Noah Steven "Crowned in Peace"

Trekking Around the World

2012-02-05T23:45:00.001-07:00

Remember this?

It's been a while. I wouldn't expect you to, but I sure do. One night, 5 years ago last November, we had gotten some yummy Chinese take-out and were sitting in Noah's room at The Children's Hospital. As we finished up and started cracking open our fortune cookies, I grabbed one and said, "This one's for Noah." If you can see in the picture, that's medical tape, the kind that used to keep tubes and crap attached to my sweet boy. We used it for other things, as you can see.

At the time I remember thinking, "Oh how great it would be if You would heal Noah, God, and we could go all over the world (a lifetime dream of mine) and tell everyone of Your faithfulness, love and power." This was my initial response to reading, "You will step on the soil of many countries."

It's because I had seen myself with a grown son...remember? And so I naturally thought it was Noah...since he was my only son at the time and all. And Noah did step on the soil of many countries, so to speak, just not physically with his two sweet little feet. His blog hit every continent before he died, but that wasn't quite what I had been thinking...

Well, fast forward 5 years. This post isn't about Noah. It's about how my heart leaps out of my chest every time I see pictures of a sweet mama and her boy, so very much in love, who are on a journey. It's about how I can't get them out of my mind, not because I want to, but because God continues to put them on my heart, all throughout the day.

I have mentioned him here before, but I'm asking you not to turn away. I KNOW reading about a kid that is dying is nothing less than gut-wrenching. It's HARD. It SUCKS. It's a volume of books filled with descriptive words that can't really describe the heartache. I freaking GET IT! It's why hundreds stopped reading my blog after Noah died. I understand. It's not as fun as Pinterest or Facebook or a hundred million other things.

But I'm literally begging you to let your heart pray for Jarrett, Chelsea, Peyton, Conner and Trek, as they set off on a journey of living life to the fullest, one day at a time.

You see, someone close to them contacted me to pray for them...she had read Noah's blog and couldn't stop thinking about some of the similarities.

Here is where my heart is wrecked. We never wanted Noah to be stuck in a hospital bed his whole freaking life. That was never our dream for him...but because of a whole hellofalotta reasons, we were stuck. There were days I dreamed of stealing him out of the hospital and taking him home...but we couldn't because we didn't have home health care at the time. It was a big mess. The closest I got to showing him the world was this...whoopdefreakingdo!

Anyway, Chelsea's heart is living out what I wished I could have done with Noah.

Am I living vicariously through them? Only the freedom part...I lived all the rest already.

Either way, my heart is crying out for them to RUN, PLAY, LAUGH, CRY, REST, STARE, LISTEN, SING, NUGGLE, SMOOCH, HOLD ON and LET GO all at once.

I pray for God's love to fill every corner of their lives with such fullness that this time in their lives will ever be etched in their hearts.

I hate what they are going through but if I had it to do over, which I don't wish for, but if I could go back, I'd run like hell out of that hospital and live whatever amount of time I had with my boy, free from the beeps and meds and tubes and tests and pokes and drugs and smells and unknowns.

I'd run.

I don't despise what we went through, I do have to say, because 5 years later, I'm grateful to at least have the perspective that life is short. It's time to live, today, right now, to the fullest. Time and the people in our lives are literally gifts from God for our joy.

It's time you, or someone you know, stop holding back.

Hug tighter.

Kiss longer.

Stare at your children.

Laugh your ass off.

Play on the floor with your kids.

Tell your husband you love him.

Tell him you are sorry.

Hold hands.

Turn off your freaking television. Hell, throw the damn thing away.

Forgive.

Stop caring what others think of you.

Trust God sees the bigger picture. Relinquish the control you think you need to have.

Smile.

Listen.

Play.

Dream.

Live in wonder.

Baby Trek Atlas may not physically touch the soil of many countries in his short life time, but the way he's living with his big brothers and mommy and daddy who adore him...well, he's experiencing more love than many do in a lifetime. And, if you spend some time reading his mama's blog, I would venture to guess he'll have you looking around, wondering what matters, and making a few changes and tweaks to what is important.

That's Trek, a 9.5 month old, teaching us a thing or two. That's him stepping on the soil of many countries...

Life is short. How will you spend it?

Go Green

2012-02-03T12:48:00.000-07:00

These are some veggies I've been juicing lately. I couldn't rotate the picture for some reason, which is annoying, I know, but what has stood out to me the most as I've juiced one or two times a day is how colorful the foods are and how great I feel. For some reason when I eat a salad or a plate full of sauteed veggies, I don't really notice that the colors are so vibrant! This has GOT to be good for me!

Pretty much if you add lemon, lime, or fresh ginger to any juice recipe, it's a winner!

The veggies pictured previously did not create this smoothie. I got it from the Juice Lady's recipe for Cherie's Awesome Green Smoothie. Here is a link to more recipes.

Yes, it's thick. I'm slowly chugging it as I post...

And just for fun, this is what I'm wearing as I post! It's a snow day here in Colorado, so that's Em in the background with her friend, suiting up to head back outside for a second round of snow fun! And me? Well, several years ago I found that green treasure at the Goodwill Thrift Store. You know you want one! I couldn't resist buying it because it was SO retro and out there! Jason and I shoveled the driveway together earlier today...and this is what I wore...I'm so glad he loves me even though I'm a weirdo!

So, I'm not going to lie. The smoothie by Cherie Calbom is delicious, but it's thick going down. Here's the recipe and then I'll share my thoughts:

1 Avocado, peeled and seeded, cut into chunks (I forgot to cut it into chunks)
1 cup raw spinach
1/2 English cucumber, peeled if not organic, cut into chunks (I used a regular one)
juice of one lime (I used 1 Tbsp organic lime juice from my fridge)
1 Tbsp green powder of choice (I used Garden of Life Perfect Food RAW)
top with 2-3 tsp ground almonds (I skipped this as I am avoiding nuts right now...)

Then it says, place the top 5 ingredients in a blender and blend well, until smooth.

Let's just say, I put it all in the blender and nothing happened. I even have a high-powered blender. I added a little water...this helped...for a little bit. I added 8oz of water which finally allowed the ingredients to become a smoothie.

So, here's the deal. It actually tastes good. It really does. But. But. But. I had what I think is a brilliant idea, since, really this drink is like trying to chug guacamole...

Add one or two more avocadoes, some fresh cilantro, a tomato and salt, up the green powder to 2 Tbsp and double the lime, then serve with fresh veggies sticks, yummy root chips or corn chips.

Seriously, your kids (or your husband) won't know it's got spinach, cucumber or the green powder in it. It's like that Deceptively Delicious book by Seinfeld's wife...except taken up a notch.

And, always, always, always eat this wearing your green retro snowsuit from the 70's.

If You Ask About a Muffin...

2012-01-27T14:38:00.003-07:00

A couple of weeks ago I was looking in the display at arestaurant at what looked like a scrumptious gluten free blueberry muffin. Of course I knew I wasn’t going to buyit, one because it’s still laden with sugar whether it’s gluten free or not,and two, because like most baked goods, it probably had been made with eggs, mybiggest allergen. But,nonetheless, I asked the girl behind the counter about the muffin. She said they were amazing but, yes,had eggs and sugar.

Within tenminutes she went from telling me about the gluten free muffin to going Paleo todoing Crossfit to sharing her journey of addiction to alcohol, meth, andfood…her son’s health issues involving ADD and ADHD, and how difficult it is tobe a single mom, not totally healed of her addictions and how angry she is atGod about it.

I listened. I shared a little bit of my story ofdisappointment with God and losing a son and my addiction to food, how there isno such thing as a secret, that God's a Big Boy and can handle her anger, and thatHe’s totally and completely in love with her no matter where she is on herjourney. We exchanged names and I told her I would be praying for her and her son. And I’ve done so, because just sayingit doesn’t mean squat.

As I headed next door to meet my husband and some friends, Ifelt like an hour had passed learning all that I had. I hadn't wanted to be rude to keep everyone waiting...

10 minutes.

Only 10 minutes had passed and as I relayed some of theinformation I gained from hearing this woman’s heart, my husband’s buddy justlooked at me…and then he looked at Jason. And he said, “You were over there 10 minutes and you found out all ofthat?” “Yep. Everywhere we go. She can find out your whole life storyin 10 minutes. It’s crazy,” Jasonsaid. “Teach me,” said his friend. Jason told him it was a gift.

I think he’s wrong. Respectfully saying so, mind you.

It’s not a gift.

I just think everyone is worth knowing. Everyone.

I believe we all have a story and our stories areimportant. Even more so, ourstories are meant to be told. Littleby little, sharing along the way, telling bits of the story to those ready tolisten, and listening to those who are ready to share.

Our stories are never complete. They don’t have “choose your own ending” and aren’t meant tobe compared to the next person’s. Our stories are on-going, ever-changing and still unfolding. If we wait for them to reach a place of“peace” or “stillness” or “happily ever after” in order to share, we’ll havemissed out on the point...

We are here on this earth for God’s glory. He gets the glory when we live out thestory He has written for us, all the while sharing it with others. We were designed to share. Not if we feel comfortable with thetask or not, but because in sharing others get to find healing, too.

In my opinion, we need to stop talking and start sharing.

Are you ready to start sharing your story?

Some thoughts on Secrets

2012-01-24T06:10:00.001-07:00

I wanted to share my heart about an encounter I had last Friday with a person I've held a, well, really, really big grudge towards for 5 and 1/2 years.

I don't feel like writing it twice, so here it is.

If you are of the persuasion that the little secrets you hide deep in your heart, you know the dirty little ones that don't hurt anyone else, are actual secrets, I'd challenge you to think again.

God knows everything. Literally. Every. Thing.

So, if there's a secret locked up in your life that is holding you back from being all you were intended to be, well, let's just say God knows about it and He's not keen on things holding you back from living a full life that glorifies Him.

First He gently nudges us to expose it ourselves. Initially. This is always a better route. But seeing as how the human race is just a tad stubborn, at least my own private sector, who in their right mind would expose our own imperfections or faults willingly?

A few more nudges. Some hints. And then sometimes God just plops us in a situation where we have to face it. A place that calls a spade a spade, and if we're open to it, and repentant, admitting our sin, He forgives.

God knows. And He is faithful to allow us to go through our crap in order to take part in the good stuff.

No. Really. Head on over...

2012-01-18T23:22:00.003-07:00

I'm going to be running through a series over at my "Confessions of a 2nd Grade Closet Eater" blog over the next several weeks.

If you or someone you know, love, or even hate, is at a crossroads, has hit a wall, is stuck on a gerbil wheel with no end in sight, send them over there, too.

As always, in my truest, most candid form, I'll give you my guts.

And hopefully, that'll encourage yours.

Head Over to "Confessions"...

2012-01-17T11:11:00.001-07:00

Helping out at Big Sis' class before Christmas.

So BIG in Mexico eating guacamole.

Sitting on a big boy little chair at Bebe's house.

Celebrating 40 with my family.

Just hanging out, having a drink in the drawer after a hard day of walking.

I shared a bit about Ryan today on my "Confessions of a 2nd Grade Closet Eater" blog.

That boy has been teaching me a ton! I tell you what, if we slow down and pay attention to the sweet, simple things in life, the potential for learning is limitless!

Little BIG Feet

2012-01-13T17:34:00.000-07:00

If you don't know how much I love feet, scroll down to the bottom of this page...I'll wait...

Okay. So, let me clarify, because by "love feet" I want to make sure it's clear which ones I mean:

NOT stinky, sweaty, hairy, scaly ones
BUT YES to: chewy, teeny, tiny, pink, plump, yummy ones

But seriously, I love the symbolism of feet. Genetically we were designed to have two. Whether we all have two or not, and whether they "work" or function as intended, doesn't disqualify us for the symbolism of feet or not.

You see, you, or someone you know, may have really big feet or small, petite ones, but it's the footprint you leave that will make the lasting impression.

Five years ago when Noah died, he had the smallest feet in the family, simply speaking size here. However, his teeny, tiny, chewy, yummy, sweet little feet left the biggest footprint on my heart. His little BIG feet caused me to re-evaluate life on many levels and got these size 8's on the move. Not just to move around and add chaos to the world, but on the move to start living the way I was intended and Designed to live.

Do I do it right all the time? Nope. I'm a student on this earth...

I just met another mom that loves feet. And by "loves feet" I'm not so sure Chelsea loves them the same way I describe above, but it's clear she loves the journey and makes the most of her treasured times with her husband and their 3 sons. And though from reading her blog I can tell she loved them well prior to meeting her most recent little BIG feet, it seems, once again, that a sweet little boy with teeny, tiny, yummy toes has "walked" into her heart and brought about even more joy, life and perspective, through love and heartache.

I was able to meet Trek and his Mommy and Daddy yesterday here in Colorado. I even got to snuggle her little lover in my arms for a brief moment, trying to give Chelsea a chance to eat her breakfast, but Trek knows his mama and I handed him back into her loving arms.

Trek needs your prayers. And so do his parents. And his big brothers. And their family.

I have a crush on him, I'm not going to lie. He is one handsome guy who gave me a few smiles and just reading about how he came into the world and how his life is inspiring others to live, well, you can't help but get a bit wrapped around his cute little toes.

Trek has a genetic disorder, one they tested Noah for. His parents are so brave and strong! They are going to spend his beautiful days here on earth building memories as a family. As they do, please keep them all in your prayers!

The size of your feet do not matter...it's the kind of footprints you leave here on earth that make a lasting impression!

40, Full, & Fertile

2012-01-12T23:57:00.001-07:00

Emily wants me to procreate once more. She wants another baby brother.

She FINALLY thinks they are cute.

I just turned 40. She was at the party...she remembers, however...

She's working on multiplication and division in school, but she's forgotten that 1 + 1 = 2 because Daddy doesn't want Mommy to procreate once more and he's the 1 that I would need in the equation.

I'm torn but not that torn. I'm more tired. Some women can tackle a bushel. I'm not them...

