Small Things Are Big Things

March 7, 2013 by: Kara Noel Lawson

She’ll Never Know {I wish my kids could know my mom}

In January I picked up an incredible wooden play-set from Craig’s List (for FREE). My mom had just fallen a few weeks before and things had been very touch and go, but she seemed to be on the mend. I was watching the kiddos play on their new “backyard park” and it struck me that Tessa would never remember a time without the play-set. Eli, Cora Jane and maybe Cyrus would remember the excitement getting it, then building it, but to Tessa, having a rad wooden play-park in the yard would be the norm. Then my mind crashed and I realized it could have been like that with the memory of my mom. Tessa may never have known life with my mom. I thanked God she didn’t have to walk that path.

As I said, at the time my mom was on the mend and soon would be starting the long leg recovery process. I even got to show her some of the pictures of the kids playing on the play-set and chat with her about how much the kids enjoyed it. We laughed that Cyrus would probably be the first one to jump off and break his arm.

Then things changed and we get to face that reality.

Tessa recognizes my mom’s picture and will excitedly exclaim “Nannie!!!” But I know it won’t be long until looking at my mom’s picture won’t incite actual memories but it will be as if she is looking at a picture of Mickey Mouse. Someone who is amazing but isn’t real. She might even wonder what life would be like if this “Nannie” person was still around.

I wonder everyday.

Tessa will never receive her yearly custom birthday party themed pillowcase lovingly made by my mom… probably sewn the night before the party.

She’ll never get to snuggle with my mom and read Go Dog Go 20+ times in a row.

She’ll never get to call Nannie after every successful poo poo on the potty.

She’ll never get the frequent care packages and “just because” notes.

She’ll never be hailed “truly a genius” for just being herself.

She’ll never get to show off the way she says new words, like strawberry… (“stawbedy-y”)

She’ll never know what it’s like to be my mom’s granddaughter.

We can (and will) tell her, but she’ll never really know .

It sucks.

February 28, 2013 by: Kara Noel Lawson

Craft Attitude’s Printable Jewelry Film {giveaway too!}

Last month I had the opportunity to visit the Craft and Hobby Association’s Winter Trade Show. It was like the Holy Land of crafts. Like, overwhelming. Somehow I was able to meet some pretty fun folks and discover some cool new products.

One was Craft Attitude Printable Jewelry Film. You print whatever you want on the paper (from an ink jet printer) then glue stick it on any kind of jewelry for a custom piece. Talk about an easy craft! I think it would be a great activity for a girls night or a girl scout/tween birthday craft or a Mom/Grandma/Aunt gift…

I got to get a personal how-to lesson from Candie Cooper. See the Craft Attitude Printable Jewelry Film in action below…

Now that you see how rad it is, wouldn’t you like a pack of your own?

OK!

One lucky reader will win an 8 sheet pack of Craft Attitude Printable Jewelry Film. Just leave a comment on this post with what you’ll make with the film… and/or who you will make it for! Follow the entry instructions in the box below for extra entries…

a Rafflecopter giveaway

February 24, 2013 by: Kara Noel Lawson

Crashed – the story of my mom’s death

My computer crashed on January 17th.

My life crashed on February 7th.

The computer has been fixed for a few days. (Hence this post.)

My life will never be the same.

My mom died.

I absolutely hate that that is part of my story.

I absolutely hate that my mom won’t get to read this blog post.

Or any new blog post I will write. (She thinks thought I was so clever.)

I’m sad (understatement). And I’m sure I’ll be writing about it. Along with all the other things this blog is about. But for now, I’ll write about how it happened. Because it’s a story worth sharing. And it’s my story (deep breath).
Here is the story of my mom’s death:

My mom broke her leg falling off a curb, and was getting better. We spent Christmas and New Years in the ICU (wrapping presents on the waiting room floor above) Then she wasn’t getting better and was transferred to Cedars Sinai. At Cedars we found out her body was rejecting the metal hardware put in to fix the broken leg. It felt (feels) very tragic and unfair.

We became quite popular among the nurses because we brought treats every visit. (Thank you to those of you who helped me out!) Even though things were so dire, I really felt like God was working. My mom was somewhat stable and my heart thought once the hardware was gone she would start to recover again like she did from her initial leg surgeries. It felt like God was trying to get as many people involved in his miracle as possible.

We prayed. And prayed. And churches all over the country prayed. We made the decision to remove the hardware. Which meant we needed to remove the leg. The leg she broke was her “bad” leg. The one that was really unhealthy from her diabetes so it really wasn’t the hardest decision to make. Especially because the alternative was give up and wait for her to die. She had less than a 10% chance of making it though the leg surgery.

