Leaving on a Jet Plane

In March, the kids and I got to visit my parents and family in Arizona. We had planned to go before Dad's stroke, but I was grateful to have the opportunity to see him--and all the family--again, this time strictly for fun.

It was their first time on an airplane, and they were out-of-their-minds-excited. They did great, loved the fact that they got to chew watermelon-flavored gum, and could barely contain their delight that there was a bathroom ON THE PLANE.

(Doesn't he look like such a big kid pulling his suitcase--which he insisted on doing himself the whole time!)

Getting off the plane in Arizona.

In addition to seeing my parents, we also were lucky to arrive the same day this little guy did! 

My brother and sister welcomed baby #4, their first boy!

(And he really was one of the most perfect little babies I have ever seen!) 

We also had TONS of fun enjoying the amenities of a big city. 

We went to the Phoenix Zoo, which really is quite nice. 

Watched Backyardigans with the cousins...

Went to the dinosaur museum (which Little Bird has been BEGGING to do forever!)

Digging for dino eggs here: 

And braving the T-Rex! 

And attending a favorite cousin's birthday party, complete with bouncy house, games and pinata! 

In news of my dad, he's doing remarkably well. I was so impressed by the difference in him. I know he still has his frustrations--for instance, he has beautiful handwriting, but it isn't back quite to that point where it was before the stroke (though it's much better than my husband's already!), and he gets tied up if he's talking in conversation more than 4-5 sentences (but was getting stuck at 4-5 words last time I visited!). I think some of his frustrations come from the fact that he sees the every day, small changes, but it is hard for him to step back and see how far he's come. For me, again, I have the blessing of distance and time--even though it's hard to be away, when I saw him, I was just blown away at how far he has come along. His therapy is truly helping and I am so grateful for his therapists. And again, I'm so impressed at and proud of him and the way he is working. He's ornery, so it takes a little to convince him, but once he starts, he really works hard. :) 

In July, after the baby gets here, Mom and Dad will be coming to visit and I can't wait to see them and the progess Dad will have made again! We've been so blessed to see them so much this year, especially given all the circumstances that have come along. It's been a difficult year, but one filled with so much love and accomplishment, too! 

Free to throw snowballs...

One of the things I have been working on as a mother is giving my kids a bit more independence. I'm sometimes the type that, if it were more socially acceptable, would wrap my kids in bubble wrap, keep them locked in the basement, and make them wear football helmets even when sleeping. This is a tendency I spend a lot of time fighting back, and because of it, I am occasionally smacked in the face with the realization of what precisely my kids can do, beyond my expectations.

Case in point: with this baby, I have mentioned I was sick. Much of my first trimester was spent losing weight, thanks to my inability to stomach the mere thought of food, much less eat it without it coming up. Most of my mornings were spent laying in bed or on the couch, mustering the courage to face my work day. Other times, I would drag myself around, attempting to play with the kids or get things done. Lucky for me, it turns out that Squirrel is quite the domestic assistant. Thanks to my illness, I learned that she can (and actually loves to!): pour cereal and milk for her and Little Bird; make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; start a movie; pick out everyone's clothes for the day; empty (some of) the dishwasher; and make the beds.

In most cases, letting her do these things usually left me feeling like a colossal failure (like when, at 22 weeks, I was throwing up again and laid in bed, and she said, "I'm sorry mama. I should have made us breakfast this morning, but I forgot." The kid still says "breffast" and is apologizing that she didn't feed her 4 year old self and 3 year old brother?!? Epic mommy-fail!), but I have also realized that she and Little Bird take a great deal of pride in doing things on their own. He is learning to use the potty and dress himself, and Squirrel is his biggest cheerleader and advisor (going so far as to demonstrate step-by-step in the bathroom how to get it done). When she makes a PB&J, or he puts his shirt on the right way, they positively GLOW with pride, and not even because I celebrate with them; there is a genuine and deep sense of accomplishment at doing something on their own. 

So...I am trying to give them a bit of independence.

We haven't had a whole lot of snow this year, actually a remarkably small amount, as I previously mentioned. But in the last month and a half or so, we've been getting the occasional fluff. And so yesterday, my kids asked if they could go out and play in it. And Squirrel specifically asked if they could go out *alone.* Generally, my immediate response would be to say no and distract them with a fun game where they would be locked up tight in my over-vigilant sight. This time, I reminded myself that I didn't have a good reason for saying no, and that they had been showing me how much they could do. So I set some ground rules and let them loose.

