Snow Days, Heart Attacks, and a Heart Tree, oh my!

So, the day started off with my #1son and #1daughter bouncing into the room in a dozen and one choruses of "Mommy!!!!" At 7:30am. On a Saturday. Don't these kids know after 7 and 4 years respectively that Mommy needs her sleep on weekends? But of course the early bird chorus was justified in the fact that there was (near as I can tell) 12 inches of snow on the ground.

Side note, you gotta love this global warming problem we're having here. :)

So, it's off to the races. Snow pants, snow suits, gloves, socks, snow boots, hats, coats. Bundle, bundle, and off they go! Normally I would bundle myself and join in the frosty merriment, but moments later I receive a call from my stepmother.

It appears that my #1Dad, age 57, has been taken by ambulance (on this newly fallen 12 inches of uncleared-from-the-road snow, mind you) to the hospital for a heart attack. Or at least that is what is suspected at the moment. Fear of loss grips me, as I reel at the thought of my #1Dad, my daddy, possibly leaving this world for a better one. I surpress the tears as the details are given, which are few at this moment in time.

I wave my #1Husband inside from snow shoveling and, moments after hanging up, I collapse into him in a sea of tears. He reassures me as best he can, and after a minute or so, I collect myself and pocket my feelings for the time being.

Now my #1daughter has decided that she has had enough of loose socks in oversized snow boots, not to mention being cold, and retires to her room for some demolition also known as playing with her toys.

Luckily, #1son has found his 'hoodlums, also known as "the boys" next door ages 2, 4, 9, and 4. So, he goes off to sled with them, leaving me with just one to worry with at home. About 2 hours pass, in which time I busy myself with laundry and periodical calls and texts from friends who have heard "the news." The phone rings again, and without looking I answer it.

The voice on the other end took me off guard- it was my dad. As soon as he says hello I break down into tears. He is confused as to why I am crying, and I inform him that it's because he is AT THE HOSPITAL for a possible HEART ATTACK. He explains that he is fine, and that I should not be so worried. They will keep him overnight for observation, and although they have not confirmed that he has had a heart attack, they have not ruled it out either.

So, I am somewhat comforted. It was good to hear his voice, and he sounded quite normal. Later in the day when #1son returns from his hoodlum-isms, I have he and #1 daughter to call the hospital room where #1dad is to stay the night and talk to him. This no doubt "did his heart good."

So now, as the sun is gone from the sky, #1son has returned to the frozen hood with "the boys" for some night sledding. I can only hope it does not end with a trip to the ER for us, as hoodlum-ing can do sometimes.

To conclude, I will end on a light note. I am somewhat ashamed to say that one prelit Christmas tree remains in our house. It stands in the dining room, and the reason it has not been packed away is because the box was destroyed. I have been meaning to get a new box from a "big box store," but just haven't gotten around to it. So I thought it would be fun to hang some Valentines on the tree and make it a "Heart Tree." So last night we took a stack of red-paper lace doilies (of old-fashioned Valentine repute,) and hung them all over the tree, along with 2 strands of "Valentine garland." Voila- a festive Valentine "Heart" tree.

P.S. Who knew the Valentine "Heart" tree would become symbolic of my #1dad's current condition. As I type this, confirmation has just arrived that he indeed did have a heart attack. Each time I look at our "Heart Tree" I will think of my #1dad, and pray for his health and healing. Your prayers are also encouraged and appreciated.

Going vegan....

So I began 2010 by going on a 21 day fast, similar to last year's Daniel Fast but without the exclusion of caffeine (hey I'm a mom, I need my Coke Zero and coffee!) Anyway, the fast ended on Thursday, and I must say that I honestly enjoyed everything I ate (lots of veggies, fruits, and whole grains...no bread, meats, dairy, eggs.) However, trying to integrate what was once "normal foods" has proven to be somewhat difficult. The mind is willing, the body is putting up a fight. It started when I tried to have a yogurt with some granola for lunch on Friday. Harmless enough right? Not a Big Mac or a steak, just a low-cal yogurt. But boy, was I queasy. Later that evening I tried to eat some chicken tortilla soup. YUCK. Tasted terrible. Saturday I had cereal, something I had not had in 3 weeks. Here comes the queasy again. Lunch was chicken noodle soup, which was okay...hey maybe I'm turning the corner. Dinner was calabash seafood. Shane is surprised as I hungrily eat my flounder and oysters. The rest of the evening is uneventful, and I think we are finally in the clear. But alas, today's eggs, grits, and latte are sitting in my belly and talking to me in a not-so-nice way.
I never intended this fast to become a lifestyle, and I don't want to be "that girl" at dinner parties and in restaurants who can't eat anything because she's VEGAN, but I really need to listen to my body right now. And it's NOT WORTH IT feeling like I'm going to puke just for the sake of eating "normal food." I am at a crossroads, to be or not to be...Vegan.