Kids are a blessings, don't get me wrong. And just because I turned 40 doesn't mean I think I'm too old to procreate...it's just that I thought I'd be WAY done with this scene, well, a few years back, to be honest.

I talked with a friend and told her our non-dilemma: that Em is finally warming up to having siblings so now that we're done she would like another, please.

My friend has also lost a child. She said she'd have a baby tomorrow if she could but doesn't feel like that's their path, either.

She thinks that we will probably always want "another" because we've lost children. With a kid in Heaven the kitchen table doesn't seem quite full.

I think she's pretty smart.

I also know that having more or being perpetually pregnant will never fill the void of the one I lost. I would never think that. Though Ryan looks exactly like his big brother, he's not a replacement...which is probably why "I'm torn but not that torn" if that makes sense?!

Torn because with each pregnancy I've lost and with each child that has stuck around, I've gotten a glimpse of beauty in meeting a new person I would not have met had I not walked through the pain.

Not that torn because I'm 40 and my heart is full and I'm loving the family I have been given like crazy and even though life hasn't turned out exactly as I had planned, it's still beautiful and I wouldn't change it.

Plus, I explained to Em that there are female and male sperm and that male sperm swim faster but tucker out after a bit but female sperm last longer so really it's a race to the finish, aka the egg, and whoever gets there first wins and if she wants a brother, there's no guarantee a male sperm will be the victor and what if she ends up with a little sister who would always want to play in her make-up, plus, I'm 40 so my eggs are getting old?!

Sheesh! The things I have to explain to this kid to get her off my back ;)

So, no, this is not an announcement, fyi. My quiver is full...

Tebowing

2012-01-09T11:34:00.000-07:00

So, unless you are a mole, living in a hole, you've heard of Tim Tebow by now. Even if you aren't a fan of the Broncos, don't care for football, and really only watch the Superbowl for either the half-time show or commercials or attend the parties just for the food, I would guess if you live in America, at the least, you've heard of the fall season game centered around a pig-skin where a bunch of guys crunch into one another and even more people, called fans, paint themselves and go berserk every weekend and Monday night as onlookers.

If you still don't know what I'm talking about, forget about it.

For those of you still reading, I think this is pretty cool.

So, in November I met a family, friends of friends, who was spending time at Craig Hospital, a top facility here in Denver specializing in spinal cord and brain injury and rehabilitation. Their 17 year old son was here learning a whole new way of living after an accident.

Before I called or met the family face to face, I really felt strongly that our family was to reach out to them. I've had a bit of history with hospital living, you might say, so wanted to encourage them in any way they needed.

I gave the mom a call and we talked a bit. She was so sweet and kind, saying they didn't need anything at all, but after a bit more time, she was open to us coming by with dinner. I asked her how long they thought they'd be here in Denver.

She said until January 12th.

I got a little choked up because in my heart I knew it was God's way of saying, "I told you I wanted you to reach out to them...if that date's not a sign, then you are slower than I thought..." Or something like that ;)

Anyway, over the last month and a half as we've gotten to know them a little, I also learned another common date we share: Yesterday...that is, besides it having been Elvis' birthday, it was my 40th and their son's 18th. Before Christmas his mom had told me that he hoped to be home in time for his birthday.

When we got back from Mexico (we went for 8 days over Christmas and enjoyed the sun and quiet non-commercialism...more about that in another post) I called to see how they were all doing and his mom said they had flights home for the 6th. Such great news since that was 6 days early and he'd be home with other family and friends in time to celebrate his 18th Birthday! What a milestone!

Ryan and I headed up last week to catch one more lunch with them before they flew home.

As we ate I asked him how it felt to turn down the most famous man in the NFL.

He humbly and quietly smiled, saying, "I just really want to go home."

You see, Tebow (well, his people) had given this guy a pass to yesterday's play-off game and the opportunity to meet Tim face to face...and as cool as that would have been for an 18th birthday gift (heck, my 9 year old daughter who didn't really like football until the last few games thought it was even cool...), it would have extended his already long stay here in Denver by a couple more days.

It's a generous gesture, but what I've gathered from Tebow's heart over the last several months and all the media reports, I'm guessing and would even bank on it, that Tim Tebow would have cheered this guy on, saying, "Go home, man! I'll be praying for you!"

Nifty, Thrifty, but not Fifty

2012-01-05T18:13:00.004-07:00

(I'm turning 40 on Sunday, but fifty rhymed, that's all)

So, my mom taught us girls to be thrifty...not to a fault where we'd snatch up a boatload of crap just because it was cheap, but to always look for quality at a good price.

She also taught us that EVERYTHING would one day be on sale. Everything.

In elementary school I was donned from head to toe in Polo, Izod, and Levi's...all usually found at Marshall's or TJMaxx, all at discounted prices. And my Gap and Guess jeans of the 80's were found on sale, too. My K-Swiss and VANS could also be found on sale, people! (So EIGHTIES!)

I will confess something, however, and that is:

I never went to Thrift Stores in Junior High or High School.

I was conceited and thought I was too good for such a thing.

Let me tell you a new confession:

With an income level of FIFTY BUCKS A WEEK in college, I discovered Thrift Stores.

I've been a faithful shopper ever since.

And, I've even exposed my daughter to Thrifts, along with TJMaxx, of course.

I'm in that group of girls that loves to say, "This? Oh, I got if for a dollar!" Or something like that, anyway...

So, this post has no other purpose than to share with you my "Show and Tell" from my Goodwill adventure today with Ryan. Items 5, 6 and 7 are from a resale shop where everything was 50% off today. Here goes:

1 Gap sweater dress for Em, $1.99
1 Super cute brand new w/tags girly polo style shirt for Em, $1.99
1 Brand NWT Nike Fit Dry shirt to train for Avon Walk, $1.75 (this was half off...)
1 Brand NWT Champion Double Dry shirt to train for walk, $1.75 (1/2 off, too...)
1 Kelly Green MIMI & COCO long sleeved yoga shirt, $7.00 (resale)
1 Black sweater White House/Black Market, $7.00 (resale)
6 Chocolate silk and bead mini lampshades for kitchen chandelier, $7.00 for set (resale)
1 Pair Banana Republic jeans, "Urban Flared Leg," for me, $5.99
1 Baby Gap dress shirt for Ryan, $1.99
1 Plaid dress shirt for Ryan, $1.49
1 Short Sleeved dress shirt for Ryan, $1.49
1 Carter's zip sweatshirt for Ry, $1.49
1 Cashmere scarf, made in Scotland, NWT, $4.99
1 Pair CL by Chinese Laundry brown leather flats, barely worn, $5.99
1 Pair cheapo Zoe&Zac eggplant little flats with bow, $2.50 (1/2 off sale...)
1 Pair Nine West fabulous stilettos for Spring, $2.50 (1/2 price)
1 Pair Black JOAN&DAVID GORGEOUS pumps, BARELY WORN, $19.99

Total with tax: $81.21

Yes, item 17 was a bit of a splurge, but, if you price compare, these babies retail at $200 which I wouldn't spend on shoes, so, there you go.

Random post, I know. But maybe you'll be inspired to "Recycle" this year by donating your stuff to your local charities and heading into your nearest Thrift for a little looksee. You never know what treasures you might find! Thrifting ROCKS!

And by "Busy" I mean...

2011-12-05T13:44:00.001-07:00

This guy keeps me on my toes. He's napping now which has allowed me this brief moment to post a few pics and random thoughts.

This is his cupboard.

See. He actually sleeps in there. Kidding, kidding! But it is his cupboard where, if he's not reading a book, throwing the dog her ball, trying to climb the stairs and walking around things, he's pulling out the unbreakable contents of this designated cupboard.

This drawer, the napkin drawer, and by "napkin" I mean 500, was not a designated drawer...except we hadn't put the latch on it yet, so Ryan found it and designated it napkin party central!

These are actually Jason's shooting ear pluggy cover thingamaboppers, but Emily likes to put them on once in a while to drown out "background noise" aka, her little brother...Ryan just likes to put them on to look like a recording artist...or Bob the Builder...

When my little lover is contained in his booster chair, I'm able to breathe deep for the brief amount of time it takes for him to snarf down his food before he's onto the next adventure.

I can't imagine life without him! I am so grateful God has allowed us the life we have lived thus far, the good, bad and ugly, in order to have met the kids we have, the one we don't anymore, and to gain the perspective that even in the day to day mundane, there is beauty, laughter, and meaning.

Okay, except that wasn't what I was going to post :) But I'll leave it at that. Grateful. Thankful. Busy but with good stuff. Finding joy in the day to day. Asking God to lead me by His Spirit so I'm not just doing things to do them or to please others, but to glorify God and walk in obedience to Him.

Yeah, that...

Saying Goodbye

2011-11-28T16:46:00.001-07:00

It's not something you ever really get used to. Specifically I mean, saying "Goodbye" for good. And by "for good" I mean until we meet again in God's presence, but who knows when that might be?

I get emails from friends, friends of friends, family, strangers, many different people who share a link to either a story, blog or email about a little kid who is sick or dying. I knew when Noah was in the hospital that he most certainly wasn't the first sick kid on earth and unfortunately would not be the last. And I don't mind receiving these emails at all! Though my heart breaks for them, knowing I can pray for the families helps me even on my own journey.

Weeks leading up to our decision to take him off life support and offer him as a gift to God, I was also made aware that we weren't the first parents, nor were we the last, to be placed in such a situation.

But, it's not something you ever really get used to, even if it's something with which you are familiar.

I have a girlfriend who has a non-profit organization, offering perinatal hospice care and support to families who have received a fatal diagnosis for their sweet baby. Because of support she had leading up to the delivery, moments together, and tender time of saying "Goodbye" when her daughter was born, she is able to encourage others on their journey...but, it's not something you ever really get used to just because you have experienced it.

Today I received an email about a little boy who was removed from his ventilator earlier this afternoon. His parents are brave. They are strong. And at the same time they are holding onto that last moment for a miraculous intervention this side of Heaven. And, all at the same time, their hearts are juggling a million emotions of peace in knowing their boy won't suffer any longer, grief because life didn't turn out the way they had hoped, dreamed or planned, anger because if they had control of the Universe they'd most certainly change the outcome of their biggest nightmare.

At least I am guessing that's what's going on in their hearts, among other things. I don't know because I am not them, and even though I've walked a very similar road, saying "Goodbye" is not something you ever really get used to...

Prayers for his family and for their hearts to know that even though his footprint on earth was small and too short for our liking, it's his heartprint that will last a lifetime. Either way, whether we can see the hope in it or not, it doesn't mean it doesn't suck and that it's ever easier to say "Goodbye."

Saying "Goodbye" isn't something any of us should ever get used to.

I'm not so sure, though, that there's anything we should ever get too used to...because when we do, even though there's a level of comfort, it can teeter between "familiar" and "taken for granted."

My point is this: life is precious, the first breaths, the final moments, and every day in between.

Better Late Than Never?

2011-11-15T20:50:00.000-07:00

Well, I know Halloween and Fall Break were a while ago, but I thought I'd post some pics anyway so you can see the Adventures of Emily and Ryan.

We had an early snow so we pulled all the pumpkins into the front hall. Ryan played "ball" with these every day until the snow melted.

For Halloween Ryan was "Adam" from the Garden. Just kidding. His little tooshie was raw from 2 months of diarrhea so we let him "air out" at Nana's house. FYI: his big D is gone and the kid broke 4, count 'em, 4 molars! Fun times...

Em and I got to ride horses at a friend's house while we were home in South Dakota. What's that? Yes, I am wearing a Pashmina with camouflage and running shoes...(no, I wasn't prepared for the chill at sunset!)

Bonus kid points go to Emily this year...she told me she wanted to be Cleopatra and wear her Egyptian princess costume again...it's from two years ago...the bonus points come in that Mama didn't have to make a costume this year! (*To tell the truth, I kind of missed making one...) LOVE our niece and nephews pajamas that glowed in the dark!!! And that's Aunt Kitty behind the sword...let's just say Ryan DID NOT LIKE Auntie's face painted like a kitty!

Ryan, or "Squirt," helped me pass out candy to the kiddos in the hood. And by "pass out" well, I have video of him chucking it left and right but I'm not sure how to post it here. He's into that stage of throw down/pick up/throw down/pick up! Fun for Mama!


In order to stop Squirt from chucking the candy dish all over the hallway I allowed him a few seconds of phone time. I NEVER allow this as a phone is NOT a toy...not in my book, anyway. I have a feeling this kid is going to be like his daddy...a techy brainiac genius type. I guess I did get to sew a little...we were invited to a friend's family party down the street. Emily insisted that we HAD to dress up, that EVERYBODY would be wearing a costume, so, I was either going to sport my senior year gold sequin prom dress circa 1990, my Grandma's old house robe with slippers and rollers with face cream, or a flapper dress I had made for a murder mystery party we went to 15 years ago...Can you tell which one I went with? I had to take in the dress, if you count that as sewing. And did we have the best costumes there, you ask? Well, yes. Yes we did, in fact...BECAUSE WE WERE THE ONLY FRIGGING PARENTS DRESSED UP AT THE PARTY! So, there you go...Halloween down, Thanksgiving in a week and then December the next week! This year is flying!

Made for Greatness!

2011-11-08T15:52:00.003-07:00

Do you believe you were made for greatness?

Sometimes in the day to day it doesn't seem like it. Sometimes in our darkest moments, greatness isn't even a word that comes to mind.

But, when God made you...when He thought you up, designed you, decided on your color scheme, personality, and heart attributes...greatness was what He had in mind.

But, this greatness He had in mind for you was not just so you could toot your own horn or reap all of the benefits...this greatness is to be an asset to all those you encounter, because He made you, on purpose, and is totally in love with you!

So, is there something that is keeping you from walking in greatness?

I know what's been holding me back for over 30 years and I'm not going to let it stand in my way anymore!

Want to join me on a road to be the best YOU God intended you to be?!

Where you'll find me for a while...

2011-11-04T12:43:00.002-06:00

So, if you've been here a while you know that I have another blog.

