The Best Sushi I Ever Ate!

No...it's not Whitney writing this one. All my guy friends keep nagging me to blog more, so here goes. Actually...I just couldn't resist being the one to share this story.

So you either love sushi, or you don't, or you fall into my 3rd category: you've never had sushi but tell everyone you don't like it because you don't think you will. Now if you love sushi, then the combination of this blog title and picture probably have you scared. I'm no connoisseur by any means, but even I know that sushi packaged like this CAN'T be the best you've ever eaten. That's what I thought too!

The volunteer at the desk at St. Vincent's waiting room told us Chase's surgery would last about 2 hours. I took a book. We had the IPod with us. Cell phones for texting. But neither of us could sit very still. It was mid morning, and we decided to do what comes naturally during anxious, worrisome, stressful times.....eat! We quickly cased out the cafeteria and were finally greeted at the pizza counter by Rochelle, who was serving up mini breakfast pizzas. She and Whitney exchanged warm smiles and friendly conversation about our son in surgery and our need for "comfort food". I had previously noticed that the sushi chef was fixing up sushi rolls like those seen in the picture above and, being a skeptic, I decided to get an opinion straight from the staff. Rochelle said the sushi was pretty good and made fresh every morning. Without giving it a second thought, she asked if I wanted to try some. Now you're talking! I'm thinking a free sample or maybe a complimentary cafeteria voucher, and I jump on the opportunity. Rochelle walked us over to the counter and asked me to pick one out. I did. Then she asked me to pick another one. Hey, why not, it's on the hospital, right!?! She takes both containers over to the checkout, and before I can process what's happening, she whips out her employee ID and payroll deducts $15 worth of sushi to 2 complete strangers from the surgery waiting room. Whitney and I immediately tried to fix this little "dilemma" by offering her cash. She wouldn't have it, and just laughed and scolded us for trying to steal her joy. We made our way over to a table to eat and Rochelle left us for her breakfast pizza station.

As for the sushi, it didn't taste as good as I hoped or as bad as I figured. But we couldn't stop eating it. A couple of times I had to take a big drink just to keep my composure. Whitney and I couldn't stop talking about what happened. We wanted to repay her somehow, but knew that our role was to receive this random act of kindness. Before we left the cafeteria, we went back to Rochelle's counter for one last thank you, and to let her know we were committed to paying it forward.

I don't know what was at the core of Rochelle's random act of kindness that day. Our relationship didn't last long enough to find out. She could never afford to treat every customer that way. So why us? Why me? It didn't calculate, and it was hard to receive. I'm not used to this sort of thing, and it made me remember the humility required to receive the gift of grace from God. The stakes were higher with salvation, but the humility was the same. I like to think Jesus made her do it. That she couldn't stand to let the opportunity pass her by to show the love of Christ to someone, even a complete stranger. That's what Jesus does, you know! We simply walk up to Him and He extends his love to us whether we deserve it or not, whether we ask for it or not, whether we want Him to or not. Thanks, Rochelle, for reminding me what Christmas is all about.

I've had lots of tasty sushi in my life, but this was by far the best sushi I've ever eaten. We celebrate the birth of the Saviour of the world tomorrow. Show someone today why he came!

Christmas tree farm tradition, take ten...

Bob Evans, and then to the Christmas tree farm. A ten year tradition, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health...

This year, I only had to cut up one kid's breakfast, and the boys hauled the tree back to the tractor all by themselves.

Merry Christmas to me. :)

Card duty...

The boys' school took a great approach to a fund-raising effort to benefit our local Lion's Club (whose members give their time and resources generously to the school!). Instead of a class gift exchange, the teachers encouraged each student to ask their parents how they might earn a small amount of money to donate to the organization's building repair fund.

Because my mom-scheming skills are getting sharper by the year - ha! - Jack and Trey earned their money by helping fold, stuff, stamp and sticker our Christmas cards. Turns out little Daugherty boys grow up to be slightly OCD, just like both of their parents. :) Two boys who initially gave me a "seriously, Mom?" look ended up having a ball working together and chatting the night away. I love nights like these. And so do they.

If they try to tell you otherwise, don't you dare listen to them. :)

Juggling...

This is Chase's depiction of me juggling life as a mom. No one tells him to draw stuff like this; his little five year old mind is just as honest as it gets. Apparently we moms must multi-task or something, and we also have go-go-Gadget arms that help us do a hundred things at once. He knows me well to include a phone, my cup of chai, an apple, a bowl of cereal, homework, my Bible, and a handful of kids. He just forgot to draw the three year old hanging on my leg. And thank goodness he threw a couple of hearts in, or else I would really start to get worried.

