Flowers for Mom

Leah, Rusty and I were walking to the playground the other day.  As we walked, Leah kept picking all these little wild flowers and giving them to me.  When she gave me a particular one, I said “Oh!  These are my favorite!  When I was a little girl, I used to pick these flowers and give them to my mom.”

 

Without skipping a beat, she said “You can still give her flowers, you know”.

“No”, I said, “how can I do that?”

“Well, she said (in the most cheerful sing songy voice she could muster – knowing that even almost 13 years later, I can sometimes breakdown when thinking about my mom), “you know how some people pray at night?”

“Yes,” I said. 

“Well”, she says, “You can pray to her and put the flowers in your room and she will see them every day because she is always looking down on you.”

“See all those beautiful clouds up there?” she continued. “Those are the faces of all the people who have died and they are all looking down and watching over us all.”

It's moments like these that I find myself overwhelmed with a sense of gratitude.  For being given the amazing gift - and often overwhelming responsibility - of a person.  A person!  A little, real, living, breathing, learning, loving PERSON.  Wow!  I don't know who/what/where God is...but I am truly honored that this higher power deemed me responsible enough to mold and rear this little life!

I don't know the answers and I don't know the reasons for so many things in life.  One thing is for sure, though...that little girl of mine rocks!

Death Warmed Over

I have often wondered what people meant when they use that phrase.

As luck would have it...now I know.

It started 6 days ago. After a long and emotionally exhausting day (another startlingly low blood sugar crisis for Ryan), when I got home from work, I took a hot bath, put on my warmest pajamas, turned on the electric blanket and rolled myself up into a nice warm cocoon, and drifted off to dream land.

I should have known, right then and there, that something wasn\'t right. I am generally a very hot person and do not like the feeling of too many blankets, let alone ensconcing myself in all things firey.

A few less than restful hours later, I woke up to use the bathroom. The moment I threw back the covers, my entire body shouted "Oh no you don't!"

I immediately started shivering, my skin started crawling, my head throbbed as if rusty dull knives were being repeatedly thrust into my brain through each ear and then each eye and the air I was trying to breathe scraped and snagged its way across the raw and seething battlefield that had once been my throat.

I gingerly righted myself on the edge of the bed. The slightest movement sent waves of pain from head to toe.

And then the coughing. Oh My Dear Jesus...the coughing!!

It started with a teeny, tiny, barely there breath. With every centimeter that my lungs struggled to inflate, the burning in my throat roared louder, sharper, crueler. When the fit was mercifully over. I rested at the edge of the bed. I began to contemplate the consequences of simply letting myself wet the bed since I figured that if this was how I felt simply sitting upright, I was quite certain that standing and walking would be my final 2 acts. I waited a few minutes until the screaming symptoms quieted a bit and gurded my loins for this dreaded journey to the pisser. As soon as I stood, the chorus of agonies crescendoed, simultaneously rejecting my choice, putting me in my place, and knocking me back down to the bed.

Hmmm....would it really be so bad? Maybe if I peed on RYANs side of the bed, I could fall back asleep on my side and blame the puddle on fever sweats. But my bladder wouldn't let me let go.

Round two of "Project Get to the bathroom before you die" went slightly better. I got to the bathroom and managed to sit on the toilet at the exact moment my body was about to force me to. I woozily emptied my bladder. By the time I was halfway back to bed, the shivers began again in earnest and I wrapped myself in the blissful warmth and fell asleep counting sneezing sheep.

Around 1:00 am, Leah came crying into our room coughing and burning up with fever.

We both stayed home the next 2 days. Leah spent one entire day on the couch and the next mostly the same.

Saturday morning, I awoke to incredible chest pain and pressure and decided it was time...I couldn't ignore the symptoms anymore.  So, we went to urgent care and after shoving what looked and felt like a miniature bottle brush up my nose and out my tear duct...and then again in the other nostril, I learned it was true.  The flu, type A.  Great.

So, after $300 and 4 prescriptions I got to go home and sleep for a week, interuppted only by coughing fits.

I took the meds.

They did not help.

It is now February 2, almost a month later, and I am still coughing.

Hot.

My Personal Lemonade Stand

Since Monday was a holiday, I chose to take the rest of the week off as vacation days. Ryan and I could not recall the last time that I had taken a day off of work that wasn't for some medical emergency or another. A nice long week off sounded like a great idea. It has been a long time since I took a vacation day that wasn't intended for a trip to the Cleveland Clinic, a Dr. Appointment, a visit to the ER, etc. So here we are, having our "Stay-Cation".

