MIA

I have been MIA.

I haven't been feeling very well lately. Weeks have gone by and I am still sick. Mom's should be exempt from getting sick. We have too much to do.

After some encouragement from Chad...I finally went to the doctor.

They stole some blood, palpated my body and discovered that I have a few things wrong. Now I am off to another doctor to have a few more tests done. They are all threatening surgery in some form or another. Nothing serious, just annoying. I am terrified. I hate surgery. It's scary.

Anyway, enough about that.

Now I want to talk about my friend Renee. Talking about her makes me smile. I mentioned her once before. She was the "Angel" I talked about in another post and she still wears that title gracefully. Through out all of these doctor visits for Jack and me she has watched my kids.

And cleaned my house.
And organized my closets.
And wiped my counters.
And filled my dishwasher.


And she is still willing to help.

Tomorrow morning Jackson is getting his tonsils out. We haven't told him yet. I don't really know how to...he won't understand.

Renee will be here again.

I know Heavenly Father asks us to go through hard things, but he also sends angels to help us get through them.
Renee is an angel to me and I am in so much debt to her.
I want to be more like Renee.

One last thing...
Although tonsil surgery is a very simple procedure, if you pray, please pray for Jack. He hasn't been sleeping for weeks now. While he sleeps, his tonsils fill his airway and he wakes choking. Some nights I lay there listening to him. Soon he will be sleeping again. And so will I. I can't wait.

Couldn't resist. Just took this.

The Trade

When I was little I prayed very hard that I wouldn't have any wisdom teeth. I prayed a lot. After hearing many horror stories about wisdom teeth surgery, I was sure that was something I never wanted to experience. With faith in my heart, I remember going to the dentist for x-rays. My mouth was photographed and the truth was told...I was missing all 4 wisdom teeth. My prayers were answered and I was so grateful. This experience served as a testimony of prayer...that Heavenly Father hears our prayers and answers them. I could relax since I had been spared this trauma that so many have had to go through.


Here's the catch though...the trade...

I traded my 4 wisdom teeth for 4 c-sections. This is what life is like, what trials are like. Some things we are spared of, others we are asked to endure (for a long time). Sometimes we choose the trial, other times they are forced upon us.


Trials have been on my mind a lot lately. I am grateful for them...when they are over. But when we are going through them, which we will, I am grateful for the help that we can find through Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. Joseph B. Wirthlin's mother used to tell him, "come what may, and love it." I am going to start telling myself that.

"Come what may, and love it."

Trials make us who we are. They help us grow, give us empathy, and strengthen our relationship with our Savior.

Over a period of 5 1/2 years I had 4 c-sections. I had experiences of Heavenly Father lending me support to get through it...through the pain...the fear...the unknown...and the other trials that decided to pop up. There are no wishes in my heart of trading back my c-sections for wisdom teeth...it was worth it. I would do it all over again to get my children here and have those experiences. We were sent here to grow. Thank goodness we are given help along the way. Thank goodness we do not have to do it alone.


One last word of encouragement from Joseph B. Worthlin. He said, "The lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way."


I will remember..."come what may, and love it."

Bring it on!!! (gently though, please.)

Confessions

I have something I need to get off my chest.
I feel so guilty.
Maybe it's because from the time we are 2 we are told it is bad. I cry every time my kids do it. I have taught them how bad it is. Tell them often never to do it. I make them promise to NEVER do it again.
Danger.
Bad.
Disastrous.
I CAN'T fix it if they decide to do it.

Here I am in a new State. Across the Country. Away from everything familiar. I miss my friend Molly. Molly is very talented. She has cut my hair for the last 8 years. I don't know where to go now. I don't know who to trust, who to see. It's really expensive here. I haven't had a hair cut for MONTHS!!

A fellow artist planted a seed in my mind. She said "you're an artist. Just cut your own hair."
She cuts her own hair.
I know this because I asked her who cut her hair, hoping I could get a referral. Her hair is really cute. I stewed over this for days.

Chad was out of town. No one was around. My heart was pounding. Dare I break the rule? The one we learn from such a young age?


So here is my confession...
I cut my own hair a few weeks ago.
It was fun.
It was messy.
I love it!
I don't know how it looks from behind, but the ends feel better.
Chad kept complimenting my hair...so I confessed to him.
He was happy...happy to save money.
Maybe I'll get a nice pair of shears for my birthday.

Now I am thinking about color. It might be fun. Probably messy too.

Today

I told myself no pictures today. I promised myself I'd catch up on laundry.

I couldn't resist when I found Miss S like this.

Those tiny hips wiggled out of her buckles, and her pants too.

RIP Toaster

I have a toaster. It's beautiful and shiny. I got it for Christmas not too long ago. I didn't feel like I deserved it. Let me explain why.

We didn't have a toaster for a long time.
I threw it down the stairs.
I haven't thought about the toaster memory for many months. I used to think about it every time I looked at my new beautiful toaster. But I don't any more. Now I just think about how delicious my sugar coated toast will taste.

