A few months ago when Caroline started walking, I was hit with the realization that my baby was no longer a baby. She was a toddler!
That thought was then followed with, “Wait. If Caroline’s a toddler, then what’s Brooke?!” All this time, I’ve just still considered her a toddler. Turns out “preschooler” is the correct word now.
I am doing a co-op preschool with three other moms in my neighborhood. It’s been going for a month. Brooke LOVES preschool days.
I taught the first week. I had so much fun reconnecting with the inner schoolteacher in me and planning activities for the kids. My favorite part of preschool is when Brooke would refer to me as “teacher”. This was especially amusing because she was the only kid who called me that!
A few weeks ago I was invited to a bridal shower. I have met the bride once or twice, but I don’t really know her. As I was shopping for a gift to take to the shower I thought to myself, “Why am I getting her a gift? This seems silly. I don’t even know this girl.”
However, I thought back to when I was getting married. Some of my mother’s friends in her ward threw me a shower. I had probably only met two of the women before, and the rest were strangers to me. They knew my mom and were happy to support her and me in my upcoming marriage. Those women were so generous, and Dallas and I were grateful for the items we received.
I realized I felt the same way about this girl. Though I don’t really know her, I do know her mother, and I love her mother. I was happy to spend a few bucks to help this girl start a new chapter in her life as a wife. Strangers had done the same thing for me when I was a new bride with nothing; it was my turn to return the favor.
My thoughts then turned to my friend, Ann. We were on the same floor freshman year at BYU. We lost touch after that, but the blogging world has reunited us! Ann is a busy wife and mother to five (FIVE!) lovely girls. She has taken an interest in the war that is occurring right now in the Congo. No, she hasn’t just taken an interest in it, she’s actively working to help women in the Congo who are suffering.
Here are some facts she just posted on her blog:
This is the deadliest war since WWII, and also the most ignored.
5.4 million dead as of January 2008, with 45,000 more continuing to die each month. (That’s a September 11th every 2.5 days.)
Innocent women are used as weapons in this war: warring militias compete to be the most brutal, and thus the most feared.
Thousands of women (ranging from ages 3-80) are gang raped each month.
Women are forced to watch as family members are kidnapped and killed.
Ann has also posted links to articles that describe the conditions these women are facing. It’s horrible. So horrible that sometimes I can’t even finish the article because I feel so sick inside.
Ann is sponsoring a fundraiser called Yoga for Congo Women. Again, from her website:
100% of the proceeds will go towards sponsoring Congolese women survivors through Women for Women International. Women for Women is an established and well-vetted organization that works with women survivors of war world-wide. They provide:
emotional assistance to heal from the trauma they have been through
rights and health awareness training
literacy training
skill-specific training, including business management
seed money to start her own small business upon completion of the one-year program
Though we don’t have a lot, Dallas and I decided that we would donate some money to this cause. I love Ann. I want to support an old friend in this worthy endeavor. I also find myself wanting to help the women in the Congo whose lives have been shattered – women that I don’t know, but women who need help starting a new life. We can’t do a lot, but we can do something.
I know many of our blog readers are just as poor as we are, and there are many deserving causes that you could spend your money on, but perhaps you will find your way over to Ann’s Yoga for Congo Women page and learn more about how you can help.
I never really know if the gifts I give to new brides are useful to them; at least I know this is one gift that will be cherished by the woman who benefits from our small donation.
Last Monday was one of the craziest days we’ve had in a while. Allow me to elaborate.Â
(Whoa. I just finished typing this and it’s kind of long. This means by brother, Abe, likely won’t be reading. The day involved toilet water, a rainstorm, and lots of blood. Does that make you want to keep reading?)
As we were getting ready in the morning, I heard dripping. I soon saw that water was dripping through the ceiling in our hall. This has happened once before when we first moved in. Our neighbor’s toilet overflowed in the middle of the night, flooded her bathroom, and dripped down to us. We suspected the same thing had happened this time.
I called our neighbor who was 30 minutes away. She hurried home and we inspected her bathroom. There was some water in it, but not a large amount. Then we noticed that she had water dripping through her ceiling. So we trekked upstairs to our third floor neighbor. We woke him up and he went to check his bathroom.  A few minutes later he came out and exclaimed that his bathroom was totally flooded. At least we figured out the cause of that problem. I’m not sure I want to know what kind of water damage we may have between our floors.