This is where I'll be spending some time writing while I make some layout and aesthetic changes on this blog.

Plus, it's just time to face my demons. Anyone care to join me?

Old Geezers

2011-10-31T13:40:00.000-06:00

So, last December my folks moved to within 10 minutes of us in Castle Rock, CO, hailing from Fountain Hills, AZ.

And with them came my 93 year old Grandpa at the time.

Here we are last Spring...

Today, Gramps as I affectionately have always called him, is 94, pushing 95 in March, 2012. Lou, as others know him, now lives a little over a mile from my house door to door. He needed a little extra care that my mom currently fighting cancer, could not provide...plus, he needed to have a bit more "social" interaction.

On my way home from running some errands yesterday, kid-free mind you, I decided to stop by and give my Gramps a kiss.

I also had a question to ask him, the answer to which "No" was not an option. I'm just that stubborn...

Let me set the scene for you: Three senior, and I mean senior, seniors, snuggled under warm blankets all in their individual reclining chairs watching football on a pretty sweet gigantic flat screen...each of them with a personal bowl of potato chips on their laps. No, they didn't have white tank tops on and none of them have enough hair to grow mullets. And to clarify, by watching I mean: in between naps, they catch the game. Anyway, when the kids are with me I usually sit in the chair next to my grandpa but I wanted to be a little closer to him so I knelt down next to him instead. He had been cat-napping but was happy to see me so we visited a while.

I told him I was sorry it had been so long since my last visit, that we had been out of town, Ryan has been sick off and on, etc. Believe me, it's not cool to spread kid germs to already frail grandparents! Especially whatever Ryan has had!

And then I dropped the question. My mom already told me he told her, "Thank you, but no." But, I'm like a preschooler...I'm persistent :)

"Gramps, I would like to invite you to our house for Thanksgiving."

You may think this is just your run of the mill question and it would be quite obvious for a grandparent to respond, "Well yes, of course, we'd be delighted! Thank you, Dearie! Is there anything we can bring?"

But my Gramps thinks at 94, he's a real bore. He thinks since his teeth aren't as dapper or useful as they once were, he'd just be a hassle to have around because he can't eat most of the food and will just sit in a chair and take up space.

He grabbed my hand and held it close to his chest. He looked at me and thanked me for the invitation but assured me it would be better if he didn't come.

I didn't let go of my grandpa's hand for the next 45 minutes...even when I wiped a drip from his nose. His hand was soft, no longer callused from 75+ years of hard work, and it was warm in mine.

I said, "Gramps, guess what?! You aren't a burden, you are just old. And, Thanksgiving is the perfect meal because you can eat pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, soft stuffing, and I'll even puree you some turkey, if that even sounds good to you? It's all soft food so you'll be able to eat whatever you want!"

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and smiled a little. He patted my hand with his other hand and said, "Sweetie, thanks, but really, it's too much work."

I knew I had to plead my case so I dropped a name. You've done it. When you need to make a connection work or want to get something done.

"Gramps, Jason's Grandpa is flying in from South Dakota. He hasn't gotten on a plane in probably 5 years, so it's a really big step for him. He wanted to see all of his grand kids and great-grand kids. I know he'd love to see you!"

"How old is he?"

"89."

Here's Jason's Grandpa and Em and Ry last summer...

These men have seen a lot of life. They have experienced great joys, losses, disappointments, celebrations, both widowers wishing they were anywhere else but living life on earth without their brides. They love their kids and grand kids and are grateful for the visits, but each night when they are alone I am not there with their thoughts of longings and what if's.

We talked about what my Gramps would have done if he hadn't been a trucker and school bus driver. He asked me what kind of work Jason's grandpa had done. We talked about a lot of things.

*Em was quiet in the car one day after we had visited Gramps. I asked her what was up and she said she didn't really know him that well so didn't really know what to say to him. I told her even though his outward appearance seems old and frail and can be a little intimidating to kids, my Gramps is a man with a story, just like anyone else. I told her she could tell him all about school and her friends, and in turn, to feel free to ask him anything.

The older people in our lives have a lot of stories to tell...yet they are the ones without social media outlets, the know-how of texting or cell phone usage. They are sitting quietly, often napping, in old folks' facilities, filled with 90 plus years of real-life lessons with so very much wisdom to offer. To learn their stories all you need is a chair and listening ear.

Somehow, though, in this day and age, it's the 20, 30 and even 40-somethings doing all the chatting.

There's nothing wrong with us sharing our experiences, our stories, even things we have learned on our journeys.

However, if there is an older person in your life, stop and ask yourself if you've asked them a question lately like, "Gramps, what was such and such like when you were 13, 24, 36, 58, 79...?" Sometimes a smile will grace their lips as they recall a memory, other times tears may well, or it's quite possible the memory just won't be there, trapped deep in their heart without a way to be shared.

My point is this, just taking the time to ask and to listen may add a bit more life to their already grown and tired souls.

Do you have an old geezer in your life?

I have two, my Gramps and Jason's, and they'll be eating mashed potatoes at my dining room table together for Thanksgiving this year. And for that, I am thankful...

My Ry Guy

2011-10-25T11:23:00.000-06:00

"Mom, another picture? Seriously? Can't a kid get a break from the paparazzi?!"

Priceless finger prints on my clean windows

Diving into play

Crawling in the grassy yard

Ry being silly with his hoodie

Proud parents on Ryan's 1st birthday!

It's been a busy Fall. Em's enjoying school so much! She went to camp with her class and loved it which is a huge milestone for her! She literally loves getting up each morning and heading off to see what the day will hold. If I hadn't mentioned it, we aren't homeschooling this year. Jason and I prayed a lot about it and with no other explanation other than the Lord opening the doors wide, Em headed off to a very special local school this year and is loving the experience of learning once again! Jason is a pretty wonderful guy as he attributed her return to a love of learning to our time together doing homeschool, spending quality time reading and, not to brag, but to be plain honest, me taking the time to listen to my kid. It was a difficult year and wonderful all wrapped up in one package. I'll do it again if God leads us, but as of now, she is flourishing and we trust God she is in His hands and in the center of His will.

As far as Ryan goes, that little man has brought so much joy to our lives. Em thinks he's great and we think she's right!

I just have one bone to pick with the kid...

He has had the "Big D" for over a month now. I don't think I've informed you of his digestive journey thus far, but early on he struggled with the "Big C" for several months, trying to pinch it at all costs because it was obviously painful. I will spare you the details but let's just say, it wasn't pretty! I started pureeing prunes and giving him a natural plant source of arabinogalactan which worked wonders! He stopped avoiding what Freud said we all love to do and was pooping along seemingly for a good 5 months or so.

And then, a little over a month ago things started flowing a little too freely. Let's just say bath time became a part of our morning routine! He has maintained an exceptional appetite, along with reaching his milestones. But more recently on our road trip to and from South Dakota, with Ry's behind being washed off at an Interstate Rest Area, well, let's just say this mama has been pounding the Internet and library research sites.

And the diagnosis, "Toddler Diarrhea" just isn't acceptable, nor scientific enough for me! Yeah, there were several websites that said it's normal for some babies to just have diarrhea for the first 3 years of life. What a load!?!!!

Diarrhea=Mal absorption=Poor Nutrition

If a professional ever gives you the diagnosis "Toddler Diarrhea" turn around and walk out the door. They are stating the obvious. It's just like the "diagnosis" of "Chronic Fatigue Syndrome" which is a fancy way of telling you what you already know! You are tired all the time! Duh! BUT WHY?! Don't get me started here...

I haven't fed, knowingly at least, Ryan foods containing major allergens. I did give him a few gluten free/dairy free/egg free waffles, but of course they had soy in them, so have halted those. He literally just had corn for the first time in his 14 months of life, 3 days ago. And I'm not on the American corn bandwagon, so he won't be consuming mass quantities of that! The only grains he's had are brown rice, gluten-free oatmeal, quinoa, and chia, with the exception of kamut which I soon realized was a fancy Egyptian name for wheat. That's been out of his system for maybe 2 months now. I know he's allergic to eggs because his little belly immediately breaks out in a rash after eating them, which sucks...but I'm allergic to them, too, so it's not that hard not to buy them...anyway, he's mainly been a meat, veggie, fruit and rice kind of guy.

So why the "Big D" is the big question.

He has an appointment tomorrow with our doctor. I have a feeling I already know what's going on...the kid, along with his sis, parents and pretty much whole lineage of relatives, has some food sensitivities which, in turn, translate into bowel issues. Diverticulitis, IBS, chronic constipation/diarrhea, minor and major food allergies/sensitivities, gluten/dairy/egg intolerance, just to name a few of his genetic contributions. I will seek to find answers without invasive procedures...I think his brother endured enough of that for our whole family.

Add to this the fact that the FDA thinks it's awesome to genetically modify foods (GMO) that God Almighty created differently, throw in 100 years of refined foods that our bodies aren't used to breaking down, and that's my theory of why we have a whole generation of food allergies, sensitivities, certain diseases and other disorders.

Anyway, people, when they hear the food sensitivities/allergies that I have or Emily has, always say, "What can you eat?" I can eat a ton of foods and there are so many awesome blogs and cookbooks out there that are allergen friendly, so I never think of myself as missing out on anything. Em and I made homemade Oreo type cookies from Cybele Pascal's cookbook just recently...Em said she likes them way better than the original! I'm a foodie, I'll admit it, so I'm seeking food that tastes good and is good for me and my family, not just something to shove down our throats. Having food sensitivities has helped me think a bit more about what we eat and why.

So, this is where we are on our journey. Thankfully, in spite of the diarrhea, we have a very active and happy little man on our hands. We know we will need to tweak a few things in order for him to flourish and be healthy, but I'm thankful for the last 5 years plus of research I've already done so that this task won't feel so overwhelming.

Chemo-sabi!

2011-10-06T21:18:00.000-06:00

So, today I was supposed to meet my mom at her chemo appointment at 11:30.

She had forewarned me that the room wasn't really that big and there may not be a lot of space...that I may be bored just sitting there with her for 2 hours while she has "poison", as she calls it, pumped into her veins.

But I'm empathetic. Not enough to have my boobs cut off, but enough to want to sit through boring appointments with her! So, Auntie came over to the house to spend time with my handsome little lover boy and I set off.

We live about a half hour to forty five minutes from the hospital and oncology offices where my mom is receiving treatments. I decided to call my BFF on the way there and catch up since it had been way too long. As a result, the 20 minute traffic delay didn't seem so bad, but I did arrive a 1/2 hour late to my mom's appointment, thinking I had missed a good 30 minutes of toxic tonic time with my mom. My dad met me in the lobby and we headed in to see Bebe. She was in an examination room waiting for, what, she did not know...

Someone checked to see what it was my mom was waiting on, besides getting the show on the road. Apparently she had a doctor's appointment first, so after that was all said and done, it was an hour into when my mom thought she'd be done with 1/2 her chemo.

We headed out to the chemo room.

Oh! My! Word!

Imagine a room as big as your family room with a dozen recliners in it, 6 and 6 opposite one another, and a dozen portable IV stands. Granted, there was a sky light, windows on one wall and a glass wall into the nurses station on the other wall, so there was ample lighting, but the scene was nothing short of a blood bank donation station or a gore-less scene from M.A.S.H.

I ASSURE you, there's no way on earth that cute kids at Children's Hospital are lined up getting chemo without space for their Mommy or Daddy to snuggle up next to them. What the freak? How wasn't there room in such a setting, under such circumstances, for a loved one, friend, or family member to sit aside their chemo recipient and press on through 2 hours?

I tell you what, there's got to be a better way! There were cute little old men and ladies in there, sitting in their comfy chairs, getting chemo all by themselves. The sweet little man who had had a stroke, snuggled under a warming blanket, stole my heart. The brave woman next to my mom, IV flowing, fighting her disease, seemed alone.

I smiled at each one. I made eye contact. I let their hearts know that I was sorry they were doing this, that I thought they were brave and strong.

And then I had to walk out of the room with my dad because there wasn't room at the Inn for us.

My dad and I headed to the bistro and had a bite for lunch. After about 45 minutes, we were wrapping it up and my mom called my dad to tell him that she hadn't even started her chemo.

So, yes, if you are doing all the math, we are now at the "15 minutes until I'm outta here" moment my mom was looking forward to and she hadn't even had one red drop of her chemo yet!

They couldn't find her port, for goodness sake!

After 4 painful pokes, the nurse called radiology, set up an x-ray for my mom, and, long story short, I called my mom at 5:00 after I had been home for 3 hours trying to get Ryan down for a nap, to see what the scoop was...she was in the car finally on her way home.

...her port had shifted a little in her arm so the nurse couldn't find it, but they finally did with the help of the x-ray and my mom had her second round of chemo, by herself, in a room full of other alone people, all of whom were not her family members.

So, next time I go I'm taking my own folding chair, by golly, and I'll blog an interview with my mom...and anyone else in there that will talk to me...because we'll have 2 whole hours, or 5 and a half, or whatever...

"To Infinity and Beyond!"

2011-09-27T10:09:00.006-06:00

"To the Bat Mobile!" - Batman

"There's no need to fear, Under Dog is here!" - Underdog

"Up, up and away!" - Superman

"Avengers assemble!" - Captain America

"Wonder Twin powers, activate! Form of an iceberg!" - Wonder Twins

So, I was reading through a book on leadership the other day and found this awesome prayer. (At any one given time you can find me reading a broad spectrum of topics, from leadership to parenting to nutrition and recipes to biographies and topics specific to women and conquering the world...)

