My Summer... so far.

Well Kane and I kicked summer off at the Wendell swim club.  The water was freezing and upon ignoring Kane altogether his fear collapsed to cautious bravery as he slipped beneath the water 3 times.  Yay for Kane.  Here's to a summer of learning to swim.  It wasn't until later that I discovered that while Kane is the debater of all things fun and/or necessary when it comes to water, Parker is the infamous (and fearless) "Flipper" from that '90's show about the crime-stopping dolphin.  Meanwhile, baby Colt is swimming in a sea of placenta and quite content to stay put (thanks for that darling..).
In the mean time we have ventured into the quest of dog-training with our youngest member of the family, Sascha the husky shepherd.  Leash walking on day one ended with me scratched, bleeding, and bruised from literally head to toe.  That puppy is bigger than a Smart Car.  She could eat me.  The plus is that 3 weeks later she is now able to walk on a leash and does well when there are no cats in her line of vision.  We have discovered, to our dismay, that when we leave our front door open to the protection of the storm door only, she is able to barge through the storm door (even when locked), and will go on a rampage in search of our cat Bell-a-bell.  Poor Bella, she has scaled trees and vanished in gutters to avoid the gnashing teeth of this car-like animal.  All in all, training is going quite well :o)
I also spent a week with the boys at my dad's place near Topsail Island.  We combed the beach every day and for me, it was a much needed period of isolation.  Sometimes the quiet fields of Verona, and the eternal love of my father are the only therapy I need to forget that raging battle of integrity inside me.

But the real highlight of the summer has been the legalities and compassion surrounding a family member with intense depression and his stint at the neuroscience facility in UNC Chapel Hill's hospital.

My parents divorced when I was a preschooler and my uncle moved in with my dad closely afterwards.  He never left.  In hindsight I noticed that he slept ridiculously long hours (or days) and never engaged much with me as a child.  But I loved him so severely that I cannot imagine what it would have been like to grow up without him in my home. I stayed at my dad's house on Thursdays and every Friday morning I woke up, made my bed ("Navy style" to suit my uncle's taste...though he dubbed a redo regardless), and went to the bathroom to find a treat of some sort on the counter.   If I couldn't sleep, we would do word puzzles together and watch TV drama.  If I left a mess of any kind he cleaned it up religiously.  I slept with "Little Foot" the stuffed animal from The Land Before Time until I was 18 and when I wasn't at my dad's... my uncle babysat him for me.  He even stitched him up once or twice.  My uncle had impeccable taste in design and bought home furnishings and furniture to change the look of my bedroom and bathroom.  I loved my uncle because he was consistent, reliable, predictable, and constant.  Yet there was a volatile imbalance in him that came with ironies and impulsiveness. And that was interesting to me too. I looked forward to those late nights when he arrived home from work (having always worked the night shift), when he would let me in on something he'd been pondering.  It could have been a brand new car, a speeding ticket, or new furnishings, but whatever it was, it was always so endearing to find him excited or emotional about something.  Something.  Anything.

He was involuntarily committed to UNC a little over a week ago.  He just didn't think he could go on and the reality of his threats to his life became too convincing.  I've visited almost everyday.  He's laid in a bed for 4 of them.   I saw no hope, I saw anger, sadness, frustration.  On that 2.5 hour daily round trip... I often think,  "Where are you?  Where is my constant?  I need you to get up and try."  Some days I just feel so small next to his big listless heart.  My dad and his twin brother came up to visit with him on Saturday after we listed his house on the market.  This momentous day meant much to our family as we gear up to move my uncle home to be with his brothers in Verona.  The nurses are reporting some activity on his part (finally), though he continues to be reluctant to face the day.  I witness to him daily, though I know he loves the Lord.  I read from the Bible... it's calming and lyrical sonnets.  I rub his back and tell him how much he is loved by so so so many people. 
It's not as if the signs weren't there all these years.  We all knew he had his struggles.  It certainly wasn't the first time he'd fallen into a deep depression.  His obsessive compulsive tendencies and anxiety were clear indicators.  Have you ever seen the show "Monk"?  Picture that guy with manic depression... working the night shift at a convenient store for 18 years.  You get the idea.  It took a non-family member to call the world to attention to my uncle's inner turmoil.  Some days I wish it were one of us that had realized he was beyond the help of the love of his family... that his conflicts ran too deep even for us.   I consider my family one of the strongest units on earth.  They are vast.  Their support runs deep and complete.  Among the many things I have learned from this, it's that my family is limitless in their collaboration to help.  Yes, we each have boundaries.... but the desire to support and raise up is flawless.  I think that is rare, and I know I've been blessed to have them.  I am beyond grateful that my children can say they are a part of of this particular family, and that they will know it actually means something enduring... something bigger than themselves.  And I pray that my uncle will find strength in God's sufficient and perfect power to reveal purpose to his life.

