Jury Duty

A couple of weeks ago I opened my mailbox and found this very odd and strange looking letter. I skimmed right over it at first and as I was pilfering through the other mail I notice the bright red letters.

"Report for jury duty".

What?! Oh dears!

Mom was with me and I immediately said over and over, "Mom, I can't do this. I can't do this. I won't do this. I won't do this".

In between laughter and hysteria I tried to realize it was my civic duty. I should be a proud American citizen. It's patriotic to be summoned, right? Well, if you take a good look at my chin right now, it's broke out in pimples from stress. I don't feel very patriotic.

I woke up this morning, THE morning, to report. Stomach in knots and a trip to the bathroom later and I was off. I was nervous for a few reasons. First, I don't particularly like new things. I want to know all the details about a situation before I go in. And for this, I had nothing. I had a time and I place and that was it. Second, what about the girls? Brandon is swamped at work and all my friends have young kids too; who in the world is going to pick them up from school if I'm stuck in a courthouse? I was afraid of all sorts of little things.

Thankfully, Brandon's best friend was also summoned so there was a familiar face in the room with me. If there was an emergency, I wasn't alone. But then something I wasn't expecting happened. When the circuit judges walked out, I knew two of them! What?!

I had myself a quiet chuckle to myself for freaking out and listened to the rules and watched the orientation video. Before we were finished for the day I approached the judge and stated my reasons for excusal -- stay at home mom, in Bible study core group with one of the judges -- but he didn't excuse me. He was super friendly and told me to stick with them and we'd work things out.

I know to some people being nervous about jury duty sounds silly. But to me, it was dreadful. All of the unknowns freak me out. And I'm still not finished with my duty. I must serve for the next three months. This is going to be exhausting. But this is what I'm going to cling to...

"For God has not given us a spirit of fearfulness, but of power, love, and sound judgement". 2 Timothy 1:7

When I pick up the phone to call in next month, I will not be afraid.

When I report to the courthouse, I will not be afraid.

When I'm not personally able to pick up the girls from school, I will not be afraid.

Because He is with me. Even in jury duty.

9/11

I woke up late that morning. Late, being sometime after 8 a.m. The girls had decided to sleep in and that, thankfully, gave me a few extra moments of rest. They were nine days shy of being five months old. I had only been married a little over a month. But I will never forget that morning.

As was the custom, I walked through the tiny hallway in our apartment and went to turn on the t.v. It was time for Good Morning America and I needed my time with Charlie and Diane before the girls woke up. Still in a haze I clicked the power button on the remote and turned to the kitchen. It took a few minutes before I realized the voice I was hearing wasn't Charlie or Diane, but it was Peter.

Peter? Peter Jennings in the early morning? That couldn't be right. Could it?

I proceeded preparing my toast and I'm sure I grabbed a caffeinated drink. Most definitely soda, not coffee. It wasn't until I saw the t.v. did I realize what was going on. Though, I know I wasn't able to fully comprehend it, because it's still hard for me to wrap my head around it even today.

I watched the coverage of the twin towers with my mouth wide open. I cried. And I was afraid. Did this really just happen? I sat on my couch all day. I could not turn away from the coverage. I called my sister in Baltimore because there was a World Trade Center there. I called Brandon numerous times during the day for reassurance.

I'm not sure how I took care of the girls that day. I think I was in robot mode. I had enough sense, though, to take a picture of them that day. I knew one day I would have to talk about what happened that September morning because our country would not be the same again.

For us, it was pretty easy to move on with our lives. Brandon works in the aviation business and his company took a hit. We knew at any time he could be laid off. But praise God for his provision! We live in a military town now, just a few miles from an Air Force base. Many of the girls' classmates have mothers or fathers that have served or are serving in Iraq. We have C-130's flying overhead night and day. It's a constant reminder for us to never take living here in America for granted.

Stuck

I am in a rut.

I've reached that point again where I don't want to blog anymore.

But I do want to blog.

I want to document our days and remember the silly stories.

But I kind of want to retreat to the old fashion journal. You know, pen and paper?

Oh, what to do, what to do...

Seriously?! Again?!

Summer is usually pretty tame around here. The girls leave for Oklahoma and Brandon and I have fun just the two of us. Even with Baylee's traumatic end to the school year a couple of months ago, we were still enjoying our time. We had a few doctor visits here and there for her pinky, but other than that we were just rolling through the summer.

Until Wednesday, July 8, 2009...

I had just finished putting on my make up and was going over everything I needed for church. It was my night to help facilitate Bible study and I had baked 54 cupcakes that morning. I had three batches of pink lemonade in the fridge and I had the tablecloths and plates ready to go. I was well organized considering I had two hours until time to leave. Now I know why.