Here is a list of titles of the pile of books next to my bed currently, in case you are bored or don't have some reading materials of your own:

NIV Study Bible by God
The Skinnygirl Dish by Bethenny Frankel
Leading on Empty by Wayne Cordeiro
How Babies Talk by Roberta Michnick Golinkoff, PhD and Kathy Hirsh-Pasek, PhD
Bittersweet by Shauna Niequist
The Allergen-Free Baker's Handbook by Cybele Pascal
The 4-Hour Body by Timothy Ferriss
The Healthy Child by our doctors at Partners in Pediatrics (Ryan and Em are both sick...)
No Compromise, The Life Story of Keith Green by Melody Green and David Hazard
I am Nujood, Age 10 and Divorced by Nujood Ali with Delphine Minoui
The Secrets Women Keep by Dr. Jill Hubbard
Climbing the Ladder in Stilettos by Lynette Lewis
When a Crocodile Eats the Sun by Peter Godwin

Oh my goodness! It's no wonder it takes me a while to finish one book! And that doesn't even include my pile of library books! Holy Schnikeys! After writing that list I almost forgot why I was blogging in the first place...Oh yeah! Oh, but first, let's not forget the book that is ALWAYS on my reading list, the one that has permanent residency on the back of my toilet, where at one point each day, I truly have a moment of solitude: One Minute of Margin by Dr. Richard Swenson.

Okay, so, back to the prayer I found in "Leading on Empty," page 103. Jason and I have been praying about some specific things lately, seeking God for His direction and will, waiting on Him for open and closed doors and directives for the next season of life. Well, I hadn't actually looked at this book in a few weeks and snatched it up the other day, seeing I hadn't left a bookmark in the book. The thought "Chapter 7" came to my mind, so I sat down and started reading. The heading, "Monks to the Rescue" stood out to me so I started reading what is currently my favorite prayer! Here is the author's adaptation to a prayer once written by the Franciscan Monks who started serving the Lord in the early 1200's.

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, hard hearts, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that you may live from deep within your heart where God's Spirit dwells.

May God bless you with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation, and war, so you may reach out your hand to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world and in your neighborhood, so you will courageously try what you don't think you can do, but in Jesus Christ you'll have the strength necessary to do.

May God bless you so you remember we are all called to continue God's redemptive work of love and healing in God's place, in and through God's name, in God's Spirit, continually creating and breathing new life and grace into everything and everyone we touch.

Side note: When I was in elementary school some of the priests at my church wore long brown robes with rope waist ties and large wooden bead rosaries. Picture Friar Tuck in Robinhood and that's totally the look. My dad informed me they were Franciscan priests who had taken oaths of poverty in order to rid their hearts and minds from distractions of the world and serve the poor and outcast. For those hungry for history, it was started by Italian Giovanni Bernardore, known as Francesco by his father, and finally called Francis, who is known to us today as St. Francis of Assisi.

Anyway, throughout history the Franciscan order has morphed and changed, but one thing we have from them is recorded prayers. I haven't practiced Catholicism in almost 25 years, but this prayer is without boundaries of denomination. Heck, it's without boundaries altogether!

I LOVE it because it's totally the way God works!

God works in OPPOSITE WORLD! He doesn't do things the way we think He should and, as a result, it helps our eyes be opened to life as it was meant to be...selfless, without hindrances, lived to the fullest extent, full of love, without hate, lived out in complete trust, encouraging others along the way.

My favorite part of the prayer, at least for right now, is the part that says, "May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world and in your neighborhood, so you will courageously try what you don't think you can do, but in Jesus Christ you'll have the strength necessary to do."

If that part of the prayer doesn't make you want to tear open the front of your shirt to reveal your superhero insignia, I don't know what will!

No matter what hat you wear, what title is before or after your name, where you work, if you are out of work, or if your over-time job is that of being a mom, God is the One Who can give us strength to face ANYTHING! ANYTHING! ANYTHING!

Don't let the opinions of others pull you down! Don't believe lies!

God made you ON PURPOSE! He has plans for you!

And if anyone ever accuses you of having the audacity to believe you can actually change the world for the good, just thank them and keep going, because with God's strength, literally anything is possible!

Gotta have faith!

2011-09-22T09:00:00.004-06:00

Today my mom starts chemo. I wish there was no such thing as cancer, sickness or any type of disease or pain, suffering, or heartache.

I wish magic was real, fairy dust worked, and really awesome things happened when I twitched my nose...not only cures for disease, no more famines and war, but even instantaneous house cleaning, disappearing laundry piles, and steaming fresh dinner on the table, along with a spotless kitchen, by 6:00 every night.

In all truth and honesty, I wish my reality matched my faith...because I have HUGE faith! I do not doubt that God can do anything at any time in any part of the whole wide world...and yet at the same time, I've known sadness and deep disappointment in the way my heart yearns for things or outcomes and the way that God runs the Universe.

I'm not disillusioned to believe that life on earth will be without its struggles. It's life on earth, the first clue. I just wish I could take away other people's pain and sorrow.

At the same time, I know full well that it is through hardships, suffering, resistance, opposition, challenge, and pretty much anything that drop kicks us out of our comfort zones, that makes us grow stronger, putting down deeper roots, and allowing the false fluff of faking it to fly away.

My mom is really brave. It's not that she wants to be brave. She doesn't want to walk through this as much as you and I don't want to walk up and order our favorite java treat in a busy coffee shop BUCK NAKED. Yeah...who wants to do that? Who even wants to see that, right?!

And you know, this journey being one of her daughters, watching, listening, praying...it's been interesting. For the most part, it's been beautiful, in spite of the word cancer. The very word has opened doors to people willing to be vulnerable, real, candid, honest, and sincere. And, of course, the word cancer has also brought out some of the well-meaning sentiments. Like, "Betty, you already ARE healed. You don't need to DO anything about it but just have enough faith, because you ARE healed."

Yep. Someone said that. To my mom. If the person had said it to me, let me just say there would have been a can of whoop-ass opened at that moment. You see, my mom has faith. Like I said before, it could be a bumper sticker on the back of my car that states, "My mom has more faith than your honor student..." or something to that effect.

But let me just expose something that I feel is just one of the reasons some people shy away from God and church in the first place. Yes, in order to believe in a God we cannot see, we need faith. And, yes, there is a woman in the Bible whom Jesus spoke to and told her that her faith had made her well. Not her willpower, but her trust that Jesus was who He said He was and that God was bigger than her condition. BUT, here's where I get a little crusty. When people think they have control over a negative situation by sheer will power, positive thinking, or even trying to manipulate an outcome through prayer and fasting. And, this really gets my panties in a wad...I've even seen it here in blog world, but when an idea is put out there that if we just get enough people praying, it will change the circumstances...yes, historically God has moved when His people prayed...but at the same time, He knew their motives. He always knows our motives...and if motives are "bandwagon" or sheer entertainment, well, how pure is that?

So, basically, that thought process is stating there's a magic number that will change the outcome to line up with how we want it and if we can just hit that magic number of people praying...Or, I've heard people say, "Well, I guess I didn't have enough faith..." or "You know, you have sin in your life so that's why this is happening to you..." or "God's trying to teach you a lesson." Jesus blew the "sin in your life=why this is happening to you" theory out of the water.

ANYWAY, I am ALL FOR enlisting a lot of people's prayers, not just for the healing of a dying little boy or the healing of a cancer patient. But, what about enlisting prayer on a daily basis. What about talking to God in an intimate way, regularly that doesn't come with an agenda or a "What I want for Christmas" list? Since God is real and Santa's not...And, what about having faith and trusting God because He's good, even when we don't agree with how He does things? And not just when it works in our favor or benefits those we love?

When we pray for other people and the rough road they are walking, it's time that we are one, not thinking of ourselves, and two, communicating with the God who is in love with His creation. How great is that?!

Jesus gave us a model by which to pray. The part in there that says, "Your Kingdom come, Your will be done..." I would guess many want to leave out the "Your will be done" part because it doesn't line up with our own.

Are we able to trust that even though we may not understand why we walk through trials and suffering or why our lives aren't as smooth as we would like, that maybe, just maybe, maybe, maybe, "Your will be done" is a beautiful thing? That perhaps God sees a bigger picture, and even though we don't, He's got beauty in mind for each of us?

I don't have all the answers, but I do know this. My mom's got faith. And my mom's got cancer. And my mom's got her first round of chemo today for the next half year. And God's got my mom. So, I have faith in Him.

What's in a name?

2011-09-19T14:30:00.003-06:00

Jason and I both wanted our kids' names to mean something, not just sound good to the ear. And by "mean something", we wanted their names to bestow a blessing on their character and life, a kind of calling, if you will.

I knew for sure for our first kid, if it was a boy, or girl I guess, that I didn't want a name where a synonym for "Rambunctious, wild, moronic, dare-devil" could ever be found. I also wasn't keen on the kid's name meaning "pansy or wimp or lily-livered fraidy cat."

I actually knew for our first kid, since I didn't really know what I was doing being a first time mom, that I could sure use a little helper. Someone who would be my assistant, a hard-worker, a kid who could roll with the punches and not give me too much flack. Is that wrong?! :)

Well guess what?! Emily means "Industrious, strong worker."

And, with Noah, since we knew he was a boy via ultrasound, Jason had chosen either Jude which means "Praise" or Noah that means "Peace." Either name had beautiful meaning in our book, but when I was pushing and our son was taking his sweet old time, Jason chose "Noah" in the delivery room and said, "Noah, come out!" Noah's middle name was Steven. It means "Crowned." Ironically, it's not a royal crown but the kind of crown you receive after a race of endurance. It fit him, and his powerful little life calling, beautifully!

For all of our kids we had actually always loved the name "Ryan" either for a girl or boy.

Now, in choosing a name, it was so very important to us that there were no booger eating, cranky, mean, violent, creeper people attached to the name. We had to skip one boy name we had been thinking about for Noah because there was this creeper guy in college that always gave all the girls back/neck rubs and it just gave me the heebie jeebies. Thankfully there are millions more from which to choose :)

But let me tell you about my history with Ryan's.

The first Ryan I ever met was in Michigan while I was in high school. He was a really great friend that had a fantastic sense of humor, such an easy-going personality and true character. As a grown-up, I know he loves his wife and is a loving dad.

The second Ryan I met was my husband's friend. Jason lived next door to Ryan's grandparents growing up. Jason's and Ryan's families went to the same church in their small town, and actually still do. The first time I met Ryan was after my freshman year of college when I went up to meet Jason's family and everyone else that came along with the package of falling in love with a boy from South Dakota. I liked him instantly. I could tell he was intense, sincere, and a really hard worker. I could also tell that he was the kind of guy who was a true friend to Jason, the way Jason is to others. As a grown man, Ryan adored his wife and 3 sons, was a faithful friend, was a man of his word and really cared about the quality of life, life to the fullest.

I met the third Ryan as a young married woman. He had the hots for one of my best friends, and she reciprocated. To get the boy to talk was like pulling teeth, but I could sense his depth of love for my dear friend and so wasn't going to stand in the way of watching them fall madly in love! Like the other Ryan's, this one loves his wife and children with his whole heart, works diligently to provide for them, and is a man of integrity.

Bonus material: All three Ryan's are easy on the eyes...in a strictly platonic sort of way, just sayin'.

Ryan means "Little King" or "Kingly." Maybe that's why I easily couple it with "Lion" when I sing to my little man?

Ryan the Lion...Ryan the Lion...

All I know is that when Jason and I took a leap of faith and got pregnant after losing Noah, then learned it was another boy, I knew, as we did with all of our children, that this child, too, was not ours but God's. I knew that God loved him more and had a plan for his life. I knew that my knowing him on this earth was, and is, a tremendous blessing, but also a huge responsibility...

...I also knew his name had to be a blessing not only to his character, but to God and to the people he would encounter.

Ryan means "Little King." His middle name is Everett. It means "Strong."

I can already tell my sweet Ryan is both of these things. I also have to say, I am so very grateful he is in the company of three Godly men who have set the tone for how to humbly carry the meaning of their name. Not that they are perfect, but kings in their own right.

Today, I write in honor and memory of the second Ryan, after whom we named our beautiful baby boy. What an honor it is to raise a boy by the name of Ryan!

Soup, it's what's for dinner!

2011-09-15T17:04:00.005-06:00

So, I've been called the "Soup Nazi" by some who love me and my random made up soup recipes. I must confess, I love soup and could eat it and make up a new recipe every other day. It's souper easy and coupled with a salad and/or some good gf bread, well, it's a little bit of heaven :)

I've been asked to share, and with the crisp air at night and fall right around the corner, I'd be happy to...

Butternut Squash Soup is simmering right now on my stove top:

First, items needed (I buy organic, but use whatever you have):

One butternut squash (scoop seeds out, clean, toss w/olive oil, bake at 325 for 15, set aside)
One Pink Lady or other yummy apple, cut up, skin on
Olive oil
1/2 yellow onion, chopped
3 or 4 stalks celery, chopped
1/2 tsp ginger (powdered)
1/4 tsp sage (powdered)
1/4 tsp dried rosemary
1 Tbsp organic Better Than Bouillon chicken base (I'm gluten free and haven't had issues w/this stock...it DOES NOT SAY IT'S GF, SO IF YOU HAVE CELIAC, USE YOUR FAVORITE CHICKEN OR VEGGIE STOCK!!!)
6 cups pure water
Plain yogurt or sour cream (I use goat yogurt b/c I'm dairy free)
Parmesan or asiago cheese, shredded

Cut and quarter one butternut squash, scooping out seeds and pulp (clean seeds, dry on paper towel, toss w/olive oil and sea salt in bowl, bake on cookie sheet at 325 for 15 minutes, set aside for later)
Set oven to 350. Pour or brush however much olive oil you want (I do probably 2 to 3 Tbsp) on the skin side of squash and place pieces skin side up in baking dish with 2 Tbsp water.
Bake for 60 to 70 minutes. (I did this all last night and then refrigerated it to use for today...)
Okay (I'm so cheffy with my steps, huh?)...in a large stock pot on medium to medium high heat (I LOVE my gas stove!!!) pour 2 to 3 Tbsp olive oil in pan.
Put chopped onion, celery, and apple in oil and saute until onions start to brown.
Add ginger, sage and rosemary. Stir.
Scoop cooked squash out of skin into celery/onion/apple mixture. Put a little water in the baking dish that you used to cook squash to get the yumminess out of the pan and into your soup pot.
Add bouillon 6 cups water to pot.
Let this all simmer on medium to medium low for 1/2 hour to 45 minutes, stirring occasionally.
Scoop soup into your blender or, in my case, my NINJA :) and puree. If all of it doesn't fit into your blender, that's okay! Scoop some, blend, pour into pot, scoop some more out, blend, pour into pot, etc, until it's all smooth.
Scoop into bowls, top with a dollop of yogurt and a sprinkle each of toasted seeds and Parmesan or asiago, or no cheese if you are dairy free like me.
Probably makes 6 bowls of soup, but haven't ever paid attention!
Enjoy :)

Jealousy

2011-09-14T09:26:00.005-06:00

Have you ever been jealous of someones life? Maybe their circumstances, their title, bank account, seemingly problem-free family life?

