My friend Amy is in labor now... Livi died in the womb a few days ago, and we've been asking God for a miracle. So far He has not answered how we would have hoped. Amy is 21 weeks pregnant. This is her 5th loss.

So my heart is heavy today. Is it God? Is it us? Faith, sovereignty, fallen world? I don't know. I have zero answers.
I know God loves Amy, and John, and Livi.

I'm not struggling so much as I am sad. I'm tired of death.

---

In other news, Toby and Bean are busy little toddlers these days.
They climb. He jumps, she gets stuck.
They share, and they steal and fight.
They laugh at each other and scream at each other.
Just now, we were driving, and he would say "Uh oh!" and across the van a teeny little "Uh oh" would echo back.... then they started roaring back and forth.
Richy rides in between them in the van, but at home he usually keeps a little distance. For one thing, they are probably going to get in trouble. For another thing, they are possibly going to be violent. Just a little safer up on the couch or a couple of feet away.

---

It's hard to fast when I'm sad. A good book or a vat of chocolate would be so helpful right now....

You may or may not have noticed I didn't blog yesterday. I wish there was more outrage, but hey... whatever.
So Monday and Tuesday Richy went to the GMA. He saw a lot of Christian musicians, or artists... he had a good time, but we're not really into the Christian music "industry". Not going to really elaborate on that, since I didn't go and he has his own blog.

Yesterday I went through my new city routine, in which I choose a random direction on the freeway and go for it. Why is it, if I choose what logically was the direction (east) we drove last time to get to Walmart, it is DEFINITELY going to be the wrong way? So off I went 10 miles wrong, 10 miles back and eventually arrived at my destination...
I hit Salvation Army and Goodwill with a vengeance. Anyways.

So we're supposed to be providing some sort of leadership/pastoring to the students at the school here. The students arrive Sunday, so far we've just met the interns. Yesterday I had a conversation with one of the interns.
"Which one of you guys is all into healing?"
me: point at R1.
him "He said you were..."
me "I.... was. I am. I just...."
him "Because I have such a heart for that, I just really want to do it. And I don't know anybody else who is interested in healing."
me "Uh, well. I was seeing a lot of healings, before... did you know about our babies?"
him "Yeah, that's understandable."
me "Not that I don't believe God can do it. I'm just a little burnt on asking..."
him "You need the fire.. I have the fire, but I don't know anything about it."
me "Yeah."
and so I went upstairs with my groceries, bothered by being the leader with the lack of faith. I feel like the old drunken boxer, and the upstart kid wants to be trained by him. "Get outta here, kid! I got nothin left!"
It's not a great feeling, but it might be motivation.

I toyed with the idea of going on strike today, to protest low comment-age. But I wasn't sure if anyone would notice. So here I am, blogging like a schmuck.
Schmuck does not trigger spell-check. It is, evidently a REAL word.

Have you heard about this movie/documentary Expelled? Looks amazing, opens Friday. Go.

Tonight, I am going to a girls-night-out with my small group, a farewell party of sorts for me as I leave KC for 2 months. We are going to eat a sick, obsessive amount of chocolate in a glittery, shiny restaurant. Yessss... Actually, last night we tried out a chocolate fountain at our group. It was awesome. I heartily approve of chocolate fountains. This is an infant loss support group, I remind you. We need chocolate, for therapy.

So, since I will be out chocolating, I will have to tape American Idol. On my VHS VCR. Because ain't no school like old school.

One of the amazing things about this support group is that just talking about stuff seems to get you moving. Like, realizing that these other women still grieve, and that they get "stuck" spiritually, has been so encouraging that I don't feel very stuck anymore.

Sorry about the late blog. For once, it is not my fault. Well, it kind of is, because I forgot to pay the phone bill. But ultimately, the internet was broken.

Today, for once in his life, the MOG did not have class. Wow, you say. That's kinda harsh. Uh, what I mean is, the MOG was out of school, not that he was tacky or "classless". Anyway, if I said it that way, it would pretty much be a compliment in that he had never, prior to today, been classless or tacky. Which, frankly, would be untrue, because it has happened before. Albeit rarely. But I digress. Deliberately. Because it amuses me.

Back to talking about American Idol. When was I talking about Idol, you say. My my... you are chatty today, aren't you? You were talking about Idol in the comments yesterday, and today, that's when. ANYWAY. In reference to the Idols singing Shout to The Lord... (aka Darlene makes a Million)... I see this, and Christmas songs played in Walmart, as "Christ is preached." In other words, He still gets the glory, even if a girl in a belly shirt sings a song about how great He is, with no understanding. And 30 million people hear it? I think that's just great, all around.

