It Was Awesome

I must first begin this post with an explanation; a definition if you will. The word Awesome. I do not use this word in the conventional Utah way. I use it in my husband's absolute favorite way: brimming with sarcasm. So much sarcasm in fact, that my use of the word comes to mean the exact opposite. Let me give you some examples:

My neighbors barking dogs are awesome.

Hudson has this awesome scream that I love.

John-Erik thinks my extreme use of sarcasm is my most awesome trait.

See how it works? Let us begin...

So me and my awesome hair (there it is!) had a birthday last week. And, a little while ago, I consented to this awesome idea of going on a camping road trip which just so happened to coincide with that day.

Now, let me tell you. I don't really enjoy camping. I could really say that I DISlike camping. Intensely. Some things about camping are super yuck. Actually, most of it. Camping is right up there in awesome point value with some of my other favorites - babies crying in their car seats for hours on end, kids who are uncooperative and ill behaved, and cars that break down at the most inopportune time. Was that sentence loaded with foreshadowing? Are you intrigued now? Read on, dear friend! Read on!

I have to admit that my attitude was awesome. It was completely in the toilet, in fact, in regards to this trip. If I have ever done anything "for the kids" this was it. I was scoring mother points in heaven left and right on this one, I tell you.

We began packing Friday morning. Abigail kept bringing me her brand new clothes, most of which were white, beige, and/or still had their tags on them. Then she became all sassy pants when I patiently told her to get old clothes that could be ruined by camping. It was a back and forth battle of wills all morning. Awesome event #1.

We made it out by Friday afternoon to go and pick up our good friend, Ryan. He completes our anti-polygamous family as our brother-husband. I know, I am a lucky girl. You are so jealous. Don't deny it. We stopped at WalMart to gather supplies, and away we went to Bryce Canyon.

We thought we had it timed that we could leave just as Hudson was going to need a nap, so he would sleep in the car on the way down. That worked for all of about 23 minutes. By the time we got to Provo (which was our first potty stop. That's right- 23 minutes into our trip we stopped for the bathroom) he was awake. And mad. Really mad. His car seat became his mortal enemy, and he had to voice that loudly and continuously. With every mile that ticked away, his face became redder and redder. Poor Ryan. He is not used to the wails of Hudson. The rest of us have learned to try and tune him out, but Ryan's untrained ears had to suffer, I'm afraid. Awesome event #2.

We made it to Panguitch and Ryan treated us to a wonderful pizza dinner. The pizza was huge and filled our stomachs and refreshed my will to live. We could make it to the campsite! We could! And, hopefully (fingers crossed) before dark. No such luck. All the potty breaks and the late start cost us the daylight and Ryan and Jeb had to struggle to get things together for my whiny self and the 4 equally whiny kids in the dark. How they managed, I will never know. We slept just fine (except for Jeb, since I didn't blow up a mattress for him - that'll teach him!!) once we managed to wrestle Hudson from sitting on Leah's head and lay down.

The next morning, Jeb and Ryan took Abigail on a hike while the rest of us babies slept. I woke up to the boys cooking eggs and potatoes for breakfast and getting ready to heat up the oil to make us scones. After we all had dough filled bellies, we were off to see the sights. Bryce canyon is beautiful and amazing.

We started with the museum and visitors center where Abigail found a cougar...

And I found a Ute.

My find is way cuter than hers.

Bryce canyon has hikes all over that are really kid friendly. They try and keep the drop offs fenced so as to keep the yung 'uns from falling to their demise. But Harrison is no ordinary yung 'un. We had to pull him away from the edge so many times I lost count. Fun, huh? It is so awesome to turn your head and see your boy dangling at the edge of destruction. The topper was when we made it to a place called Rainbow Bridge, and Harrison bolted from the car to see the view. I was unloading Leah and Hudson when I saw a man trying to flag me down and pointing at Harrison in a dramatic fashion, trying to tell him to get down. I go up to Harrison and find that he is climbing on the top rung of the fence, which is on the edge of a cliff with like a million foot drop. The poor man who didn't speak English was panicked. I wasn't panicked. I was angry, to say the least. Awesome event #3.

After we see the view at Rainbow Bridge, we all pile back into the car to carry on. This is when the most awesome thing happened. The car revolted. It dug in its heels and would not start. We tried and tried again. Nothing. Just the bing, bing, bing of it trying to tell us that we had left the keys in. We waited a little bit and tried again. Zippo. We unplugged devices and tried again. Zilch. Our 2 accountants (not mechanics) Ryan and Jeb popped the hood and tried to diagnose the problem. It was a mystery. Super Awesome event #4.