Today, after picking Leah up from school, I started doing some yard work at home. My intent was to clean up this one embarrassingly jungle-like part of our yard that butts up against the neighbor's property. It really was quite bad. I always forget that part of the yard since it is out of sight (and out of mind) and end up needing a machete to get a handle on it. This season was no different.

Anyway...what started out as a one hour job ( since I do NOT intend to use my vacation time working my arse off!) turned into an all-day marathon of back-breaking but also very enjoyable yard work (I have come to realize that gardening and weeding are an excellent outlet for my control-freak nature...a few hours of perceived control over those plants (despite the fact that I can actually hear the dandelions taunting me and spewing their fuzzy seeds all over the place in an evil plan to rule the world) can be quite calming).

Before I had started the work, Ryan had told me and Leah to be sure that we stayed "hydrated". As soon as Leah heard this, she was on it and at the first moment the lawnmower turned off, she was standing on the deck shouting (threw a miniature traffic cone/megaphone) "Lyn Stadler! Please come over hear for your hydrating!"

I followed the sound of her voice and found her on the deck tending to what she called the "Sweet Heart Cafe". She had about 37 glasses, dishes, cups, bottles, and various liquids distributed and displayed on top of a cooler, complete with a water bottle stuffed with wild flowers we'd picked together in the yard. She met me at the gate and escorted me to my table and took my order. She then turned to her mad science kitchen and whipped me up a beverage that, as far as I can tell, was about 1 part Snapple, 3 parts water, 2 parts various debris and 94% dog hair. It was, of course, the best drink I'd ever had!

And so this continued all day from about noon until 4:30 pm. I worked until the sun and sweat got the best of me, sit at my table at the cafe, have a drink and enjoy the shade and a cool breeze, and then get back to work. Each time I returned to Sweet Heart Cafe, a new hostess/waitress had come to work and I would learn about her name, her children and her life....I made quite a few new friends.

There was Lena...46 year old mother of Jake and Joshua who were 59 and 9, respectively. There was Haley, a young mother-to-be. (Actually, there were quite a few pregnant ladies....a friend of ours told us today that she was expecting).

It was really nice to find a way to get some work done and get to hang out with my little girl and her creativity. I recommend this method for anyone who can...it made the yard work a LOT easier!

"Stone School"

Ryan grew up as the youngest of 7 siblings (5 girls, 2 boys). The closest sibling in age to him was his sister Claudia, who is 13 years older. I often hear stories about their childhood and wonder at the difference between what it must have been like for him to grow up versus myself, with only 1 sister. There are a variety of theories out there. Many say that Ryan grew up more like an only child, since most of the siblings were already out of the house when he came a long. I often remark that it seems like Ryan has 6 mothers instead of one mother and 5 sisters. But it all seemed so different and almost alien to me until this Easter, when I witnessed first hand how it might have been.

Leah is the youngest cousin in the family. In the Stadler clan, the next oldest cousin to her is Katie, who is 14. Being the youngest, and the cutest (well, at least in my opinion), she often becomes the center of attention and manages to win over even the most stern older cousins.

For example, on Easter Sunday, Leah made the rounds of the living room and dining room at Grandma's house, where many of the family had come to celebrate together, looking for willing participants for "Stone School". This is a game that Ryan and his siblings grew up playing. The premise is simple, yet surprisingly well received by even the most curious kid. You pick one "teacher" and then gather as many "students" as you can. The "students" each sit at the bottom of the stairs, or "kindergarten" and with each successfully answered question, they move up one step to the next "grade". The first person to "graduate" wins.

I had never heard of this until joining Ryan's family...actually not even until Leah was a couple of years old and one day she asked me to play and I had no idea what she was talking about. Seems her Aunt Linda (aka: Leah's Be-All, Do-All, 100% Leah-Attentive Aunt) had taught her how to play Stone School and Leah became an instant fan. Luckily for Leah, Aunt Linda has MUCH more patience than I do and seems content to play the game (or do anything else Leah wants) over and over and over...ad nauseum. I, on the otherhand, will find myself impatiently checking my watch by the time I've made it to "third grade."

Anyway...on Easter, Leah had managed to corral two students. Her 16 year old cousin, Kevin (who, like Aunt Linda, seems to have an un-ending vat of attention to spend on Leah) and her 27 year-old cousin, Casey. Despite the fact that Casey was the obvious favorite (Leah has always thought he was the coolest guy in the room), Leah managed to keep he and Kevin in close competition....depsite the fact that her questions were bit too easy!

