February Birthdays



Yes I made this!

Valentines 'adult table'

Happy Birthday Princess Pie #6!!

Putting those kids to work!!!

This was clear back in January but you get the idea...

Valentines 'kids table'

Blue and Gold

This magician was amazing.  Sport ended up being the hit of the show.  Innocence has it's advantages.

Bing + Meli B-day

When you get that kind of news....

This post is dedicated to my loved ones dealing with unexpected news.  I love you and I know the Lord will guide and support you.  I may have blogged part of this before but I thought I would put it all together.

(One day in August 2002) 18.5 weeks gestation
Heavy and gray.  For August it was unexpected weather.  It had been raining for a couple of days.  Three months earlier much to my shock, I found out I was pregnant with our 2nd baby.  The shock came because I had an IUD in place.  So much for birth control.  With the removal of the IUD there is a risk of miscarriage, but so far this baby was doing just fine.  It was the day of the big ultrasound.  The big unveiling of the gender of this baby.  Another boy or would we get a girl this time?  I worked that morning and I kept telling my clients "I don't care if it's a boy or a girl, as long as it's healthy".  Isn't that what you hear people say all the time?  I was meeting Brian at the doctors office.  On the way there I called him because I had this uneasy feeling.  A little nag in the back of my brain that wouldn't go away.  I said to him, "What if it's not ok?"  " What if he or she is not healthy"  Typical Brian response "Then we will just deal with it."

Ultrasound:  First shot on the screen before the tech could even ask if we wanted to know the gender; I could tell, clearly we were having another boy.  I was excited, Cambridge and this little baby would be best buds.  Then the tech got quiet, as in really quiet.  The kind of quiet you know isn't right.  Finally the tech said he was seeing some markers for Down Syndrome.  There are something like 27 markers and this baby had three of them.  There was a thickening at his neck, there was echogenic focus on his heart (calcified spot, but all I heard was problems with the heart) and he couldn't see his stomach.  Which meant the baby didn't have a stomach, or quite possibly it wasn't connected to the esophagus.  He then said it could possibly be he was wrong  and we should get a second opinion.  The first thing I felt was shock.  Literal astonishment.  My brain was in slow motion trying to register everything he just said.  They ushered us upstairs to meet with my OB.  I love my doctor but she tells it how it is.  She said this tech was one of the best and she said based on his findings she would agree this baby had Downs.  And then she proceeded to go into all of the health issues and stresses that go along with Downs children...not to mention the baby may not even survive birth. By Utah law we had 10 days to decide if we were aborting or seeing this to term.
She said she was so sorry and we left.

It was still raining outside.  My tears started and wouldn't stop; much like the rain.
I called my mom, and through gut wrenching sobs  gave her a brief update on the situation.  For me, a girl who loves her siblings and friends, I found it strange but I didn't want to talk to anyone.  I wanted to crawl inside a dark hole and not come out.  I felt like my chest had been opened and literally there was a gorilla sized hand squeezing my heart.  I hadn't even met this baby yet and I was grieving for a normal life that would never be.  It was the death of a dream.  My hopes and aspirations for this baby that were not going to happen.  It wasn't until this last September when my Dad died that I realized this type of grief is totally different.  When my Dad died I was shocked because it happened unexpectedly and saddened, but I felt peace.  In the days after this ultrasound I didn't feel peace.   I felt a heaviness that I thought would never ever go away.  I felt like I would never smile again, I would never feel joy, and if it was going to hurt this much how in the world was I going to go on functioning as a normal mom for Cambridge?

We did get a second opinion and they did an amnio to genetically confirm the Down Syndrome.  When they called with the results I remember them saying you have a week to decide if you are keeping this pregnancy.  We prayed and pondered, and talked with our Bishop and Stake President.  Their counsel was that they would love and support us no matter what we decided.  Now before you judge me or anyone else in that situation and say, "oh I would never never even consider an abortion"  you have to weigh all the facts.  It wasn't just the Downs, there were lots of other known and unknown health concerns.  Having a special needs child changes your life, for the rest of your life.  I prayed and honestly felt peace about aborting this baby and raising him in the Resurrection.  Brian said, "He is our son and we will love him and take care of him as long as we are able."  Ok so Brian was obviously the one in-tune with the spirit, but try as I might I could not find any peace around the decision to keep this baby.