Then it was decided that Ryan would try and find a ride back to the lodge and see if he could get help. So we sat and waited in our traitor car until he returned. After an hour or so, Ryan came driving up in a HUGE YELLOW tow truck with a mechanic named Billie. Billie popped the hood and in about 3.2 seconds had the car running. He followed us to the fix-it shop and had 'er going again as good as new in about 15 minutes. I loved Billie, and told him so. Abigail decided that Billie should be in line to become Mr. B, and I agreed (completely inside joke. My apologies).

We made it back to the camp and Jeb threw together some sloppy joes for dinner. The sun was starting to set so the bigguns and the men took to a hike for star gazing. Leah, Hudson, and myself stayed back. After we were all reunited, Jeb managed to get Hudson to sleep (putting himself to sleep in the process) and Ryan started a fire for smores. It was very nice. That is the one thing I like about camping. Fires at nighttime under the spectacular scenery. Who knew the sky could be so filled with stars? Heavenly.

We all (miraculously) made it home in the same amount of pieces we left with. Hudson did manage to sleep for most of the ride home, as did the rest of us.

Well, did you catch it? I certainly did. I did not set anything up. I did not do any cooking. I did not have to plan, execute, or clean up anything while on this trip. Despite my dislike of camping, and maybe in spite of the fact that we were camping, it was actually a really nice trip. We were all well taken care of by the men, even (totally undeservedly) spoiled - which made my crummy attitude hard to keep. All of our awesome adventures ended up working out, and even left a little room for some fun times and good memories. Camping is still not what I would have picked out for a birthday party, but we did have fun; thanks to Jeb and Ryan. My 2 camping heroes. They were fantastic. They did all the work; including the hardest job of all - putting up with cranky me.

Besides, my mom gave me a University of Utah blanket as a gift, and there is no way those BYU boys could have topped that. Seriously, though, what could?

Mom's Last Treatment

She did it!! She managed to keep her white cells up, her weight stable, and her spirits high (enough) to make it to her last chemo treatment on time. We came and visited her with some of the grand kids and had an orange juice parade to celebrate (you can see them all in her bag). After she was done, we all had lunch at the Huntsman cafeteria and watched the helicopters come and go. It was fun, but not as fun as leaving. We were so out of there. We didn't even let the door hit us on the way out.

Doesn't she look great?!? She did it. We all sit in amazement of my sweet, lovely mom.

Abigail

Abigail's Birthday

Abigail has successfully cracked the 9 year barrier. I can't believe my little preemie is now 9 years old. I was always focused on getting her to 8 when she could be baptized, so now that she is 9 she seems so terribly old. She is such a lovely 9 year old, though.

We worked incredibly hard to get her here. There has never been a baby more wanted or worked for, in my opinion. I can remember the months and months of failure. Every fast Sunday watching baby after baby being blessed was heartbreaking. As the months turned into years with painful tests and treatments that were unsuccessful, I was worn out and ready to give up. Maybe it just wasn't going to happen for us. The doctors told us that we were too young to really care anyway.

But then, one blissful Thursday night after work, my prayers were answered with a resounding yes. I went over to the maternity floor of the hospital I was working in (a very mean place to have the pregnancy tests, I think) to subject myself again to the monthly disappointment. The nurse who was with me, unknowing of my situation, reported the "positive" to me with a sigh. I jumped up and asked her if this was really true. She then was aware of the hopefulness I had come in with and became excited right along with me. I told her that even though I really didn't know her at all, I just had to give her a hug. "We have been trying for so long!!" I said. She told me that I had made her night, and off I went to spring the news on my ever patient and supportive husband.

That started our adventure. My pregnancy was wonderful. All those women who complained about being pregnant - Hah! What were they talking about? I was in complete heaven. Every morning I would have my breakfast of Doritos and root beer, and then my wiggly baby would make her flipping, flopping presence known at 10:00 on the dot. But then came the news that my body wasn't handling the pregnancy as it should. My blood pressure was getting to be too high. I was given steroid shots to help my little baby's lungs grow faster, and assigned to bed rest for the weekend. A few weeks after that, things weren't improving, and Abigail had to make her entrance earlier than expected.