Mostly they stomped around, kicked the snow, and puddle jumped. Then they hung upside down on the banisters over the concrete steps (insert image of me picturing their brains spilled everywhere and literally biting my tongue to keep from hollering at them to stop...they totally survived AND still have all their brains in their heads!).

Then Squirrel got an idea. You can see it forming here...

And the approach here...

She pummeled her little brother with a snowball. 

He, in turn, came running to the door where I had just started taking pictures, near tears, to tattle. 

"Mommy! Sister frowed a snowball at me!"

Ordinarily, I would have probably given him a kiss, reprimanded his sister, 

and said it was time to come in. 

This time, I stopped to think, and then I said:

"Well, I guess you better throw one back at her!"

His expression immediately changed to pure mischief, and he was off to retaliate. 

And then came one of my favorite scenes thus far in the year: 

They had so. much. FUN. They both threw snow until they were out of breath. No tears, just laughter. No fights, just fun. And when they looked exhausted, I invited them in for hot chocolate. 

They were so proud of their outdoor play "alone."

Today Squirrel, wide eyed with excitement, said, "Mom. Remember that time you let me and brother have a snowball fight outside...all by OURSELVES???"

Yep, I remembered.

"That was really fun."

Note to self: a little freedom goes a long way. 

Maybe I'll let Squirrel make me breakfast in bed tomorrow...scrambled eggs, and hold the guilt. ;) 

My Dad

"In our most trivial walks, we are constantly, though unconsciously, steering like pilots by certain well-known beacons and headlands, and if we go beyond our usual course, we still carry in our minds the bearing of some neighboring cape; and not till we are completely lost, or turned around--for a man needs only to be turned round once with his eyes shut in this world to be lost,--do we appreciate the vastness and strangeness of Nature [...] Not till we are lost, in other words, not till we have lost the world, do we begin to find ourselves, and realize where we are and the infinite extent of our relations."
-HDT, The Village

Over President's Day weekend, I flew out to see my family, but most specifically, to see my dad after his stroke. He'd been in a rehabilitation center for about 10 days, and out another few days when I arrived. My excuse was to go out and help my parents in whatever way I could. Really, I have no doubt that the trip was more for me than anyone else, and the only thing I probably really did to "help" was to diminish my own feeling of complete helplessness that comes after such an event, especially when one lives 1000 miles away at the time.

One of the biggest struggles I have had, aside from this penetrating helplessness, was the inability to understand what condition my father was in. There's a lot of funny things about the brain, I'm learning...both as it is affected by a stroke, and as it's affected by emotion. There is only one way I know Dad. He's always been a constant, and to hear about this altered is very hard to imagine. I understood that he was having a great deal of difficulty speaking, that he couldn't read or write, that he was quiet and struggling through conversations. The problem was that my brain simply couldn't apply those descriptions to my dad. I alternated back and forth between assuming he was exactly like normal, but perhaps a bit forgetful and imagining he was much worse off than I knew he was. I was able to Skype with him about two weeks before I flew out, on his first day of rehab, and I have to say I was really shocked. There he was, right in between these two fluctuations, in a place my imagination had been unable to take me. He was still him, but he was really struggling.

Going out to see him was such a blessing. I think in some ways, I have it easier than my siblings and mom (and Dad!) who watch the progress more closely and see it day by day. For me, to come out later and see him was a huge blessing because he was doing much better than last I had seen him, and it again gave me some perspective about where he was. All the therapy (speech, occupational, and physical) he had received in the rehabilitation center had obviously done a lot of good (as much as he claimed to hate it). He can hold a conversation better, though he still halts and has to search for certain words. He's got a lot of work to do, but he's come such a long way, too. The kids and I already had plans to go out in March, before this other trip, so I am looking forward to seeing even more progress.

That said, it's funny how the brain works. I got to take him to some of his therapy sessions while I was down, just to kind of see what's going on, and also to let Mom have a break (though, as an aside, she is just go-go-going. I don't know how she's held up so well, considering her own health and some other news she got around the same time). It was really fascinating to hear the sorts of things he struggles with (on one day, if you asked him a yes/no question with "after" in it, he could get it right, but if you re-worded it to have "before" in it, he'd get it wrong), and to wonder how that miraculous organ up there works at all. At the same time, just in the five days I was there, I could see improvement in lots of areas--physical, linguistic, emotional, etc.

