in the record books

I think they could throw this day in the record books as possibly the worst day ever!
And they might as well throw me in there too as the worst mommy ever.


I just finished a prayer with Taylor, tears streaming the entire time (from me, not her)...BEGGING God to lay his hand on us and help us through tonight and the rest of the time we are here. To help us get a good night's sleep. To help us be rested and be able to enjoy each other tomorrow.


Usually, I don't like posting for people to know we are out of town. But I guess that's why we have a KILLER dog at our house and a cop for a neighbor, and other neighbors watching our house while we're gone.


After a phone call from my parents on Wednesday, telling us that my Grandpa was not doing well at all and would be taken off all his medications that afternoon...not expected to make it 24 hours beyond that, my sister and I decided to head to Springfield/Ozark. She drove from the Dallas area and then drove with me and the kids to Springfield. Dave is in Kansas City with his dad and a great friend for the Nascar Races. They had garage passes...THIS I am told is AWESOME!!!!

I was okay leaving town with my sister going with us. In fact the first day was GREAT! The kids traveled better than ever! I guess you could say that was the calm before the storm.

Last night was NOT so great. In fact horrible.
Nap time was not great at all.
The 3 of us are exhausted, and cranky.
I'm having the hardest time keeping my little ones happy.
I have lost all patience.

At one point, when I was laying with both of them in my bed trying to get them to sleep...in the midst of stealing blankets, kicking, talking, crying, and moving all around, Mason stuck his finger so far up my nose it caused tears. I hope that's making you laugh...because it didn't me.

It took me FOREVER and some tears to get the kids to sleep tonight. No one else can help me, because my kids only want me. I feel so bad for not wanting to be wanted. Finally, when Taylor DID decide that Mima could lay with her (in which I was about to do a cartwheel I was so excited for a break)....I went looking for her only to find out that she had gone back to the hospital to be with her dad.

I guess you could call this post a big pity party....maybe it is. But I'll call it....a lesson about never leaving town with my children without Dave again. Or, maybe I'll call it...."hmmmmm? do I take my husband for granted or what!??!?"

From the moment I began packing up and trying to get the house put together and us out the door, I realized just how much he does for us. So many times I was frustrated with trying to figure something out, forgetting something that I never have to remember because he does, and realizing there's just so many things I don't even have to think about because he takes care or it. Thank GOODNESS for my sister's help. A few times I felt completely incapable and completely dependent on him. Then of course, that just made me feel dumb and more frustrated. Since being here, I have realized that he really holds us all together. He helps me from getting too stressed, helps me make decisions, helps discipline the kids, helps love on them. It my moments of complete frustration and failure, I realize just how much he does for us and am so thankful.

I feel so sorry for Taylor and Mason. They are tired, kind of bored, all out of sorts, and they miss their daddy. I miss him too.

All of this, as we wait for my grandpa to decide when he's ready to go be with his Heavenly Father. He has already made it much further than doctors expected. He is off all medications and nothing artificial is keeping him alive. He has been completely unresponsive until today...his blood pressure went up higher than it's been the entire week, and he opened his eyes a little. We wondered if this was him "waking up" to say goodbye as you often hear of people doing. We don't know. We're just waiting. My mom and dad are trying to be there non-stop with him, so they will be with him when he goes. No one likes seeing him lay there like that. But he's such a fighter and always has been. He did things up to a VERY old age that he was not suppossed to be doing. He just wouldn't stop and wouldn't let anyone tell him he couldn't do something. So this is typical of him. A part of me just wants to whisper in his ear and tell him it's okay, he can go now, he's lived a wonderful, god-honoring life, and now Jesus is waiting, and we'll be okay. But I know God is in control. I'll let him take care of all that. He knows when he's ready for him.

I'm praying that tomorrow is better. In lots of ways.