Escape Plan

Life has been one wild ride as of late. The trip to Disneyland was magical. 80 degrees and sun filled skies. Happy & adventurous children. Lots of laughter. Loads of fun. Tasty treats. I relished it all. On our last night at Disneyland (after a fabulous dinner shared with two of my cool, smart 20 something cousins, Rhea and Sienna and fabulous Aunt Cyn) we went back into the park.


We rode ride after ride. As we would ascend the hill on the Thunder Mountain railroad roller coaster I would close my eyes and truly escape preparing for the giant dip.


Audrey taught me how to do it earlier in the day on the King Triton Carousel. "Mama, close your eyes. Put your head back and be free."


I could not recall the last time I was so happy. And free.


Last Monday night we returned home. Back to normalcy--school, work, organizing the kids classroom Valentine's Day party, sending out thank you cards, Valentine greetings and birthday gifts, proposals for new clients and projects for current ones, rushing to piano pick-up and gymnastics drop-off, afternoon client TV and radio gigs, coordinating babysitters and car rides for the girls, grocery runs--the usual busy-ness of life. Thrown in was the fact that Fribble stopped walking (literally), Audrey was accepted into the district's highly capable program which is a blessing but leaves us with many questions as to send her or not (and if not--where should she go to school?).


But most of all in the midst of it all little Audrey woke up several mornings vomiting. 4 times to be exact since mid-January. Not just a little spit up but major vomiting. Repeatedly. Until her belly is completely empty.


And then she would be fine.


Stumped, I googled it. Childhood brain tumors are apparently key symptoms to early morning vomiting. I panicked. Full fledge-back to living in fear-lost it.


Admittedly, I may have been too close to the flame which is why my mind went wild.


Truth be told--I have been reeling from my close friend Sheila's breast cancer diagnosis (and subsequent masectomy last Monday), I spent a decent length of time poolside with a family who was in Disney with Make-A-Wish (4 year old boy with cancer) and while at Disney the hotel pool lifeguard approached me as I was ready to take a plunge down the waterslide and told me, "God spoke to me that He is holding your family close in His heart." Seriously.


I did take Audrey to the doctor's office (the doctor who saw her happens to be married to an oncologist) and she was not worried. My dear, dear friend Sue (who is an internist) was not worried either. Based on the details I could provide they're both hopeful it's reflux/food related/timing of dinner & bedtime, etc.


On Saturday morning after it happened again with Audrey I pulled in to Target and parked in the spot next to her doctor. The one who delivered her and knows her best. Serendipity? Godsend regardless. She talked me through it some more and told me to STOP OBSESSSING.


The church sermon Sunday was all about turning EVERYTHING over to God as we are not capable of managing and handling and fixing all that is life. I'm trying. Breath by breath.


In the car on the way home from school yesterday I asked Audrey what she calls it when she closes her eyes on the carousel and puts her head back.
"No name, really. It's just something I do when I want to make something extra fun or really relaxing." she replied.


"Sounds to me like an Escape Plan." Olivia commented.


Right on. Works for me.