She was so tiny. Her daddy's "little loaf of bread". She spent 8 days in the NICU, something that was expected to last longer. I hated seeing her in her isolette, all tethered to various tubes. She was still there for my birthday, a fact which brought me to tears. There seemed to be nothing good there. The doctors who didn't want me to persist in trying to breastfeed. They wanted the easy feeding tube instead. The nurses who didn't understand why I wanted to be informed if something were going to happen to her. Yes, I wanted to be alerted if she needed a new IV put in. Yes, I wanted to be alerted if she was going to have to have that feeding tube after all. Why is that so unreasonable?

But, eventually, after much persistence in feeding, she had gained enough weight and passed all their "tests" to be able to come home. And then it started. I had to set my alarm to wake her up to feed her every 3 hours. She was just too tired to wake up and eat. Looking back, I can't believe that I have kept her alive for 9 years.

She is still the smallest to this day. In kindergarten, when placed in a class with 2 other Abigail's, she was referred to as "little Abigail". She is shorter than kids who are younger than her, which I think is fantastic. The shortest girls are always the cutest.

She has an old soul. At school, she has just as many friends in the teachers and staff as she does in kids her own age. She can carry on a conversation with a "grown up" just as well as she can with the neighbor kids.

She is a smart cookie, that kid. She can argue and sass her way with the best of them. But, we still manage to get along even through all of that.

For her birthday, Abigail had a very detailed list of the things she wanted:

1- Headphones that go on top of your ears, not in your ears (check).

2- Twilight soundtrack (negative).

3-American Girl books (check in the form of a gift card from Tracy).

4-Notebooks (check, thanks Bo).

5-Pens (sparkle check, thanks Bo).

6-Music recorder (check).

7-Jonas Brother music (painful check, thanks a lot, Bo).

8-Jonas Brother, the movie (negative. It's not out on DVD and no way am I taking everyone to that in the theatres).

9-Tape recorder (check).

10-Beads, ocean, real (check, check, and check).

11-Webkinz (check fuzzy hippo, thanks Bo).

12-VIP Littlest Petshop (check duck, thanks Grandma).

13- Shining Stars (negative. How many "interactive" internet toys does a girl really need?).

14-Kit, the Movie (check).

15-Kit, the book series (check, again in the form of gift card thanks to aunt Tracy).

She also made her very own birthday cake - all by herself. Really, she did. She wanted brownies and did such a wonderful job.

I sure love you, my sweetheart. You make my days easier just by being your sweet, caring self. You make me happy every single day, and I am so glad to have you.

Abigail's 9 report:

Favorite things: the beach, the color turquoise, her parakeet (which is turquoise, by the way), going camping, music, going swimming, going on vacation, dancing, the ocean.

Favorite books: Lizzie McGuire mysteries, Little Genie, High School Musical 2 (which she had to read before she could see the movie), High School Musical 3 (which she had to read before she could see the movie), Enchanted (you get the idea about the movies), Pet Trouble, Under the Sea, Princess Collection, The Mermaid's Treasure.

Favorite Foods: Chinese food, homemade quiche, homemade mac and cheese, mac and cheese with white sauce, The Brick Oven Restaurant, fish, ham sandwiches, treats, and hard boiled eggs.

Favorite Animals: Parakeets, dogs, fish, whales, dolphins, sea turtles, stingrays, sharks, and seals.

Favorite Colors: Turquoise, aquamarine, blue-green, green-blue, teal, cerulean, aqua, cyan, and just plain blue.

My 9 proudest moments: When she was baptized, when she passed up a "Build a Bear" because we were saving up for our house, every report card, when she wanted to share her baptism with Hudson's blessing, when she shares her "makeup" with Leah, her piano recital, her dance recitals, when she ran to Harrison to help him back up the hill because he fell off his bike, when she cut her hair off for Grandma.

All I Want Is To Have Harrold Back!!!

Disclaimer: I have a cold, have only warm OJ in the house, am on about 57 (only a slight exaggeration) different medications, and am very, very grumpy. Just a warning about the tone of this post.

Yes, that title is a vague reference to Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. And yes, I WOULD give my last case of Wonka bars as ransom. What is being held for ransom you ask? No, not Harrold, but our yard. Let me explain....

Last year at this time we had new neighbors move in right next door. All right. Not so bad. They are an interesting couple, along with their 2 small children. A boy who is now almost 4, and a little girl who is now 1 1/2. Not so bad so far, right? Hang on to your britches, or whatever else you happen to be wearing.

We begin a relationship with said neighbors, and the kids begin a friendship with said children. This is where wackiness and problems ensue. You see, their now almost 4 year old is named, ironically, Ivan. I say ironically because he is just like Ivan the Terrible. Only our neighbor Ivan is not Russian. Other than that, they are just the same. They even look alike.

