DAMN, I need a glass of wine

I finished reading 'Choosing to See' last night. It was a book recommended to me by another mother who had lost a child. I really am impressed by Mary Beth Chapman's ability to see 'good' in each and every situation...I was however a little disappointed by her seemingly amazing walk with God....at some points in the story I wanted her to just scream...'DAMN, I need a glass of wine'. But I guess it wasn't that kind of book. It was a helpful book and I'm glad I read it. My next stop on the reading trail is 'I know Heaven is REAL' which I am really excited about reading....and yes, I'll read it with a glass of wine.

I made an appointment to visit with the trauma team at Children's Medical Center in Dallas that treated Carter man the day of the accident. For those of you who don't know, Carter was care flighted to Children's while Cooper, Maggie and I each went to ETMC, Tyler to be treated. My parents met the trauma team at Children's but I never made it to Children's. My grief therapist advised me that the first step to overcoming this PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) is to meet with Carter's doctors and let them tell me about Carter's final hours on earth. When I left Carter he was saying 'Mommy'...the next time I would see him would be in his casket. So Tuesday, February 15th I will meet the men and women who carefully worked to save Carter, December 4, 2010. I'm not sure I'm excited about the meeting but it is the next step in a grieving process that can only be described as 'being burned alive'....


and yes, it makes me want to say 'DAMN, I need a glass of wine'....

Life isn't fair...even in prayer

Baby Elliott is going to be ok!!. He overcame some big hurdles yesterday. Lanie's sister, Laurie said it was a true miracle. I believe in miracles. I believe in the power of prayer. I've prayed and prayed and prayed for baby Elliott. But sometimes....life isn't fair, even in prayer.

December 4, 2011 remberances: The accident comes back to me in waves. Sometimes I have a memory in the middle of a lesson with my students. Sometimes I have a memory in the middle of the shower. Sometimes I have a memory in the middle of the night. Sometimes I have a memory while praying with the natives. Last night I had a memory in the middle of reading a book....and I remembered my prayer on December 4th.

While I was reading last night, I found myself remembering me kneeling beside carter with my shirt wrapped around his little arm. His arm was cut so deep I could see the bone. I removed my own shirt and wrapped it around the injury to stop the bleeding. I remember praying for God to save his arm. I yelled at the man helping me 'he plays baseball, he can't lose his arm'....little did I know how trivial my prayer was. Carter didn't lose his arm....he lost his life.

While I was on the emergency room table I prayed harder than I'd ever prayed before. I remember bargaining with God. I prayed 'if/then' prayers. 'If you save Carter's arm, then I promise to commit myself to you in ever capacity'. Last night for the first time....i feel like that day, at mile marker 562, I prayed the wrong prayer for my son. How silly was I to pray for his arm?! How superficial am I to pray that he could play baseball this spring if his arm healed. Carter didn't lose his arm....he lost his life.

I cried a lot last night. I cried for Elliott and his family. I cried for my Carter and my family. I cried because I had prayed and prayed and prayed so hard for Elliott....just like I had prayed for Carter.

I only wish I knew why one child was saved while one child wasn't. Sometimes life isn't fair....even in prayer.

peace and healing.....

Sunday School Teachers and stuff.....

I have a friend named Lanie. She was Carter's Sunday School teacher. Carter called her 'mommy's pretty friend that teaches me in sunday school'. He loved her. Lanie and I would email from time to time about funny things Carter said about Sunday School. She and I became good friends.

At Carter's memorial service, I don't remember much of anything. I don't remember who attended. I don't remember who I hugged. I don't remember who said 'God bless you'. I don't remember. But.....i do remember Lanie. In the mass of hundreds of people, I looked up as I walked out and I made eye contact with her. I saw her eyes filled with tears and I remember.

Later in the week I would find a bible in my mailbox. It was a pretty bible with a sweet inscription inside from Lanie reading 'I love you sweet friend'. It would take a day or two for me to pick up the bible and look inside. I would find that Lanie had highlighted and paper clipped verses of hope, healing, love, and loss though out the ENTER bible. I have read each verse she highlighted. I have cried over each paper clipped page. I have felt comforted, not only by the Word but by my friend's thoughtfulness, her tender heart, her strength.

Now Lanie needs my prayers. She needs the same words she gave me about strength, faith, hope, love, healing.

You see....Lanie's son, born February 3....is hurt. His heart and lungs aren't working. He's really sick. Elliott, Lanie's son, is in Dallas, at Children's hospital.

In the same hospital where Carter lost his life, Elliott is fighting for his.

I have struggled with my faith. I have been angry at God. I have felt cheated by God....but now, at this very moment, I know that God can move mountains. I know that I can pray and pray and pray some more that baby Elliott feel Carter's loving arms wrapped around him. I want Elliott to live and be healthy....not only because I love his family, but also for selfish reasons. I need Elliott to be ok so I know that Carter had a hand in his healing. I want this only small life, Elliott's, to matter. I want Elliott to grow to be big and strong. I want to watch him play....and one day....

I want to be Elliott's Sunday School teacher.