Tess spilled her milk the other day, and Chase said, "Geesh, kids sure do make a lot of stress," just like he wasn't a kid, and just like he'd never in his life caused his parents any grief. Funny kid.

December means lots of extra juggling as a mom. Throw in four kids on constant sugar highs, a surgery and an excited nine year old's birthday and you're almost done for. But I sure don't want the only thing my kids to remember about the holidays growing up is a stressed out mom who over-committed to lots of good things, but forgot to focus on what was best. I don't want to be known for hangups like hanging the ornaments by myself so they'll be perfectly spaced, or shooing eager children out of the kitchen so they don't mess up my perfectly decorated sugar cookies (which get eaten in like ten seconds anyway).

There will be plenty of years when my children are gone to choose all white lights to elegantly decorate my entire house. But for now, they want some fun color mixed in. Who can blame them, really? And for crying out loud, the world will not come to an end if they insist on rearranging the Nativity a hundred times a day, confiscating baby Jesus to ride in the Batmobile or keep them company while they sit on the potty.

It's sort of a compliment if you think about it, and Jesus is everywhere anyway, right?

I'm pretty sure my kids don't care if I can tie a cool bow on a package, or if their teacher's gift was the coolest in the class. But they sure do love it when I sit down beside them and we enjoy our cups of hot chocolate together (they MUST include a heaping pile of whip cream, sprinkles, and a candy cane hung on the cup's rim) at random moments in the day (when I often tell myself I should be doing something productive... hmm).

I want them to experience more than a juggling mom this Christmas. I want them to see Jesus in me as I humbly serve. I want them to hear Jesus, as we tell the story of His birth, and as we worship Him for coming to save a broken world. I want them to feel Jesus' love as we say no to just enough stuff so that we can surround them with ours.

And Mary said:

"My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit rejoices in God my savior." Luke 1:47

Adventures in Urology...

I know it's titles like these that keep you coming back for more. Ha. And you know it's an extra creative night when I combine Fall pictures with fascinating urology talk. Hey, I like to keep you on your toes (or, it's just been a really long day). Since I'm not known for blog consistency lately, at least I can get some points for efficiency, right?

Yeah, that's it.

Hey, just be glad that I'm sharing old Fall pics instead of urology ones. :)

So we're a pretty popular family in the Pediatric Urology Department at St. Vincent Hospital in Indianapolis. You might remember that Jack and Tess were born with a genetic condition called urinary reflux. We spent several years following up with Jack's bladder and kidney health, until he finally had surgery to correct his reflux in 2005. With each baby, we thought we might encounter the reflux again (all of our kids statistically have a 1 in 3 chance), and we went through much testing during pregnancy and in the newborn stage to rule out any signs of the condition. Tess's reflux was a little more difficult to determine, was much less severe, and lasted a much shorter amount of time compared to Jack's. She successfully grew out of it in time (as many patients do), and we were released about a year ago from any further treatment for her, as long as symptoms stay at bay. Compared to so many other more serious health-related issues, we are so very thankful to have dealt with something completely fixable! Through years of treatment, we have actually enjoyed getting to know the amazing Dr. Rink and his staff. So many visits and phone calls later, his receptionist even refers to herself as "Aunt Trina" to our kids. We visit an office when upon entering we are humbled beyond words: where many children are there to treat urological issues that have resulted from things like spina bifida, brain injuries and the like. I don't think there has been an appointment that I have walked out of when I haven't been brought to tears. It's a powerful thing seeing such bravery displayed by such little ones. The office staff used to joke with us that they'd miss us until the next kid came along, and then surely we'd see them again for something. Funny joke, until it came true almost every time. :)

And just like clockwork, this Friday we'll go back for Chase, who will have surgery to repair an ascended testicle (uh, you can go back to looking at pictures now if you want). No kidding.

If I didn't feel so sorry for the guy, it would almost be funny. Seriously, what are the chances? He's five and a thinker. Just old enough to be scared because he knows what surgery is, and not quite old enough to know that he'll want to thank Dr. Rink someday for the opportunity to have everything in it's proper place and working like it should. So we're not telling him. Not yet anyway. He would think and worry and ask all the revealing questions all week long. He knows he has an appointment, and we'll share the rest of the news with him right after he drinks his loopy meds in surgery prep. Yes, that sounds like the perfect time to tell him. Thank goodness for loopy meds. And for that silly Theodore the Chipmunk stuffed animal that he's dying to have from the grocery store (that I'm going to pull out of my purse to distract him at just the right time when he figures the whole gig out). P.S. These hard working boys don't get paid an allowance on a regular basis (because don't you know, we're all family here), but for this pile of leaves? One dollar.

And a happy heart.