Our neighbor Ivan is an almost 4 year old trapped in the body of an 18 year old linebacker. He weighs about as much as I do. And he can push that weight around, boy howdy. The kid is a real bruiser. He has slapped Abigail in the face so hard it left a welt, all because she was walking him home to make sure he got there okay. He punches Harrison as often as he can. But poor Leah tends to get the brunt of him. He has pushed her off her bed (which is almost as high as the top bunk of a bunk bed). He has pinched her cheek (not scratched, not clawed, but pinched) so hard it bled. He has taught her very colorful language. Right after Thanksgiving he dumped a bucket of ice melt over her head. That was it for me.

Every time something happened, he was sent home. Or we took him home and confronted his mother. When these confrontations would take place, she would say "Ivan, did you hit/pinch/punch/assault and/or battery these kids?" To which his answer would ALWAYS be "Nope". She wouldn't believe him, but still a punishment was never carried through with. The entire winter was spent indoors or away from home. No just hanging out at home. It was too risky.

But now, it is summer. And around he comes again. He doesn't come to the door to play. He just waits until my guys are out in the front yard, and then attacks. The strict rule for my Oompa Loompas is that they always have to be nice and polite to him; not saying mean things or running away. But, if he hurts any one of them, they are to come in and not play with him anymore.

It was just a matter of time (minutes, really) that this scenario was put into action. Leah and Harrison were out riding their scooters for all of 48 seconds, when Harrison came in and told me that Ivan had put Leah in a headlock, and thrown her to the ground. In they come, and I tell Ivan to go home and tell his mom what had happened. After he does this (with lots and lots of forceful "encouragement") she then proceeds to send Ivan over to apologize to Leah. Harrison answers the door with Leah and, after Ivan apologizes, he tells Ivan that they are not going to play with him today because Ivan hurt his sister.

Apparently, this was not the thing to do.

I immediately receive a phone call from Ivan's mom telling me that Harrison was saying hurtful, damaging things and that Ivan was crying and can't my kids be nice and Ivan is just a little boy and I am raising wimps and we should just let them play and on and on and on!?! WHAT?!?! And then the kicker; "If your kids don't stop saying that Ivan is mean" she said "then I will start being mean to your kids". Needless to say, we are avoiding Ivan at all costs again.

So, you ask, can't you just keep the kids in the backyard and have them play there Ivan free? Don't I wish it were that easy. There are 2 main factors for making this solution unsolutionable.

1- They have a big deck which overlooks all of our neighborhood, but mainly our backyard. Ivan will stand on this throne of his and yell and yell and yell and yell at the kids to come and play with him, or to stop playing whatever they are playing and come talk to him, or yell at any other playmates that happen to be playing that they need to go home so that my kids can play with him, etc. And he stalks that porch as well as he stalks his front porch. Waiting, always waiting, for the kids to come out.

2- They have, against our city's code might I add, 3 dogs. 2 enormous dogs that have that really deep bark; and 1 little black dog with the classic yappy yap that is akin to nails on chalkboards, and makes you want to remove your eardrums yourself with a melon baller. These dogs have obviously been trained by Ivan himself as they begin to bark if we even whisper to the kids "why don't you go outside and play".

So, when the kids go into the backyard the only game they can play is either "Let's See How Loud the Dogs Will Bark", or "We Have To Stay On the Side of the House to Play in Secret", aka "The Avoiding Ivan Game".

If anybody has any ideas as to how to handle unruly, bully, crazy neighbors, let me know. Or if you have a case of Wonka bars you'd be willing to donate......

Zoo Field Trip

I went with Harrison on his first field trip to the zoo. Shouldn't all first field trips be to the zoo? Classic elementary school protocol. It was also his first time on a school bus. The excitement was overwhelming!!! The Bus!!! Hooray!!! It swerves like a rollercoaster with every turn!! It elicits screams of delight with every bump and jump over old potholes!!! It was the greatest day of his life since his dad won the Wii at the work summer party!!!! Yes, Harrison spoke with double and triple exclamation points about every new experience!!! Aren't kindergartners wonderful?

We had a small group, just Harrison and his friend Tyler. We were free to do whatever the boy's little rapid beating, excited hearts desired.

We watched the rhinos eat (and slobber right back out) whole apples and bananas, peels included. We participated in and watched the bird show - an every zoo trip requirement. We were sprayed with water by the elephant who will be ready to have her baby in July (I would spray people who stared at me in my last month of pregnancy, too).