...but just to add to that because I like having the last word...  my favorite part was watching all those kids playing on the trampoline, squirting their parents in the eyeballs with spray bottles, catching Xander and Parker as they dove down the slide, endlessly fetching escaped bouncy balls from the trampoline,  listening to bluegrass, and devouring Connie's cake.  Thanks Kane.  All you ever have to do is be you, and it gives me an unparallelled peace in God's plan (no matter the "storm").

Happy Birthday My Son!

OK so I'm still a day early but today was great! We woke up early this morning or rather Shannon woke up, then Kane woke up, then Kane woke Daddy up. After the normal running around the house to get the boys dressed and fed, get the dogs fed, get the boy's shoes on, tell Shannon to hurry up in the bathroom, listen to Shannon say how tired she is of me picking on her about getting ready in the morning, eat some cereal, down a second cup of coffee, get dressed, oh and feed the cat we finally made it off to church. Church was great as usual, good sermon, good fellowship and good worship. Pastor Ed spoke of the fact that we all will face storms in life and must persevere through them to become better Christians. After the sermon and Sunday School it's back to the homestead for the finishing touches before Kane's Birthday Party. For my part that included poop patrol, tiki torch installation, trash pickup in the yard, Shannon insisted I spray down the dry dirt in the backyard so it wasn't so dusty, water the garden, harvest today's yield(yes I believe myself to be a farmer), clean up the shed a little better in case someone from church wants to look in there(who says guy's don't care what their shed looks like), relocate the crate upstairs to safely stash the youngest dog, place sheets over the bed for the 2nd dog to not ruin my comforter and finally sit down on the back porch with Shannon for five minutes before family shows up. I forgot, go get more propane for the grill in case we need it. Despite all the preparations today was great. Kane immensely enjoyed his trampoline as well as all his gifts and company. Thank you to all that graced us with your company and to my beautiful wife for all her hard work in setting up. More then anything thank you God for such a beautiful almost four year old still my baby boy. God has truly given us ups and downs with this one from cleft lip repairs to plunges off the back of an old truck, potty training to not wanting Dad's help on the potty, speech therapy to being called by the sitter "her little Debater", a shy child who won't say hello to a child who ask me daily when he's going back to school and who by the grace of the Lord has more Bible verses memorized then I do though I hesitate in revealing that. Son if you read this one day know that in four years you have made more proud of you then I ever knew was possible. Keep God in your heart and faith on your mind with hope in your soul and always love your life as much I see you do now and you'll be truly blessed and so will I.

Josh and I are expecting Jackson "Colt" to arrive around the first of November... making him our 3rd boy and expanding our family to FIVE.  Josh came up with the name in the waiting area at the OB after we saw the ultrasound.  This kid was all over the place... twisting and turning in my belly like a little pistol.  Hence the name :o)  "Jackson" is short for Jacksonville (home of the Phillips family).  "Colt" is for Josh's latest gun hobby.  And in typical Ferrell fashion, we'll call him Colt to follow suit with Joshua "Kane" (baby Ferrell #1) and John "Parker" (baby Ferrell #2).

So welcome  to the fam little man.  You've got 3 huge dogs, a cat, 2 brothers, and a daddy and a mommy that can't wait for your B day!

Best Day Ever!