Oh yeah, before I digressed, and then had a secondary digression, I was trying to talk about today. Since R1 did not have SCHOOL, I ran away to the library and the thrift store. If anybody around here had actually taken a nap, I would still be gone. But they slept not. Still, I had a great time and gleefully spent 3 dollars on a pair of pink checkered Vans and 2 baby dresses that are pretty pioneer-era. R2 loves them... he's all about dressing his baby dolls. Which, you know, is of some concern to his father, but whatever. Happy Friday and have the weekend Marvin Zindler would have wanted you to!

I was going to post some pictures today, but in technology's eternal battle to destroy me, every rechargeable battery in the house is dead and so I cannot import anything. Am I charging the batteries now? Of course I am. Do I really think I'll win this one? Not really.

We flew out of KC Friday morning at 6:40. In the MORNING. Ay Caramba. I hate flying, so I have defense mechanisms for the times when we are most likely to crash to the earth, like the moment when the front wheels leave the ground, and the early trajectory, and descent and landing. I am fine when we are 34,000 feet in the air. My thinking is, it would take a while to fall out of the sky from that height, and I would have some warning. So I try to have a good book to divert me for the crucial moments, which means I have to ration it so I don't finish before landing. I blew it this time and finished my book, which meant I had to do a crossword puzzle during landing, which, frankly, was not sufficiently diverting. More than you needed to know? Well, this is my blog, folks. I can ramble on about any old thing and you just have to take it like a man.

It was such a great vacation. Maybe some of you would not want to fly to some remote oppressed city and spend 12 hours in prayer and fasting, but that's our bag. We just took our time. We sat around the hotel and watched a little TV. We ate good food, slowly. We drank Starbucks and watched far-off thunderstorms. And I remembered why my husband is my best friend.

Saturday was the Call. And I always say, the Call was awesome, intense, etc. It's just very hard to describe a day like this.

There's thousands of us here
and nobody really knows why
except maybe if we join together and ask
You will come
and remove the curse from this nation

We're all badly broken
and flawed, so flawed
but maybe, if we lift You up
You'll draw us near

The sound is deafening
of eight thousand hearts breaking
with Yours, for Yours

And maybe we've got it right
maybe we've got it wrong
but we can't stop asking
that much we know

More about the Call and vacation this week.

Late blogging because I was doing stuff... we had a guest for lunch and I made a pot o'chili... the MOG's wee little tummy is hurting now. He must be allergic to chili powder or some such.
We watched Martian Child last night... it was excellent, folks. As my good friend Simon Cowell would say, "Loved it. LOVED it."

It is so healing to have people around... ever since we got married, people would come over and God would just minister to them. People would talk about the atmosphere being peaceful. And I think we lost that for a while because I was just so sad. But lately I've been feeling it again. People come over here and meet with God. And we aren't even doing anything! HA!
A new development that's fun... we will be going to Nashville for a few weeks in March May, (thank you Nate) to help with this! I love going places... especially for a chunk of time like that... really get a vibe for the city and new places.
So yeah, I am feeling good and encouraged in general.

And now, Smartypants needs advice column fodder!

Submit your questions for Ms. Smartypants... need advice? You've come to the right place! Ask and you might receive.. Monday or next week sometime!

Last night I went to a new home group... it's kind of an infant loss support group. But it ended up being at a house... with about 6 women and yummy snacks. All of us have had miscarriages and or/late losses. It was amazing. We were scheduled to meet from 7 to 9 and we didn't leave until 11:30.
It's crazy how the shared experience of losing children just knocks down walls and there's such a bond already.

It was so good... being able to verbalize things that most people just don't get, and hearing from the other women the same things. Like how I feel stalled, stuck in my relationship with God since losing the twins. Understand, I'm not stuck like a victim- just hearing the shared struggle was so healing.

All of them are around my age and it seems like they like me... I'm nervous but excited about making some potential good friends. Funny how my insecurity shows up, here. At home I had my comfortable friends and my family and Radiant and of course everybody loved me. But meeting strangers and really liking them and thinking they're cool is intimidating. I have to risk rejection. And that makes me pretty nervous.

So there you go.

Ah, and Texans... VOTE!!

>>Link>> This is NOT good news.