I just received a text from one of my best friends telling me that her sweet Grandma was now with Jesus.

I'm not trying to sound overly spiritual, because actually, my initial response surprised me even a little, but I immediately felt jealousy. Not because my friend's heart is hurting. That would just be weird. Not because she and her family are grieving the loss of a beloved woman.

A different kind of jealousy.

I had just tucked Ryan in for his morning nap, taking in his cuteness, soaking in his little head snuggled into my shoulder, in awe of God and the gift of being able to hold his chubby feet in the palm of my hand. As I always do, I prayed over him and his time of rest, that the Lord would bless his dreams with dreams only He could instill in my son's heart. I prayed God would put a deep desire in Ryan all the days of his life to pursue God and serve Him always, to be used for His Kingdom and to be a man who longed for Jesus' return. And I thanked God, as I smooched Ryan's sweet, soft cheeks, that He loved him more than I ever could and, in His goodness, had a plan from the beginning of time to save the baby I love bigger than the Universe from death because of sin in the world.

I had to leave his room (because he wouldn't fall asleep if I stayed there staring at him, obviously, and because I was so choked up, thankful that God is so in love with His creation that He'd do what He did for crummy old us...).

And then I got my friend's text.

My phone was on the kitchen counter where Jeremy Riddle was belting out "What Joy is Found" and, at that moment, I was overcome with jealousy...

...a different jealousy than the kind that leaves a sick, dissatisfied feeling in our hearts. Instead, the kind that instills a passionate pursuit and longing for the very thing we were created to do. Like when you just feel this intense drive or motivation to do something with all your heart!

Like worship at the feet of the All-loving Father, the One True God, King of kings and Lord of lords, Creator, Divine, Everlasting, Good, Holy, Healer, Redeemer, Savior, Majestic, Pure, Beautiful, Wise God.

We weren't made for here. We were made to live in His presence.

Do you long for it or does the thought scare the tar out of you? Or is it the furthest thing from your mind because the busyness of life has set in?

I'm not going to lie and say it's the thought at the forefront of my heart every. single. moment.

But at that moment, when I learned that my friend's Gramma was with Jesus, it was...

Through thick and thin...

2011-09-01T10:16:00.005-06:00

I want to share with you my mom's Facebook status from yesterday. Then I'll share some of my own thoughts...

"I want to thank everyone for their love poured out to me in prayers and well wishes, flowers, cards and lots of dinners! Just received a synopsis on the pathology report from my 30-something breast surgeon who really rocks......the cancer cells did not go beyond the first lymph node.....and the tumor was not larger than they anticipated. Thank You, Jesus.....my Faithful Savior.....my Hiding Place......my Comfort.....my King!"

My mom means this....that is, she's sincere in her thanks for the encouragement, but also, regarding that last sentence, giving thanks to Jesus, her Faithful Savior, Hiding Place, Comfort and King, that part she means.

And she means it all the time.

It's easy to have those sentiments about the Lord when all is well, when we receive good reports, when life is smooth and peachy keen.

That's often when people are able to warm up to God, let Him in a little, give Him credit, even admit a bit of admiration for Him.

But what about when life hits the fan?

What about the bad days, the ill reports, the moments that grip us with fear or utter and total disappointment and despair? What about those moments?

Is Jesus still all of those things that my mom mentioned in her Facebook status?

I will say this...He is. He is even more! He doesn't change just because our circumstances change. God is the Only One in the Universe that remains Faithful and True.

He remains.

He is unshakable.

A Rock. Our Firm Foundation. Never-changing. Always and Forever. The One True Lover of our souls.

And for my mom, whether her super awesome cancer surgeon had told her the cancer had spread, or they got it all, she would have posted those same sentiments about the Lord...because my mom knows that God is in love with her, regardless of circumstance, that He will never leave her or kick her to the curb.

The reason I can share this with such confidence is I've been able to witness my mom over the last 30+ years as she has trusted the Lord with her life, as well as our lives as her children.

She takes Him at His word...He promises that He is Who He says He is...no less. She knows He's not a liar.

I tell you what, through thick and thin, whether it's fashionable, popular or comfortable, my mom trusts God. I am so grateful for her example! And I am so thankful to love and trust Him, too!

The Birthday Boy!

2011-08-29T09:45:00.004-06:00

Jason and I hugged maybe a little more than normal yesterday. We just kept staring at our son, looking at one another, and then finally stating the obvious, "We have a one year old son. We've never had a one year old son before...Thank You, Lord God, for the blessing of Ryan Graves!"

Not trying to be morbid here or overly dramatic.

The truth is, becoming Emily's parents we were blessed with the awe and realization that nurturing a child is not only a gift but a lifelong mission of great responsibility. When Noah was born this understanding was only solidified, then taken to a deeper awe of cherishing each moment, one day at a time. The day Ryan was born I knew time was precious, even the day to day, un-glamorous stuff.

I'm not going to lie and say I am a perfect steward of every moment of each day. But, as Jason and I recently took the Love Language quiz, it was confirmed that our most treasured language is time. We both topped the charts in this area. (I HIGHLY recommend you heading over there now and taking a few minutes to assess your heart. Then, talk to your loved ones and friends about taking the quiz. We had Em take it and it helped us know what we already did...the girl loves to snuggle and spend quality time with people she loves.) So, wasting time is the ultimate blow to my heart. I don't want to waste yours, I get irritated when I've wasted my own, and let's just say, I'm not a fan if someone has overstepped mine.

All that to say, looking back over the last year, Ryan's first year of life, I've been beyond blessed with the opportunity to hibernate and spend time with a very precious little growing soul. I literally sing songs when he poopies, so thankful he has healthy bowels finally. I love greeting him in the morning, seeing his smile and smothering him with kisses. Snuggling him before bed for a few minutes, praying God's blessings over his life, God's calling and anointing in him to glorify God in all that he does, is one of my favorites times of day...crawling on the floor with him, playing catch and fetch...not just giving him a bottle since he's big enough to hold it, but nuggling him as he inhales every drop. So many things. I do not take these for granted.

I know from what we walked through with Noah and having met and spoken with countless other people who have walked similar roads that time is something to be cherished, it goes quickly, and it's nothing we can ever regain.

So, you've never lost a loved one. You still have healthy parents, grandparents, and your friends and family are healthy as a band of horses. That is totally awesome! It's something to rejoice in!

For the most part, that is my life, too! Yes, my mom has breast cancer but she's, "Stronger than your honor student." Yes, my dad is 66 years old today and can't lift a washer and dryer by himself anymore. I've got a healthy husband, healthy kids, and I'm currently the healthiest I've been in my life and I'm pushing 40...

My point is this...whether you've weathered tragedy personally, walked through it with another person, or only observed it from afar...are you stuck on the hamster wheel or are you thanking and living one day at a time?

Because guess what?! There will ALWAYS be financial troubles, broken bones, disease, torrential weather, infidelity, famine, heartache, disappointment, homelessness, someone else with more stuff, etc, etc.

But, tomorrow isn't promised.

TODAY!

Today, start small. Give a hug. Hold a hand. Smooch some lips. Read with your kids. Forgive. Stop, rest, heal. Listen. Pray. Dip your finger in the frosting and let your kids lick the beaters. Forget the obsessive cleaning for a day and discover that the time you spent instead playing a game is what will put a healthy deposit of love and security in your kids' hearts...your husband's heart.

Jesus said, "...therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow has enough trouble of its own..." Matthew 6:34

...and then, "who by worrying can add a single day to his life?"

TODAY! One. Day. At. A. Time.

(I lost my little white thingamajiggy that helps me upload pics...I am headed out to purchase one and will then show you how sweet Ryan was downing his very first allergen free birthday treat!)

Resting and Healing

2011-08-25T20:44:00.003-06:00

I got to kiss my mom.

She's one tough lady, that's for sure!

I won't share what she said to the nurse when the nurse asked her why she was in pain...let's just say "chopped" was one of the verbs...

My dad said my mom got a pretty good night sleep. But, let's be honest. To all my nurse friends out there, we all know it's not a hotel, it's a hospital so sleep, though necessary for healing, is kind of a joke in the hospital unless one is knocked out.

I'm headed up there with my big sis to learn home care along with my dad. When they told us that my mom would be released likely the day after surgery, I'm pretty sure we all thought they were on crack. But, she's much more alert, up and walking and gaining strength today, so, apparently the medical team was not, in fact, on crack.

She'll be released later this afternoon. Thanks for your continued support and prayers for my mom and our family!

This is the first leg of the journey...now for all that is ahead of us, we know with God's strength and an encouraging group around, she's gonna kick cancer in the pants!

She's out and in recovery

2011-08-25T16:06:00.002-06:00

I'm headed down to see my mom now. My dad and big sis got to see her.

She said, "I feel like I got hit by a Mack truck..."

Thanks for all your prayers.

Here's to the next leg of this journey...

2nd Update

2011-08-25T15:05:00.002-06:00

The surgeon came in to tell us that her portion of the surgery went well and is complete. Now the plastic surgeon is with her finishing his part. My mom will be out of surgery around 4pm, then to recovery and then finally into her room.

The cancer did spread to her left armpit, so the surgeon removed a series of lymph nodes to be sent off for diagnostics. What this means is that what was originally only a chance she would have to have radiation, now is part of the protocol.

My dear friend came to sit with me so I'm going to go.

Thank you so much for your prayers for my mom! I know you all have journeys of your own going on right now, and so please know we don't stop praying for you and yours even though we are in the midst of our own needs. Please feel free, as you did when Noah was in the hospital, to put your prayer needs in the comment section and we'll pray for you, too!!!

I will post again later when I see her and then we are probably setting up a Caringbridge site for my mom so she can post her heart and thoughts and you guys can send her messages of encouragement there.

Surgery update...

2011-08-25T11:57:00.003-06:00

For those of you praying for my mom, I just wanted to share an update...

She and my dad got to the hospital early this morning. They started surgery at 8:15. My dad just got a call at 11:45 that they had completed one side and are moving onto the next. They expect to be done around 2pm. They said all is well and looking good.

Dad went back to my mom's recovery room to rest a bit, since they were up at 3am. My big sis and I sniffed out a warm solarium with west views of the entire Rocky Mountain range, from Pikes Peak in Colorado Springs to the Wyoming border. It was also the only place my computer could find wi-fi.

It's surreal knowing what is going on as I sit here and take in these beautiful views.

I don't think, "Why do bad things happen to good people?" I don't wonder that. We live on Earth, in a fallen world, and as my mom said as soon as she was diagnosed with breast cancer, "God doesn't owe me life on my terms."

And, anywhere you look in the Bible, there are trials, pain, and suffering, mixed with hope and joy and great expectation...people with fairly decent records and the ones society and religious circles had kicked to the curb.

I just wish my mom didn't have to go through this...this pain...this portion of the journey...really, any of this.

As we prayed together last night, she said, "I want to use this for God's glory. I want to be able to encourage others who will have to face this one day. This will not be in vain."

My mom is a rock. She isn't The Rock. But she stands on The One Who Is.

As I prayed with my folks, all of us holding hands over the table, I was overwhelmed and so very thankful that God introduced them, that our family of 5 growing up was always close, that my parents came to know the Lord when my big sister and I were young ladies, that we've been able to grow in our walks with the Lord as our family has grown over the years. I am so thankful my parents love one another. Grateful they didn't get stuck in a religious rut that was an endless grave of duty and performance. Thankful to know God intimately because of His ultimate expression of love through His Son, Jesus Christ.

Whether we walk through trials, which we all will, or whether things are coasting along seemingly, God will always get the glory from our family.

Always.

Anyway, what I was saying is God's got this...and my mom is doing well. I'll update later.

Boobies

2011-08-23T13:39:00.003-06:00

I have to say, it is so very refreshing to be in a setting where, what was once private and hush hush, can be spoken of with earnestness, sincerity, and candid authenticity. (I know that is quite a list of words but Em and I have been reading the original Nancy Drew books, and boy does Keene use great vocabulary!)

Anyway, cancer is a big word. It's really a new journey for our family, and as I walk along this road with my mom, I am a student in this new topic. Em knows a lot about death and heaven because she lost her brother. But she and I don't know a lot about cancer except that it's not our favorite word...and it's something my mom has. I want to be sensitive not to teach Em all the cellular dynamics of cancer at the age of 9, but to allow her to ask questions and hold her grandma's hand when she needs assurance, I feel is of utmost importance.

So, today, after I tied on my pink ribbon belt, slipped on my hot pink swirl half-dome ring that's as big as a bouncy ball, and stepped into my pink cancer awareness flip-flops, I hopped into my car donning breast cancer plates and drove over to Emily's school to snatch her away for a couple of hours. You see, seeing her "Bebe" in a hospital bed with tubes taped onto her and machines all around may be too overwhelming...but...to go to her "Bebe's" wig fitting appointment, letting her try on a few, and seeing what her grandma will look like in a couple of months, well, I thought that would be a great way for Em to be connected on this journey.

The women who helped us were beautiful. Both survivors, even. One, seven years ago, had the EXACT kind of cancer, same stage, same invasiveness, same factors and treatment, as my mom. My mom had been specifically praying to be able to speak with a woman who had all of those things and God provided her, today, in that room where we were able to speak candidly about boobies and baldness.

