Joy in a Flat Tire

Today I went to the gym on my lunch break and when I was leaving, I got in the car and started to drive when something started beeping at me. My front right tire pressure was low. So I parked, got out and looked at it and sure enough, there was a big fat nail stuck all the way into the tread.
I knew exactly where it came from. The spa company behind my office building had a wooden spa out back that was being repaired this morning. I had to drive right next to it to get into the parking lot.

 

As I looked at my deflated tire, I couldn’t help thinking, “Why me?”
I just got this car and already ran over a freaking nail??
Why do all of our expenses hit at once?

Why today when I have so much to do?

I called my BFF from work and she saved the day and swung by and picked me up on her way back from lunch.
I got back to the office and called my husband and we each made a few phone calls.
A company was going to come out to change the flat for me so I had another friend from work take me back to the gym. I called my husband and he was going to meet me back at the office to take the car to get the flat either repaired or get a new tire.

 

My super cute donut


After the 10 minutes it took for the guy to change to my spare, I drove back to work.
As I finished my work for the day, my thoughts changed.
“Why not me?”
I was able to easily get rides to do what I needed to do.
My boss was understanding and let me get everything taken care of.
The flat change service was covered by our warranty.
The tire, which could not be repaired, was also covered by our warranty.
My husband was also able to leave work so he could sit at the dealership getting a new tire put on the car.
My mother-in-law picked the kids up from school for us.
So yeah, why not me?

If that had been someone else who I work with, or a struggling Nursing student who attends the school I work at, maybe they wouldn’t have been so fortunate.
Maybe they would have had to pay for a tire. Maybe they wouldn’t have had anyone to share the burden with. Or anyone to help them get where they needed to go.

So I am thankful for that stupid freaking nail!
I’m thankful that it was me and not someone else.
And I’m thankful for all the ways that I am blessed even in the midst of a less than ideal situation.

 

I'm lovin it.

Last summer, Sean and I looked at each other and said "You know, Brylee is such a great kid. Having two kids would be easy, don't you think?"
Cue laughter.

I am forever thankful that Brylee can understand what I mean when I ask her to grab something for me and that she is old enough to know the difference between a burp cloth, a bib and a receiving blanket. I shed tears of joy when I am feeding Chase and she goes to the bathroom and can wipe herself. It is so nice that I can ask her what he is doing in the backseat and have her keep his babo (what Brylee dubbed the pacifier) in his mouth while I'm driving. Those things are great aspects of having two, and having them 3 1/2 years apart.