In other news, my inner healing class was really good last night. I don't know how much traditional inner healing I need. I mean, I wasn't abused by anyone, and my parents were great. My wounds are all from my life imploding as an adult... people were dropping like flies for a while in my early 20's. So that's where I got most jacked up.

But anyhoo, last night was all about Father Wounding, which is, you know, how your dad wounded you and screwed up your life by being such a loser in your childhood. And a lot of people had bad dads, so I know that pain is valid. I just think I've been through the issues of my own heart enough that I'm pretty cautious about throwing stones. And that's kind of what this class is, throwing stones and hitting your pillow and letting it all out. Like I said, valid. But uh, a little elementary. Not that I've arrived. I've just had excellent training in my family and through MCF, and I like that kind of personal accountability better.

So anyways, last night I realized that my dad was a great dad. No real complaints. He was far from a perfect person, but a good dad. But still, there's this disconnect between me and God as a father. So that's where I was last night. Dealing with my disappointment with God, and releasing Him from that... (for my sake) and just trying to open myself up to love Him and trust Him again. And I wept copiously, although not as loudly as the small group next door who were hitting things (not really) and gasping and groaning and WHY-ing and so on. It's not funny, it's good they are getting healed.
But it is a little funny.

I have this thing... strange crying moments. I don't know what it's called.... here's how it goes. I can be watching TV, or out in public, whatever. And I see someone talented. Like a children's dance act or someone singing. And I just start crying.
Here's a weird part. I don't have to like the singer, or whatever. Just something grabs my heart and I cry. Surprises me every time.
I usually feel like a goof, I mean, who cries at Star Search? Or some kid singing the anthem? I do, evidently.

---

So last night the little guys and I watched Idol. Toby has clear favorites... there's the rocker nurse chick, and he just jumps up and starts busting a groove. I don't like her, but if he could vote...
I think I have an inborn prejudice toward long-haired blonde singers. I automatically don't like 'em. I like sassy black soul singers. Just my .02.

---

Fear not, readers. My spiritual journey continueth. Updates on that sometime when I have words for it. Peace out.

Last night was my second inner healing class... I was relieved to find I am not suffering greatly from Mother Wounding. It was interesting, though. In our small group time about half of the women were just sobbing and I really wanted to pray for them. (It's against the rules, only the group leaders can lay hands) But it was cool that my heart was moved and I actually wanted to reach out to someone else. It was a good class... sometimes I think I could teach it, but you know, I'm not all that. I am trying to turn off the analytics and receive from God for myself. So that's that.

In other news, American Idol is in full swing and I have selected a few favorites. Anybody with me?

In other, other news, I am sick of diapers. I clean up more human waste than a sewage company. Sheesh.

jESS,

How old were you when you first KNEW that God had a purpose for your life, and what were you doing at that time?

Well...
This is a little tricky for me. I got "saved" when I was 16. I got "saved" more when I was 19, in Issues of the Heart. And I need to get "saved" now. So I don't really know.
You know, I just believe that there has to be fruit. And I've got little to no fruit that I'm looking at, in terms of disciples and or/fruits of the Spirit. And you can go ahead and say, Hey! You're patient and kind and blah blah blah. But that won't really cut it, because I live with me. And so I know.
Before I lost the twins, I felt a lot of purpose. I really loved being a part of what Radiant was doing, and I was getting so excited and faith-filled and seeing people get healed and such. Then the twins, and I just got shell-shocked, or sidelined or something. I was sick of fighting, and I sat down. So here I am nearly 5 years later and not really sure how to stop the crazy train.

I want to be passionate and filled with vision. And I keep waiting for the kickstart that will make it easy to get back where I was, or even grow past that. My fear is, maybe there is no kickstart. And maybe I have to motivate myself to pursue a God that confuses the heck out of me. Don't misunderstand me... I love Him. I want to serve Him. But I don't get Him sometimes. If He would just capture me, that would be a heck of a lot easier than trying to love Him so that I have any desire for Him or love for people at all.

Sorry if that's a depressing answer. You just happened to catch me at a particularly purpose-less stage.

---

Submit your creative writing ideas and I'll blog on one of them next week!

So this is day two of the new schedule. And I am feeling so much better about life in general since I didn't have to get up at 7.
This is one of those rare moments where both babies are sleeping, or at least quiet in their rooms. Aaaaah..... nice. Just me and Rush and Buzz Lightyear.