My phone rang a quarter till four. It was mom. I no more than said hello and her home phone started ringing. We hung up so she could take the call. She called right back and the same thing happened, except this time it was Dad beeping in on her cell phone. I laughed and told her to take the call. I had no idea what was going on behind the scenes.

She was finally able to call back and I think I was laughing about how she was so popular that day. I'm pretty sure she didn't laugh. No, she said, "I have some bad news".

Well. That isn't how I wanted to start the conversation.

"Baylee fell off a horse and we think she has her broken wrist".

Umm.... Not what I was expecting to hear.

My dad had taken the girls to my Uncle Garey's for the afternoon. He has horses and cattle and two granddaughters a few years older than my girls (Payden is 11 and Chelsea is two weeks away from 14). Payden and Chelsea are amazing riders and are so gracious to let the girls come love on the horses.

After piecing together the pieces from Baylee and my Dad, here's the story...

Caylee was riding with Payden. Payden was taking turns riding with both girls and Chelsea was with whichever girl was riding alone -- I'm sure being the oldest and definitely most mature rider, she was given the "supervisor position". They had been riding for awhile and were sitting still trying to decide what to do next. Should they ride more or go swim? They all agreed to ride for 30 more minutes and then swim. And that's when it happened.

Baylee's horse, CandyMan, took off. First in a trot, she said. Then canter and then full gallop. Dad and Uncle Garey were by the house and Dad saw the horse take off. Baylee was screaming, but according to Dad she was doing great riding. She was sitting up and holding her own. But she was scared. Bay told me she didn't know where the horse was going. It took off without her instructing it to and she couldn't get him to stop.

And so she jumped.

Yes, my sweet little Baylee jumped from a running horse. And the damage was done.

....

When Mom first told me, I have to be honest, I laughed. Then again, I laugh when I'm nervous. It was the same hand that just had the cast taken off a mere eight days earlier. Mom hadn't seen it, but she could tell from talking to Dad that it was for sure broken. I wasn't too concerned, sad for Baylee, but we could handle a broken wrist. Then things changed.

They needed to go to a different medical facility. Baylee needed more x-rays... a full body CT Scan... a urine sample... stitches... The list just kept growing. I was a nervous wreck. I paced my house trying to figure out what to do. I needed to be with my baby, but I was four hours away!

I prayed, contacted some of my closest prayer warriors, and of all things went and got on Facebook. Whoever was available to chat online, and who I knew could intercede on Baylee's behalf, I clicked on their name. I gave them a quick rundown of the situation and left the computer feeling better. Baylee was going to be alright. And no matter what happened to her, this accident didn't take God by surprise and He was still in control.

I needed to make arrangements for Bible study and, thankfully, Harriett was already planning on helping. She threw her three kids in her van and came over to get all my goodies. See?! My organization paid off! All I had to do was hand over my things.

Brandon finally made it home from work and we were off. I was nervous as Brandon took off. He went a little, umm, fast. I tried to encourage him to be careful, but he was in Daddy mode and needed to get to his baby. So I just prayed. We listened to 'Selah" and want to guess what the first two songs were? "It Is Well With My Soul" & "Be Still My Soul". Fitting? I think so.

When we finally arrived at the hospital Baylee was ready to leave. The doctor came back around and went over everything with Brandon and me. She looked rough and beat up, but she had the sweetest disposition. I had on a new shirt and the first thing Baylee said was "You look pretty, Mom". I mean, come on! How much more precious can it get?!

All in all she was able to walk away from something that could have been life threatening. She had no internal injuries and she didn't have a concussion. She has bumps and bruises all over, she bit through her bottom lip, she got 14 stitches under her chin, and she broke her arm. But she's here. Praise the Lord!

I'm thinking about investing in a bubble for her to walk around in.

One week

Dearest Baylee,

It has been one week since your latest injury. A calm call from the nurse at school to inform me you had "fallen on the playground and had a busted lip" suddenly turned into "Hi, this is the nurse again, I think you should come look at this. If I was the Momma I'd want to see it". Well, sweet thing, you sure do know how to bust your lip open!

I promptly put my steam mop aside, applied a touch of mascara, sprayed some cherry blossom body splash on, and mosied on over to your school. I knew it had to be a pretty good bump, but I didn't know just how hard you had fallen. 

Bless your heart, you fell HARD! Seeing as your pinky was still casted, you used your left hand, your right elbow (keeping that cast from ever hitting the ground) and your MOUTH to brace your fall. It took three hours to stop the bleeding, but once I handed you one of Grandma Arnold's hanky, you were good to go. 

We only thought it ended there. Daddy came home that evening and took a good look at it. Poor you, all anyone can do is smile when they see your sweet, beat up little self. You're so cute even with all the injuries. He was concerned about your teeth so he called one of his buddies who happens to be a fantastic dentist. He worked you into his schedule the next day and went above and beyond to help you out. Turns out you knocked the front four top teeth loose! My, oh my! Soft food diet for you, he said! 