A painful reflection

December 4, 2010 would start as an ordinary day. The morning was filled with Breakfast with Santa, Olivia's birthday party, Maggie's dance recital, lunch at McAllisters....then off to Canton to buy some wrapping paper and visit friends. We never made it to Canton.

Rememberances: The three kids were in the back seat. Maggie was behind me, Cooper in the middle, Carter was on the right of Cooper. The kids were buckled. Carter wadded a sweatshirt into a ball to take a nap, Cooper intently played his itouch, and maggie played with a toy she had found on the floor board. Maggie was singing at the top of her lungs, Carter was yelling at her to be quiet....It was a pretty day. The sky was clear and the weather was amazing. I glanced in the back seat to quiet the commotion, when I turned my head around, the car in front of me had slowed because of car trouble and the passenger had his hand out the window waving me past. I quickly turned into the left lane, overcorrecting, then overcorrecting again. The tahoe beging to roll. I remember screaming, metal crashing, blood, glass, people, pain, fear, crying, people yelling, helicopter humming, ambulance lights flashing, screams for mommy.....my life would never be the same.

When my carter left me he was crying. He said 'mommy' and I told him I loved him with my whole heart. I promised him it'd be ok soon....I promised him I'd protect him.... I screamed 'i love you carter' and held his warm little hand...

i remember laying on a cold emergency room table. I remember my hand hurting and blood in my hair. I remember maggie coming in to tell me she loved me. i remember cooper being wheeled in on a table to tell me he would be ok. I remember the chaplain. He came in and looked at me....tears were in his eyes. I remember he said 'i'm so sorry'.....I remember screaming. I remember the broken promises I made to Carter....I couldn't protect him. It wouldn't be ok.

We buried Carter four days later. My life is forever changed. This blog is a story of my journey. Its a story about good days and bad. It's a story about funny memories and painful ones. It's a story about broken promises and hopeful futures. This is my story. Peace be with you.

Carter Kieth

Please, don't ask me if I'm over it yet.

I'll never get over it.

Please, don't tell me he's in a better place.

He's not here with me.

Please, don't say at least he isn't suffering.

I haven't come to terms with why he had to suffer at all.

Please, don't tell me you know how I feel,

unless you have lost a child.

Please, don't ask me if I feel better.

Bereavment isn't a condition that clears up.

Please, don't tell me you had him for so many years.

What year would you chose for your child to die?

Please, don't tell me God never gives more than we can bear.

Please, just say you are sorry.

Please, just say you remember Carter.

Please, just let me talk about Carter.

Please mention Carter

.

Please, just let me cry.

For years, I peered over my styrofoam beer cup at those Stay at Home Mommies and wondered about their elusive world. What do they do all day? Where do they go? Well, I finally gave in (at a slightly panicky 27) and turned in my drinking hat. Watch me as I infiltrate their ranks….

I have always thought blue blood coursed through my veins. I strongly suspected that a tiara rested on the regal heads of my female ancestors. I considered the possibility that my pedigree, somehow lost in the royal shuffle, had the noble family crest imprinted at the bottom….(in fine print)…for all to see…(provided they have a magnifying glass).

And, now I know it’s true.

When I enter a room, music plays.

“Can you tell me how to get
How to get to Sesame Streeeeet.”

All occupants of the room rise upon my arrival.

“Pick me up! Pick me up!! Mommmy! Mooooooommy!”

When there is a crisis, I am always the first to be beckoned.

“He BROKE my dolly!!! Cooper is roping my princess vanity! Carter just wore his boots in the pool! AHHHHH!”

I have a full wait staff.

“Ahh…So, yeah…hon, can ya pick up a pizza? and while you're out..another case of beer....bottles this time.”

My ladies in waiting circle when I call…

“We're headed to dirty G's....but oh...I forgot....Yeah! Ya better pick up those Cheerios, Missy!”

I live in a prestigious palace…

“I don’t know how we fit all these toys in this crackerjack box of a house !”

…surrounded by sprawling grounds.

“Babe, is that some sort of weed experiment gone wrong in the backyard?”

I gracefully rule while perched atop my throne.

“Close the door!! I am using the bathroom!”

Of course, I always bow to the Queen Mum.

“Yeah, yeah. I know. facebook less. Cook more. Gotcha the first time, Mama!”

And, it is my sincere hope that I pass my tiara on to my little princesses…

“Texas A&M. Texas A&M, Texas A&M.....if all else fails...Marry Rich. Marry Rich. Marry Rich.”

Here’s to all the other royal mommies out there.

Fake kiss. Stiff wave. Curtsy. Fake kiss. Stiff wave. Curtsy.

maybe it's time i update this blog thing. i should have tons to write about...i haven't written in 7 weeks...mainly because this life i lead has been crazy...and we all know i'm the queen of crazy.

so here are some big updates
1) coop graduated from kindergarten (i did cry..and i'm not a crier)
2) baseball season is almost over....the elmination series starts monday
3) cattle baron's pre-party is friday...really great music, really cold beer, and really...that's what its all about
4) todd got another knew boat...yeah....cause a man needs lots of boats?!?
5) wiskey myers one week (and i'm a whiskey kind of girl)

should i now expound on each update? maybe that would be boring? i need to work on being a better writer...i'll try to update the blog daily...maybe?