She made it!

Glory to God. He was working. It felt big. And horribly wonderful.

Now we just needed to wait.

It took about 10 days from her broken leg surgeries to get back to talking and eating again, and I was prepared for about the same amount of healing time. Three days went by and she was overriding the ventilator and her blood pressure was normal – even during dialysis.

Then it wasn’t.

Her blood pressure was dropping and she would no longer sustain dialysis. We had a family meeting with her doctors and they told us there was nothing more they could do. And the week of healing ended up being the week she died. It took 3 days for her body to finally give up. She is was the strongest woman I have ever known.

I was holding her hand when she breathed her last breath and for her last heartbeat. The people she loved most, sung her favorite hymns and ushered her into forever.

It was beautiful, and a peaceful way to enter heaven.

But I wish it had never happened.

I can’t believe it has happened.

From falling off a curb.

I can’t believe I’ll never get to sit at my dinning room table and sew and chat with my mom. I can’t believe that my younger kids will never remember being adored by her. And that my older kids’ memories will be mostly prompted by old photos instead of last week’s visit.

My heart hurts and my head keeps thinking that this just isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

I feel very alone.

My heart knows she is in heaven rejoicing and my head says it’s not fair that such a truly good person is gone from earth.

I feel like 60-years-old is too young to die.

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” John 11:25-26

My mom believes believed this. Do you?

January 16, 2013 by: Kara Noel Lawson

A Brand New Day {taking this coma one day at a time}

I’m a little late on the New Years bandwagon. (I’ve been going through some stuff and more stuff)

You may have noticed I’m slowly changing things here on the Eli’s Lids Blog. We are rebranding the business name (to Every Moment Clothing) and I’m starting to write from the heart here. This has always been more of a personal blog for me, so it just feels right. I wanted to share my New Years Resolutions and let you know what’s coming up around here in the new year.

I usually don’t make New Years Resolutions. It seems too broad to say, “this year I’m going to lose 20 pounds” or “I’m going to save more money.” It’s most effective for me to make daily resolutions. I can do anything for a day. When I gave up soda, I did it for a day. Then I did it for a day again, and again and again and again… before I knew it, it had been over a year without soda. Crazy.

I made 3 resolutions this year and it just so happened that one is financial, one is physical and one is spiritual… (my brain likes that there are categories)

Cloth Diaper. This year I’m going to cloth diaper at home, one day at a time. I’ve started doing it and I actually love it. I have 6 diapers and at .25 cents a pop, I’ll be saving $547.50 by the end of the year. It feels great to be saving some money, not to mention my crazy environmental guilt for all the diapers we have put in land fills.
Run in 3 5Ks. Since running the Chapman 5K in October, I’m a total runner. I would also love to run in three 5Ks this year. This one is a broad resolution, and it’s already stressing me out. So I think I need to be more specific and pick three to sign up for asap.
Fast. I’ve fasted out of obedience before and it was always kind of a burden. But recently I’ve fasted with passion for a prayer. It’s rad. Like REALLY rad! Brad and I have wanted to try doing it once a week and I think this is the time to do it. (This one is worthy of a full post in the near future.)

Simple, right? We’ll find out!

On the blog…

Pretty. I’ll continue to transition to a personal blog… with pretty colors and maybe a fancy sidebar.
House DIYs. I’m going to start sharing all the projects we’ve done in the house. I keep waiting till a room is done to share, but I’m realizing that I will probably never have a “done” room. So I took pictures of every room in my house, in various states of messiness (I always keep things real here!) and I’ll start going room by room. Then by the time I’m done I’m sure I will have added so much I can start right back at the beginning again.
Cooking. I’m learning to cook. I suck, so I’m going to share the journey. For accountability and because I’ve stumbled across lots of easy recipes that might help other gals out.

For the biz…

Rebranding to Every Moment Clothing.
Debuting the Bohemian Lid! (Would have happened if things weren’t crazy right now) And so much more!
New visions for the charities we work with. Not sure what it is yet. As we grow, I want to be sure what we give makes a difference.

So that’s the New Year in a nutshell. I’ll be taking it one day at a time! Thank you for your support with the biz and with life.

It’s a brand new day.

What are you going to do?

(I love this song right now. The video is silly, but listen to the words. Totally motivating.)

January 14, 2013 by: Kara Noel Lawson

Pray, Wait and Hope – going to Cedars Sinai

“I’m so sorry I didn’t RSVP sooner for the party, it’s been a crazy week… we thought we would have to pull the plug on my mom… (awkward science on the other end of the phone line)… but we didn’t have to. Sooooo that’s super good. See you at the party…”

Then I hung up the phone and thought, why in the hay did I say that!?!? I don’t even know this mom from Eli’s school. Now I’ll be labeled “the crazy drama mom.”

