Stew Pit

We have relatively mild language around here, as it should be I guess. Even though the antics of 4 growing, crazy monkeys sometimes warrants 4 letter word responses, we try our darndest (or is it dangdest?) to refrain. We have even outlawed certain other words that are just not nice in general. Words like stupid and hate, for example. Unfortunately today, these are the only words that come to mind.


School started today for us. School is stupid. I hate school. No, really. I HATE school and I think it is really, really STUPID.

Especially this year. This year has been a kicker for me. Harrison is now in first grade, which means all. day. long. Morning at school, lunch at school, and not being done with school until late afternoon.

It's been hard with both kids. But now as I come home with only 2 of the 4 chickies I woke up with, my sadness increases exponentially. When dropping them off at preschool, I cried in the car. When leaving them at kindergarten, I shed more than a few tears in the hallway. And now, as the daily population at home has been mercilessly cut in half (a little dramatic, I know), I quietly sob the whole walk home.


I miss them like crazy. Every single moment they are gone.


Abigail starts to feel nervous the night before the first day, and even more so the night before the second day. By the time she falls asleep though, she is feeling better. She approaches her new class with just a little trepidation, but once we get inside the school she's good and doesn't need me to accompany her into the classroom anymore. Harrison puts on a brave and excited face during the whole getting ready process, but at the very last minute feels the panic. While we were waiting in line today to go into class he turned to me and said "can't you come in with me, mom? I just want you to come with me. " To which I replied "I can't this time, buddy. But you are going to do just great". Ugh. My heart shattered right there on the sidewalk in front of the first grade door. I took off my glasses and did the old pretend to rub my face/really wiping tears trick that never fools anyone.

And this is when the questions and worries start to plague me. Have I done enough for them while they were in my constant daily care? Did I pack their days with enough fun, love, and good memories to sustain them while they are gone? Did I take enough advantage of the time when they were little and I had them all to myself? Have I taught them enough about themselves and the gospel to keep them strong in the face of all these new challenges? You know, the ones that I can't be there to help them navigate. Is it ever really enough? Really?

There were a few of those moms there today that I just send the stink eye to. As soon as all these little tiny kids were inside, they threw their arms into the air and shouted for joy. Seriously. I don't get that at all. The day that all of my guys are in school all day will be so lonely. Sure, I will be able to get a bunch of stuff done during the day, but that's the stuff I really don't want to do anyway. The only really fun stuff involves people who are a whole lot shorter than me.

I know that I have to let them grow and do things on their own. It's good for them, and I know this. But just like immunizations and visits to the dentist, it hurts. I think me more than them. So, we just press on. It reminds me to cherish every moment I have with them, and to do more with the time I have. I have to do my best with what I've got and when I've got them. When they want a cold lunch I'll make sure to put in a note that reminds them of how smart, talented, and fun they are, and how much I can't wait to see them. Plus, I'll fill it with only one healthy thing and the rest just treats and things they really like. Today, Leah and I will read every single book that she has on her bookshelf, and I will rock Hudson until he falls asleep in my arms. And we will be so excited when Abigail and Harrison are done with school, and will probably run up to them as soon as we see a glimpse of their cute little faces at the school doors. I'm sure they'll both have something very exciting and new to tell us. We'll be all ears. I can't wait.


5 weeks, and 4 more days until they are off track, and counting.

Mom License - Rejected!

So, I knew that I was really, REALLY late in scheduling Hudson's 1 year doctor visit. Yes, I can see you scrolling down to see when he actually turned 1 and how long it has been. Let me save you the trouble. He turned 1 in March. It is now the end of July. Yes, I know, he is in fact a little bit older than 1 year old. I know, I know. But doctor visits, especially well child checkups, and especially during ANY type of outbreak (cold, flu, chicken pox, H1 whatever) are not a high priority. So sue me. When I finally got him scheduled for his checkup, I patted myself on the back and went on with herding the chickens, I mean children.

The day came for him to visit our wonderful and sweet pediatrician, Dr. Brasher. Carolyn, his nurse, came in first to do the initial measurements. Then she pulled up his chart and there was a moment of quiet and confusion. "Did you bring his immunization card?" Why, yes, I certainly did! I am such a prepared and fantastic mom! Go on, admire me! Then Carolyn said "I thought our records were wrong. Your card is the same as what I show here. He has not received any of his immunizations since his 6 month shots."

Huh? I know I'm bad at doctor visits, but am I really THAT bad? Apparently so. That is when Dr. Brasher came in and reviewed all the measurements, nutrition, and safety information pertaining to a TWELVE MONTH OLD. He knows Hudson is older than this. He really knows that Hudson is older than 6 months, but he is trying to be nice.

Then he starts adding up all the shots that we are behind and tells me "he needs 8 immunizations today to catch him up." and then he waits for all the guilt to knock me over. At this point I start shamefully apologizing to my little guy. "We can combine a couple of them so that he is only getting 6 pokes today. But, you need to schedule him for another appointment in 6 months to complete the series". I nod in complete submission and give Hudson another guilt ridden kiss.