But here we are, a week later. You're in Branson now with Grandma and Grandpa, after spending some time at Grammy and Grampy's. Hopefully you've gotten all of these mishaps behind you and you can be on the road to recovery! And let's just pray sister doesn't follow in your footsteps. 

I love you, sweet baby girl. In fact, I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living my baby you'll be.

~Mommy

Well, at least she's observant...

While playing with her four favorite horses...

"Mom, all of my horses are boys."

"Well, Caylee, you're the one who names them and makes them horses. Make one a girl, if you want."

"No, Mom, I can't. They already come as boys."

"Aww, now Caylee, you can make them whatever you want."

"No, I can't. When you look underneath them, they're boys."

And so she continued to play with her four favorite, obviously BOY, horses.

Cerneia (I have no idea how to spell such a made up name), Titan, Samson, and Bruce.

Sickness

You know in the dead of winter when a lot of moms are stuck inside with their sick kids? You know... the flu, strep throat, or if they're babies, RSV? I've had my fair share of those winters, but somehow we were beyond blessed this go round. All season long I kept thinking to myself, "Aww, poor them. They've got another sick kid. I'm so glad we're healthy". Or, get this. I even thought this a few times "Well, if she'd just let her kids get dirty every now and then and be exposed to some germs so her kid could let it's immune system do it's job, they wouldn't be at the doctor so much". Wow! Who did I think I was?! 

I got a nice dose of reality slapped in my face, that's for sure.

We made it through winter and were trudging right through spring when it hit us. The dreaded stomach bug. 

It was May 3, to be exact and Caylee was the lucky victim. Fever, vomit, diarrehea... she had it all. She was out of school three days and then was good as new. 

Usually when one girl gets something the other does too. But when it had been a few days I was feeling good about Baylee. Nope, I thought too soon. She had the same stuff and was out two days the following week.

I disinfected the house once both girls were back in school. We had track and field, the field trip, and were gearing up for the girls' spring musical at church. Grandparents were coming in and it was going to be a jammed packed weekend. I just didn't know how literally "jammed" it would be.

The musical at church was "Life School Musical". It was super cute, great message, and fun songs. They had dress rehearsal the Saturday morning before performance and needed to take their backpacks. We were already in the van when Brandon remembered to send the girls in to grab the backpacks. We're waiting patiently in the van talking about what all we need to get at the store while they're at practice when Bay comes out.

"Mom! I snubbed (the rest wasn't audible)..."

"You stubbed your toe? Oh, I'm sorry Baylee, that hurts!"

"No, my PINKY! AHHHHHH!!! MOM IT HURTS SO BAD!!!!!!!!!!"

And then I look back and see this.

Oh dear. That didn't look good. And it definitely looked more than another jammed finger. Apparently when Bay went running through the house to grab her backpack, she hit (and I mean HIT) her hand on the doorknob of the hall closet. Ouch! Thankfully, Brandon's parents were in and they were able to pick Caylee up from practice while we took Bay to the ER. 

That girl is such a trooper. She wailed and screamed (and had every right to do so) for most of the 20 minute drive. But as soon as she stepped foot on the hospital parking lot, she stopped crying and turned into this poised little girl. It was pretty incredible to watch. 

She, of course, had an x-ray and then the doctor came in. Here were his first words...

"Uh, has Baylee ever seen an orthopedist?"

Excuse me? Of course she hasn't! My mind immediately goes into overdrive thinking she has some rare bone disease.

He no more than finished his question and followed it up with "She has a salter-harris fracture on the growth plate. I don't feel comfortable setting it here, so I'm going to call Dr. Gordon and have him take a look on Monday."

Whew! Just a fracture. Only need an orthopedist because she's still a growing girl. Breathe, Cari.

Long story short, we take her to the orthopedist and he suggests we put her completely out to reset her pinky. It was headed in a 30 degree angle in the wrong direction!! Five days after the initial fracture my baby girl goes in for her very first "non-cutting surgery" (as we called it).

(This is at 5:45 a.m. waiting on Daddy to finish getting ready. She had to be at the hospital at 6:30 a.m.)

(Waiting until her surgery time. That's a temperature sticker on her forehead.)

I stayed home while Brandon took Bay in early and did all of the paperwork. I got Cay ready for school, dropped her off at a friend's house, and headed my way. If there was one thing I learned about myself in all of this, it's this - I'm not meant to live in a commuter town and work in the big city. I about stroked out several times dealing with rush hour traffic.

Anyway, the procedure itself only took 30 minutes or so and everything went beautifully. The doctor refractured her pinky and set it back in place. She has a temporary cast on until next week and hopefully she can get a waterproof cast when we go back for a check up. 

(Leaving the hospital and headed for On the Border!!)

So we might have sailed through the germy winter, but I'm ready for sickly May to be over and June to begin!!