life as i knew it yesterday.

man. holy crap. yesterday was a bad one, to put it mildly.

so have you ever wondered what a full-blown panic attack feels like? well, i'll tell you.

ever been tied to railroad tracks only to realize a train is speeding towards you, with no signs of stopping?

or...

ridden on an especially turbulent flight?

here's a good one...

how about when you were in third grade and cheated on that test. 'member when the teacher's aide knocked on the door of your classroom, shot you a sorrowful look, then handed Mrs. McCracken a note? and the way your palms (and entire body, for that matter) went from sweating to freezing to sweating again in the span of about 3.4 seconds? 'member the interminable trek to the principal's office and the inexorable feeling of impending doom that weighed down your little self as you trudged slowly but surely toward the man who held your very fate in his hands?

it's sorta like that, only about 5 million times worse.

oh, and add to that the very certainty that at any moment, you will not only become unconscious, but never wake up.

pretty dreadful.

i'm not sure yet why this is the soundtrack of my life right now, but one thing is clear - someone's out to get me, and they're not nice - oh, far from it. see, as sure as i am about the existence of God and that he is made of Love and Forgiveness and Honesty and Passion and Grace, i also subscribe to the somewhat unpopular belief that the devil is alive and real and not a whimsical scarlet creature who makes random appearances on the shoulder of sitcom characters for comedic purposes only.

i can't give any other explanation for why such an experience would exist - one which is capable of utterly convincing a human being that they will surely pass into another world if they allow themselves to, well, pass out.

i'm sure there are many other opinions and you're entitled to any one of them. i can certainly attest to the fact that panic attacks are not only psychological but also very physiological experiences and have been widely studied, verified, etc. scientifically speaking. yeah, i get that. i also get that these days, for some reason, there's a dude out there (in here) who is hell-bent on taking me down, blurring my focus, sealing my lens with the black cap of hopelessness....

and it's rough going when you can't see very well. forget the bruises from knocking around in the dark....it's really more the frustration of not being able to find that sliver of light, that long vertical crack that gives you a goal to move for, gives you the motivation, the mobility necessary to get yourself out of that room full of, well, crap.

you've seen glimpses into my other days (and if you haven't, feel free to scroll down). it's not like this 24/7. thank God, quite literally. and it is therapeutic (for me, if not for you - sorry!) to account for the journey in this way...i am thankful for that, for the ability and willingness i've been graced with to put my experiences into words on a screen, therefore minimally exorcising them from my head.

so i feel a little lighter, now. and two little bundles wake up from dozing soon, which is a source of great HOPE and love and joy for me. so i suppose i am To Be Continued. very likely, knowing my oppositional nature, my next offering for you will contain some sort of photo involving crossed eyes, pudgy toes or the beauty of kelly green grass after rain. let's hope...

saturday antics (girls only)

here's how our weekend is shaping up so far....




-An Unabashedly Childlike Woman

the youngest two of "and co."

A picture...

is worth....

....all the ridiculous dancing, hand gestures, and idiotic facial expressions it took to get there.

-A Chagrined (did I mean to say Changed?) Woman

moms are so great because....

***** disclaimer: this is about to get pretty sappy. turn away now if you abhor all things cheesy. you've officially been warned. *****

moms are so great because....

- whenever they come over to baby-sit, they somehow find 12 minutes or so to wash all of your dishes. even when some of them look like this:

-if you ever (not that i ever would) happen to make a teensy, tiny, complaint involving your husband and the un-taken-out trash, they don't hold it against you. or him. forever at least.

-when you call them over at 3 AM for an emergency trip to the hospital (read: false labor) only to return a couple of hours later with half an ambien, they don't complain even though they may not even get back to sleep at all for the night.

-when you are going through The Worst Situation in your life, they don't fix it. they let God.

-they let you pay them back for a loan at the ridiculous rate of $5 a month.

-they teach your kid hymns like "trust and obey" and "holy, holy, holy". even if you hated singing them as a kid....and now have them repeated daily by your toddler....in a few octaves above the highest octave known to man.

-they are safe.

-they are patient.

-they discourage your gossiping.

-they make the best meatloaf ever and give you the recipe.

-they didn't give up on you even when your words to them were far less than kind.

-they didn't give up on you even when you failed miserably at college, thus wasting a sizable chunk of their money.