As I watched her play, it occurred to me that, in some respescts, this must have been similar to the way it was for Ryan growing up...the youngest, cutest, and most active person in the room, with a sea of adults to watch, laugh, and love.

Although it is a different generation and we are talking about cousins and not siblings, it still seemed pretty neat to me that Leah has been blessed with so many wonderful family members even though she is, and will most likely remain, an only child.

I guess things have a way of working themselves out.

P.S....Consider yourself fore-warned. If you find yourself in a crowded room with Leah, you will most likely be asked "Do you want to play Stone School? It's REALLY REALLY REALLY FUN!"

Dr. Stadler...Paging Dr. Leah Stadler...

Since high school, I have been plagued with horribly painful and exhausting bouts of sciatica...pain, tingling and burning sensation caused by injury or compression of the sciatic nerve. The pain can be so bad at times that I feel as if I might pass out. The good news is that these bouts have been temporary and usually last no more than a couple of weeks. Over the past few years, their frequency has also decreased. I have not had an issue since we moved to Buffalo more than 3 years ago.

Until now.

It started a couple of days ago. There was no particular event that triggered it. Which is typical for me. It could be triggered by simply bending over to pick up a pencil and WHAM! from out of nowhere this piercing pain stabs you in the back and stops you dead in your tracks. In a moment of that much pain, I would not be able to stand up straight even if someone had a gun to my head. This current bout has been no different, so off I limped to the chiropractor, hunched over like I'd just been kicked in the stomach.

It is funny the things people will say to you when you are in this condition "Oh no! What happened to you?!?!" The look of horror on their face does not seem justified by my answer "oh, just a pinched nerve"...based on the way I looked, I think they expect the reason for my mutilated state to be something more like "Oh, I just got hit by a tractor trailer...as soon as I get this eyeball put back in, I'll be good as new". It just doesn't seem possible that a person could be so deformed from something so simple as a nerve. But, the reality is that the pain is worse even than what I experienced while delivering Leah...only the bad part is that it doesn't go away....and I have yet to find a Dr that will give me an epidural without being pregnant. (Maybe I should check with Michael Jackson's doctor...seemed like he has the really good stuff.)

Anyway...you get the picture. So, here I am at the chiropractor's office telling the Dr all about my history and the pain, all the while cringing and shifting around in my seat to try to find a comfortable spot to no avail. After she assessed the situation, she began to examine me, and checked some of my joints and stuff. Then, without ANY warning, she laid her hands on my right hip (the one that has been the most painful)and punched down on it with all of her might. When she applies this pressure, the area of the table under me also drops down, to increase the chance of getting the spine back into the right orientation. There are no words that could accurately describe the pain I felt in that moment so let's just say this... If there had been a knife, gun or any other lethal weapon anywhere in my reach, the good Doctor would have been snuffed out...no questions asked. She did a few more Samurai moves on my back, the whole time with me crying like a baby and then let me get off the table. Amazingly enough, I felt SO MUCH BETTER! Nowhere near close to normal but better enough that I walked out of the office without a limp or a hunch.

When I got home, I explained every thing to Ryan and Leah. In the blink of an eye, she donned her Florence Nightingale Uniform. She told me to lay down, then covered me up, kissed my cheek and whispered "Don't Worry Mommy...I'll take care of you".

Just after the nap I decided I needed a hot bath so I planted my feet on the floor, braced myself, and began to stand up. The anticipation of the pain that might be coming laid a blanket of fear over me. She must have been able to sense how scared I was because she ran to me and said "MOMMY! Now, just wait a minute, stop moving...I am going to help you up." And proceeded to climb up on the couch and stand behind me. "You are OK now. I will help you get up. Go ahead!" As I stood, she placed her little hands on my lower back and gently pushed. She followed me all the way up the stairs and into the bathroom, supporting me all the way. I started the faucet in the tub and sat down to wait for the tub to fill. While I was waiting, Leah kept running out of the room and coming back in again with things hidden behind her back.

As i walked slowly to the tub, she said "Mommy, see how these leaves are shaped like hearts? (there is an ivy plant hanging in the bathroom) "well...I am going to give this one to you so you will always know I love you."