No one really wants to suffer and then have another person suffer through it, too. But to be able to share our stories and say, "Me, too!" is a powerful thing. It allows us to know that we aren't alone, that God provides comfort and companionship even in the midst of our darkest moments. No matter how hard Satan tries to tear us down, God is always faithful to be our Rock, our Steady, our never-changing King of Peace. God is good!

Yer purdy...

2011-08-19T10:37:00.003-06:00

Last night as we were winding down, Jason on the couch, me tidying up a few things in the kitchen, getting my glass of water for bed, I asked Jason a simple question.

Me: "Did you think I looked pretty today?"
Jason: "Of course!"
Me: "Well, why didn't you say so?"
Jason: "You look beautiful everyday..."

Now, of course that is the right answer, but really?!

Me, snarkly-like: "Oh, then I guess you don't have to tell me ever again..."

Yes, we both just smiled.

I know it sounds like I was fishing, but PEOPLE, I had taken a shower! I mean, it's not that rare, but as a busy mom, let's all just be honest here...showers may happen every day or every other day, but actually washing and blowing dry my hair, well, that happens maybe twice a week, if I'm lucky!

Husbands, take notice!

I already felt pretty yesterday and didn't need Jason to say so. I had spent a lot of time reading God's word and felt very refreshed, beautiful on the inside because God had said so...I also just happened to have a skirt on, which never happens, so, you'd think your hubby might notice...wink, wink.

Anyway, from my post yesterday or the day before about the Proverbs 31 woman, I'm inspired to try an experiment. First of all, let me just say I don't ask Jason if he thinks I'm pretty all the time. Remember, he said I'm beautiful everyday. Ahem.

But, my experiment is this: I'm not going to shower or wash my hair ever again. And let me tell you, it's gonna get stinky! I'm going to have me some very hairy legs and my hair, well, it'll look like I stuck my head in a deep fryer. So, add to the lack of hygiene more time reading God's word, praying and sitting at His feet, and I suspect Jason will be simply overcome by my appearance.

Okay, so, I'm totally kidding! Ewwwwww!

The point is this, ladies, our beauty is on the inside when our hearts are before the Lord. Here's a quote from my jewelry blog:

"We truly believe that every woman's heart was designed to be beautiful. What we wear on the inside will always be seen by the discerning eye. What we wear on the outside is simply a reflection of our tastes and who we are...it will never take the place of our inner beauty...beauty that will last us a lifetime."

And all you guys out there, even if you think your lady is beautiful every day, tell her what you think...she's not a mind reader.

And, if she's not pretty, if her heart is dark and broken, sad, distraught and in despair, if she's angry and unkind, well, start filling her heart with Truth. Fill it a little bit at a time. Encourage her in God's word...it may be a slow process but God is bigger. He works miracles all the time.

And one day, when she walks in the door, you won't be overcome by her appearance, you'll be taken aback by her beauty.

What's in your man-cave?

2011-08-18T10:23:00.004-06:00

So, I was reading Proverbs 31 for the millionth time the other day. I have a lot of thoughts on this wife and mom, but for this particular post, I will share what stood out on that day. First, here are the scriptures:

" 10A wife of noble character, who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. 11Her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value. 12She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life." Proverbs 31:10-12

Verse 11 is where I started jotting things down. The word "lacks" first jumped out at me. Followed by "value." I have a good friend that is a professional organizer. She has worked some modern day miracles in peoples lives, helping them purge and reorganize. She's even worked with big time hoarders. If I were to guess here, she helps clients determine what is of value to them, and then, with those things the client deems valuable, she helps put them in places where they are easily accessible. The things they are able to get rid of, those things that are simply taking up space, or lack value, they either donate or throw away.

It's all about creating margin. Space. Not only in their physical homes but in their hearts and minds. Less is more.

Now, in all fairness, if you dropped by my casa right now you'd witness my organized chaos and want to call my friend the organizer to tattle on me. Don't worry, she's knows :)

But that's not what I'm talking about here...

I looked up the definition of value. It talks of worth, both "material value" and "human value."

Which one is verse 11 addressing?

It's not difficult to realize that in light of eternity, the obvious answer is the eternal, Godly value of life and love. But the problem is, in America the land of excess, I think there is a big blur between our material and human values. I don't think it. It's rather obvious.

Do our husbands feel loved and have full confidence in us because their garages are chock full of man toys and their basements pimped to resemble something of an IMAX theatre? No. I mean, hopefully not. Hopefully if those things were swept away in an instant, you two would still have a foundation. (I'm not judging you if you have a lot of toys or a home theater. That's not the point.)

The point is, if two people without earthly possessions can fall in love and stay in love, isn't that man's life full? He lacks nothing because he has what is truly valuable. He has love. He has relationship. He has trust.

On earth, we can get caught up in a rat race of the realization that there will always be someone else out there with more stuff than us. Filling our lives with more stuff won't give us more value. Heck, even if you had an expensive house and genuine diamonds, were in all the right social circles and had loads of finances in the bank...if your heart was empty, your family distant, and your marriage a shell, compared to one of Jason's (my husband) moms in Bolivia whose home is made of mud and wardrobe made up of two articles, but she has food on her table and beautiful children laughing and running around, well, it's not hard to see which husband has value and which one is trying to fill his life with meaning.

Having lost a child it's not difficult for Jason or me to not attach heartstrings or value to things.

Life is short. People are God's very creation, an expression of Himself to share His love with the world.

And as moms, our children are only with us for a short time. That time is valuable. And, their lives are priceless. I guarantee that if you give your kid a hug and kiss and tell them how very special they are to you, they will feel so much more valued than if their toy box is full and they wear the latest fashions.

I know I have a lot of margin to create in my home. I have a list of projects that include purging, cleaning, donating and organizing. But when Jason comes home from his blessing of a job, arriving in his paid for car, to our beautiful house, he doesn't hug the wall and kiss the television and the Blue Ray. Instead, he puts his computer bag down, tries to calm the spastic dog, crosses the kitchen to give me a kiss and then embraces and loves on his sweet kids that he hasn't seen in hours.

More summertime fun!

2011-08-15T07:57:00.001-06:00

Here's a pic of Ryan sporting Em's backwoods redneck teeth as he crawled around in his cute military style crawl:

Em actually wore this set of teeth to the dentist recently...the dentist screamed and then couldn't stop laughing! My kid is quite the prankster.

*I actually didn't realize Ry had a prune mustache until I just posted this. This is because I don't usually clean off his face after he eats...because I think he's a cute dirty little boy.
Here are some pics from our summer adventures:

Em and her two BFF's camping in the family room

Em requested dirt dessert. I know for a fact I left something out, but when you crush up Oreo's and put worms and flowers on top, no one really notices.

Em and her birthday guests

A picture of Em after completing her first kids triathlon. She was exhausted but wants to sign up again for next year. Any of your kids want to join her?

Here we are visiting my Gramps in the hospital when he had pneumonia. My gramps is doing great now, fyi. And, a side note, he and Ryan are 93 years apart.

We got dressed up and went out to celebrate Noah's 5th birthday. Inquiries: Em's wearing a recycled Sari. Ryan is actually wearing a recycled Noah shirt, so I'm grateful it finally was worn!!!

Me and the best little mid-life crisis Eh-Ver!

Ryan's first trip to the Denver Zoo. He loved it! He also fell asleep. Notice the delicious chubby wrists on this guy! Arghhhhh!

Em and her favorite babysitter in the whole wide world, who is actually on the other side of the whole wide world in Africa presently, doing relief work. We love you, Miss Claire! Thanks for the piggyback ride!

Em and I bought some feathers off the Internet to put in our hair...do you think I overdid it?
*For some reason, in the 60's, I believe, women wore these feather wigs while they were lounging by the pool, sunbathing. It was my Grandma's wig. Em's feathers actually turned out great!

Some summertime fun!

2011-08-12T07:34:00.004-06:00

I know it's been a long time since I've posted pictures or even shown that our lives are also fun amidst tough stuff. We had a wonderful summer visiting family and friends in South Dakota and Minneapolis. We laughed a lot this summer. We relaxed, breathed, and just simply enjoyed.

I honestly can't imagine my life at this point without Ryan in it. He brings me so much joy! He's an easy going kid and brings a lot of laughter into our home.

This summer he got to hang out with his younger cousin quite a bit. The pictures below show our ad-lib version of kiddie pools at Nana's house.

Nothin' like a buck nudey baby! So squeezy!!!

Love this aerial shot of the cousins in their "tubs"

The "C" Word

2011-08-11T10:42:00.004-06:00

Cancer is like saying #$%^&*. It's got six letters but it's a four-letter word.

I've never liked the word cancer.

Merriam Webster defines it four ways:

a northern zodiacal constellation between Gemini and Leo
a malignant tumor of potentially unlimited growth that expands locally by invasion and systemically by metastasis; an abnormal bodily state marked by such tumors
something evil or malignant that spreads destructively
an enlarged tumor-like plant growth

I guess I don't mind looking at constellations in God's big beautiful sky, but seeing a malignant tumor on an MRI, and that tumor belonging to my very own mom, well, that just sucks, to be frank.

I went to my mom's appointment yesterday along with my dad and younger sister. I choked back some tears here and there as I watched my mom be so very brave. I mean, my mom was like, "I'm not scared. I trust God. I trust Him when things are good and even now. I trust Him."

I sat there next to my dad who has always been so in love with my mom, knowing this is his journey, too. I thanked God in my heart for parents who still enjoy being together, thankful for their loving example of marriage for my own life, so very thankful God opened a door for them to live so close to us.

So many things were running through my thoughts in that office suite dedicated to education and treatment of this "new to me" disease. We all listened to one pretty amazing doctor share knowledge and courses of treatment, maybe not realizing she was now part of our journey. Of course the "Noah" mom came to the forefront of my mind...wanting to fix it...wanting to conquer the world and find a cure for all cancers, but especially breast cancer because it's front and center in my world. But, as much as I am on this journey with my mom, this is her journey. And she's one pretty amazing woman, so I know she's got it...because she knows The One who has got it!

In 7th grade a nurse came to educate us girls about self-breast examination. I freaked. Not because I thought it was silly to talk about touching my boobies. Something in me was gripped with fear and I was sure I would die of breast cancer before I even left high school. I even had my mom take me to the doctor because I had lumpy breasts. The doc said, "Do you eat chocolate?" Of course my reply was an emphatic yes! She asked, "Do you drink caffeine?" Hello! I'm in junior high! Coca-Cola and Dr. Pepper were my BFF's next to Stacey, of course! She said that caffeine increases fibroid tissue in the breast and can cause pain and discomfort. I stopped drinking pop. I didn't drink it again until my freshman year of college...which accounted for my 15 extra pounds at the time. I gave it up again. Water is my favorite, anyway...

I don't fear death anymore thanks to God's grace in allowing me to be mommy to a sweet little boy whose name meant "Peace." And, I don't fear breast cancer. I don't fear. What the heck is the point of fearing?! It steals joy and hope. Walking through this with my mom, even from the first call she got, watching her trust in God, and her peace, there's just no room for fear.

Cancer is a four-letter word, but having met it, I know now it can be beat!

It's not going to be a cake walk. There will be surgery. There will be chemo. And, since I'm not having either of those aforementioned, there will be a boat load of walking on my part. I haven't picked the city or the date, but this time I'll probably do the 60 mile walk. And yes, if you are interested, I'll be forming a team...

As a daughter of a woman with breast cancer, I know I can't fix it. I've learned that from experience. I can definitely be a support and encouragement. I can do practical things like make meals and help care for my mom over the next 9 months or so. But there is other stuff I can do, and I know it will not only help my mom, but help my generation and Emily's generation to come.

No. Breast cancer isn't my "new" platform. I've championed for it, or rather against it, in the past...simply because I have boobs. Yes, you will hear more about it here in days to come. But I'm still passionate about loving women, encouraging women, and telling them about God's AMAZING LOVE for them...this isn't new, either is God's love or my passion to tell it.

It's just that breast cancer has helped re-light a fire under me that had nearly died out.

What's your point?!?!

2011-08-10T14:08:00.001-06:00

Not trying to shock you, but here is a bumper sticker I had to sit behind in traffic recently. It read, "I piss excellence."

Really? That's fabulous?????? Congratulations?! What does that even MEAN, you numb skull?!

Oh. My. Word. Seriously? Can we just talk about what messages we are trying to get across here?!

I am specifically talking about bumper stickers and other images and messages displayed on the backsides of our vehicles.

Personally, I am not a fan of bumper stickers, although, for the most part, I do read them as I drive on my way. I don't judge you if you choose to put them on your car, it's just that my husband and I decided long ago not to put stickers on our vehicles. It's not a big deal. We have lots of opinions and thoughts on life. We support and love many different organizations. We just don't do bumper stickers. That's all.

Let's review some though, shall we?

There's the parent who has to point out that their kid is smarter than yours. Just because someone has a "My kid made the honor roll" sign on their car doesn't mean your kid is an idiot. They are proud parents, that's all...and no, your dog isn't smarter than their kid, either.

Or that ridiculous and crude kid that has his pants down and is urinating on whatever it is the driver wants to belittle. Chevy and Ford should just be friends, already!

Here's my favorite...the guy in the big beefy truck that has dark tinted windows, meaty tires with girly flaps and a pair of blue balls hanging from the hitch. REALLY?! You are admitting to the world that your truck is making up for your lack of intimacy?!?!

Or, "Silly boys! Trucks are for girls!" I love to drive trucks, I have to say, but they aren't gender specific. They are trucks. They are for boys and girls. Trucks are gender neutral...

I actually like the family stickers. You've usually got a dad figure, a mom, a couple kids or more, even a cat and dog. And, if your family was lucky enough, your family figures have big mouse ears on them...or, if you are outdoorsy, your family is made up of sea turtles...which means you were probably lucky enough to buy them in Hawaii.