-they didn't give up on you.

-while puttering around the house cleaning things, or whipping up a batch of brownies, or waking up at 5 AM every day for quiet time w/ God, or not letting you get away with saying that a-word, or arguing behind closed doors, or spending SO MUCH TIME not getting divorced....they taught you a few little things about how to be a mom to your own children.

-Changed Woman

orange for stellan

so.......this baby whose heart i can't get off of my brain....i've got the whole family in on praying for him. i think i'm so touched partly b/c he is just about the same age as our baby r. and, well, i've just got this weird sympathy for strangers thing going on.

either way.

today was stellan's risky surgery - a heart ablation on an infant. i just found out about an hour ago that he made it through (whew!) but not sure on other details just yet.

to catch up on stellan's story: http://www.mycharmingkids.net/

p.s. why the orange theme? his "mckmama" asked that anyone praying for/thinking of stellan today e-mail her pictures of themselves incorporating orange. i think maybe just 'cuz stellan looks good in it ;-).

-Changed Woman

two for the price of one

i just could not resist sharing this bit before my ADD-riddled mind loses it somewhere, forever, in the abyss of, well, every wayward runaway tangent of thought that couldn't possibly hang out for just one more second in my already crowded brain.

*sigh*!

so, parent-teacher conferences were this past week for miss e's pre-school. parent-teacher conferences. hee hee. i'm a parent. and i get to go. and i'm not the one getting all the "could use improvement" or "enormous potential but needs to focus better"s. ah. i knew i'd be on the other side one day.

at this point it's really mostly fun and games (isn't that what being 3 1/2 is all about?) but miss e's teachers definitely do take their roles seriously and i give them credit not only for their commitment to {keep these kids alive} i mean manage to teach life and social skills and rudimentary academic studies to a small army of tasmanian devils but to do it all while ACTING LIKE THEY ARE HAVING FUN. wow. that's an accomplishment. personally, what i give them kudos for (and miss e's two lovely lady teachers in particular, miss b and miss t) is the one on one attention e gets while she is there, as evidenced in a handwritten note i was given during my aforementioned conference. i will likely end the post with it, as i think it just so adequately and somewhat concisely encompasses the whimsical nature freedom of speech can take on when related between two toddlers, in a playhouse.

child: "you need plates for the food."
e: "yeah, for the party."
child: "OK. here's some hot dogs."
e: "here's Scooby Doo. he's wonderful."
child: "yeah, we already have a cat."

Say wha?

-Changed Woman

A little light-hearted fare after yesterday's Five Course Meal

oh, you know i could not resist the proverbial infant tub shot, could i??

at least he's semi-decent.

hope you're all having a relaxing evening. mine will most likely involve Chocolate in some fashion, catching up on american idol and the office, and washing baby bottles. husband's will include assimilating a long-coveted star wars lego set.

*sigh*

spring cleaning?

sometimes i wonder why i feel things so much.

like when i was spanked as a toddler at a church picnic and sobbed and wailed and (obviously) never forgot it-

or how angry i was that one time on vacation when a nearby diner was rude to my waiter that i felt compelled to point out to said diner that, in fact, they WERE quite rude and really should not have done that. before you go feeling bad for the waiter for really ruining his chances of a tip, i left a twenty on the table when we left, just in case, and also just 'cause i felt bad for him-

also the catch, ache, as if there's an actual fault line that is splitting in the middle of my heart, when my husband's kindness and true love is actually admitted, for an illuminating second, into my Guarded Self. it's an actual physical experience, and i don't remember ever not experiencing it, although i do know that it originated from pain. (sometimes i think that word should almost be under the category of onomotapeia. can't explain it. i just do.).

here's a quote that i've loved for years, might explain it more eloquently and succinctly.

"The hearts of small children are delicate organs. A cruel beginning in this world can twist them into curious shapes. The heart of a hurt child can shrink so that forever afterward it is hard and pitted as the seed of a peach. Or, again, the heart of such a child may fester and swell until it is misery to carry within the body, easily chafed and hurt by the most ordinary things."

-- Carson Smith McCullers

this week i began a journey into the life of Ashley Rhodes-Courter, a fellow adoptee, through the chapters of her book, "Three Little Words".

