When plans change.

I was so excited to write my funny post about how to live like a hillbilly, and to link up with all these house posts. Then for some reason I left my phone on Sunday morning and my sister woke me up when she let me know my mom was in the E.R. And had a heart attack.

So the plans changed.

To say this was unexpected is an understatement. My mom Is 53 and had minimal risk factors. She thought she had the flu. But life is unexpected.

Really it is the best case for a crappy scenario. One angioplasty later, a couple nights in the icu, and my mom is still alive. Modern medicine truly is amazing.

The hard part for me is to adjust to a new normal. Now that there is no imminent danger, I'm crashing. I'm coming off my "let's focus on what needs to be done" high and it's starting to set in that my mom had a heart attack. I'm realizing that the road to recovery isn't easy or instant, and that this is a process. A one day, one hour, or one task at a time process. And I don't like it because I am a sucker for instant gratification.

But I'm grateful that God is in the tasks and the moments, that when I learn to slow down, I learn to listen better. I learn to feel a little deeper and cherish a bit more. (Except for those times when I want to bite someone's head off.)

My mom was admitted to the hospital I work at, so last night the girls at work blessed me we some time to go sit with her. She didn't know I walked in and she didn't know I was the one that grabbed her hand. She didn't know I tried to take a picture of it. But that has been my favorite moment since Sunday. Just the two of us when she didn't even know I was there.

She woke up while I was still sitting there and said she thought I was someone holding her hand down because she kept taking off her blood pressure cuff during the night, and she figured the nurses were fed up with it :). So we shared some late night Italian ice and she went back to sleep and I went back to work. It wasn't much, but it was enough. Enough time just the two of us where I could let some tears fall without her knowing and tell God how grateful I am that she is still here, that I'm grateful for the reminder to cheerish my time, and that I'm grateful for the reminder to slow down. The plans have changed and I'm learning to be ok with it.

The Ugliest Kitchen Ever

I need to be better about posting before photos.  So here is the ugliest kitchen ever.

Here is refrigerator number two and the table the sellers left here with my enormous amounts of "get this done now" crap piles.  Luckily, after a whole month, ComEd will be picking up said refrigerator in a week.

In these picture it actually appears like a kitchen.  This shall be the current angle for all of my kitchen shots from here on out.  Like the harvest gold floor?  It is the third level of linoleum we have been bless with. That space next to the kitchen is from the original beast stove.  We have now replaced the stove....twice.

We rock some nice original 1950's cabinets.  You see those drawers on the left  I am taking a sawsall to them and putting a dishwasher there.  Watch out sucker.

Where the fridge and the counter meet will one day be no more.  This fridge will be shoved against the wall so that I can have a dishwasher...only my counter top won't be long enough to cover it.  Creative solutions anyone?

Like the track on the ceiling?  It is from the original light.  To say the wall paper needs to come down and everything needs to be painted is a bit of an understatement.

In case you are scared of the dark, hooter will lead the way.  Only not really because he only gives off 2 watts of light.

We have high hopes for it one day.  Until then, we plan on cutting out some drawers next to the sink and having putting in a dishwasher that we salvaged from my dad's shed.  It will look interesting to say the least, but I will take an interesting dishwasher over none any day!

In the meantime I noticed something funny.  Ever call you husband this sweet endearing term, when really you are just calling him an idiot?
Prime example:

"Babe, don't you need to get over a lane of we will miss out exit?"
"I know where I am, babe."

What really conspired in this sweet conversation:

"Hey whack job! You are driving really fast in my dad's old rickety van and I'm scared if you don't get over now, I shall surely die."
"I live here too dippy doo and if I wanted to get over already I would have.  I am confident in my driving skills and if I wanted a back seat driver I would ask, thanks."

I'm sure every married couple speaks their own language of love.  There is a little snippet into ours.