Sometimes you have to wait for it:  About two weeks later we had gone to Bear Lake.  I was functioning but barely.  I had a dream that night that I delivered this baby and when I looked at the baby I saw the most perfect beautiful baby boy.  In the dream I said to the doctor, "look he doesn't have Downs"  She looked at the baby and then at me and said, "you need to look again"  When I looked again I saw the slanted eyes, and the squishy nose, and the extra small ears.  Somewhere in the room a deep male voice said, "he wanted you to see him for who he really is"  and then I felt the peace.

Raising this boy has not been an easy journey.  Those first 3 weeks in the NICU about did us in.  And that was just the beginning of the ride.  Many times I have cried out, "I can NOT do this"  and always there is a prompting or literally someone there that says "yes you can".  So if you are in pain or in a place where you think you can't....you can, I know you can.... You will see the sun, feel the warmth again on your face, and feel the peace and happiness in your heart.

Kid to kid

I went in for a jog stroller. Bubba had other ideas.

Carpe Diem

I love this, Thanks Kath for sending to me.

From Momastery.com

Every time I’m out with my kids, this seems to happen:

An older woman stops us, puts her hand over her heart and says something like, “Oh. Enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast.”

Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seizethe moment, raise my awareness, be happy, enjoy every second, etc, etc, etc.

I know that this message is right and good. But as 2011 closes, I have finally allowed myself to admit that it just doesn’t work for me. It bugs me. This CARPE DIEM message makes me paranoid and panicky. Especially during this phase of my life, while I’m raising young kids. Being told in a million different ways to CARPE DIEM makes me worry that if I’m not in a constant state of intense gratitude and ecstasy, I’m doing something wrong.

I think parenting young children (and old ones, I’ve heard) is a little like climbing Mount Everest. Brave, adventurous souls try it because they’ve heard there’s magic in the climb. They try because they believe that finishing, or even attempting the climb, are impressive accomplishments. They try because during the climb, if they allow themselves to pause and lift their eyes and minds from the pain and drudgery, the views are breathtaking. They try because even though it hurts and it’s hard, there are moments that make it worth the hard. These moments are so intense and unique that many people who reach the top start planning, almost immediately, to climb again. Even though any climber will tell you that  most of the climb is treacherous, exhausting, killer. That they literally cried most of the way up.

And so I think that if there were people stationed, say, every thirty feet along Mount Everest yelling to the climbers: “ARE YOU ENJOYING YOURSELF!? IF NOT, YOU SHOULD BE! ONE DAY YOU’LL BE SORRY YOU DIDN’T! TRUST US!! IT’LL BE OVER TOO SOON! CARPE DIEM!” those well-meaning, nostalgic cheerleaders might be physically thrown from the mountain.

Now. I’m not suggesting that the sweet old ladies who tell me to ENJOY MYSELF be thrown from a mountain. These are wonderful ladies. But last week, a woman approached me in the Target line and said the following: “Sugar, I hope you are enjoying this. I loved every single second of parenting my two girls. Every single moment. These days go by so fast.”

At that particular moment, Amma had swiped a bra from the cart and arranged  it over her sweater, while sucking a lollipop undoubtedly found on the ground. She also had three shop-lifted clip-on neon feathers stuck in her hair. She looked exactly like a contestant from Toddlers and Tiaras. A losing contestant. I couldn’t find Chase anywhere, and Tish was sucking the pen from the credit card machine  WHILE the woman in front of me was trying to use it. And so I just looked at the woman, smiled and said, “Thank you. Yes. Me too. I am enjoying every single moment. Especially this one. Yes. Thank you.”

That’s not exactly what I wanted to say, though.

There was a famous writer who, when asked if she loved writing, replied, “No. But I love havingwritten.” What I wanted to say to this sweet woman was, “Are you sure? Are you sure you don’t mean you love having parented?”

I love having written. And I love having parented. My favorite part of each day is when the kids are put to sleep (to bed) and Craig and I sink into the couch to watch some quality TV, like Celebrity Wife Swap, and congratulate each other on a job well done. Or a job done, at least.

Every time I write a post like this, I get emails suggesting that I’m being negative. I have received this particular message four or five times: G, if you can’t handle the three you have, why do you want a fourth?

That one always stings, and I don’t think it’s quite fair. Parenting is hard. Just like lots of important jobs are hard. Why is it that the second a mother admits that it’s hard, people feel the need to suggest that maybe she’s not doing it right? Or that she certainly shouldn’t add more to her load. Maybe the fact that it’s so hard means she IS doing it right…in her own way…and she happens to be honest.