Happy 28 to me and Josh!  I love even numbers.  This year we stayed up til 12:34 on the 20th, the minute I was born.  OK that's actually a big fat lie.  I fell asleep at 11 and Josh woke me up to say "Happy Birthday!" and "Go to bed" at 12:34. I think that's a sign of age because I've never not stayed up until 12:34 since I was about 10 years old and found my baby book under my mom's bed...complete with dust bunnies and a lock of fine brown hair.  How cute, right?  I worked on my birthday.  Oh the joy...but I did get out early to do a little shopping for Josh from the alphabet store and select retailers.  So we stayed up until midnight again, long enough for me to repeatedly chant "It's still my birthday" for 59 seconds at 11:59.  We woke up Tuesday and dropped off the kids at their respective destinations, returned home for coffee and packed for the range.  After a quick stop at Perry's, I signed my life away at Eagle 1 and practiced loading and shooting a .22 and a 9mm for like 2hours.  WOW.  Talk about addiction.  I was one of those NO GUNS in the house ever people.  Hell bent on it, actually.  And then...I realized I can't protect my babies from harm 24/7/365 (or in this case 366).  I think they should be educated and exposed because God forbid they find themselves in a situation around "friends" or acquaintances with a gun and all they know is to "run" or "tell".  That doesn't work in real-life because it might already be too late and they won't know what to do.  Guess what?  That so happened to me.  I lived in a trailer park with my mom and she had a gun under her bed.  All she said was to stay away from it and put the fear of God into me.  That's all well and good until you find yourself in a house one day with a gun and you don't know how to tell if it's loaded, if the safety is on, what NOT to do, and what to definitely do.  And to be honest, no manner of teaching can relinquish learning on the reality and power of a gun until you see it and do it.  That's coming straight from the mouth of a teacher.  I can't tell you how many times Josh tried to teach me things or tell me things over the past 2 years.  Nothing sank in until I was in that range.  I flinched or jumped 3 ft every time a shot rang out.  I was so scared I was shaking for the first 30 minutes.  But the thing is... everybody in there was in control.  Guns don't kill people.  People kill people.
We went to Sono on Fayettville St.  for lunch.  I had the Pink Floyd and the Monkey Brain roll  :o)  and we people-watched those in suites with reservations.  We had coffee at Crema and went shopping at Khol's and Dick's.  We picked up the boys and came home to eat slow cooked stroganoff and chocolate cake with chocolate icing, and topped it all off with the game and a bottle of FireFly and lemonade.  Happy 28 baby, I want 75 more!  I love the way you make me laugh, the way you try new things, the way you watch me do yoga, and the way we stay up past our bedtime just to spend one more hour together  (even when you are reading Damn You Auto Correct and I am blogging).  I love you til the end of forever.      

And So It Goes

Josh got the 5th mouse today.  That's all I have to say about that.  I am editing away on Boards and loving Apples of Gold, Parker is WALKING and TALKING (dada, daddy, mama, mommy, doggy, no, uh oh, bye bye), Kane has memorized 13 verses of scripture, and Josh is downstairs fixing the dryer...again.
Last night we prayed for a good week.  The stress skews everything that Josh says lately.  I get cyclical in my communication patterns.  I am trying very hard to keep in mind that prayer for the most explicit requests warrants consideration.  Ugh.
I would really like spring break to put on some wheels and pedal faster.  The good news?  There are 78 days left.  Crunch!

My intern took over and I'm feeling a little less stressed, a little, and right now Letterman is doing his segment on Get to Know the Candidates, which I'm kinda diggin. 

Currently reading: The Hitman's Guide to Housecleaning by Hallgrimur Helgason
Just Finished: Stieg Larsson's The Girl Who... trilogy. 
Thoughts: Hmm.  When Stieg wrote, he included the characters' mundane daily activities or thoughts that basically made you feel like you were right there with them or living vicariously. I decidedly like the style. Hitman is full of foul language and innuendos.  It's a humorous read, mostly because a hitman murders a pastor and then has to fill his shoes for a stint in Iceland.  So far, so good. 

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday John Parker

Indeed a big blur.  I woke up with yet another splitting headache...not sure if it was due to the NCSU pre-gaming beverages (sadness!  I practically passed out before it even began!)  or the lack of blood flow in my head...also due to way too many cold ones and late nights recently.  We have been going strong daily (and nightly) since Friday, the 23rd with no end in sight.  Note: Drink more water, eat more bread, do more yoga.

But tonight was exceptional for one reason only.

Parker was born with jet black hair, a V-bac, risky birth, at noon on the dot, this day 2010.  Unlike Kane, they placed him in my arms right after I pushed for the last time, and he looked up at me with the biggest and brightest, most hopeful eyes I have ever made contact with in my life.  My God, he was perfect, angelic, and astonishing.  Today he has a mess of scraggly dirty blond hair, wide world eyes, and the best laugh a baby could possibly have.  He still manages to stir my soul with a single look.

Tonight we celebrated with frozen pizza, overly large balloons hanging from the ceiling, a richly designed cake, a handful of good friends and family (whom I always seem to call at the last minute when I put off making extravagant plans), and a boat load of napkins.  It's too bad his birthday falls in the winter... we could have more easily sprayed him down in the backyard like we did with Kane.   On the way home I  found myself driving behind a Jeep with one of those Life is Good stickers plastered on the rear window and I laughed (like out loud) because it's true.  Life is good.