to attempt to clean the washing machine.  Looking at the insides of a diaper caked on every aspect of the washer bin and the floor sprinkled with that liquid-absorbing miracle gu, I decided it can wait and I'd much rather come here. To say today is a bit different than 10 years ago would be a huge understatement.  I'm dressed in my old paint shorts, stained t-shirt with my hair slicked back in a pony tail, barely awake and probably already smell of BO (even though I did shower today). 

It could be the fact that last night was a very short night, about 3 hours of sleep kind-of-night.  When a fever-sicken Isabelle woke up just as I was crawling into bed, I had a feeling and it wasn't a good one.  It seems to always happen when Dad's out of town, (what a great way to spend an anniversary right) or maybe its just that misery loves company, and being the only adult around when all hells breaking loose, isn't that much fun. 

 I should have known that last night's lack of sleep was sure to have consequences for me today.  Hence me accidentally washing Isabelle's diaper along with her bed sheets and just like that country song, "Mr. Mom"  , pulling her sheets out to put in the dryer, I learned Pampers don't do well in a Maytag washer either.  Wearing my "General hat", this morning was spent racing around giving orders to get ready for school, tie your shoes, brush your teeth, don't forget your homework folder, jump in the car, you're going to be late for school.  After getting everyone piled in and car-seat fastened, I started the car to hear all bells and whistles shouting at me... not one, not two, not even three alarms but four.  All four tires on the car are low, too low to drive.  In my mind, I tell myself to save that problem for dad and give the next commanding order to get into the other car.  Ten minutes later, everyone re-fastened in and after a quick emergency back to the garage to retrieve the forgotten backpack in the other car, we were off to school.  I decided to stop over at my parents house to check on things and upon pulling in their driveway, I see the little rain we've gotten has caused the weeds to sprout up and, well, grow like weeds.  Deciding I should probably just take the time to pull them, I left the car running (because it was already over 90 at 7:15 am), opened Isabelle's car door, as she was still fastened in but could watch me pull weeds.  She didn't find it amusing.  So while she screamed to get out, Jack barked (oh I decided he might like a ride so I took him along too) because Isabelle was screaming, I pulled weeds and pretended all the neighbors going to work weren't staring at me.  Just as I was getting ready to wrap things up and go back to running other errands, I went into the house to check on things.  Opening the door, I knew there was a problem.  The thermostat read 98.  As things happen yearly it seems in AZ, the air conditioner was broke.  I knew then my great plans to get the house work done, laundry complete, house dusted and floors washed were out the window.  Four hours later, the air working again, I left to go home.  Meanwhile Isabelle's fever had spiked again and me not being prepared, left her medicine at home.  Sitting in a house that is 98 with a little one whose fever is 103, not the most ideal.  Hence my disclaimer about probably smelling like BO.

Finally leaving my parents house, on my drive home trying to figure out what to make for lunch, it dawned on me.  Today's our anniversary.  Ten years today.  Knowing Jarrett was busy in a deposition, I got home, texted him a warm anniversary message along with a quick summary of a discussion I got to have this morning between giving orders.  Michael and Gabriel are asking questions.  You know, one of those "boy" questions better left for a dad to answer.  I said,

Happy Anniversary Dad,  Hope your day is great.  BTW...I think you should have a talk with the boys about what happens as they get older.  They are starting to ask me questions about why certain things stand up.  Enjoy your day!  Love ya! 

Isn't that romantic?  Okay I'm joking, but if nothing else, I know it would make Jarrett smile, and these days, we enjoy the simple things.

 

Thinking about our anniversary today and the fact that we won't  get to spend it together does make me a bit sad.  However as I think back to everything we've shared in the past 10 years, I realize there is so much to be thankful for.  And as I look at our crazy, chaotic and hectic life, it is all I've ever wanted and more.  So it isn't the most glorious job and isn't always fun.  To be honest, sometimes, some days it isn't any fun at all.  But that's all part of it.  The short nights, the messy house, the always arriving 5 minutes late to everything, the time outs, the frustration and even the feeling of being overwhelmed.  Doesn't it sound glorious?  When at the end of the day, I collapse into the milk stained chair, pull out the toy that was stuffed down in the side of the arm, stare up at the ceiling fan that's been begging to be dusted for months, and look at the TV with a small tiny hand print right in the middle of the screen, I'm thankful.

 

I'm thankful that I have the best partner to share this crazy life of ours with.  He gets me in ways no one else does.  He knows without me even having to say a word, that mom's reached her limit and quietly gathers the kids, offering to take them for a few minutes so I can go do something else and he does exactly what the pastor told us to do 10 years ago today.  He thinks of and puts me first.  Letting me work part-time was a huge sacrifice for our family and I know it added a significant amount of stress onto his shoulders.  From the moment I expressed concern that I couldn't keep going the way things were when we were both working full time, he immediately said let's find you something else and we'll find a way to make it work.   

 

I realize the past ten years have had their ups and downs and in that time we've grown, we've learned a lot and we've had a lot of fun along the way.  I also think we've learned how to love better, what to just let go of and how to make this team work.  As we think about what the next 10 years hold, I'm sure there will some of the same ups and downs, but I can't think of anyone else I'd rather spend them with.  We've come a long way baby and we've got a long way yet to go.

 

Until next time, I'm off to scrub yogurt off the ceiling, the wall and the blinds (someone decided to shake their yogurt up and down, while mom had her back turned).  Oh and then I'll tackle the diaper-strewn washing machine.

 

Happy anniversary Dad! I love you!

angie