But the best part of the day was at the end; and not just because we were done and going home. We wrapped up our visit with a Q&A session with the camel handlers. The boys each asked very intelligent questions. Is the hump really filled with water? Why are their humps different shapes? Why is that-camel-over-there's hump falling over? And then came the clincher.......

How do you tell a boy camel from a girl camel?

The handlers were very cute in their answer. "Well, just like you do in people. A boy looks like a boy, and a girl looks like a girl".

To which Harrison responded,

"Oh! A girl has more hair on her head, and a boy has less, right!?!"

Exactly right, Bubba. Field trip: success.

Bigger and Bigger

Things are moving along around here, as much as I try to stop them. It seemed overnight that all the kids had jumped into the next level of kid-dom. I don't like new levels of kid-dom. I like baby-dom much more.

Hudson decided to start walking around all the time. He will only do it if he is already standing up, since he hasn't figured out the standing himself up part. Details, details. He would rather be walking all the time, though. He is trying to give up the crawl. If he is down on the floor and trying to keep up with you, he will not crawl or try and get up. He will just walk on his knees, crying and pleading with you to just stand him up so that he can keep up.

Leah has began eliminating the Leah-ese from our house. One morning, she and I were lying in bed talking about the what's and when's of the day. She said to me "what are we having for LLLLLunch?" This took me quite by surprise. I said "for what?" And she said "for LLLLunch". As of the night before, she had never had lunch in her entire life. She had only partaken of "Yunch". Along with that, her name was "Yeah", Papa's motorcycle was "Youd", which she did not "Yike". But suddenly, that morning, she had grown out of it. It had vanished into the atmosphere. She also lost her FFF sound that she used for the TH sound. Example; "toof" is now "tooTH" with a very capital TH. She now goes to the baTHroom to brush her teeTH. I miss the bafroom and her teef. No matter how I try to convince her that she only has teef in her mouf, she now knows the truTH.

Harrison also reached a milestone, speaking of teeth. He lost his first one. It was just the day before that I was admiring his cute little baby teeth, and was so glad that they were all still in there tight. (I have got to stop noticing the little things about the kids. Apparently, when I do, it is for the last time). We were having a "hot baked sandwich" at Costco when Harrison complained that he couldn't eat it because his tooth hurt. I asked him to open up and, to my surprise, inside was lurking a new grown up tooth right behind his little baby tooth. He looked like a shark with rows of teeth. He was very excited to hear that, but I was not.

Abigail came home with an awesome report card yesterday. She is so funny because she still doesn't really know what a good grade is. They don't do A's and B's in our district. It is a scale of 4 to 1 (4 being the A). So, she showed it to me with some trepidation. It was spankin', really. Her average on assignments was 100.0%. I'm sorry, I just have to brag. You know you'd totally do the same. Don't judge.

It just keeps going and going, doesn't it? I think that all of my emotions as a mom can be summed up as bittersweet. Or sweetly bitter. I am so proud of all of them, and love seeing them try new things and grow, but I just wish it would happen in s l o w m o t i o n.

Baby Steps

"Making the decision to have a child - it's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside of your body" --Elizabeth Stone


There goes my heart. Again. Four in a row now. Off he goes. Isn't it wonderful? Exhilarating and heartbreaking all at the same time. I am smitten.

Good News Wednesday

Mom's update from Dr. Akerley and the wonderful Terry at the Huntsman:

Yesterday, in preparation for her 4th out of 6 chemo treatment today, mom had a CT to check the progress of said treatments.

THE RESULTS ARE IN..... AND THEY ARE GOOD!!!!! (How many exclamation points can you use to convey this level of excitement?)

Dr. Akerley said "the results are BETTER than we hoped for". All cancerous tumors in her lungs have decreased in size. All fluid on her heart has decreased. All fluid in her left lung has decreased. Decreased, decreased, decreased!!! Hooray for mom!!!

Party clothes - again. Pinata - very appropriate. Expressions of gratitude and thanks - every minute of every day.

Thanks to you all for your prayers and messages of love. They are working, and we are so grateful for you all.

M is for the Many Things She Gaaave Me

This mother's day we wanted to attend my mom's ward with her. This does require all of us to be ready for church about 45 minutes earlier, which we actually managed to do. It was a Mother's Day Miracle!!

