I've got some things to tell you.
Let's start with my girl. What a weekend(ish) she's had.
Thursday she graduated from her swim class. She has to be 3 to actually move up to the next level but she really did amazing, even the instructor said so on her little certificate.
Friday, she got her first tooth. Her lower right one.
Saturday, she stood up all by herself without any help from anyone or anything besides the floor.
Sunday (yesterday) she took her first step. It was just one, she fell on her second. And she has been unable to repeat this feat. I don't call it "walking" until she can really stabilize herself well and takes more than 5 steps at a time, but man she is on her way. I knew she'd be right there with her brother walking pretty early, C walked at 9 days shy of 10 months old. Miss M is still 13 days shy of 9 months and I did not anticipate her moving so soon. She is one determined little girl. I hope this is an attribute that sticks with her as she grows.
Now, let me tell you a little story about small miracles.
On Wednesday as we were leaving the house and I was loading the kids in the car I noticed I wasn't wearing my wedding band. I thought that was odd, but we were in the garage and we needed to leave. I don't wear my engagement ring often as it can scratch M and I don't want to do that but I almost always have my wedding band on. I take it off for some really gross things but usually not.
I honestly didn't think of it again until dinner. I asked Husband if he had seen it. I said "I honestly haven't even looked for it yet, but I don't remember taking it off."
I looked on Wednesday, I looked pretty well. I didn't find it. So I said a little prayer. Asked St. Anthony for help and went to sleep. I wasn't too worried.
Thursday after bedtime, we moved furniture in our room. When I do take it off, it live on my bedside table so it almost certainly just fell on the floor somewhere. We deep cleaned our room. I started freaking out. What if M had taken it off the table and swallowed it?! Then we threw it in the trash because it was in a diaper? I didn't sleep so well that night.
Friday I spent the entire day, and I mean the entire day, cleaning the house. Our room was looking pretty good. M's was spotless. I rearranged furniture in C's room looking for it. And his room was also all tidied up. After bedtime I cleaned the kitchen really well. I ordered a cheap metal detector off Amazon in case it had wound up in the yard or the trash. It would be here on Sunday. But obviously we'd find it by then and I would just return it.
Saturday I was flipping out. St. Anthony and I had been talking pretty consistently for a few days now and my house was getting to be pretty clean. We started moving big things. Taking the fabric off the bottom of the couch. Etc. The really frustrating thing was I just didn't remember taking it off! I kept trying to mediate on that and I couldn't figure it out. C had known for days that I was looking for it and would periodically say "Where's Mom's ring? Mom is sad." It was true.
Sunday mid-morning the metal detector arrived. I was pretty sure it was in the trash by this point. And that glimmer of certainty was the the hope I was clinging to.
At rest time I went out to the trash. To really get a feel for the day you should know it was about 90 degrees with like 80% humidity. So it was gross anyway is what I'm saying. Sorting through our trash was easily the grossest thing I have ever done. WAY WAY worse than the great retainer in the school lunch garbage of 5th grade incident.
I found every lid, twist tie, piece of foil and anything that would make a metal detector go off. I sorted through trash from our room that had been sorted through days before in this hunt and garbage that had been carefully gathered during the search.
I didn't find it. And I broke down.
I had been holding on to the fact the reason we couldn't find it in the house was because we must have accidentally thrown it out. It hadn't been in any of the diapers we'd seen in days. It wasn't in M currently. (Because yes we sure did metal detect her.)
Husband talked me down and I calmed a bit. I took a short nap and I made the pie I had been planning on making.
Beth posted this pie the other day and it looked so good the ingredients needed went on the grocery list. Beth had, without knowing it was my wedding band, just a lost thing, told a story about how she asked for St. Anthony's help along with her own little
Saint Rebecca Irene's help and had found what she was looking for.
So as I baked, which is something I find relaxing anyway, I said a Hail Mary. I asked for St. Anthony's help again and I talked to Rebecca Irene. I told her how I was making the pie her mom liked and her sister had just made. I told her how much my ring meant to me and why. I told her how excited I was about things that were going right in my life. Basically I just talked to her. As I put the pie into the oven, I asked it she could pray for me and help me out.
The pie baked for just shy of an hour. Husband distracted me while it was baking and wouldn't let me keep looking. We had dinner. Then Husband and C went upstairs for a potty break. And the shouting started. They came running downstairs and C ran my ring over to me. "Mom's ring!! Be so happy! We found it!!"
I cried I was so happy. I literally bawled. I hugged my boys. C was giggling with delight he was so proud of himself. It was lying smack dab in the middle of the floor in his room. A room we had searched many times and a room that had been vacuumed and dry mopped since the whole saga began.
The Saints are real folks. Heaven is real. As a nice bonus, the pie really is that good. And I'm never taking my ring off again.