Craig is a software salesman. It’s a hard job in this economy. And he comes home each day and talks a little bit about how hard it is. And I don’t ever feel the need to suggest that he’s not doing it right, or that he’s negative for noticing that it’s hard, or that maybe he shouldn’t even consider taking on more responsibility. And I doubt anybody comes by his office to make sure he’s ENJOYING HIMSELF. I doubt his boss peeks in his office and says: “This career stuff…it goes  so fast…ARE YOU ENJOYING EVERY MOMENT IN THERE, CRAIG???? THE FISCAL YEAR FLIES BY!! CARPE DIEM, CRAIG!”

My point is this. I used to worry that not only was I failing to do a good enough job at parenting, but that I wasn’t enjoying it enough. Double failure. I felt guilty because I wasn’t in parental ecstasy every hour of every day and I wasn’t MAKING THE MOST OF EVERY MOMENT like the mamas in the parenting magazines seemed to be doing. I felt guilty because honestly, I was tired and cranky and ready for the day to be over quite often. And because I knew that one day, I’d wake up and the kids would be gone, and I’d be the old lady in the grocery store with my hand over my heart. Would I be able to say I enjoyed every moment? No.

But the fact remains that I will be that nostalgic lady. I just hope to be one with a clear memory. And here’s what I hope to say to the younger mama gritting her teeth in line:

 “It’s helluva hard, isn’t it? You’re a good mom, I can tell. And I like your kids, especially that one peeing in the corner. She’s my favorite. Carry on, warrior. Six hours till bedtime.” And hopefully, every once in a while, I’ll add, “Let me pick up that grocery bill for ya, sister. Go put those kids in the van and pull on up–I’ll have them bring your groceries out.”

Anyway. Clearly, Carpe Diem doesn’t work for me. I can’t even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question.

Here’s what does work for me:

There are two different types of time. Chronos time is what we live in. It’s regular time, it’s one minute at a time, it’s staring down the clock till bedtime time, it’s ten excruciating minutes in the Target line time, it’s four screaming minutes in time out time, it’s two hours till daddy gets home time. Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in.

Then there’s Kairos time. Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. Kairos is those magical moments in which time stands still. I have a few of those moments each day, and I cherish them.

Like when I actually stop what I’m doing and really look at Tish. I notice how perfectly smooth and brownish her skin is.  I notice the perfect curves of her teeny elf mouth and her asianish brown eyes, and I breathe in her soft Tishy smell. In these moments, I see that her mouth is moving but I can’t hear her because all I can think is, This is the first time I’ve really seen Tish all day, and myGod – she is so beautiful. Kairos.

Like when I’m stuck in chronos time in the grocery line and I’m haggard and annoyed and angry at the slow check-out clerk. And then I look at my cart and I’m transported out of chronos. And suddenly I notice the piles of healthy food I’ll feed my children to grow their bodies and minds and I remember that most of the world’s mamas would kill for this opportunity. This chance to stand in a grocery line with enough money to pay. And I just stare at my cart. At the abundance. The bounty. Thank you, God. Kairos.

Or when I curl up in my cozy bed with Theo asleep at my feet and Craig asleep by my side and I listen to  them both breathing. And for a moment, I think, how did a girl like me get so lucky? To go to bed each night surrounded by this breath, this love, this peace, this warmth? Kairos.

These kairos moments leave as fast as they come–but I mark them. I say the word kairos in my head each time I leave chronos. And at the end of the day, I don’t remember exactly what my kairos moments were, but I remember I had them. And that makes the pain of the daily parenting climb worth it.

If I had a couple Kairos moments during the day, I call it a success.

Carpe a couple of Kairoses a day.

Good enough for me.

Gettin naked at church

We will call it temperature control.  Apparently yesterday in Primary Sport decided he was hot.  He took of his sweater.  He decided he was still "too hot" and took off his undershirt.  And because he was at the end of the row where in the corner, where the teacher couldn't quite see him he decided to take a few minutes in his half naked state and do some poses for the crowd.  Awesome

Chips and Popsicles

Seriously is this February or April?

Fingers and Toes

Princess Pie and her BFF
I took them to a local shop run by some women with heavy Asian accents.  It was all I could do to not burst out laughing as the little girls were trying to understand what they were saying.  Luckily they just smiled and giggled which is universal for happy.

Grounded

Master lost all electronic gadgets this week; always good to see your kids get into a book!