I was so looking forward to sitting with her in church, listening to the talks that are meant to praise and uplift those of us who happen to be the women folk. Her ward was once my ward, as well. So, it is also nice to go and see familiar faces and be amazed at how kids who used to be in Young Women's are now wives and mothers.

Hudson, however, had other plans. You see, my mom's ward is more of a grown up ward. Even when the Primary sang, there were more teachers than kids. What this means is that you can actually hear a pin drop at all times during Sacrament Meeting. Someone happened to drop a pin at one point, and all heads turned to see who had dared disrupt the quiet. Really.

The ward that we belong to now has more kids than adults. What this means is that our ward sounds like an orphanage on fire. That is what we are used to. You couldn't hear an elephant parade in our ward. One happened to pass through during sacrament (although it may have just been a bunch of the 9 year old boys) and nobody thought anything of it.

I thought I was prepared for this new experience of actually being able to listen in church. I had goldfish crackers, 4 packages of yo-gos that I had unwrapped and put into a container, water in a sippy, quiet toys, and Bo, Grandma, Tracy, and Scott. This was nothing compared to the firecracker that is Hudson.

I have to tell you that Hudson has this amazing heaven given talent of the ear piercing shriek - which he does when he is happy, sad, or just wondering if he still can. It can break glass. It can rupture eardrums that are within 10 feet. Sometimes he opens his mouth and, although I cannot hear anything, dogs in the neighborhood begin arriving at our front door. Mariah Carey has even called to get some pointers from him. He's got me feeling emotion, deeper than I've ever dreamed of.

He decided that the best time to let this loose was at the completely quietest part of the meeting. I think he had it all calculated and was waiting for his moment. We tried stuffing handfuls of strawberry marshmallows (thanks Bo) in his chipmunk cheeks. Nope, no match. I picked him up and shoved the sippy in his mouth. Nothin' doin'. The goldfish crackers only made the shriek become accompanied by crunch, crunch, crunch. When the people in the row in front of us started to wince and check their ears for blood, I had to take him out.

So much for the talks and the company of mom. I was out wandering the halls while Hudson wanted up, wanted down, cried because I put him down, and then squirmed because I picked him up.

But, really, it was just fine. Just being in the same building that I used to be with her every Sunday was lovely. People came up and were astonished at how big the kids had gotten. When we were living there back in pioneer times, we only had one little tiny baby in the form of Abigail. One of the old bishopric members came up to Abigail and said "You are so big now! And you get to have her as your grandma! You are so lucky!" I loved that. She is so lucky. And nobody really got mad that Hudson had made some of the old timers change the frequency on their hearing aides. Which was nice, too.

At the end of the day, just a few minutes with mom is good enough. She is really amazing. My ultimate example. How she managed 4 kids with such patience, love, and individual attention mystifies me. She took us all to the store and managed to come back out with all of us. This is something I am still working on. She handmade all of our most favorite clothes. I can barely manage to find our clothes. I look back on our wonderful, enchanting childhood and am in awe of her every single day. She could do it all, and in the meantime did no wrong. She could give us all the time in the world, and still manage to have her own friends, develop her own talents, and cultivate her creativity.

Sometimes I feel a little guilty that my kids are getting the shaft. There is absolutely no way that I can live up to her example. I promise them to try to be at least half the mom that she is, and I know that they will be amazingly blessed with just that. Even half of what she can do is still an astonishing feat in motherhood.

Even now, when we should be taking care of her, she is still making sure that our needs are met before hers. Birthdays are still marked with the same attention. Holiday details are all taken care of. Grandchildren are still held in her lap and story after story after story is read.

I know a quote from Katharine Hathaway that describes her to a tee:


"Everybody knows that a good mother gives her children a feeling of trust and stability. She is their earth. She is the one they can count on for the things that matter most of all. She is their food and their bed and the extra blanket when it grows cold in the night; she is their warmth and their health and their shelter; she is the one they want to be near when they cry. She is the only person in the whole world in a whole lifetime who can be these things to her children. There is no substitute for her."


This is her. This is my mom. I'm so glad to have her, and glad that I am blessed enough to try to exemplify her every single day. What a remarkable thing to be a mother and have a mother like her to look to for inspiration, comfort, and approval. I am so lucky, too.

Our Lovely Late Easter

My mom has always made Easter fantastic. Even better than (dare I speak it) Christmas, in my oh so humble opinion. When we were little, the last thing we would do before going to bed on Easter Eve would be to delicately try on dresses loaded with landmines of straight pins. We would hear her up until the crack of Easter dawn on her sewing machine, slaving over 3 differently colored, but still matching, perfect Easter dresses.