But I haven’t been through this before and I’ve never been one to hide my feelings. I’m transparent toward friends (and strangers) and I like to think that makes me enduring… but I’m probably accurately labeled “the mom who shares too much, too soon” among my acquaintances.

I shared about my mom’s broken leg after Christmas and she was getting better. Then she wasn’t. She was getting worse. Much worse.

Her liver started to fail and she started to have living nightmares. Then hallucinations as she was falling in and out of consciousness.

Then she coded.

And I got a call from my dad who was weeping. He told me to come to the hospital because we were going to have to meet with the doctors and make some “decisions” about my mom’s healthcare.

Brad came home from work and we arranged babysitting for the kids. I slowly got ready for the day. I put on my clothes thinking, this is the outfit I’ll be wearing when my mom dies. Today, I’m going to have to make the decision to kill my mom. I thought of all my friends who have lost a parent already. I was about to join their ranks and I hated it. It was raining and I felt like the earth was weeping with me. I cried out to God in ways I never had before. Didn’t he hear my prayers and the prayers of literally hundreds of others? Wasn’t I being faithful to fast and pray without ceasing?

We got to the hospital and it was like a bad dream. We waited with about a dozen family/friends and the Dr called my dad and I aside. He said, “Things are looking serious with Suzan and I think it’s time we think about a transplant because a bed has opened up at Cedars Sinai.”

WHAT!?!

Before all this, my mom had been working through Cedars Sinai to get a liver transplant in the next 5-10ish years and we had been begging pleading trying to get her transferred there for the past week. Now she was being transferred!

A close family friend (a second mom to me and Yaya to my kiddos) was standing next to me and we collapsed into a hug and cried and praised the LORD. That hysterical relief cry when you can’t breath or talk or see or think. I didn’t have to say goodbye to my mom today. God, you heard me! Little-nothing-me. You listened! You chose to answer my prayer. My mom was being transferred. It’s not over. There is hope. Hope.

(our feet in the ICU waiting for the transfer)

She was transferred that afternoon (Thursday) and within an hour of being at Cedars they had done a procedure to train 3.3 liters of fluid from her tummy and had a dialysis plan. We get to visit every 2-3 days and it’s hard to see my mom like that. We tell her stories about what the kids are doing and are blessed with slight fluttering of her eyes after each one. We play her favorite song (100,000 Reasons by Matt Redman… video below… watch it.) and can see her lips trying to sing the words. Daily she is going through tests to officially get her a spot on the liver transplant list. The liver is a crazy organ – a pill or machine can’t replicate it’s function, but it can regenerate.

Pray boldly, dear friends, that my mom’s liver would heal itself. That we can baffle the doctors with God’s GLORY!! Pray that while she is in the coma she has peace, rest and healing. That her body can heal properly from the five surgeries weeks prior (and specifically a yeast infection in her blood). That if she needs a transplant her body will be well enough to handle the operation and that the perfect liver will come up at just the right moment. I’m so thankful this isn’t over and I get the privilege to intercede on my mom’s behalf and I’m so thankful you get to too.

We will pray. We will wait. We will hope.

January 2, 2013 by: Kara Noel Lawson

Bankers Boxes as Toy Storage

It’s that time of year again! Time to purge and organize all the crap sweet gifts from family and friends!

We have an entry table that doubles as toy storage. It’s part of the expedit series from IKEA and I love it because it deceptively holds a lot of stuff without being obnoxious. We had the plastic bins which were super pricey and fell apart after a month. (UG) Then we got the baskets (seen below) and while I think they are very pretty, they are $17 each!! Then I discovered standard .99 cent bankers boxes fit perfectly. AND they don’t go up to the top so you are able to fill it up with more oddly shaped items. But they are boxes, so it looks like you still have some unpacking to do. Nothing a little paper can’t fix…

You’ll need: Bankers box, 12×12 pretty paper, spray adhesive, razor blade, glue, craft letters (optional)

1. Spray the heck out of the front of the box with the spray adhesive and adhere the paper to the front. Standard 12×12 scrapbooking paper just fits the width of the box and overlaps a bit on one end of the length. Since I lined my paper to the bottom I had to cut a few inches off the top. OPTION: fold the excess paper over and glue.

2. From the inside, cut lines (as seen below) on the paper inside the handle. You can use scissors but a sharp razor blade works best!

3. Fold and glue inside the box.

4. Finish by labeling each box with the child’s name or with the contents of the box. I did a bin for each child, one for blocks, and one labeled “lost & found” for all the crap items left at our place after parties and playdates.

