Friday, March 02, 2007

3.1.07 4:36 pm

Happy March! You’ll never guess where we are right now. Go ahead – guess…

Okay, I’ll tell you: Detroit Metro, waiting for a flight to Florida! Who knew?? I sure didn’t!

So Angela calls me yesterday and asks if I would meet her for lunch. I didn’t think much of it at the time even though she RARELY does such invites. So she calls today just to make sure I would be there. Yup! I’ll be there. I may be late … but.

So I walk into Applebees, craining my neck to find Angela. Nope, don’t see her, but look, there’s David waving across the restaurant with a goofy grin on his face. I better go say hi, right? I get a little closer and notice he is sitting with Angela’s husband! I thought, David is copying me again! He knew I was coming and wanted to beat me to the punch. Brother!

So he invites me to sit down. No, I try and beg off. (I hate to crash a party!) Then he insists, “Sit!” Ok, I’ll just wait for Angela…

In she comes, blustery and confused. She uttered something about her friend dropping her off. What? Dropped you off? We are at the restaurant! Who was going to take her back?? I guess I will have a little longer lunch hour today.

Then, David pulls a drink from behind the ketchup holder – wa la! I thought it probably has a fly in it! Angela was still muttering something about her friend having to go get her kids – nope, she changed mid-sentence, she was just kidding. Kidding? About what part?? She tries to explain …

I become so thoroughly confused when suddenly it occurs to me that this might have been set up in advance – OH MY GOSH! THEY ARE GOING TO DO A BRITNEY ON ME!!! “Is this an intervention,” I ask???

THEN, from around the corner every single staff member comes to our table – OH – they are going to sing Happy Birthday to David Stevenson – his birthday is tomorrow! OH, it all makes sense now! This is a birthday party!!

But wait, no, the manager has a paper in her hand claiming that someone at the table is the 100,000 customer at the Applebee’s and has won a trip for four to Florida!


The catch? The flight leaves tonight at 5:30!!! WHAT???

The paper showed a trip for four to Florida…

SOOOOOOO, here we are… Florida bound…

Monday, February 26, 2007


Colt is laying in the floor of the bathroom with his pillow and blankets. He's been sick since yesterday about 5 pm when he went to bed with very little cajoling. We knew he was sick on that fact alone. He woke up around 4 am and hasn't returned to his bed since. Poor thing. Through it all, we have heard various comments from the cold floor of the bathroom. Once, he was talking to himself saying, "Don't throw up, Colton. Don't throw up." Around 10 am, he began screaming for food, as if we had him locked down in some cold, dark dungeon. When I explained that his stomach could not tolerate the food, he accused me of starving him. I really just sat there in disbelief.

I'm a bad Mom because I decided I would let him find out the hard way. I gave him some water, like a good jail guard would. I explained that he must drink it slowly because it is like his stomach is angry. It does not want anything in it for awhile. Of course, within a few minutes, he was sick again ... and apologizing to his angry stomach, "I'm sorry, stomach. I'm sorry." When David prayed over him, Colt suddenly turned very Pentecostal with "yes, Lord" responses to every thought uttered. If you could see the serious furrowed look on his face ... His Pentecostalism slips in at times like these. I remember another time when he was laying in his sick cell, begging God to "take me from my misery." He's never quiet. Every heave and hoe comes with a deliberate cry for help, "Please, someone comfort me!"

Parenting is hard. I've spent the last 24 hours wanting to scream from my own cell - and that was before Colt was sick. There is so much I do not know how to do, how to train, how to ingrain in their hearts and souls. I watch, I listen. I talk and explain. I just want them to be happy. When they are not, I want to clang my tin cup against the bars of my cell. It feels so hopeless after I feel like I have done so much.

My mother laughs at me. She feels some vengeful sense of God getting even. I wish she wouldn't. I'd rather have her help. David is mystified, claiming he doesn't care if they like him or, in essence, if they are happy. He thinks our job is beyond that. I told him if that is the case, I wished HE would get the brunt of their unhappiness then. I tried to explain that, in fact, he SHOULD get the brunt of it because he is the mean one in the house. Unfortunately, they never seem unhappy when he is around.

He looked at me the way I looked at Colt this morning when he accused me of starving him (NOT that I am like Colton!!).

I'm now thinking I'll go shave my head and get a tattoo. That will teach 'em all!