---

You know what's hard? Motivation. I need a life coach. Well. I kinda have one. But he's more of an unsolicited advice coach.
WHY is it so hard to do what I need to do? I'm bustin' a Romans 7 here... feeling the Apostle Paul's pain.
I know who I want to be. I know the end result. But I really don't feel like doing the work. Except for a sort of passive inclination in my subconscious somewhere that I want to do more than just exist.
Oh, and another element of that is that I want my children to be something. To be passionate and have a cause. So they get a little of that from the MOG. But they spend most of their time with me, wandering idly from chore to meal to sitting on my blessed assurance. Not exactly an example of a reformer.
This is an interesting place in life. I am a mother of young children, which is really all-encompassing. How do you do more than that? But I know it's possible. My current coach tells me about Susanna Wesley with her ... what was it like 16 children or something.. and she would sit on the floor and pull her apron up over her head and meet with Jesus. And all her kids understood that signal. So of course it's possible. Just not easy. I like easy.
And there's another part of me that knows if I keep waiting for the next phase of my life to wake up, life will pass me by and I will have so many regrets. Because it just keeps moving, you know? There's no pause button.

So there you have it... another introspective day in the life. This has got to be the most boring blog EVER.
Well, no.
This is the most boring blog ever. Awesome.

Usually, about the third day into any kind of fast is really bad. You start to get hungry, and irritable. Everything that is normally kept under wraps by food sedation is exposed. If you make it through that day, it's much easier for the next several days. Until the next issue comes to the surface. Talking myself through that moment, I tell myself, this is when it becomes fasting. Until now, I could maintain that I was not hungry, or in need.

I am hungry and in need.
I'm lonely. I'm bored and unmotivated and overwhelmed. And all of my anesthetics are gone....

Get this... there is a soul-deep ache in me. I am missing Eden. Things are not as they should be and something in my spirit knows that. So I ache... I grieve and hurt for what I am supposed to be, the communion I am supposed to know. And I can, I could eat my way through the pain. I could fill my mind with politics, or hobby or entertainment. I could make a friend and talk myself through the boredom, and convince myself that the vacancy in me is filled.

Until that moment when once again I become aware of my nakedness and am ashamed.

G.K. Chesterson said, “Every man who knocks on the door of a brothel is looking for God.” I am sick to death from filling myself up with filler. And yet, despite my obvious and great need, I choose over and over again to anesthetize. Because it is easier. I do not like who I am when the pain comes up.

So here I am faced with a choice. I can find something to distract me, and maybe even smother for a time the spark that is a desire for something more. OR I can face the ache, and try to find solace and comfort in the only One who can fill me.

Had a revelation last night, as I was driving somewhere,- I am sick of existing. I want to live.

I actually had the real revelation of this years ago. After I lost my twins, I got terribly depressed. I remember thinking and writing that I wanted to be dead. Not suicide or even real death necessarily. Just desperate to stop feeling pain and wishing there was some relief. One night we were driving home, when we still lived near Cleveland. It was pitch black out there, except for headlights. And out of nowhere, a car swerves wildly into our lane. Head-on. Richy supernaturally got off the road, and we were unhurt. And in that black shock of a moment, I thought, "I want to live."

Now years later, I'm facing the next phase of that. I want to go beyond not wanting to be dead. I want to live and breathe and fight and CARE.

I want to be a burning heart. To burn for something. Who ever wakes up in the morning and says, "Man, I'd love to be a milktoast." ??

So, okay. Time to take life by the horns and move to Missouri. This is movement. And movement is good.

Also, new pictures over at the picture blog

Ah, the potty training. Ah. Back to that in mere moments.

The fast, is over. Long live meat and sweets. We prayed for Richy Tuesday night, and it was good. Really good. We didn't have a miraculous instant healing, but something definitely happened. So now we're just watching to see what God is up to.

The potty training has gone something like this. Toby, he is naked all the time. Can't keep a diaper on him. So I start the traditional approach of making him sit on the potty every 30 minutes. Nada. He prefers to pee on the carpet. So I give up. Onesies, backwards diapers, overalls... I haven't started duct tape yet. (yes, I'm serious). And somewhere along the way, he decides he will put his potty in front of the TV during Sesame Street and do some bizness. When I'm not even in there. And then he figures out if he tells me, he gets to flush the potty. So the pee marathon, it begins. We are flushing the potty literally almost constantly.
So I taught him how to climb up there and I'm out of a job. Now, if I can just figure out how to convince him to wear some undies... or pants. Shoot, a toga. Whatever. But stop the nudity. Please.

I am fasting the internets for the final 3 days of this Daniel fast... feel like I need to intensify and get my heart right.