In the morning I remember waking up extra early to find our Easter baskets on Easter Sunday. We would search throughout the entire house and sneak into mom and dad's room for hints. Since she had been up all night sewing, she was an eye witness (not to mention conspirator) to where the Easter Bunny had hid them. We would get groggy clues that were clouded in cryptic messages.

"I'll help you after you get me a drink, please" Read: Look in the cupboard behind the cups.

"Can you bring me a blanket first?" Read: Look in the end table where we kept the orange and brown afghan.

Until we would just beg to have the answer spelled out to us. Then we would hear "No, the Easter Bunny did not hide anyone's Easter baskets in the bathroom, in Brandon's room, or downstairs. Have you looked in the pantry behind the Diet Coke, in the dishwasher, or in the cupboard under the microwave behind where we keep the coloring books and the tall basket full of crayons? I think somebody's might be hidden in the hall closet underneath the newspapers." She had the magic Easter touch.

This has (if you can believe it) only grown since the grandkids came. We look forward to Grandma's Easter as soon as New Year's Eve's Chinese food has been eaten. It is the only thing that gets us through the long and dreary winter. We had to postpone it this year because of that nasty gym play land cold bug (for the shame). But we finally made it.

At Grandma's Easter, you don't bother with silly Easter baskets. What are you thinking? We hunt with garbage bags. The big ones, too. There are detailed instructions given with colored stickers assigned to each child. There is first to be a hunt in the back yard, and then yet another in the front yard.

Abigail and Leah listening intently to the instructions.

Then the big reveal happens. The back doors are flung open and the kids go wild!!


Hudson participates with an OOOOOH...





and then with an AAAAAHHH!!!



It is amazing, after all.


We hunt, and hunt, and then hunt some more.




What do you do when you are this happy? Why you spin, of course.



The next day we examine our Easter bounty of loot and begin the weeks-on-end sugar rush. You can't quite possibly comprehend how much 4 full size garbage bags can contain until you spread it out in your kitchen and living room. This is when having a house full of kids really pays off.

We love Easter around here. We love it even when it comes late.

ATTENTION PLEASE!!

Hudson has an announcement to make!

We repeat again:

Please make note of this and document it wherever you put your most important information (for us that is the front of the fridge, the counter top, and mom's dresser). Thank you for your attention, and have a good day.

The Coolest Hair Club Around

I just got this email from "some old" and really amazing guy at my parent's work:

Robyn,

I work with your folks at the VA. I "hosted" a baldies photo shoot in honor of your mom a few weeks ago and thought you might like to have the pictures to add to those on your blog (or for your photo album, dartboard, whatever)...

I am so very pleased to hear the great news about your mother! I just gave John a hug to pass along to her...

Kevin Foster

P.S. I am the one in the SLC Hair Club pix standing 2nd from the right in the back row (between the two dorks that are wearing glasses...).The one with the good looking moustache!



The Salt Lake Hair Club with with mom front and leftish, and dad (the one with the REALLY good looking moustache) and the "old guy" Kevin (with the OTHER good looking moustache) in the back.



The Sandy Hair Club (apparently my mom works in a copy paper storage closet)

My parents work with the best people!! They have had such support through this. Can you imagine YOUR coworkers shaving their heads for you?!? And then subjecting themselves to photographic proof of it? It's wonderful.

Thank you doesn't begin to cover it. I don't think there are words that can. Isn't it amazing that you can love people you have never even met?

I'm going to have the best dart board in the neighborhood.

The Miracle

The 8 little feet that make this house shake more than the African savanna during a stampede have all been tucked sweetly into bed (2 under the blankets, 2 out of the blankets, 2 wearing socks, and the last 2 in footy pajamas), and I can now have a moment of contemplation and thankfulness for the news that we so wonderfully received yesterday.

I have been thinking a lot about the situation with all the Easter goings on. I adore Easter. Always have. The peeps covered in colored sugar, the ham covered in glaze, and the eggs covered in deviled. Fantastic. But it has always been the promise of spring, of new life, and new beginnings that captured me. That terrible frozen winter is no match for the warmer sun with its lengthening days of spring. It has always been a metaphor for me that I love to witness every single year. There is no trial or test that will ever beat out the love and blessings hidden within it. With the bad will ALWAYS come the good. It is always there, hidden underneath the snow, waiting to burst forth with new life.

Even the ultimate is not really the ultimate:

Death is conquered. Man is free.


