I firmly believe that every day, small unnoticed miracles happen. Today I noticed.
Diva and I were reading her math, when she realized I was missing an earring.
Wolf bought me peridot and diamond studs for our wedding anniversary, to replace the ones that went 'missing' that he'd bought for my 30th birthday. I've been wearing them ever since.
Anyways, I have a mini heart attack. Went to my room, checked everywhere, no earring. My heart sinks as I think of all the places the earring could be, including down the shower drain. I'm always fiddling with my earrings, tightening the backs, turning them...checking to see if they're there...but I couldn't remember the last time I'd noticed them.
So, I'm searching the bathroom, just about in tears...and spot the earring. It was at the base of the sink cupboard.
It sounds like such a silly thing, but I'm so incredibly grateful for it...to me, it *is* a miracle that the earring was found. Of all the places it could have been, including the dog park that my gf K and I were at yesterday...to find it at all...
Yes, I'm giving thanks. Big time.
Word of advice: Just don't. Seriously.
I was feeling a bit out of sorts, so I announced to Tazzie that Mommy had quit smoking this weekend! Isn't that great? Isn't it wonderful? Aren't you proud of Mommy?
He looked at me and said, (I quote), "Meh" and wandered off.
*sigh*
Princess, overhearing this exchange, at least came and stuck her hand out at me for a high five. She then wandered off too.
I need a better cheering section. Maybe if I bribed them with cookies?
Ours was last Saturday.
Hard to believe that its been only seven years in some ways, hard to believe that its been as long as seven years in others, if that makes sense.
Normally we try to follow the traditional gifts, but wool in April just doesn't work 
So, I bought Wolf a watch. Its nice enough to use as a dress watch (assuming we ever go anywhere ) and sturdy enough that he could wear it to work and it would be ok. I had the back engraved: "7 years and still ticking! Love The Wife" Guy looked at me funny for that, lol!
Wolf bought be a lovely pair of Peridot earrings with diamond chips encircling the stone, and a jewelery box. I was very surprised, and I guess it showed.
He looked sheepish and said, "I know you don't like your birthstone, but I wanted to replace the earrings my sister stole."
Awwwwwwwwwwwwwww!
He's right. I hate my birthstone. When he gave me the first pair for my 30th birthday, he said, "I couldn't remember if you loved or hated your birthstone, just that you had a strong reaction to it." So yeah, I do hate Peridot, but love him...so the earrings were precious, and I wore them a lot until they went 'missing', later spotted being worn by my SIL.
The reason I don't like my birthstone is that its the colour or pus. Or snot. Blech.
He's so happy I haven't taken them off, even to the point of prompting me to show the nurse that comes out every Friday.
Yeah. Stuff like this explains a lot of why we've made it seven years. 
Perhaps this entry should be in my 'Chronic Pain and Me' blog, but since it involves so much more, I'm putting it here.
On Friday, we had an incredibly close call. My husband, Wolf, pulled into a McDs to take advantage of the 'free small coffee' deal currently happening. (Americans, don't feel jealous, its McDs way of attempting to compete with the annual Roll Up promo at Timmies). Getting back into the van, he discovered that one of his rear wheels was locked up solid.
Turned out that his rear brake had literally exploded.
Wolf takes the highway straight to work. If he hadn't pulled in for coffee exactly when he did, the locked up wheel would have sent him directly into oncoming traffic.
$700 later, the van is back on the road...and I still tremble when I think how close we came to tragedy.
Then I checked my email on Saturday. I've been offline for a bit, dealing with pain and depression.
Clearing my email, I discovered that a friend I've known since she was nearing the end of her pregnancy with her first dd, and I was finishing my first trimester with Tazzie had lost her 1 yo baby girl this past week.
She'd put her down for a nap, and found her dead when she went to wake her.
Her husband has been able to make it home from Afghanistan, and the funeral is tomorrow.
My heart breaks for her. I've wept so many times since finding out, reading her posts in the group we're in together.
Yes, that's right. She's an 'online' friend...but as real a friend as someone I'd go for coffee with.
I can't imagine her pain. I hurt for her, her eldest dd, her husband...but nowhere the reality of the Hell they're going through, that I know.
And right now, for me, the litany of, 'Don't scream. Don't scream. Don't scream.' is racing through my mind as I count down the minutes to Wolf getting home. The arm is flared all the heck up to the point where even typing this solely with my good hand is still reverberating through my arm, making me grit my teeth and bathing my body in the cold, greasy sweat that accompanies pain flare ups.
The weather is stunningly gorgeous. I haven't bumped myself, or any of the other 'known' issues that would cause a flare.
Good old fashioned emotional stress perhaps. PMS perhaps. Or perhaps nothing at all, just having RSD.
I feel tears brimming, and I couldn't tell you who they're for. My friend, mourning her baby, or just physical pain.
RSD even robs me of that. When I want most to be praying for my friend and her family, focusing on offering whatever support I can on THEM, RSD takes me down, making me self centred, driving me into a ball of pain.
So, I'm asking readers of my blog to please do what I can't right now. Please pray for J, her dh M, and their dd E. I don't use my name on my blog, so I won't post theirs...I've no doubt God will know who the prayers are for. Pray for their strength as they say goodbye to baby M, for love, healing for them...whatever, anything that you are moved to do.
Please.
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