I remember that I was pregnant and on bed rest. I remember being stressed, tired, in pain, and alone. I also remember wanting some toast. Our toaster was a bit handicapped. Over the previous couple of weeks the boys had, slot by slot, melted toys in them.
Now there was only one slot to cook from.
Only one slot that worked.
In went the bread, and down went the lever. Then I smelled it. Burning. Melting.
A Crayon!
Now I distinctly remember picking up the toaster and throwing it down the stairs.
Yes, I threw it!
Then I cried.

Since I was on bed rest and under strict doctors orders (and shouldn't have been making toast in the first place), I definitely was not supposed to go up or down stairs. Stairs were illegal for me, but I needed to clean up before the kids got home. I cried some more as I made my way slowly and painfully down the stairs. The tears came because my body hurt, because I was frustrated with my kids, but mostly because I couldn't believe what I had done. I was so disappointed in myself.

Once down the stairs, I found the toaster in pieces. Carefully I gathered the pieces up in my extra roomy maternity shirt and made my way back up the stairs. Finally at the top, I opened the garage door and dumped the contents of my shirt onto the garage floor and closed the door.

When the kids found out, they cried too. How could they live without toast? I had a lot of apologizing to do, to everyone.

A couple days later, Chad asked where the toaster was. I pointed to the garage.

More apologizing.

Chad does a good job at making me feel better. He now says this story is one of the things that makes him love me more. I think he uses the word "endearing" when he talks about it.

I am not sure why.

We went without toast for a long time.

So you can see why opening up a beautiful toaster at Christmas was hard. Did I deserve it? No, but I really do love toast. Especially cinnamon toast.






One more thing to mention....

the kids have never put anything but bread in the toaster since.

For the love of all that's Salmon

My boys love salmon. I love to serve it to them for my own personal enjoyment. Mouths open wide. Salmon shoveled in.

We had salmon for dinner last night.

Within seconds it is gone.
Cleared off plates.
Not a scrap left.
Then like clockwork I hear the words..."are you going to eat that?"
Jacob is talking to me. I haven't even touched my salmon yet. How could I eat while watching him. My eyes glued to his mouth. It goes like this every time.



Once upon a time last year I took Jacob on a date. We got all dressed up in our fancy clothes. He was so handsome. Chad was out of town at the time and I arranged babysitters every night so I could take my kids on dates, or more truthfully, so they could take me out.

I told him he could choose anywhere...where ever he wanted to eat we would go. His response:

"Crab, salmon and shrimp"

It was going to be an expensive night. Together we drove to Market Street. Together we crossed the fun, bouncy bridge that connects the parking lot to the restaurant. Together we were taken to a table. And together we sat. He couldn't get all three favorites in one plate, so I ordered salmon, while he ordered crab and shrimp. Surely he would be too full to eat any of my salmon.

Usually the waitress is in a hurry.
I have been there a few times before...they are busy.
She brought Jacobs food.
She was curious.
The second the plate hit the table he was digging in with fingers. No time for manners when there is food like that.
She just stood there with a wide open mouth.
Still standing there as he licked the last piece of crab off his plate she said,
"I have never seen a kid do that before."
Her words lingered at our table as she walked away.

I watched his eyes emerge from behind his plate as he lowered it back to the table. A few pieces were still attached to his chin. I am sure he would have licked those off too if his tongue were long enough.

Then the words I hear every time we eat salmon...."are you going to eat that?"

My response...."oh no, go ahead."

And he did.

Thanks for the tips on how to shrink my photos. I am going to erase this post because it won't make much sense once I print my blog into a book. Kiersten, I will call you and you can walk me through it...I am still confused.

Savi March 13, 2009

I will just leave the picture up...

Popsicles

I bought a box of colorful, delicious popsicles just yesterday. They colored faces, legs, stomachs, floors, walls and windows. I found sticks in the laundry, grass, sink, their hair, and their pockets. Today they are gone. Savannah got the last one for breakfast. The kids are now clean, but my house is not. Better get scrubbing!!

Before her bath...

.....and after her bath.

Getting out

Even though we weren't 100% well yet, we needed to get out of the house and go somewhere without a lot of kids or germs. Mount Vernon was the ideal place. Room to run...and no one to spread germs to (except a few farm animals). The 70 degree weather helped out too. I love this place so much and I can't explain why yet. It is beautiful, peaceful, and so full of history. Some day I will put Mount Vernon into words. Here are some pictures!






One of my favorite things about Mt. Vernon are the brick walls. They have their own story. Aren't they amazing?







Also, thanks for all of the well wishes. We are doing a lot better and Tehya is finally going back to school after missing over two weeks. Love you all!!!

We're making the Dr. rich!!!

Still sick

Still sick

Newly sick

Newly sick

We are doing our best to stimulate the economy by giving the doctor all of our money.