When I got to the tub, she had removed another 8 leaves from the plant (poor Mr. Ivy!), and laid them in a curvy line on the edge of the bathtub. She must have gone in and out of the bathroom a dozen times! When all was said and done, she had put a candle, the leaves, a dixie cup of water (which she filled and re-filled and stood and watched to make sure I drank every last drop of), my slippers, my pajamas and a towel. She held my hand while I climbed into the tub and then made sure I got seated before going away. She caressed my face with her hand and then leaned in and placed a teeny tiny kiss right on the tip of my nose. She said she would be back to help me out of the tub and started to walk away but stopped and turned around again to say "Call me if you need help. I am a doctor and that is what doctors are for!" (oh god...if only that were true!)




After the bath, she held the towel out for me the same way I do for her, and wrapped it around me and walked me to the "Sick Room". When we got to the door, she stopped me and said "Look at this picture mommy...this picture will remind you where you need to go in case you get lost". She had tape a picture of Ryan and I on the door...actually a hand drawing of the two of us that his sister, Pat, had re-created in colored pencil. One of my favorite pics of us, ever!

When I got inside the room, she let me get dressed and then came back to tuck me in. On the nightstand, she had placed some of the leaves and 2 teeny stuffed bears who, she told me, would keep me company if I woke up and no one else was there.

What an amazing kid! I guess we'll keep her after all. :)

Leah's Boyfriend

On Sunday, Ryan, Leah and I attended the Western New York Health Expo at the Erie County Fairgrounds. The place was filled with health care professionals and the like. Each booth had candy or trinkets to give away. One booth was offering free chair massages and a sample of Spinal Decompression treatment. There were prizes to win, games to play, hoops to hula.

But, as is usually the case, Leah found her soul mate almost instantly. After strolling down aisle after aisle of information laden tables and piles of free pens, she found her favorite booth...The Hamburg Fire Department. It wasn't so much the allure of firefighting, but rather her complete and total true love of "Sparky", the talking Fire Dog.

Leah has met Sparky before. I think the first time was a couple of years ago at the Erie County Fair. I never even saw him coming...but suddenly, here is this mechanical, remote controlled, talking Fire Dog...a Dalmatian (of course) decked out in a fire Hat and sunglasses, driving a fire truck AND (this is my favorite part) a hidden squirt gun!

I took Leah about 2.5 seconds to see him from afar, run full speed towards him, and launch herself towards him in a genuine bear hug...that was all it took...Sparky became her valentine.

Then, this past summer we were at the Hamburg Farmer's Market sniffing fresh herbs, fruits, vegetables and lavender scented soaps when suddenly...there he was again. He was commanding a gaggle of 2 to 5 year olds (as usual) and having a grand old time. This time when she saw him, the happiness in her eyes rivaled that which you might see in a brand new mother's gaze at her favorite person in the world. This time is was so much more...she remembered him from their first meeting more than a year ago! The excitement in her run and embrace seemed to say that maybe she had even been thinking about him and wondered if he was gone for ever...

This time, I noticed Sparky's "partner". A thin man with short brown hair and glasses wearing a set of headphones with a microphone attached and carrying a remote control. Obviously, he and Sparky have been working together for years because his performance was amazing. He knew how to be just far enough away so the kids wouldn't see him yet close enough so he could hear them and answer their questions. As soon as I saw him, I asked him to speak directly to Leah. She was standing in a group of a bunch of other kids...marveling at this talking dog! Suddenly, Sparky's head turned and tilted in Leah's direction and he said "Hello Leah! How are you today?"

You could have knocked her over with a feather! At a complete and total loss of words, she simply got down on her knees, wrapped her arms around his nck and whispered "Hi Sparky! I'm so Glad to see you! I missed you so much!".

So, this time, when Leah saw him again, she ran to him and began to chat like old friends who hadn't had a chance to talk for awhile....and then never left his side for 2 hours. Sparky followed my sweet little girl ALL OVER THE EXHIBITION HALL! She would say "Sparky?! Do you want to watch me go down the slide?" "Sure! he said. Leah took him by the paw and said "Okay...Let's go...I can show you where it is!" and began to lead the way. If Sparky got a little side tracked or slowed down, which happened pretty much every ten feet or so, Leah would turn around and say "Over here Sparky! Come here! We are almost there! You are doing really good!". At one point, I walked with her...a little further behind closer to Sparky's partner and watched in amazement as Leah and Sparky made their way around the building...inspiring laughs, winks, and claps along the way. (Maybe she'll be a politician someday?".

After a tearful and lengthy good bye, we headed home. On the way Leah asked if she could send Sparky a letter and a picture of her. It is posted below exactly the way she asked me to write it.