And then it happened. He asked me to surrender my mother licence. He puts me on probation and sternly tells me that if, in the next 6 months, any one of the kids cross the street without looking both ways, if they venture any further than the front porch without shoes on, if they leave the house without their hair done, clothes on right sided and matching, or in church shoes with white socks, I may lose it permanently. All this with a disappointed expression and a finger waving in my face. Of course this may have just been my guilty conscience reprimanding me like Jimminy Cricket, but I swear I heard the good doctor say it.

Then Hudson is pinned down by the best mother in the world, and I assist Carolyn while she pokes him 2 times in each leg, and once in each arm. He sits up on the bed and starts to rub his own biceps while crying with a look on his face that seemed to say "See Lady?!? This is why I won't say mama!!". As if the guilt couldn't get any worse.

We bolted out of there as fast as we could, what with me hanging my head and all. I took him and all of the siblings out for lunch with dad, and then to the Bean Museum as an apology. Hudson seemed to accept it. Especially when I bought him a stuffed lion to hold while walking through the animals. It was the least I could do.

And that next appointment? I'll call and schedule that really soon. I promise. We just have to get through the first days of school, and then after piano lessons, and then... and then....

It Was Awesome Again - Attempt #2

I am so gluttin'. For punishment, that is.

We decided to give the ol' camping another go. We made plans with some of my absolutely favorite people on this great green earth; our neighbors, the Christensen's. They are wonderful and the only thing I can find wrong with them is that they don't live close enough. They live across the street from us, as opposed to next door. You see their weakness.

The thinking was that we could do just a close to home overnighter. Lisa is my kind of camper. She likes to be able to see the city from the campsite, and she is deathly afraid of bears so we don't go very high up into the "nature". Perfect. Plus, she is fascinating and amazingly interesting. I love to discuss anything with her. I could listen to her describe her girls' shoes, and come away thinking that they probably have the most intelligent shoes ever. I'm betting that with her around, this camping trip just might change my opinion on the topic of roughin' it.

They make the arrangements for Hobblecreek Canyon, about 45 minutes from our house. We load up and take off on time, which constitutes a camping miracle in and of itself. Maybe this time will be better! Maybe it will be fun!! Maybe Lisa is my personal camping angel!!! We start the drive and stop in Springville for a directional pow-wow.


This is when the camping trip fell back into the awesome category.


Harrison tells us that his stomach hurts and immediately takes off his seat belt to get out of the car. We make it to a gas station trash can (eww) where he empties the contents of his belly. Nice. We are thinking and hoping out loud that this is just an episode of carsickness - never mind that Harrison has never gotten carsick in his entire life. Lisa and I go inside the convenience store; she for a caffeine fix, me for a bunch of the biggest cups they have to use as impromptu puke pails, just in case. I will never look at those giant cups the same.

We successfully make it to the campsite which is definitely the best one in the campground. It was secluded, had nice tables and a fire pit, and was placed right on the edge of a lovely stream. Beautiful. We tried to soak up all the fresh air and the sound of the rushing water, all the while Harrison was sitting on the ground clutching his stomach. When he used the last of his barf buckets, I made the decision to take the boys home, much to Harrison's dismay. "No, mom. I feel much better" he said as his face drained of all color. "I don't want to leave Grace and Brynn. I'll be just fine". Good times. No, really. Good times.

The drive home was okay. He fell asleep before we had traveled half a mile from the campsite. He only threw up two more times in the car, and then we were home. He and his pale little face collapsed into my bed, and there we rested while Jeb and the girls slept in the tent. Me and Mr. Pukey, or Jeb and the tent. I still haven't decided who had the worst end of the stick.

When we woke up the next morning, Harrison was feeling much better. Just one of those little bugs, I guess. We loaded up the car, again, and went back up the mountain to get the rest of our clan. We had breakfast up with the group and even managed a small hike. It ended up being really pleasant.

I did miss out on the adult late night fireside discussions, but hopefully there will be more of those later on. That's right. I just hoped for another go at camping. Maybe I'm getting used to all the awesomeness. Maybe.

Look! Up In The Sky!

Faster than a metastasizing cancer cell! Stronger than chemotherapy side effects! Able to leap tall IV poles in a single bound! Braver than, well anyone I've ever known. It's.........

SUPER MOM!!!

Post chemo CT results are in! All the small tumors are (I'd say magically, but it isn't magically. She worked too hard to say magically) miraculously (yeah, that's better) GONE!! The ones that were bigger to start with are now incredibly small, and decreasing in size as I type.

She is now on a chemo furlough. A hair sprouting vacation. And seriously folks, can you think of anyone who deserves that more? Go on. I dare you to try.

Our super hero will still have to visit the Grand Vista Huntsman every 3 weeks to receive a blood vessel blocker and a bone strengthener (which I think is totally wasted. How much tougher can they make this woman?). She will continue to have testing every 9 weeks or so.

Super mom is gaining strength by the minute. If you thought she looked good 3 weeks ago at her last chemo session, you should see her now. Radiant comes to mind. As does vibrant, glowing (the fuzz on her head seriously gives her a halo; as if she really needed one), and as always amazingly inspiring. Super good job, super mom. You are our hero.