Cut to Friday morning, two weeks ago. A friend is coming over to visit. She calls and suggests that we meet somewhere that the kids can run around. Sounds great to me! I'm just hoping that she doesn't suggest anywhere outside, since my hormones are still wacko and I am not a pretty sweat-er. (I know the hyphen doesn't need to go there but it looked weird when I typed 'pretty sweater') Um, anyways. She says "Hey, how about McDonald's?" Perfect. "How's 11?" Works for us.
We start making a move for the door at 10:40. McDonald's is less than 5 minutes away but I'm no dummy. If we leave with just enough time, Chase will inevitably spit up all over the place or blow out his diaper.
We are in the car by 10:42. On the way to McD's, Brylee says "Mommy, he's blowing out his diaper!" (See, told ya). We get there and I check but he hadn't blown out his diaper. I called my friend to let her know we were there, and partly to verify that I was at the right McDonald's. They're about 5 minutes away. I hang up and then I hear it. The blowout. This time Brylee says, "See, I told ya."
We get up, and head in to the bathroom.
All diaper changing stations are inconveniently located. This one happens to be in a handicap stall, and there is no hangy thing for your purse/diaper bag.
I put the carseat and my diaper bag on the floor. 
I pull the changing pad out of the diaper bag and spread it on top of the changing station.
I grab the wipes case and a diaper.
I take Chase out of the carseat. There is indeed poop all up in it.
I lay Chase down on the changing table.
Brylee grabs his head.
"Brylee, please stop touching him right now."
Brylee grabs his arm and pulls.
"Brylee, seriously."
I manage to remove the full-of-poop onesie, only smearing poop up to his shoulders and barely getting any in his hair. And a smidgen on his forehead.
I first address the poop on the child.
Then I wipe the poop from the changing pad.
Then I wipe the poop that got back on the child before I wiped it off the changing pad off the child.
Then I wipe the changing pad once more, making sure all poop particles are gone.
I am holding the child as I do this.
Child spits up, ALL down my back and the side of my arm.
I acknowledge the older one, who is laying on the floor. OF THE BATHROOM.
"Get up. Get up, get up now. That's disgusting. We do not lay down on the floor of the bathroom."
She decides the best way to get up is to hold on to the toilet seat.
I gag.
Her foot slips somehow and her face touches the toilet seat.
I almost puke all over Chase.  I guess then we would be even.
Someone walks into the bathroom and goes into the stall right next to us.
"Ok, do NOT touch anything. AT ALL. Nothing. For real."
I'm freaking out. The woman next to us giggles.
I get a clean onesie on Chase.
I bend down to grab a little bag to tie up the diaper and turn around to see Brylee starting to pull the changing pad off the table.
"OH MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!??"
I jump to grab Chase and keep him from falling headfirst off the table.
"Well I needed to kiss him but I couldn't reach him." (Seriously??)
I pick him up and open the stall door.
He pukes on the front of my shirt.
Friend walks in the bathroom, smiling.
"Do you need help with anything?"
Me, also smiling, "That would just be super."
She takes Brylee, and then takes Chase from me.
"You've got a little..." as she points to the spit up on my shirt and exits the bathroom.
I finish cleaning up, put everything away, wash his carseat out, wash my shirt out and join my friend in the play area.
I realized that Brylee still had God knows how many germs all over her and I smeared hand sanitizer over her whole body, making sure to avoid contact with her eyes. Barely.
My friend and I enjoyed the next almost 2 hours, talking and hanging out while the kids ran off some steam, and I was still happy that I went, despite the bathroom debacle.

Later, as I recapped the story for Sean, we realized that while life with two kids is anything but easy, it's definitely more entertaining. In a make-you-cry-and-hyperventilate-in-public-bathrooms-and-then-laugh-about-it-later kind of way.

Truth be told

As I sat in our little "nook" in the NICU, holding my baby boy and staring into his face, I asked God if he would take him from me.  God's response was that he would protect my children. 

The next day, I was getting ready to leave the NICU to go home and shower and I heard a voice tell me that I needed to stop and kiss my baby once more because I might not get to again. I was terrified. Of course I went back for a kiss, and I believed this voice. And that day, every time I looked at my son, I kept hearing that voice, offering different reasons why I should not believe that I would have much longer to hold my baby.

That night, in my room, I prayed and asked God why he would tell me one thing and then another.  And he told me that he had not. He had only told me that he would protect my children. The other voice was not his.

How easily I had let the enemy in. How easily I had let him steal my joy. The joy of looking at my son and praising God for this child! It made me sick to think of how I believed one lie from the enemy and continued to believe each lie I was told after that. I asked God how this could happen. How I could trust "truth" from anyone but him. Well, truth becomes what we let in to our lives. If I am spending time in the word, and reading THE truth, then I will guard myself against lies. But if I am spending more time reading, watching and listening to things that are not of God, then that will become what my heart recognizes to be the truth.

Recently my scales have shifted and somewhere along the line I stopped listening to k-love (the pledge drive annoyed me and I discovered another station that I liked), and finished my devotional without finding a new one, and allowed my prayer journals to be replaced with a journal for my daughter, and spent time reading things that were entertaining (or spending hours on facebook or pinterest) instead of my reading bible... and gradually I put God aside so much that I forgot what his voice sounds like.

After this realization, I stumbled across so much that shows me that I am not alone in this. In one of the blogs that I follow, the woman is joining a community of people who are participating in a devotional to rid themselves of toxic thoughts. And I have seen several people posting blogs on facebook about '50 Shades of Grey' and the danger of letting yourself get caught up in this type of "entertaintment". Blurring the lines of boundaries is on a lot of minds these days, and it is for this very reason that God warned us to guard our hearts (Proverbs 4:23) ...for from it flows the springs of life.  

I will choose truth. I will choose joy. I will also choose Hunger Games, Vampire Diaries, and Bruno Mars...but I will choose my relationship with God before those things, and not allow them to consume me to the point of not having time for God.