Only 3 More Weeks Now...

Hello world!

What have you been up to this week?

Us? Why, we've just been in survival mode, y'all.

It's been a rough, long, exhausting week but we're now down to 3 weeks of the man being non-weight bearing and that's definite progress.

Taylor had a great time going on various field trips at daycare because it is Spring Break after all. She's also heading to Austin tomorrow with my parents to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D at the Bob Bullock Museum. She's super stoked.

And, quite frankly, Mama needs some alone time...

Not because she's been difficult this week. She's been fantastic. And helpful. Very sweet. Uncharacteristically perky in the morning.

But being up and down with Dave during the night is tiring. Listening to him writhe in pain is heart-wrenching. And, if I'm honest, I've also felt a bit sorry for myself that the entire weight of our household rests solely on my shoulders for now.

My appreciation for single parent families and those whose spouses/loved ones are currently deployed is at an all time high.

This, too, shall pass. And, thanks be to God, my attitude hasn't been too bad this week. (Give or take 3-5 moments.) I've also been amazingly productive at work, which will be most helpful as we race to the end of fiscal year deadline at the end of April.

We're hanging in there and I hope you are too. Happy weekend to all and to all a good nap. ;-)

Our Exciting Life

This has been our life for the past few days...and will be for the next 3.5 weeks. Exciting, huh?

The patient...

...is doing well! Surgery was much faster than we anticipated and had a completely different outcome but that's ok because the problem was definitely found.

Turns out that Dave's ACL had healed nicely from the last surgery. The problem was the cartilage under his kneecap. Instead of being smooth and "plush carpet like" his was only smooth on the sides as a giant valley had been worn in the middle. His doctor, who I absolutely adore, pronounced it "absolutely horrible" and indicated that it was one of the worst cases he'd seen.

In addition, the cartilage he still had crumbled as soon as it was touched with the surgical instruments. It was a surprising find but my prayer had been that the problem would be found - and it was!

So how do you fix that? Well, I'm glad you asked.

Dr. Hamilton scraped all of the cartilage out and then pricked holes in the bone with an ice pick-type instrument until the bone began bleeding. This stimulates new cartilage growth. When all is said and done he'll have "something like Berber carpet instead of a plush carpet" but, hey, it's better than no carpet, right?

This injury causes all of the hanging and giving way he'd been experiencing (that can also be caused by the ACL) and is the cause of his chronic swelling and unbearable pain.

Since surgery, he's not really had much knee pain at all. Of course, I guess when you're in that much pain before surgery, the after isn't quite as bad. He did have a TON of soreness - like, to the point he almost couldn't move his upper body - due to the hammering that was done on his knee. That type of movement during surgery causes all of your bones above the impact point to shift.

Sounds horrible, doesn't it?

I thought so too.

So the only bad part is that he's now non-weight bearing for 4 weeks instead of 2 and that was a bit difficult for him to swallow but he'll survive. He will still be able to go back to work in 6 weeks and the recovery process should be much less difficult even though it will be just as long, if not longer. Cartilage regeneration is measured in months instead of weeks but we were expecting quite a long process anyway so that wasn't a big shock.

All in all, we have been incredibly blessed and truly couldn't have asked for better care. My parents were there to see him off and my mom stayed with me while my dad picked Tay up from after school care. We all met back up at our house after he was discharged for pulled pork sandwiches and chicken gumbo, courtesy of my mom.

See? I told you we were blessed!

And very thankful :-)

The Morning After

The morning after the Great Snowstorm of 2010, which amounted to all of 3 inches of the powdery white stuff, my little one has a delayed start at school. Nothing like the fear of some semi-icy roads to scare us Texans into heading out 2 hours later than normal. Please do not take that statement, however, as disappointment because I was super stoked to hang out a bit longer with the girl.

In fact, I was feeling a bit guilty about her having to literally drag me out of bed the last time this happened (I was still recovering from the aftermath of strep, y'all, and can I just reiterate that it's not pretty when an adult get a kid disease) so I was happy to get some more snow time in after logging 4 miles and, unfortunately, learning that a former boss and very good friend had passed away unexpectedly the night before.

Tay was a bit upset that the snow had "iced over" and wasn't fluffy and powdery anymore. She also didn't care much for being on the receiving end of this type of snowball. Of course, I have no idea who would lob this type of snow missile at their child. 




Miss Taylor then decided we should take a walk up the street to "check out the scenery." Here's where she was the beneficiary of my guilt from the last time because I still only had on my workout clothes and a light jacket (you notice from the pics that she'd stolen mine again, right?)...needless to say, off we went on our cold, merry way...

After we got back to the house, she plopped herself into the snow for "just one last minute."
And then proceeded to make it "rain snow" on top of her head. Seriously, this only happens once every 20 years in Texas so I had indulged the child. And then gave her a warm shower and bundled her up. I promise.
But not before she insisted on saying a final goodbye to Marty and Bart. Pieces of whom were still around for 4 or 5 days. They were nothing if not stubborn, resilient little fellas.
But she had the time of her life.

And, quite frankly, that's all that really mattered.

P.S. Tomorrow is Dave's big surgery day and we would really appreciate it if you remembered him in prayer. This will probably be a major procedure (they won't know exactly what's going on until they get in there) and he's a guy who doesn't like to be dependent on anyone or laid up for a long period. He'll be both for 4-6 weeks so I'm praying it goes much better than I'm anticipating. No matter what, I know He will take care of us.

Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed, says the Lord who has compassion on you.

Isaiah 54:10

Snowman Envy

What happens when you're 10 years old and, after building what you consider an awesome snowman, you look across the street and see this?

Well, if you're Taylor, you decide that another - larger - snowman must be built immediately in your backyard. Yours may not be quite as big but if you have two and they only have one, the score is even.

Or so I was told.

You also force your mother, who is trying to make homemade potato soup and bread for a cold evening meal, to don her slippers and grab her camera to take some grainy shots of you building said second snowman.

And you take you mother's Baylor jacket because you slid around in the snow earlier in the day, which required it to be immediately washed.

You roll the largest snowball you can possibly muster because you're "doing this one alone" and have the time of your life playing in the frigid snow. And your mother doesn't say a word because she knows this much snow only arrives in Waco, Texas, once in a great while.

The next morning you head out at first light to "decorate him" only to find that he (actually I should be referring to him by name - it's Bart; Marty was the first one she built) froze overnight and the only thing you can do to accessorize is add a couple of celery arms.

But it doesn't matter. Because you had the time of your life. And your mother has pictures to prove it.

Glorious Snow Day - Yet Another Photo Essay

The Hot Rod

About a month ago (maybe more - I've lost complete track of time), my mom called to tell my my stepdad was getting a new car. Since he'd just traded in his Tracker for a Liberty due to a couple hundred thousand miles, I was quite surprised.

Little did I know that what he'd actually done is run across a really awesome deal on a dream of his...

...a hot rod, if you will...

I believe it's a 1920 Ford Roadster...or something like that...

...what I do know is that my stepdad and my daughter really like riding around in it and going to Dairy Queen. Of course, they have to take all back roads because it's not street legal and can't go far due to the 10-gallon gas tank...

....but whatever makes them happy, right?

No matter where they go, they look super cute in the hot rod.