I personally am not quite sure what the "I piss excellence" bumper sticker is all about. All I know is that it's crude and not the kind of bumper sticker I would ever choose. But I guess it stuck with me...so very glad that guy got his message across...(kick him in the shin!)

If there was room on the back of my car to get a message across worth the adhesive it would say, "Hey, whether you believe it or not, God is totally, completely, madly in love with you! Yep! He loves you exactly the way you are, sitting there in your car, singing, smoking, picking your nose, yelling at your kids in the back seat, whatever. He even loves you as you are tailgating me to read this bumper sticker. And, since the beginning of time a lot has happened. He's been misrepresented, even gotten a bad wrap. Maybe you could care less, but here's the deal, whether you like Him or not, you will meet Him face to face one day. On that day He'll tell you how much He loves you...like He's been telling you all along. He'll remind you that He sent His Son to die on a cross for you because you were worth it. You can wait until that day to meet Him, but living life here on earth with Him in your heart is better than chocolate or Monday Night Football! Life won't necessarily be smooth, you may experience heartache and pain, your kid might not make the honor roll, you may not even pee straight, but God's totally and completely in love with you and would love to have a personal relationship with you today."

I know that bumper stickers or symbols on our cars are an expression of who we are or what we believe and support. Some are encouraging and thought provoking...others just funny, while others, as you've witnessed above, plain old ignorant.

Since the back of my Honda Accord just isn't big enough to display my sentiments, I won't be having this particular bumper sticker made up.

However, when I went to renew my tags the other day, something occurred to me. I can work the "no bumper sticker" rule with personalized plates. I can get another message across. It's a message of support and something I've championed in the past. It's a message that wasn't close to home. Now it's a message that is front and tail end on my car.

I bought pink license plates.

I know that in buying "Breast Cancer Awareness" plates I won't beat the disease, but, as the daughter of a beautiful woman who was just diagnosed last week with it, I will do whatever it takes to show my mom my full support.

I love my mom. She is my spiritual GIANT. She probably is smarter than your honor student, but if she had a bumper sticker, even in light of her recent diagnosis, it would read like the one above, "God is Faithful! I trust in Him! And He is Good!"

More to come...

Call a plumber!!!!!

2011-08-09T21:44:00.002-06:00

I was talking with a friend recently, the kind that, even though we don't get to do daily life together as we had in the past, we just pick up where we left off. I hope you have those kinds of friendships, too, where the love runs deep and there isn't performance pressure. Anyway, we caught up on day to day life and then dug deeper finding out how siblings and parents were fairing. And not just for knowledge sake. We dug deeper because we knew in sharing that prayers would be said for our loved ones.

My heart got sick when my friend shared about a sibling of hers...how this particular sibling who had considered himself a Christian the majority of his life was now disenchanted not only with American Christianity, but even Jesus.

Jesus?

Really?!

SERIOUSLY?! Jesus?????

I get the part about American Christianity/Religion...but Jesus?!

Huh.

Makes me want to cut off that siblings ear. Not because I think that sibling sucks or even that Jesus needs defending. He's a Big Boy. He can handle people, His people, His beloved, wrestling with Him. I just think it's a total load of crap, a complete cop-out, a lazy-pursuit or lack thereof, to throw away Jesus with the bathwater just because the world is filled with really flaky people called humans who hurt other peoples feelings and misrepresent God on a daily basis.

I hurt people's feelings and make mistakes and misrepresent God all the time...I'm not boasting. I'm not proud of it. But God doesn't tuck nicely into a little box, building or religious set of rules. I don't mean to hurt others. I really am sorry!

But, BUT, BUT...that doesn't change God's character or His love for us. Our flakiness doesn't change God at all. Just because I am a jerk doesn't mean God is. God has always been the same, He has never changed. God is love. He is love. He is the very definition.

But I do share the depth of heart, love, and intimacy for Christ that the disciple who did the ear cutting did. Plus, I have 2000 years of experiential learning on that guy. Not that I'm that old, of course, sheesh, I'm only pushing 40, but countless stories of life transformation have occurred between today and that ear-cutting. I have gotten to actually read and re-read the part where Jesus said, "No more of this!" and then reached out and healed the man's ear. The very man who was just doing the grunt work of his "higher ups." He had no clue Who he was seizing...and the ear-cutter, well, he was just really zealous. I mean, who wouldn't be if your bff was Jesus?!

No, the ear-cutting disciple couldn't hear The Message or read the NIV translation. He was there, in the moment breathing the same O2 as Jesus, and the thought of his Innocent Friend being seized for ridiculous political and religious reasons was absurd enough for him to do some ear-chopping, though I'm sure he meant to do a bit more damage than that.

I don't REALLY want to cut off my friend's brother's ear. Rather, I'd love to turn it back to God's Spirit, turn it back to what he knew, or even turn his ears toward Jesus alone, without the pomp and pageantry, without all the gray noise...Just Jesus. Maybe the Jesus he never had the chance to know amidst the crisp, clean rules and regulations of religiosity, aka, modern Pharisee.

We all have stories. Some could say that they gave up on the Church because they were abused emotionally, physically, sexually or another way by a trusted leader, even a parent. Others could say they gave up on the Church because they were abused financially or theologically. Your story might be that you experienced significant loss, illness, need, or were simply seeking friendship or comfort and encouragement and the Church totally dropped the ball in your darkest hour and those you found faithful were work companions, neighbors, and the atheists on the corner.

I understand the disappointment. I honestly do. I've faced more on this earth than I ever wanted to...and it's all since meeting Jesus. But I wouldn't change it...

Here's a snippet of my colorful church experience: I grew up in the Catholic church until I was confirmed at the end of 9th grade. I learned as a child that God loves me and that Jesus died for me. I found out years later that one of the priests was friendly with some of the altar boys. Do I hate Catholics? No. From there, my family went to a little church, non-denominational, where we continued to learn more about God's love for us but began actually reading the Bible ourselves. We then moved for a job and later found out that the pastor and the church secretary at our old church (where we first fell in love with God's word) were having sex up on the altar while just next door they ran a school, where my sister attended. Do I hate church secretaries? No. For a year we visited several different churches, then moved back to our old city where we found a new church. This one was bonus, man. It all seemed to start out just fine, nicely balanced, but it was the late 80's, early 90's and it was Scottsdale, so money was muy importante. (That's Spanish for a big deal.) And, if it helps you understand the scene and why some have sought "spirituality" elsewhere, well, Katy Perry, as a little kid, and her family were very much involved in my church. *(I know, right?! I could have chucked the whole scene and been a millionaire singer...except I can't sing...)

Anyway, long story short, I headed off to college before it got ugly, but my folks were asked to leave the church because they didn't want to support the "financial" pursuit the pastor and another guy had for the congregation. Let's just say Uncle Sam didn't appreciate the financial pursuit of the church, either, and one guy did some time for robbing widows and orphans, and other people. Do I hate money, or even "offering" time? No. Fast forward... after I had served at a church for 2.5 years as head of their women's ministry, Noah was born and got sick. During his 5.5 month stay at the hospital, a couple of staff from that church visited the first week. We heard from the pastor via letter after Noah died. I never knew anyone from that church, besides personal friends, were standing by us during that time in our lives until a few of them showed up at Noah's funeral. A funeral at a different church that did step in and support us. Do I hate that other church's guts? No...but I don't go there anymore.

I forgive. I don't carry offense. I move on. I walk away. Because early on, in college, actually, during a mandatory "revival" I sat down and had a heart to heart with God. I cried out, "God, please help me to know You in spite of all this. I KNOW You are true! Please help me remember what You want me to remember and forget the rest!"

It hasn't been perfect. It hasn't been smooth. But throwing Jesus out with the bathwater...I'd venture to say that those who can easily do that never actually encountered the personal, redeeming Christ...or were never told it was okay to wrestle with Him, to confess disappointment, disenchantment.

No, I'm pretty sure they only met His flaky followers. And that really stinks, because one, there will always be flaky followers, and TWO, Jesus is the Surest thing in the Universe...the biggest un-flake that ever existed!

I have more thoughts on this, as well as some opinions on faith and "East meets West" but this is already a novel...so, until next time...

What's your point?!

2011-08-08T11:29:00.008-06:00

66.

2011-08-01T11:34:00.004-06:00

The other day after service, we went to get Em from kid's church. A leader said, lightheartedly (not any other way), "Your kid didn't know the first 5 books of the Bible...I was surprised...I mean, she's your kid." I answered, without a beat, and not in defense, by any means, "I'm not really concerned that she have the books of the Bible memorized...I want her to know its content and message. She's had two different kids' Bibles read to her over 15 times in 9 years, I'm pretty sure that's more important."

As Jason, Em, Ry and I walked toward the car, I said, "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy...wait, Deuteronomy then Numbers...no, that was right..." (And I was a Theology major.)

Jason said, "That's what a Table of Contents is for..."

Em chimed in, "Exactly!"

I know the leader wasn't being legalistic. That's not the kind of church we attend. However, could it be that one of the many reasons people stray away from God at an age of reason or when disaster, tragedy, complacency, or life strikes is because their foundation is only knowing the song, "Jesus loves me" or having all the books of the Bible memorized?

There's more to God than rote religious recollection.

He's intimate.

He's the Main Character of a True Story.

He's a really big deal!

Honestly, to be quite un-Christian, who gives a rip if you have all the books memorized? That is, if you don't know what the heck they convey!!!!!

66 chapters.

Do you have all the chapter titles of your most recent novel memorized? If you did, we'd all think you were weird. What we would want to know is how you liked the book? Was it good? What was your favorite part? What was it that kept you reading? Did it evoke emotion? Could you identify with any of the characters? Was it profound? Would you recommend it to your friends or even suggest it for your next month's book club? Is it one you would want to read again, maybe even three times?

Since Em was a baby I have read the Bible to her while she ate. It's almost like Pavlov's dog...she wants food and Food when she's hungry. Her "Beginner's Bible" we got through probably 10 times, to be conservative. In the last 3 years we've read "The Picture Bible" 5 times through. Last year in homeschool Em read me her "Beginner's Bible" from beginning to end. There have been a few other versions here and there that she and I have read excerpts from, but the point is, my 9 year old knows the message and the content of God's heart, relayed through scripture, keen observation and the lives of loving people around her on a daily basis.

I'm not boasting that my kid is smarter than yours...believe me, "bumper stickers" is a post for another day...what I am saying is that content is more important than a chapter title...and, if you were to ask Emily to recall a story from the Bible, she would do it with comprehension and heart.

And, what if you grew up in a church or even outside the church, where the message you have memorized is that God is a big, mean God...He's out to get you...He's keeping track of all your "rights" and "wrongs" and is gonna get you if you aren't a good kid?!

If those are the messages going through your head and heart, and you and I had a chance to sit down, heart to heart over a cup of coffee or a margarita, I most certainly wouldn't use that time to try to drill the names of 66 chapters into your life.

I'd cherish that opportunity to tell you that I actually know the Author of those chapters. He's Amazing. Forgiving. Gracious. And Big enough to handle all the crap of the whole entire world...and He's totally in love with you, no if's, and's or but's...and no strings attached.

Just Love. Free and Pure.

I'M BACK, BABY! I'M BACK!

2011-07-30T13:02:00.005-06:00

And by, "I'm back!" maybe what I mean is, "I'm gone!" And thank God for that!

Can you even imagine, after losing your child, allowing yourself to go to a place of complacency?

Yeah, well, I can. Because sometimes it's okay to find comfort in the ordinary...

At first I never thought I could, but being strong 24/7 isn't necessarily how I was Creatively designed.

I was meant to l e a n. We were all meant to l e a n.

I mean, I know that, but after Noah died, I was at my boldest. I was going to conquer the world, right? Never take one day for granted...live life to the fullest...take life by the horns...

Exhausting. That's what it is! And I crashed. And I burned.

(Insert high pitched jet engine sound careening toward earth at mega-speed, crashing, burning, explosives, lots of dust...shrapnel, etc.)

While I was down I was kicked, even spat on, but, baby, I'm back!

I'm picking myself up.

I'm wiping off the dust.

What was it that gave my toosh the extra push over the fence of complacency?

I can't tell you right now. I will tell you, but I am not quite ready...

What I will tell you is BOLD ain't seen nothing yet! I am SO not concerned with any one's opinion of me or how I conduct my life...I will continue to walk up to strangers and ask them their story. I will continue to tell people about God's amazing love for them whether they believe it or not...because it's true, whether anyone believes it! I am not concerned about being politically or religiously correct. I will write whatever the heck my heart tells me to write here. I will laugh. I will cry. I will stop. I will listen. I will fight!

And guess what else? I'm going to be doing a whole lotta walking. Walking for a reason. Walking for love and raising awareness. And heck, my legs might just get in shape in the meantime!

Life is short.

It's meant to be lived here on earth fully and with a purpose, with love and the people we love.

It's more than okay to rest, but resting places are for a time, and baby, I'm done relaxing!

I'm off the fence.

And baby, I'm on the road to kicking some serious ass!

It's good to be back!

Remembering...

2011-07-26T20:49:00.004-06:00

Today marked the beginning of several ponytail donations to Locks of Love in memory of a hero.

The ponytails came off in Dallas...they had been grown by two beautiful women, sisters, Faryn Clark and Elisa Masso. The girls grew their hair out for the last year in memory of someone they never even knew...someone I'm not sure they met, and if they did, they were 13 and 6 years old at the time, way back when I was their nanny. They grew out their hair to help little kids with cancer...in the practical sense. They grew it out because I threw out the idea a year ago to see if anyone wanted to do it along with me. They donated 10+ inches of hair because they, too, understand the depth of what a simple gesture can mean. Along with their siblings, Faryn and Elisa lost their father 4.5 years ago, and they know what it is like to miss him every. single. day. Because, even though they have never met Ryan's wife Shannon or their sons, they know what it means to lose a dad, and their gesture is an outward expression of their hearts crying out, "Hey! Even though our dad is gone, he was real! He'll always be important! And we miss him all the time!"