I went off to a meeting and when I got back, Dallas was loading the girls in the car for a picnic in the canyon. He had a hankering to commune with nature. We drove to Bridal Veil Falls, enjoyed a pleasant picnic, watched the girls play in the water, and started walking up the trail. However, storm clouds rolled in and cut the walk short. Dallas wanted to keep walking, but I didn’t want to get stuck further from our car in a rainstorm.
As we were heading back to the car, Brooke fell and scraped both knees. Crying ensued, as did a mad scramble to find a band-aid. Luckily, some fellow hikers had a band-aid they donated to our cause.
As we were driving home, Dallas insisted the storm was passing. He stopped at a park so Brooke could play. Between her scraped knees, the falling rain, and the blowing wind, not much playing happened. Finally, Dallas came to terms with the fact that his perfect afternoon in the mountains just wasn’t meant to be.
We went home. After naps and dinner, Dallas once again suggested a walk. The bad weather had passed, so I agreed. We decided to walk along the Provo River Trail until we got to one of the parks. Before we left, Dallas found the first-aid kit that is supposed to be in our car (but wasn’t) and he put it back in the car – just in case.
After a nice, 20-minute walk, Brooke spotted a playground and raced off. We watched her and Caroline swing and slide and were just about to admit to each other that the day wasn’t a total loss – we were able to have a nice time outside after all – when Brooke fell off a little ladder and hit the back of her head on one of the metal rungs.
Dallas immediately scooped her up and started comforting her. I packed Caroline up in the stroller and turned around to talk to Brooke. It was then that I saw blood running down her hair and staining her shirt. Some guy at the park offered us a piece of gauze to staunch the bleeding. We took it and held it to her head. We couldn’t really see the injury because her hair was in the way, and it was all matted with blood. Of course, we had our first-aid kit waiting for us in the car – the car that was about 20 minutes away. Curses!
We began walking back to the car. By this time, the gauze was completely soaked and all of our clothes had blood splatters, but Brooke had calmed down a bit. It was then that she looked at her hands and saw they had blood all over them. Another explosion of tears and sobs erupted from her.
We rounded the bend and came upon a fire station. Dallas said that we should go in and ask them for help. I didn’t know if this kind of thing was allowed, just traipsing into a fire station asking for medical advice, but why not? Fire fighters are in the business of helping citizens, and we sure needed help!
We rang the doorbell and they buzzed us in. A fireman took one look at all of us soaking in blood and asked what had happened. We explained the situation and asked if we could wash up a little bit. He took us to a fire truck and called another fire fighter in to help us. They washed off Brooke’s head (and hands!) and tried to see what was happening. They said that it looked like the bleeding had stopped, so they didn’t think stitches were needed. However, they recommended that we take Brooke to the ER to check for head injuries. One fireman said his son did a similar thing and they thought he was going to be okay, but it turned out he had fractured his skull. That wasn’t exactly the kind of story I wanted to hear at the moment.
So, now we needed to get to the hospital and our car was still a mile away. The firemen offered to drive us, but we didn’t really want the price tag that came along with a lift from them. The hospital was actually only a block or two away, so we decided to just walk straight there.
As we were walking to the ER, Dallas saw an InstaCare. He suggested going there, thinking that it would be less expensive to go to an InstaCare than the ER. We decided to try it. We entered the office and I’m sure we were a sight to behold. Caroline was screaming in the stroller (by this time it was WAY past her bedtime), Brooke was sniffling, and there was a smattering of blood all over us, just for good measure.
We related our story, and they said they could help us there. Luckily, there was only one other man ahead of us, so we were seen quickly. Dallas took Caroline to go get the car while I took Brooke in to see the doctor. After cleaning her up a little more, I was able to see what was happening in the back of her head. She had a huge goose egg and a slit where the blood had been coming out. He tugged a little on it and said that he didn’t think staples or stitches were necessary. I was SO GLAD we avoided stitches. I’m sure Brooke was too. He checked her balance and her eyes and said that she didn’t seem to have a concussion, so he sent us on our way with instructions to wake her up once in the night.
After baths, putting the girls to bed, and doing a load of laundry, Dallas and I were more than ready to fall into bed ourselves and put an end to our unlucky day.
The preschooler in her BYU blue
The toddler giving a cheesy grin