So that was yesterday, today and tomorrow. I'll be back on Tuesday evening and Smartypants will be in business (excellent Smartypants fodder) Wednesday morning.

Pray for me, I need a breakthrough. Muchos besas y gracias felicidad.


hee hee

for a letter from Richy (the bigger one)

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The Official on the Clarks Move

To our MCF family,

First of all, please forgive me for not writing an official letter sooner. I want to fill you in on all the exciting things that are happening with our family for ’08. I’m going to state these things from a very personal level, as I hope to answer some of the questions I’ve heard regarding these changes.

As many of you know, Jess and I lost our twins in 2004. Up until that time, I was fairly familiar with having a strong direction for my life in ministry, having served locally as a youth leader, then launching out with Radiant Ministry. After 2004, we felt God re-arranging things in our lives. We were to slow things down with Radiant and focus locally for a season, while still taking some ministry opportunities abroad. We helped with several prayer initiatives, and spent a year doing the Rad Rev outreach at Sanctuary Church. I am very encouraged to see the Holy Spirit emphasizing prayer through MCF, and am personally confident that many things have been set in place, by God, for a sustained manifestation of Himself in Montgomery Co! (as the Lord would have it) Also, Charles has launched his Friday outreach at Sanctuary to the college age, which is going well, and giving many young people an opportunity to serve and grow in their walks with God.

For the last few years, I’ve been receiving many words and dreams regarding the Lord bringing us through a season of discipline and training, for future ministry. Much of these past 3 years have been that, including 1 year spent back in the “normal” workforce! Jess and I have been through, what many ministers know as, a “stripping process.” This is where we get to see what we are made of! Not fun, but necessary for all of us who want to go strong for God!

Hos. 6:1-3 says,
“Come, and let us return to the LORD; For He has torn, but He will heal us;
He has stricken, but He will bind us up. After two days He will revive us; On the third day He will raise us up, That we may live in His sight.
Let us know, Let us pursue the knowledge of the LORD. His going forth is established as the morning; He will come to us like the rain…”

The third day (year) is here for Jess and I, it’s resurrection time! I believe the Lord has knit our hearts together with the MCF congregations through all of these trials Jess and I have been through,. The prayer support of our church family has been an exceedingly great comfort and I believe will bear much fruit for the kingdom through our lives and our children! I have learned a lot about leaning and being carried these last few years. This is true “body life,” as the Scripture states ”bearing one another's burdens.” I do not believe this bond has to change, no matter what venture our Father has for the Clark family, and I hope to stay knit together in love.
During our trip to Nashville 7/7/7, Jess and I felt strongly impressed to spend a season in Kansas City, with the IHOP and Call ministries. This truly came as a “left field” impression, and was confirmed by several influential people in our lives, even during the trip. Looking back, Jess discovered multiple dreams in my dream journal about a time in Kansas City, including one she had. (Though I’ve always interpreted them differently, as many times man does.) After a few weeks of prayer and some counsel, …and a few more dreams during this time; we made the decision to go with, what we are convinced, is God’s plan for a season. We view this as not only a special ministry assignment, but a time for Jess and I to get “filled” with the heart and vision God has for our lives. (We’ve been torn, but now comes the rain) We will be serving this season as missionaries in the house of prayer, and volunteering our time to the Call as well. This is a very uncomfortable place for me, as I am familiar with a full time worship / preaching ministry, but not this! I could see God, if He wills, using our time in KC to even bless Montgomery County! Oh God is so much bigger than us! Jess and I will be raising $2000.00 in monthly support beginning in December. We would love for our friends and family to partner with us for God’s kingdom purposes.

Trials tend to cause the natural man to recoil into himself. I feel like our church family has been so gracious to us during this great season of trial. “Each man’s work will be tested by fire.” I know by the grace of God that he is making us into humble, selfless servants who will live every moment in love. May His kingdom come! “We will all be changed!”

- Richy Clark and family
--
We are starting a new prayer and financial support page under
http://www.richyclark.com which will have updates and online support!

Also, I excited about our new CD! Check out a sample at http://www.radiantworship.com Much love -R

Richy is doing really well. We have to make an appointment with the neurologist for 3 weeks or so from now, and we'll be able to talk medication then. The stuff he is on is ruining his teeth, and this higher dosage keeps him a little groggy. I'll take groggy over seizures any day, but maybe there's a better option.

