Wheelbarrow

With Scott off work, our yard work extravaganza continued yesterday. We were able to get rid of the leaves in the yard and in our flowerbeds, which is no small feat considering that we live in the woods. While Scott was mowing the leaves the boys and I prepared for winter by swapping the outdoor summer toys for our winter sleds.

With our wheelbarrow filled with 100 pounds of potatoes covered in straw, I walked over and asked Mr. Bill if his was available to borrow. He choked up and I saw his eyes start to tear as he said, "Yes Buddy. This is how we started, do you remember?"  

Mr. Bill and I became friends when he brought me his wheelbarrow to use so many years ago. He was watching a toddler Robby and I fill a snow sled with mulch. He gathered up his wheelbarrow and pitchfork and came into our yard.  He took the pitchfork and picked up mulch, putting it into the wheelbarrow before looking at me and saying, "Work smarter, not harder."  

At the time I wasn't sure what to make of the elderly man, but I was grateful for his offer to lend his tools. Robby and I finished the mulch, cleaned out the wheelbarrow and returned it with a plate of cookies. Robby immediately took to the grumpy man, escaping into his yard to help whenever possible. 

As I was walking over to borrow the same wheelbarrow, only this time with Timmy in tow, I also remembered how he came into our lives. I was surprised at Mr. Bill's reaction to my request, I didn't think he remembered the day he came into our lives.  It is going to be hard to see him move away next month. I know that the neighborhood, and our family, will never be the same.

Stacking Wood

Yesterday I celebrated my 15th Walking Day. It is hard to believe that so much time has passed since that exciting day. In some ways, it feels like it could have happened last week, while at the same time it feels like a lifetime ago. When I think about the years I become overwhelmed, so I have decided to respect and honor the past by living my life to the fullest every day.

We celebrated my Walking Day by splitting and stacking an insane amount of wood. We worked most of the day, but we managed to split just about every tree segment that had been lining our driveway and those that were piled in our flowerbeds. It was hard work, but it was also fun having everybody help and participate.  Even Timmy got into the action by proudly carrying and handing me cut pieces of wood to be stacked.  

I'm incredibly sore this morning, but I am relieved that the log segments are gone and that we have ample firewood for the winter. There is no way I would have been able to help split the logs if I had not had my amputation. Perhaps there was no better way to honor my Walking Day than by doing an activity that would have been unattainable if I had not opted for an amputation so many years ago.

Walking Day!

Yesterday was my Dad's 71st birthday. I made it through the day without crying, but I certainly felt his absence. I miss him dearly. I was happy for bedtime because it meant that I had survived another milestone without my Dad. The sun came up this morning, and the heaviness of his loss has eased back to the normal level.

While yesterday was difficult, this weekend will be celebratory. Sunday marks my 15th Walking Day Anniversary. It is difficult to fathom that I took those first tentative steps so many years ago. When I close my eyes it feels like yesterday, yet I have had a lifetime of experiences since I became an amputee.  

We celebrate Walking Day in our family because it marks such an important milestone in my life. Scott may forget birthdays and wedding anniversaries, but he has never missed a Walking Day. Although I took the steps, the day means as much to him as it does to me. He was with me through the difficult recovery, and those first few steps solidified our belief that I was going to be okay.

Rumble at the Playground

Every Wednesday we drive Robby to class and Timmy and I play at the local park until he is finished. Going to the park has quickly become a highlight of his week. Playing with a buddy reigns supreme, so when no kids are present I am happy to fill the role. Yesterday the park was busy so I sat on a bench and watched from the sidelines. 

Part of playing with other kids is to not only have fun but also to learn how to navigate relationships.  Yesterday Timmy wasn't feeling fantastic, so he opted to quietly build a mulch castle on the perimeter of the play area. He worked for nearly 30 minutes building his masterpiece, complete with stick flags and a sand moat. He was proud of his creation, fetching me several times throughout the construction process to admire his work.  

While he was working on adding some height another little boy came over to him. I heard the interaction, but I decided to not intervene. The little boy said that he was going to smash the tower. Timmy immediately said no. The boy, with complete disregard to Timmy's wishes, proceeded to stomp all over the castle.

I saw Timmy's face morph from joy to devastation in record time. As the little boy kicked the remnants of the castle around the playground, Timmy became irate.  He grabbed a handful of mulch and threw it onto the boy.

With a flash, the other mom swooped in and swatted Timmy on the bottom. I lept from my perch and picked up Timmy, comforting him from both his castle destruction and being hit by a stranger. I looked at the woman and snapped, "Don't ever touch my kid."