Dear Sparky ~

I LOVE YOU, Sparky and I’ll Miss You!

See You at the County Fair!!




From Your Number One Fan!!

Out of the mouths of babes...

Ryan and I have not really decided yet on how our "faith" should look. We both believe in God (although depending on what day of the week it is we both might describe Him very differently) but neither prescribe to many of the philosophies that go along with individual churches. We were both raised as Christians, he Catholic and myself Lutheran. I like some of the traditions and ideals that go along with certain religions and others not so much. For example, the tradition of "passing the peace" or however you say it has always sent me into a sick to my stomach nervous attack. I hated having to grab the hands of all these people around me...I always tried not to make eye contact. I'm not sure why I don't like it...and still don't as a grown up...but often use it as an excuse for not going to church on a regular basis. I love the community that comes along with being a member of a congregation. My sister has a second family in her church and they support each other more often than a lot of "real" families do.

But, we just haven't found the right place for us to set up shop just yet. So, like many wanderers, we "visit" churches occassionally. This year for Christmas we attended a service at the Basilica, a Catholic church in Lackawanna (about 4 miles from our home). We chose it because it is an amazingly huge and beautiful building. Regardless of your own faith, you can not help but be moved by the love, time, hard work, and sacrifice its builders must have devoted to it. The fact that they believed so deeply that they would build this building in honor of their savior is powerful.

We were about 30 minutes early for the 4pm church service on Christmas Eve. We thought this would be early enough...not so much! The place was PACKED...people literally spilling out the doors. We found two rickety folding chairs that had been placed (strangely) behind a large pillar. From the seats you could barely see what was going on. But, we enjoyed it nonetheless. Leah scampered back and forth between my and Ryan's lap and then to Grandma and Grandpa's pew about 10 rows away. She was, of course, wearing what she proudly calls her "clocky" shoes (because of the sound they make when they hit the floor...which is amplified, it seems, about 200 times when done in a quiet, serene, strict and marble-floored place of worship) which had me cringing and turning bright red with each step. Luckily, it was a children's service so there were plenty of other children in the church being loud and/or unruly...it just seemed like she was the loudest one!

Anyway...not being a regular attendant at a church service, let alone one in which there are so many things to do (kneel, stand, kneel, sit, kneel, pray, sing, chant, pray, kneel, kneel and chant, kneel and pray...you get my drift) she was pretty restless and excited and lost in wonder at all of these great and beautiful things around her. She lit a candle for my mother at an altar, wanted to light 10 more at other altars, wanted to know "why that man is hanging from a cross", what the pictures meant, what the words said on the stain glass windows, etc. It is hard to explain Catholocism to a willing adult, let alone a confused and curious child! But, i did my best to answer her questions and keep her as quiet as possible, until it was time for communion.

I was confirmed when I was a teenager at my Lutheran Church. I have taken the "body and the blood" many times in my life but am never quite sure if I am "allowed" to at a Catholic Church....so I always just skip it. But, when Leah heard the priest say it was time for bread and wine (interesting to me that this was the ONLY thing he said that she actually heard) she thought he meant snack time and immediately wanted to get in line for the treat.

At first, I just said no. But as the barage of questions came, I had fewer and fewer answers and less and less resolve to explain it all to her. Finally, we just told her that it was a special church that we do not go to on a regular basis and we were not allowed to have it. She didn't like this answer. So, she took matters into her own hands and walked to the front of the line (cutting off about 50 confused adults) and stood looking at the woman who was serving the body closest to our seats. She stood there quietly, looking at the woman with hope in her eyes. The woman's eyes darted from Leah to Ryan and I and back again about 30 times...silently trying to get us to get this child, who had obviously not yet had her first communion, to go back to where she belonged and sit down. After a few moments of not getting what she wanted, Leah came back to us, confused but not as upset as I thought she might get.

"Well, I can't have the bread, mommy, but I can get you some wine if you want?" she whispered (somehow at a volume that exceeds her normal non-whisper voice).

"No thank you, sweetie" I said, shortly, hoping that would be the end of it.

"You like wine don't you mommy?" she said.

"Yes, I do like wine, but I don't want any. But thank you for asking." I said, pleading silently for her to drop it.

And then, finally..."Well, if you don't want the wine...I can get you a beer instead!"

I can not be certain, but I'm pretty sure that the lightning bolt demolished a couple of people sitting next to me.

Merry Christmas!