**can i interject myself? well, i am. and i am interjecting to give a warning: what you are about to read may not be all smiles and cookies and friends and whimsical anecdotes. 'cause well, that's not all my life is about, and it's not all that i experience, or have experienced. just to clarify. we may be digging a little deeper today. ok!**

so anyway this book has hit me hard and i suppose the most obvious reason for that is my common denominator with Ashley of adoption. since this wet, heavy, wool blanket (read: depression) entered my life almost half a year ago, i've taken it upon myself to wipe some very secure (and comfortable, i might add) cobwebs from the corners and corridors in my brain and, well, try to breathe through it. breathe through what? you're confused. many people my age (27, almost 28, oh well) have no trouble - moreover, delight in conjuring up their most memorable moments from childhood. My husband's fondest is of trying to drown his little baby brother with a can of 7-up. (the writer in me wanted to list a few of the cliche stories parents tell over and over but n's own original is so good i think it stands well on its own). ha. see but i am someone who has a few childhood stories to relate which are far from "cliche" and hang out more in the Sordid, Inappropriate, Jail-Worthy category.

**interjection #2: i know i could just go buy a $5 Hello Kitty diary at Wal-mart to get this stuff out. i'm aware. but i type much more quickly than i write by hand, and plus, i may be getting to something a bit more sunshine-y or at the very least "cloudy with a slight chance of rain". which is much better, than, say, a tornado, which happens to be my third greatest fear in life.

so to quickly synopsize the first five years of my life: drunk/high mom. drunk/high dad. brawls in and out of trailer. children's services saves the day (or, as some, myself included, might interpret it - Jesus) and shuttles my blond pigtails and saucer-sized brown eyes over to the set of foster parents who (unbeknownst to all three of us at the time) would eventually be my forever family, plus one brother who was born soon after my adoption at the age of five. does that about cover it? well, i kinda was hoping so, for quite awhile....sorta missed the irony when i began repeating my mother's mistakes after hitting the big 21....then miss e., babe #1 came along, and i sobered up almost in an instant. focusing on raising her while working full-time was a great time-spender and i happily busied every last little wrinkle in my head with details, friends, baby, boyfriend turned husband, quitting smoking, cooking/baking, social networking, working out, coffee-making, UNTIL baby #2 - mr. r. - came along and

i

crashed.

(that whole depression thing)

that was five months ago. so here i am today. like i said, cobweb dusting - which, as my mother can tell you, i'm terrible at even in the literal sense.

i had a conversation yesterday with the very dear, down to earth, just plain cool mom of the teenage baby-sitter who watches Rory for me some mornings (incidentally, said teenager is just as cool and i consider her a friend and feel lucky to know her). i had stopped in with hot coffee from the 'bux and was talking to Miss K about this book, this "Three Little Words" book that she had lent me, and telling her how i had been affected by it (read: bawled for an hour straight the night before at 10:30 PM), and her mom happened in on our conversation, and i'm SO glad she did because i truly believe that her next words were meant for me.

she said, "you know, awhile back i struggled with something, and i've found it's so interesting; almost imperative to go back to your childhood to get to where it all started and figure it out," (she paused then, being the outwardly seemingly naturally optimistic - and not annoyingly so - lady that she is, and not wanting to suggest we go muddling around in mucky memories forever) "but what i've found, that's really cool that you can do, is kind of get yourself back to that place, and get Jesus to meet you there, and help heal the broken parts, and" (well, she said more, but personally for me i'm not even CLOSE to the "moving on" part so my subconscious just sort of said, 'thank you, that's more than enough for now, we'll work on that 'til next session'.

but i can't shake the thought - the possibility - the exquisite notion that i - or any of us, because i do know that i'm far from the only one - could hold out a grown-up hand, mine a bit more wrinkled and dry for the wear of espresso machines and hand-washing dishes, and watch the lines fade, the fingers transform back to kool-aid stained pudgy members, and ask my daddy between heaving sobs for a band-aid.

so - a heavenly band-aid. that's my new mission. might be more apropos on my heart rather than my hand. i've embraced this song this week that speaks volumes to where i'm at these days. maybe where you're at too? ya might not be there today, but you could be next week, or next year, or in five. might wanna bookmark it.