She looked indignant and replied, "Your son threw mulch all over him. When I see somebody throw mulch on my child, my first reaction is to swat." 

I didn't address the fact that her little angel needlessly and gleefully stomped Timmy's castle. Instead, I took a step towards her, overwhelming her personal space. I put Timmy down and looked directly into her eyes. I was livid. 

"When I see an adult hit my child, my reaction is a lot stronger than a swat. Keep your hands off my kid, or you will get hurt."  I glared into her eyes as she quietly took her son's hand and backed away.

In full disclosure, I have never been in a physical fight. I am not a violent person, and I always lean towards communication instead of violence. But this lady hit my child, and with that, all rules are out the window.  

I'm fairly certain I would break my hands, wrists and probably a multitude of other bones if I had actually tried to hit her. I was rolling the dice that this lady could be intimidated.  Thankfully I was right.  

Eat the Cookie

It is the day after the midterm election, and I could not be happier! Results notwithstanding, I am delighted we will be afforded a break from the nasty political scene. Magically all of the commercials have switched from fear-filled nasty rhetoric to snowmen, cookies and holiday joy. 

I wonder if the spite-filled and toxic nature of our politicians and their followers would change if we, as a society, concentrated more on the messages streamed in holiday commercials instead of investing our mental energies into those during the election.  Either way, I'm soaking up every moment of the season, because before I am ready the commercials will again change from being happy and eat-the-cookie to go on a diet and you need to improve.

Today I am in Pennsylvania so that I can take my Mom to her surgeon for a follow-up. Last night I went on a grocery shopping spree, setting her and the kids up with food and treats for the next few weeks. After two weeks of not being able to drive, her shelves were becoming sparse. 

Thankfully my mom is getting around better and is feeling less pain every day. Even though she is improving, I worry that she is going to overdo it.  She is stubborn and is doing more than she probably should do, but there is absolutely no stopping her when she gets her mind set on something.  (If you were to ask Scott I am sure he would describe me in a similar way.)

After Mom's appointment, I need to drive back to Virginia so that Robby can make his app building class in time. I wish I could stay longer, but this is a busy week with classes, appointments, and meetings. 

Vote

Happy Election Day!

I'm looking forward to the cessation of the vile political ads that have been streaming nonstop since summer. I have found it hard to remain optimistic and happy with the constant stream of attacks and lies bombarding me through every possible platform. No wonder there is so much negativity and anger in our culture!

I have voted in every election since I became eligible at age 18. I remember driving home from college to cast my ballot, and mailing my ballot when I was attending Michigan State. Robby and Timmy have both accompanied me to every election, regardless of the weather or situation. Robby is old enough to understand the importance of casting a ballot, and he has the appreciation that every voice and every vote matters. Timmy is too young to comprehend, and he is simply happy to get a new sticker.  

After I vote today I will be heading up to PA so that my Mom can cast her ballot. She has a doctor's appointment tomorrow to have the staples removed from her knee. I know that she is looking forward to increased mobility and getting rid of the uncomfortable pulling from the staples. Hopefully, this will be another step towards healing. I know that she is frustrated with both the pain and the limited mobility since the surgery.  

Go vote!

Cleaning to Escape

I spent the weekend cleaning the house and purging the kids' rooms. After working nonstop on all day Saturday and on Sunday morning I decided to stop for the time being. When everything was done, I ended up with nine black contractor trash bags filled to the top with items for donation. My house looks less cluttered, and my heart is happy knowing that some other kiddos will be able to enjoy the outgrown toys and clothes.  

I always become melancholy when I'm purging the kids' rooms. Sorting through the clothes, determining if it still fits or if it has been outgrown, is a concrete reminder of how both kiddos have grown. It is particularly hard with Timmy because he is my baby. Even though the task always makes me sad when I'm doing it, I am always happy when the rooms are clean and the items are donated. 

My motivation for cleaning wasn't limited to wanting to declutter the house. I was also eager for a distraction from the constant stream of bad news and vile political ads on television. I cranked up the Christmas music, sang loudly and actually had a great time sorting and cleaning. Being unplugged from the last-minute push of political commercials was enough payment for my efforts!

I am looking forward to waking up on Wednesday morning when the commercials will magically switch from hate-filled rhetoric to those advertising cookies, treats, toys and other accouterments required for the idyllic holiday. This election season has been both long and vile.