This is so versatile! Cover the front of any cheapie box and make it look rad. For more narrow shelving turn the box sideways. You can even use fabric! I think all the boxes covered in the same fabric would be great! Or even using coordinating scrapbook paper and no letters for a neat art piece effect. I plan on doing something like that since this table is basically in our living room and eventually moving these boxes to the play room.

As you can see, my children are doing a great job of keeping organized with their “new” bins…

December 30, 2012 by: Kara Noel Lawson

Christmas Feels Trivial {we thought my mom was going to die}

We are coming out of Christmas and my head is spinning. Not because of big family meals, gifts galore or touching church services (though I did experience all of the above), but because the whole holiday feels insignificant. My mom fell, broke her femur, and I thought I would be planning her funeral through Christmas.

I’m not.

Because she is still alive and slowly coming out of her 10 day medically induced coma as I’m typing this post.

Late on the 19th she fell off a curb after her Bible Study Christmas Party (oh how us Bible Thumpers can get wild) and her femur snapped like a twig. She was rushed in an ambulance to the ER where one of my High School friends happened to be the doctor to admit her. That was cool. My mom was happy-loopy on pain meds in preparation for the next day’s surgery. The surgeon attached a steel plate with 10 pins into her leg and ended up having to do a second surgery right after the first to to drain her leg of fluid with a vacuum. My sweet mom, who already has all sorts of health issues, now had three open 10” incisions on one leg. When I visited her the next day she was ventilated, restrained (because she wanted to pull out the terrible breathing machine from her throat) and terrified. We were surrounding her bed weeping and when she heard our voices her back would arch, her eyes would bulge and she radiated fear.

That’s when I knew she would die.

She would be moved for 24 hour dialysis. She would be put farther under for sedation into a medically induced coma. She would end up going through 5 surgeries in the days to come. Her organs would shut down and technology would be keeping air in her lungs and poison from her blood.

We rearranged Christmas with extended family (which was met with very little compassion… which was totally lame), but we felt like we couldn’t rearrange Christmas morning with the kids. No matter what happened. On the eve of Christmas Eve we had to go to the store for a gift for Eli. We had just left the hospital and I was stifling sobs. I was watching the other people in a daze. Shoppers were frantically looking for last minute gifts or coveting things on their wish lists or laughing at novelty items. It was surreal. And I wanted to get on the loud speaker and scream at anyone who would listen, “Don’t you see how trivial this is? Can’t you understand that this ‘holiday’ is a joke? Did you know that the most wonderful person ever is dying while you are shopping for that aunt you only see once a decade? A light is fading from this earth and it will be gone forever!!!! I would trade every Christmas if she could survive this. And you would too, if you met her. Because she’s amazing. And she’s mine. And she’s dying. I want you to wail and shout ‘UNFAIR’ with me. And most of all I don’t want you to be happy.”

Dramatic. I wasn’t in the best place and I didn’t come out of that place till yesterday, when I was truly sure she would live.

She is happy-loopy on pain medication again. But she’s alive!

She’ll have to be in an extended care facility for about two months before she can put ANY weight on her leg. But she’s alive.

She is alive.

And I’m going to go visit her right now.

I GIANT thank you to YOU! My friends, followers, pastors, prayers warriors. Without you she would be dead. And something precious would be gone. Of that I’m certain.

(Picture of my mom this Halloween with Cinderella.)

December 17, 2012 by: Kara Noel Lawson

20 Elis are dead

I can’t stop thinking about the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary school in Newtown. Eli is in kindergarten, and the same age as most of the victims.

20 Elis are dead.

Friday, the day of the shooting, I had started a post in my head reflecting on my children and about cherishing all of our little moments. But this isn’t about me, or my kids, or about being grateful for the simplicity of daily life. The reality is 20 moms in Newton will never have those “little moments” with their kids again. 20 families have carefully picked presents wrapped under their Christmas tree that will not be opened. 20 dads have to walk past their child’s empty bedroom. Little siblings are wondering where their big siblings went. Big siblings are trying to make sense of injustice. A whole community has been changed.

20 moms have to watch as their fearfully and wonderfully made child gets closed up into a box and buried in the ground. Gone forever. Always wondering how life would have been different if their child was still alive. What if we had stayed home sick from school… what if we bought that house in a different district… what if Adam Lanza had a friend to talk him out of shooting children. When did shooting children become a way to express your hurt and anger and sadness and bitterness at the world. My God! My God, Why?

