(Two whole days later and I'm still committed. Impressive. Let us pause while I pat myself on the back.)
As of 11:31 PM, we're up to 62 confirmed coats. WOOT!
(Hmmm.... I think you might have to be attempting 'ironically dorky' in order to make WOOT work. I am not exactly the ironic type, more of the actual type.)
(But still. Woot!)
If you're still on the fence about dropping the cash, just think - for around twenty bucks you can walk past the bell ringers this Christmas feeling fairly virtuous. It's a bargain my friends.
Think about what you waste twenty bucks on every week of your life:
- Random crap at Target that you never intended to buy (it is impossible to leave Target without spending $100 - I think this may be a law of nature)
- Food you will never actually eat from Costco, because it was on sale (twenty years later you will open your pantry and wonder why you thought you needed a case of trail mix) (answer: you probably didn't)
- Cafe Rio. Again.
- Doughnuts (just me?)
But I'll leave you with this - one of my friends has been involved in refugee service projects before. One of the families they worked with only had ONE coat. And the four kids TOOK TURNS wearing it.
THEY TOOK TURNS.
Last week Fernando and I took a little trip to Primary Children's hospital so they could strap him to a table, insert an IV and catheter and scan his kidney function for 45 minutes. They had to try three different catheters before finding one that would work. So - insert catheter, withdraw catheter, insert, withdraw, insert, withdraw.
Fernando was not medicated during this procedure.
Fernando was NOT pleased.
The picture above was taken with my crappy flip cell phone camera and therefore does not allow you to see the tears rolling down his cheeks, or the "WHY, WHY, WHY would you betray me like this mother" look he kept shooting me. It was awful.
Possibly I fell apart and leaked tears all over his chubby, little baby hands for the entire 45 minute procedure. Possibly.
Later in the day, after a related test and one rather jaw dropping diaper explosion, we met with his specialist, who said that he's completely fine. His kidneys are swollen but it should clear up on its own - no surgery or medication needed. It was fantastic news.
Fernando would like to acknowledge all of the people who sent us well wishes and prayers and love (he refers to them as his vampire groupies, vain little thing) by sharing one of the gigantic smiles he just started handing out this week, but you know how those vampires are - afraid of bright lights. (Or is it mirrors that vampires are afraid of? Vampires confuse me.)
He went from moderately agreeable to completely freaked out in the space of four flashes.
Ah, well... Maybe he'll be ready for the paparazzi another day.
(Fernando promises NOTHING.)
He's been on Prevacid for a couple of weeks now, and the change in him is amazing. He still has reflux, but he's no longer in constant pain. He smiles and he coos and is generally pretty delightful. He sleeps like a two month old (as he should), but we are enjoying him so much. He is the sweetest, dearest little baby.
Oh, hey! Look, we're talking about coats again!
(You've been biting your fingernails in anticipation, right?)
(Look at this cool graphic TJ made! Thanks TJ!)
If you'd like to get involved, just start spreading the word. Talk about it on your blog, or on Facebook, or Twitter, or whatever works for you. If you end up blogging about it, let me know. Eventually I may compile a list of the links and post it here so that people can check out what other folks are doing.
The shipping/drop-off address for donations is:
Att: 100 Coats for Kids Project
Refugee Center at AAU
1588 South Major Street
Salt Lake City, Utah 84115
If you end up sending a coat, please let me know when/how many so we can keep track of our progress and so I can keep our contacts at the Refugee Services Office and AAU updated.
If you're local, and you want to donate coats but don't want to ship them, you can drop them off at the center, or you can email me, and I'll come pick them up. (Door to door service, people. Door to door. Just think - you can see me in all of my multi-chinned, non-Photoshopped glory. LUCKY, LUCKY YOU.)
This whole thing keeps making me think of A Little Princess, of the two hungry, freezing children in the attic, and of the Indian gentleman who secretly brings them warm clothing and food.
Not that we're doing anything huge. It's a small thing - an easy thing. We probably feel more virtuous for doing this kind of stuff than we really should.
In the book, Sara says, "Somehow, something always happens just before things get to the very worst. It is as if Magic did it."
And I guess that's the lucky thing for us - now and then, we get to be part of the magic.
Now go forth and get your coat mojo on.
PS: Tracy - you won! I'll email the gift card to you this morning.