It's funny too--I love my dad immensely, and have always had a sense of pride to call him mine, but I am really proud of the way he is working too. Sure, he's still my favorite cantankerous old goat that doesn't like to do certain things, but at the same time, he is working hard too, and I would watch him think hard in speech, or sit and do his therapy homework forever if I could, because it gives me so much joy that he's working so hard to get back where he was.

My favorite part of the trip though was probably his birthday, which was the same weekend. It was so nice to celebrate a man who has lived a quiet life full of goodness and faith, teaching and learning, giving and love, to be there with all my siblings and my parents and recognize what a blessing it is to have this good, good man in our lives another year, and, God willing, many more to come.

Happy 68th to an amazing man! 

Happy Halloween!

Happy Halloween!
We love Halloween here.
I really love forcing my family into looking ridiculous together.
I'm pretty sure I am reaching the end of being able to force my children into this, but the Halloween gods were on my side this year.

I know we probably won't be able to ever outdo last year's theme, but that will never stop me.

I got the idea this year to be the cast from Pixar's Up.

My children have no care for Up one way or the other.

Lucky for me, Squirrel wanted to be "Jewel" from the movie Rio. (Well, hello, bird costume, or KEVIN the bird...) So, I made her a bird costume and if you asked her, she was Jewel, but if you asked me, she was Kevin (which did NOT make her happy if she overheard).

Little Bird really wanted to be a ghost, even though I wanted him to be Russell. I compromised and made him a Russell costume with a ghost costume to go over top. Turns out, he didn't want to wear any costume, but didn't notice that his Russell costume was on him. (Anyone need a big white piece of fabric with two eye holes cut in it???)

Rob of course, was Carl, the old man. Unfortunately, no store in our town sold white or gray hair spray. (Can you believe it? Totally unheard of, but I guess that's what you get in a small town.) So I guess he was Carl, the middle-aged man...

I was Dug the Dog. In typical fashion, there are no photos of me, but my costume wasn't that great anyway. Most people's favorite was the "cone of shame" made from butcher paper. :)
Oh, wait, here's one! Hmm...I guess I did do a pretty good job on the costume...

The best part though, was the paper mural I drew for the trunk or treat--a magnificent crayon rendering of the house, accompanied by a bunch of balloons affixed to the van/house. We were pretty much the MOST awesome family at the trunk or treat, no doubt.

I will be so heartbroken when my children develop minds of their own when it comes to Halloween....

Anyway, hope you had a fun one with oodles of candy and lots of good times!

A "fairy nice" birthday present

For my birthday, Rob took the kids to the dollar store to pick out presents for me.

While he says he reminded the kids extensively that the presents were for Mommy, their interpretation of my interests was somewhat different than my own.

Little Bird got me a package of Cars candy. Which he promptly ate most of. (I was cool with that...they were really gross!)

Squirrel bought me a lovely fairy play doll which she named Fairy Dust. (I have to say though, her selection was kind of brilliant, because now every time she starts to play with her princess dolls, she remembers Fairy Dust and I am suddenly expected to play along, rather than passively observe. Clever girl, this one...)

The best part of Fairy Dust is that she is a little unique.

When we opened her up, we realized she only had one shoe.
Eh, no big deal. I mean, for a dollar, can you really expect a complete collection of accessories 100% of the time?

And then I realized why she only had one shoe...a practical solution to her other issues. 

It seems Fairy Dust is missing more than just a shoe. 

At first I thought Squirrel wouldn't notice, but of course she quickly did. 

I told her Fairy Dust had a "little foot"; just like Nemo has a "little fin."

She seemed to take that just fine. 

The best part, was later as she was playing with Fairy Dust and the Princess Barbies, I heard her telling the Princesses that Fairy Dust was special, to be nice to her, and that her "little foot" helped her fly and land on flowers, and that was why Fairy Dust is the best fairy. EVER. 

And that is why I am pretty sure I have the best daughter. 

EVER.  

The Happiest Birthday

I kind of hate birthdays. Every year, I have a tendency to have a melt-down around my birthday. This year was no exception. I feel like I have had some really crummy ones, that sometimes people I love forget about it, or just generally awful events tend to coincide with the weeks/days before I turn a year older. And even when they don't, I still get so ornery and mopey around my birthday. It's been like this for at least the last several years, but I can trace the beginning of feeling this way back to when I was in high school. In the weeks or month before my birthday, I look forward to it. I like cake. I like presents. I like when my friends and family call. Birthdays are great!