It's a weird place, to be praying for his healing but planning for things to stay the same. Like drugs and action plans and so on...
Here's the thing- I don't think it's God's will for R2 to stay this way. I think God wants to heal him. All the way. I just don't know how to "make" that happen. So I will pray, and wait.
In the meantime, I do enjoy him.... he is such a funny, goofy little guy.

Toby is practicing his ear-piercing screech. No, not just now. All the time. That's right, all screaming, all the time. This has to be a phase. It has to. Otherwise, it will never end. I choose phase.

Ms. Smartypants is back in business! Ask your questions, maybe get an answer! Questions of a general nature can be submitted today through Monday morning, and will be answered (or not) Monday at naptime!

Also, I said it the other day pre-crisis, new pictures on me picture blahg. Comment-vous!

This is a familiar feeling, coming home from the hospital. So relieved and so grateful to have a backseat full of voices.

Last night, they started talking about possibly letting us go home, but we knew that could change if one doctor wanted to observe him longer, or he didn't meet this standard or that one. So we waited, and waited. R2 got really sick of the room, so they unhooked his monitors and IV's (they were still in, just capped) and he explored the room a little, and went down to the playroom and conquered the Potatoheads, and so on. All day I had to force him to eat Jello, because he had to eat something and his throat was so raw from the ventilator. Later, they brought in a tray of meatloaf and mac and cheese, and he inhaled it. Poor kid. I guess he just doesn't care for Jello.
Finally, the Neurology team showed up. The head of Neurology is Dr. Slopis, and he was there when R2 was in the NICU there. I remember him sitting with us for a long time, showing us the CT scans (in 1999) and explaining where the blood was, and what had happened in R2's brain, and what it would probably mean, long term. So here he is, 8 years later. And he remembered us, and remembered those scans. He walked in saying, "This can't be a 24 weeker!" He was just so excited and upbeat. The MRI, CT, and EEGs had all come back good, no further brain damage or issues with the shunt. (we're already talking miracles)

Now, being well versed in this routine, I am feeling a little nervous. Because you answer one question wrong, and not only are you spending another night in the hospital, but the little guy is probably getting stuck and prodded and scanned and it's miserable. So Dr. Slopis asks us if he can walk, since the seizure. And I am nervous, because he has been walking, but he's irritable and wobbly (R2), so we go for a little walk with the team of neurologists watching. And I'm down the hall watching them watch us walk, and I'm in that realm. But get this, R1 is in the room with the docs, and Dr. Slopis is shaking his head and saying, "Amazing."

He is marveling at how the child he knows should be non-functional, if even alive, is such a miracle. They are watching him hobble down the hall with wonder.
About an hour later, we were driving home.

Thank you all so much for praying. We have turned the corner on this thing, praise God.

R2 had a bad seizure yesterday afternoon. He didn't stop seizing when he normally would, and was not getting good oxygen and starting to struggle to breathe, so we took him into the ER. After another 20+ minutes, he was still seizing a lot. They gave him a drug to stop the seizure, and he stopped breathing. So they called a code, and everybody rushed in from everywhere and it looked like, for a little while, that we might lose him. God intervened, and we prayed through that. He was intubated (put on a ventilator) and life-flighted to Hermann downtown.

Here, he started coming out of the sedation but was still really groggy. They ran an MRI and CT scan (these are brain scans) and several Xrays. Late last night he started waking up enough to want the ventilator out, NOW. He was gagging and bucking and really, really mad. We had to really fight for it, but we got the ventilator removed.

It's not funny, but he is such a peaceful, placid kid, and he was furious. He was screaming at the nurses. "NO! NO! CALM DOWN! NO!" We were trying not to laugh at the poor baby because he was about to start flipping hospital beds. Good sign.
He calmed down once everyone quit touching him, and then he started getting sad.

He fought sleep all night because he couldn't lay on his tummy. Several times he flipped over and disconnected his cannula and occluded IVs and wrapped cords all around him, and they would have to come flip him back. Finally this morning they figured out a massive cast-like thing to secure his IV, and then he was able to sleep on his stomach for a while.

Now, he's almost back. He's really jittery and irritable from the pain, but talking and I made him laugh a couple of times.
We've been moved to a less critical area of the ICU, and we should be able to talk to the doctors in a couple of hours.

Good reports, the CT scan and the MRI both look good. So, it is probably not his shunt malfunctioning.
They are doing an EEG now, which measures what's going on brain-wave/seizure wise.

We love you all, and thank you so much for all the prayer and support. Please keep praying.