(i'd even suggest that you start the song, then minimize the screen or even turn away from the computer to fully capture the beauty and simplicity of the melody and lyrics)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e_4g8_e16dc&feature=PlayList&p=B96A76E5288AF79E&playnext=1&playnext_from=PL&index=46

-Changed Woman

Who loves Rory? I do! I do!

Daddy LOVES Rory.

Mommy likes to think she loves him the MOST.

But the other day it became clear who the kid's biggest fan is.....

*sigh*

-A Changed Woman

the news from my kitchen.

so, it's been how long? a week? normally at this point i would have given up this whole project, thinking it a waste since i've not been completely conscientious at keeping up with my posting, but, in an effort to turn over a new leaf, i shall write, tonight.

perhaps it is time to share some pictures from my kitchen. my favorite confectionary accomplishment as of late has been the chocolate sandwich recipe i referenced the other day. i hurriedly whipped up a batch for a picnic with some fellow mama friends and i apologize to them because that first attempt was not up to my perfectionist standards. i overbaked them. *grrr*. well, i had never made chocolate cookies before....kinda tough to tell when they're done considering that whole "lightly browned" factor sorta goes out the window. second time around, i was a bit more cautious, and consequently much more happy with the end result. wanna try 'em yourself? they're beyond easy.

step one: mix 2 boxes of devil's food cake mix, 2/3 cup vegetable oil, and four eggs. roll into 1 inch balls.

step two: bake at 350 degrees for 8-10 min. 9 min. 27 seconds if you've got a very old, pretty crappy gas stove.

step three: combine one softened 8 oz. pkg. of cream cheese and one softened stick of butter. mix in 1 tsp. vanilla and 3-4 cups confectioner's sugar, adding slowly until desired filling consistency is reached. the original recipe only calls for whatever food coloring you prefer, but of course i had to add my own touch: fresh blended strawberries. the end result was a sort of chocolate covered creamy strawberry chocolately chocolate cookie. did i mention the chocolate?

picture quality leaves a little to be desired, but you get the idea.

i'm fresh out of anything else entertaining tonight. stop by later on in the week and maybe something a little more scintillating than cookies will have shown up. :)

-A Changed Woman

So A Couple Of Things

first off: i was re-reading my post from the other day and felt a bit sheepish about it. i think i may have the corner on run-on sentences, which can be kind of confusing for my readers. i'd like to think that someday i will find a medication for ADD that works for me....and when that long-awaited day arrives, my posts may be more user-friendly. 'til then...you'll just have to bear with the sporadic, intermittent references to things that seem to be related to NOTHING i'm writing about, but are like exponential tangents that have found their way out of this crazy, 5,000 mph brain of mine. lucky me. lucky you.

and lucky me for many other reasons, not the least of which being my very dear, sweet, generous friend Amy who not only cared for my Lil Punkin so i could be available at the good ol' mom and pop coffee shop 'round the corner (read: billion dollar chain Starbucks) but transformed my kitchen from something resembling the aftermath of Katrina to *sigh* something livable. live-able? no, livable! not sure on that one...any takers? anyway. i suppose in light of this less terrifyingly cluttered and altogether crusty corner of my house, i should be starting on the Chocolate sandwich cookie recipe i snagged from my mom the other day. mmmm....Chocolate....yes, Chocolate does get its very own capital letter because, well, Chocolate just deserves it. you MUST agree. Chocolate and i have a very special relationship. Chocolate and i go WAY back....don't even know when we began an item, really....just kind of fell into it, i suppose. unfortunately, i had to take a brief (read: interminable) hiatus from any Chocolate-related activities b/c Lil Punkin's tummy couldn't handle it while i was nursing. my husband can attest that those were dark days. i think the entire family is most likely better for Chocolate's re-entry into my life. but, i digress. back to the recipe. suffice it to say: i'll post pics of the sandwich cookies when they get themselves made. the pictures will most likely be taken in the 5 seconds between the cookies being sandwiched and being inhaled by my family and packaged to spread 'round the neighborhood and taken to the coffee shop.

*sigh* - that's enough for today, except to report that my delightful, british humor-loving, dry-witted, bit younger, former co-worker neighbor just got home, probly from class. he'll probly be real happy to learn that i've taken to posting his comings and leavings if he ever reads this. hey d -if you ARE reading this - sandwich cookies coming your way shortly.

keep it a great monday.