Until four or five days before...and then I get gloomy and mean.

This year was no exception.

The day before my birthday, I melted down. I cried to Rob about how I hate my birthday, everything and every one that has anything to do with it, and I that I didn't even want people to wish me a happy birthday; I just wanted to crawl in a hole and forget the whole day.

And then I had a realization. It isn't my birthday. It's me.

Every year around my birthday, I get the birthday blues. I always thought I was feeling bad FOR myself, but I realized I feel bad ABOUT myself. Even though I don't struggle the rest of the year with this thought, there is something about being another year older that makes me feel like I have fallen short; I look at myself, at my life, and I basically feel...worthless. I feel like I am another year older and I haven't done anything meaningful or important. It's kind of hard to write it out like that, to realize that deep down, that's why I hate turning another year older, but really, I heard it in my head and I felt it in my heart, and I knew that the anger wasn't about what someone had done or about something that had happened. It was about me, and the fact that I didn't think I was worth celebrating.

That's kind of depressing, right? And maybe not normal (I don't know...do a lot of people feel this way?), but definitely not the type of person I want to be.

So I decided to change my mind. I think this has been a long time coming. The past few months, I have been thinking about doing something meaningful for my birthday, and finally came up with a plan. But I realized I could easily do more, and that when you feel bad for yourself, the best thing you can do is go out and do kind things for others.

So, I did register for that 5K, and even had a little extra to add to the donation.
(Look! Here's me, "running"!)

 But more significantly, I got done crying, wiped off the smeared mascara and walked into the kitchen and started making cookies and brainstorming. And I think I created a new tradition for myself and my family.

That night I made 4 dozen cookies. The next morning, we got up and we went to spread some love.

Our family delivered cookies to the police station, where we were invited to give them to the Chief of Police, who nearly came to tears, telling us that the day before had been one of the worst ever, and that he couldn't express how grateful it was to know that some people were actually appreciative of the work they do. (They gave the kids badge stickers and a ride in the display car.)

We went to fire station, where we handed cookies off to the fire fighters and the kids were given a tour of the station with a look/climb around the ladder truck.

We went to the library and gave them to the librarians.

We took people treats AND animal treats to the local animal shelter where the kids got to happily play with the dogs.

Then we went to Walmart to get a dozen balloons, where we left 3 plastic bags of quarters taped to the soda machines for people to find and enjoy a free soda.

We took the balloons to one of the local nursing homes, where we made some new friends and spread a little cheer. (It was so AMAZING to see my sweet daughter giving hugs, holding hands, and talking to the residents. I was so worried that she would be too shy or would be frightened, but she commented on how much she loved it and all the "nice grandmas and grandpas.")

I had to go to work after that, but after work, we went "camping." The kids have been asking to go camping for ages now, and with all they do to fill me with joy, I figured one awesome birthday present would be to return the favor. It was really cold, so I chickened out and we took the kids home once the fire died and we all got sleepy, but it was once of those moments I want to tuck away in some place for safe keeping and never, ever lose; a moment I wish I could freeze for all time and play back again and again and again.

We roasted hot dogs and marshmallows, and watched the colors of the fire. The kids told us campfire stories: Squirrel's was about a little princess who shared her name who went camping in the woods and was afraid of everything, so her mommy stayed with her. And THEN when a bear jumped out to scare them, they realized it was only DADDY! (Insert shrieks and giggles.)

Little Bird's was about a little monster (who also shared his name) and a little ghost that came to play with him everyday, until a big ghost came and put the little ghost in the garbage can! (Insert raucous laughter.) Luckily, his friend came and got the little ghost back out of the garbage can and they played more.

As I sat there by the fire, with Squirrel snuggled in my lap and Little Bird in Rob's, listening to my children weave tales (complete with conflict and character development), watching the purples, oranges, and yellows of the flames run into each other, I realized that these amazing children were another year older too. That every year, time will move on, and these beautiful little people are my accomplishment. These sweet hands delivering cookies, stroking the veins on the hands of the elderly, their darling mouths telling stories and filling the cold air with laughter, the eyes that shone at me with love and affection and pride for their work that day, those are the things that reflect my worth back to me.

And so, this is how I know that in the past year, I have accomplished something important and that I am not only someone myself, but I am creating beautiful little someones who can someday go on and do the same.

Pretty much the best birthday in the history of the world.

Peace and love,