I would be scared of forgetting the feeling of Eli in my arms, the sound of his voice and his laugh. Fearful of watching an old home video and wondering if that time was ever really real. What will it be like for the Newton moms to fold the next load of laundry and find a tee shirt her child wore days ago but will never wear again? Everyday your heart breaking all over again. Weeping, screaming and hoping to wake up from this nightmare.

Across the country people are doing 20 acts of kindness in honor of the each murdered child. (Some are doing 26 to include the murdered adults.) I think it’s a great idea. If I was one of the 20 moms I would like to hear that thousands of people were doing good in honor of my precious lost child. But, of course, I would really just want my child back.

I made the free printable pictured above (click here to print it) because I feel like it embodies the acts of kindness happening everywhere. I love this whole passage in 2 Corinthians.

But the most comforting passage for me when anything happens to children is Matthew 18 6-7 (The Message version). “But if you give them a hard time, bullying or taking advantage of their simple trust, you’ll soon wish you hadn’t. You’d be better off dropped in the middle of the lake with a millstone around your neck. Doom to the world for giving these God-believing children a hard time! Hard times are inevitable, but you don’t have to make it worse—and it’s doomsday to you if you do.”

Which basically shows what a jerk I am. God throwing evil people into the ocean with a giant stone tied around their neck and the word doomsday… yep, that about sums up my thoughts. I should probably work on that. But most likely I won’t.

I’m trying to decide how we are going to do the 26 acts of kindness. Maybe we’ll combine it with the Christmas sacrifices we are already doing. I don’t think you need to be legalistic about it, but making a list of 26 things you can do with your kids to comfort/help/serve others is an awesome start.

I’d love to know your ideas for the list or your thoughts about the shooting. Leave a comment, and if you’ve written a post, leave the link.

December 6, 2012 by: Kara Noel Lawson

Showing Sacrifice

Over the Summer, we were in the car and Eli was having an award winning fit because Cora Jane wouldn’t let him hold her glow stick.

He shrieked, ”This is the worst day of my whole life!”

Really? The day your sister doesn’t share a dollar store glow stick is the worst day of your life. First world problem.

So in a “shining” parenting moment I said, “REALLY!?!?!?!?!????? The day your little sister doesn’t share a 10 cent glow stick is the WORST day of your LIFE!!?!?! Did you know some kids don’t have toys to play with, or a place to sleep, or a mommy and daddy to take care of them… just like little Henry who we have been praying for!!!!!”

Eli – “I thought Henry had parents who are trying to bring him home?” (UPDATE: Henry is home. Post coming!)

Me – “Yes, that’s true… but that’s not the point, the point is… (deep breath and in a calmer voice) today is not the worst day of your life. When someone doesn’t share with you, it’s not the worst day of your life. In our family, we don’t let tiny problems control our attitude or behavior.”

Eli – “Well, it’s a big deal to me.”

We talked more that day, but as the months have passed I’ve often thought of this conversation. I’ve brainstormed how I will teach my children to identify the difference between little life problems, and real world problems. Such as global hunger, sex trafficking and corrupt governments. How do I tell my child their problems aren’t “real?” Especially when it really isn’t age appropriate to be talking about child prostitutes.

I want my children to have perspective about their difficulties in relation to the community around us, our nation and the globe. And I truly think children are smart enough to start learning early about many of the real world issues. I feel like the best way to teach our children anything is to show them. Show them to be passionately angry about kids starving, not dollar store glow sticks. Ultimately, resulting in their own desire to create a positive impact.

Now, we are in the midst of the season of excess. Kids around the world are hoping for a bit of Hollywood Holiday Magic to get the “perfect” gift under their tree, families are in a rush to send out their clever holiday cards and solidify plans with extended family. It’s oh-so-easy for me to get caught up in a matching pajama frenzy. I love it. But I’m choosing to give up things to show my kids how to serve others.

I know it’s silly, but it’s a sacrifice for me to give up the magical Christmas extras. I’m not being a martyr. I’m being selfish, and I hope my kids see that unbecoming quality in me. Then I hope they see me fighting against my selfish nature and being content. Not just content, brimming with joy. The feeling you get when you realize you made a difference but also recognizing you are a small part of something bigger. Instead of buying a live Christmas tree we are putting up our broke-a&$ fake one and buying two goats. Instead of prepping a full spread for Christmas party guests we’ll be doing a potluck and asking for donations to the chicken fund. We are baking cookies for neighbors, babysitting at the local ESL class, volunteering at a Christmas store for locals in need, Meals On Wheels gifts, letters to soldiers overseas… Oh how we are going to give till it hurts.

My children will learn that giving is addicting.

And maybe they will learn to share a freaking glow stick.