But this year was a little tricky for me. I am ready for mom to have that perfected body right now. I don't want to have to go through the rest of it. Just straight to the perfection, please. We are looking for miracles, and right now would be a good time for one.

And then it happened. Just like that. The miracle came. Right in front of our button noses. Hope made it's wondrous return, and fear took its leave. Faith was strengthened. Gratitude and tear filled thankfulness were inadequately and humbly expressed.

We have all been given so many promises of blessings, and the realization of them. Real Power in the Priesthood, answers to prayer, and the assurance that we will never go through anything alone. This in addition to the promise of spirits reuniting with glorified bodies that has been given to every person who has ever walked this earth, no matter how imperfect the life. All from a loving Father who is guiding every moment.

I know he is there. I know it with every unreminded beat this heart of mine takes. There are miracles every day; with more and more to come.

Oh, Happy Day!!

This dreary, rainy, cold April afternoon has turned out to be the sunniest, warmest, happiest day in a very, very long time.

News from the Radiation Department at Huntsman:

Mom's creative, thoughtful, and incredibly smart brain no longer has the brain cancer!!! All 10 of her radiation treatments were successful in eliminating the tumors.

She had two major ones. The first, and the biggest, was deep inside, behind her right eye. That one is a goner. The second which was right on the surface, has also taken its leave. She also had some "speckling" throughout the rest of her gray matter, and that also is nowhere to be found.

Hot Dog!!! Let's all put on our party clothes, blow up some balloons, and break out the leftover Easter candy to celebrate!! There has never been better news, ever.

Aren't we all so proud of her! She is sailing through this like a trooper. Hair or no hair, this woman has a will of steel. One of her millions (and millions) of wonderful qualities that I have admired and wish I could have just a sliver of. And now she can apply all her strength and resolve to her lungs, and kick that, too.

Great job, mom!! Go and have yourself a piece of cheesecake. Put a crown on your beautiful bald head, and wear a sash that says "I AM THE BEST!!", because you certainly are.


We'll discuss more later, I promise.

Chompers and Oh The Humanity!!

Hudson has been super duper cranky lately (cranky with a capital CRANK; and a capital Y for that matter). Did I mention that includes being CUH-LING-EEE!! With extra exclamation points for emphasis!!! Seriously, I can't put the kid down to save my life, or his for that matter. Oh, the drama!! It was wearing me thin. See-through practically.

After an entire day of nothing but proof of his lung capacity, I dragged all 4 critters to the aquarium. What could be more distracting to a crabby 1 year old than a bunch of swimming, splashing, sea creatures? No such luck. If it were only that easy. He managed to scare all the fish with his cries of protest. So, to try to save my sanity, I dragged Mr. Fussy McGrumpy Pants and his 3 unsuspecting siblings to the gym. They love the play land when they can be there together (if you try to separate them, you, and the play land staff, will suffer the consequences), plus I needed the break and the sweat. When we were all properly worn out, we headed home.

Later that evening, Sir Cries A Lot was chewing on something he found on the living room floor (shocking, I know. The carpet that tries to cushions the feet of our mangy brood is usually SO spotless). When I went in to fish it out I discovered, one, two, three, FOUR molars sprouting in his drooly little mouth. No wonder he was so inconsolable!! Now, I have to admit. I am a self proclaimed drugger. If I had realized that this was the problem, I would have loaded him up with Tylenol like the junkie I have turned all the kids into. I am mother of the year, I know.

But, wait. It only gets worse from there.

You know what they have in those play lands, right? Yes, they have toys. Yes, they have movies. Yes, they have coloring. Yes, they have germs, germs, and more germs! And being in such a stressed out funk, I didn't even think of that. So, now, in addition to teething pains, we have been blessed with a cold. And, if I have taught these kidlets nothing else, I have taught them to share. So, this cold will hippity hop along its merry little way from one chickie to the next, just like Peter Cottontail himself.

This wouldn't be so bad if it didn't mean that we can't go and see Grandma. Her immune system is AWOL during chemo, and a cold could mean another trip back to the old gray bar hotel (also known as the hospital). So, we are missing out on Grandma love, which is the best kind of love. So frustrating. This had better be gone by Easter or somebody will pay!!! I don't know who, but it will definitely be SOMEBODY!!!

In the meantime I am bundling them up, covering them with kisses, and forcing airborne, Tylenol (of course), the purple medicine they all hate, and any other cold "remedy" down their cute little sore throats. All of which make Hudson burst into tears. But, what doesn't? We will survive.