Their perspective has changed...they know that hair is just hair, that their hair in Heaven will probably be remarkable, and donating here on Earth so a little kid can smile confidently in the mirror is worth the sacrifice. And they did it in memory and honor of a real, true man...a hero who died saving another man's life. That man was many things, including a husband, a father, a son, brother, grandson, uncle, nephew, cousin, friend, peer...his name was Ryan Arnold.

I don't know what it is like to lose my dad. He's still going strong, thankfully. I don't know what it's like to lose my husband and best friend. But I have experienced loss...the loss of a man who taught me a lot about life and love, my father-in-law, Steve Graves. And, the loss of a son who never spoke a word in 7 months but whose life still teaches me lessons along the way.

And I lost a friend, one of my husband's best friends, the day that Ryan Arnold passed away. In the moments before Ryan died, Jason and I sat in the hallway outside his hospital room. I was pregnant and we knew it was a boy, but this little sweet life in me still didn't have a name...I said to Jason, "If it won't upset Shannon, I'd like our baby's name to be Ryan..." Through tears, as Jason held my hand and deeply grieved saying goodbye to his friend, he said, "I already decided that is his name..."

Cutting my ponytail off this coming Saturday along with Janelle Zander, Ryan's sister, Dana Feeney, my little sister, Emily, my kiddo, and three other beautiful women who never got the chance to meet Ryan Arnold, Jenifer Prosser, Erin Ferris, and Catherine Thomas, is only a gesture. It doesn't even begin to express my heart in how every. single. day. looking at our 11 month old baby boy named Ryan, we think of Ryan and thank God we knew him as long as we did. We pray for Shannon and her boys. We pray for Ryan's parents and brothers and sister and their families...we remember.

Death isn't something with which any of us should become comfortable or callus. We weren't meant for it in God's original design. But it is the reality for each one of us. It is the one thing on Earth that we all have in common...none of us will escape it. The timing isn't up to us, but how we walk through it as survivors is. Some people are so overcome they just don't know what to say. Don't sweat it. There is NOTHING another person can say to bring a loved one back. It isn't our responsibility as support to try to fix it. But in my experience, letting a survivor know that the one they loved is still thought of, still missed, still brings memories to you heart...this is priceless...this means so very much.

As I near 40, I've decided to embrace my natural self...the one with naturally curly hair. I'm not saying it's going to be pretty on Saturday when I embrace my short fro, but, it's just an outward expression of what my heart thinks of every day.

And what does a ponytail have to do with the life of Dr. Ryan Arnold? Nothing, really, I guess. He didn't have long hair, though he had a sweet mullet when I met him. But Ryan was a selfless man and gave of what he had and of who he was. This weekend at Tonto salon where we are donating, the stylists are giving us cuts for free since we are donating to Locks of Love. In lieu of payment we are collecting donations to raise awareness for organ donation. We will also be encouraging patrons to become organ donors on their drivers' licenses.

So, you may not have a ponytail to donate, but I would encourage you...if there is someone in your life that has experienced loss, don't shy away. Don't NOT say anything. You don't even have to have known the person they loved and lost...just let them know you care about them, about their heart, and are thinking of them. It will mean more than you could ever know.

"I do."

2011-06-28T15:55:00.004-06:00

Jason and I got married June 26th, 1993, in Scottsdale, Arizona, on what was on record the hottest day of that year...a whopping 122 degrees.

(Jason gave our scanner away, but I promise I'll scan a few pics! I mean, who doesn't want a good laugh?! It was the '90's, okay! Poofy was cool...)

Anyway, yes, the temps felt as though we were teetering on the edge of earth and hell, but the day, the people, the occasion and memories teetered on heaven in my book.

I was 21 and a half (can you hear a 5 year old saying that? "I'm 5 and a HALF") and had no clue what I was doing except that I knew I was in love. I knew it was with Jason. I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him and I had no idea what that all meant or what it would look like but with God as our anchor, I wasn't really worried...nor am I still.

But, even though I was still in college and thought it was strange that our parents were letting us board a plane to Maui all by ourselves like grown-ups doesn't mean I didn't take the "I do" seriously.

I meant it.

I still mean it.

You know, Paul in the Bible talks about when you suffer in your body, you are done with sin. I've never broken a bone, oh, I've been sick here and there, but losing my father-in-law and son was the suffering Paul spoke of for me, at least. I loved him, too, but seeing my amazing mother-in-law without her very best friend broke my heart...still does. Standing with my husband as he grieved his dad and friend was a lot for a young wife to process. Loving and losing Noah taught me to hold on a little tighter to Jason while at the same time, holding him loosely with all my trust placed in the God of the Universe. It taught me to try to love Jason the way God intended him to be loved. It has helped me blow off the little things and cherish what really matters. It reinforced my "I do." Unfortunately I'm not "done with sin" but my eternal perspective has certainly changed my here and now perspective and what is important...and I believe that is time spent with people, the very ones God created and has brought into our lives.

People congratulated us recently for sticking to it for 18 years. I didn't know not sticking to it was an option. The "D" word has never been part of our vocabulary...even our unspoken mental vocabulary. Jason's parents were in super duper love until the day his dad, Steve, died a little over 13 years ago. My parents are still in super duper love today. Neither of our parents had perfect marriages, and ours isn't either, but something about the two of us together just works. We had good examples. And we've made up a lot of it as we've gone along, too.

Maybe it's that we both give and take?
Maybe it's because we have both always said "sorry?"
Maybe it's that we don't sleep with other people beside each other?
Maybe it's because we are best friends, and are that first and foremost?
Maybe it's a result of the five-course meals I make up every night while sporting an apron, a double strand of pearls with a vintage brooch from bebe&boo, and nursing a glass of wine? Oh, and the foot rub Jason gets when he walks in the door...

You can see from the expression on Jason's face below that the previous statement must be the real reason we've lasted this long...

But really...

We aren't perfect. We've had our share of coasting, surviving, and even barely breathing...but one thing I know is that I'd rather coast, survive and barely breathe with him.

And when communication is low, we have to try...
And when life is too busy, we have to slow down...
And when our hearts get calloused, it hurts but it's necessary to get out the sander or even the knife and start cutting away at the build up of keeping offenses, replaying past hurts, and unforgiveness...

And, whether we think we need it or not, and whether we have cash or not, good marriages need dates...healthy marriages need time away from kids, if applicable...and that's just what we did, thanks to my folks who took the kiddos overnight.

We went downtown and had a wonderful stay-cation. A few months back I resigned from being the women's pastor at our church. As a big, fat, thankful "thank you" our awesome church gave me a very generous gift certificate to a swanky boutique hotel, Hotel Teatro, and to our very favorite restaurant, Vesta Dipping Grill, where we have spent 5 or 6 of our last 9 anniversaries.

Randomly painted pianos were placed along the 16th Street Mall, so Jason plunked out a few tunes he recalled from elementary school days...

And ladies, or even guys, if your spouse is a techy like mine, and is on the computer or fancy phone more often than not, it's absolutely okay to say, "Hey, Sweetheart, on this our 18th anniversary weekend, will you please kick your mistress the iPhone to the curb? I don't need to tell you I'm a heck of a lot more fun than your phone!"

We shared our Vesta night with our old roommates, Drew and Gina, who were also celebrating their anniversary. We've got 15 years on them, and we've taught them everything we know...so, you know that the reason their marriage rocks is because of point number 5 above!

Anyway, random post, but was pondering how grateful I am for one day at a time with Jason, and so thankful those 6577 days have added up to 18 years. I do not take them for granted.

5 whole years!

2011-06-10T11:33:00.002-06:00

Wow!

A lot has transpired over the last 5 years...

Love.

Elation.

Roller coaster emotions.

Hope.

Trust.

Faith.

Heartache.

Disappointment.

Fear.

Loss.

Peace.

Dying to self.

Doors closed.

New beginnings.

Bitter memories.

Sweet memories.

Eyes opened.

Hope renewed.

Trust still firm.

Faith still boundless.

And a whole lot of love.

In a million years I never imagined that so much life would transpire in just 5 years. When I was in 8th grade I was concerned about 8th grade things: bad hair days, junk food and dumb boys. Five years later while I was a freshman in college I was concerned with freshman things: bad hair days, junk food and dumb boys. :) By five years after I was a freshman in college, I was married, had a job, had moved across the country, was paying bills, making new life long friends, traveling around the world with my husband and sharing God's love with people...my life, perspective and purpose had changed significantly.

In a million years I never would have imagined that five years after giving birth to a baby boy who quite literally melted every part of my heart, that on his big boy 5th birthday he wouldn't be in attendance to his very own celebration.

I cannot believe I actually got to have him in my life for 7 whole months! A lot of mommies and daddies don't have that much time with their kids. I am so very grateful that I was able to enjoy those 7 months with Noah. Looking back, and even while I was in the midst of it, I don't care where that time was spent...all I am thankful for is the fact that I had a son. His name was Noah. He would have been 5 today. And I am richer for knowing him.

Mama loves you bigger than the universe, sweet guy of mine. Always and forever.
Mommy
xoxox

Prunes, prunes, the musical fruit!

2011-06-06T21:16:00.004-06:00

I should not have gone out in public today.

I mean, I haven't been out in days because I've had strep and Em has it now, so we haven't been many places other than the couch, her bedroom and the kitchen.

But, since I had showered yesterday and actually washed my hair, I thought, "Heck, I'll get dressed two days in a row. It's not a crime!" Plus, a friend was coming over for a visit, so I thought she deserved more than just me brushing my teeth.

So, I put on my one pair of shorts that I own. They are my favorite. Obviously, because they are literally my only pair of shorts.

I put on my daily wife beater tank top, today's hue: gray.

And then, since my favorite only shorts are plaid Roxy shorts with navy, I decided, "What the heck?! Why not throw on my favorite navy cardigan since it's cold in the mornings?"

And so I did.

Did I mention I haven't sanded my feet or changed my toe polish in a month-ish? But I did shave yesterday, so that's somethin'. That is, I shaved my pasty white legs that no longer have the lingering effects of my days on the beach in Mexico way back in February. That is, I shaved my white legs that now unabashedly boast bulging blue veins thanks to 3 full-term pregnancies. Love you kids!

So, as I was saying, I went out in public today.

I had to run to the post office as soon as Jason came in the door from work. I didn't look in the mirror or even glance down at myself. I just grabbed my package and hopped in the car.

And as I left the P.O. I saw my toes...but before my eyes found my toes, they found my left boob...I had a small, 9 month old sized paw print made from prunes on it.

Of course it did. My boobs are often covered in fruits and veggies. Aren't yours?

And, since I carry my purse on my right shoulder, not even it was working with me to camouflage the prunes.

The problem was, with nasty old red toenails, white scaly, pasty, veiny legs, my uber preppy, Jackie-O JCrew sweater and surf shorts, I still had to run two more errands while I was kid loose and fancy free. Dang it! At least I could switch my purse to my left shoulder...

2nd errand: Vitamin Cottage. Ran into the ladies I see there on a regular basis. They didn't notice the prunes I had tried to lick off in the car on the way there from the P.O. They are sweet. Maybe they just didn't let on?

3rd errand: Wal-Mart. And guess what? I fit right in. Don't be shocked if you see a picture of me on "What not to wear at Wal-Mart" or whatever that website is :)

I got my errands done. Now to grab Jason's power sander and soften up my feet for summer!

I know you usually have it altogether, but in case you aren't perfect, have any "out in publics" to share?

Oh, Facebook! Gotta love it!

2011-06-03T12:23:00.004-06:00

"Please copy and paste this as your status if you know someone, or have heard of someone who knows someone that may know someone who knows anyone. If you don't know anyone, or even if you've heard of anyone who doesn't know anyone that doesn't know someone, then still copy this. It's important to spread the message. Oh, and the hearts. ♥ ♥ ♥ For crap's sake, don't forget the hearts. ♥ ♥ ♥"

My friend, Russ, from college posted the above as his Facebook status yesterday. He has always been able to make me laugh!

Jason, Russ, and Yo
(Like Em's photo skills? She cut her own daddy out of the picture! Oops!)

This morning while I was holding Ryan, I was skimming through Facebook and came upon Russ' status. I started laughing, and then crying, and then cracking up so hard that Ryan started laughing at me. I told him that my friend Russ is hilarious, but that I was super mad at him because his post made me laugh...and I have strep throat from hell and it feels like I'm swallowing swords, so laughing with a sore throat isn't funny!

But laughing is great! It feels good, aside from the swords, it feels good in my body, in my heart, in my mind. I could sure use a good laugh a little more often. I usually laugh at most of life, more sarcastically, but I laugh nonetheless. And my sense of humor, well, it's likely inappropriate for the next guy, but if I can't laugh at little things, I won't be able to laugh at the big things, the things that are hard, the ones that make me grow...the ironic things...

I think I've gotten too serious.

I mean, it's easy to get serious. There is a lot in this world that is scary and wrong and downright frightening!

But I think that when we stop to laugh, especially at life, at ourselves, at each other, we open a place in our heart for hope.

And maybe, just maybe, there is a silver lining in every cloud...

Abrahandsome

2011-05-10T14:38:00.003-06:00

My sister said I could share...

Abrahandsome went into the OR earlier to have a scope and see what his larynx looked like. The opening was the size of a coffee stirrer. They also found the presence of a bacterial infection. While he was under they intubated him and now he is resting and getting ample O2. Mom and dad are napping, too.

They want to keep him for a few days to monitor him.

Thanks for your prayers for my sister and her hubby and, of course, Abrahandsome.

I'm headed up there later to take dinner and see my little boyfriend...sweet little guy!

I have a boyfriend...

2011-05-10T10:10:00.005-06:00

So, let me clarify all the men in my life.

Jason: Husband. Best Friend. Love of my life. Hottest man in the whole wide world...to me.
Ryan: Son. Little Lover. Love Bug. Cutie Pie.
Noah: Son. First baby boy that ever took my breath away.
Abraham: Nephew. Aka, my Boyfriend. Nickname - Abrahandsome. Turning 2 in a week and a half.
Notable mentions that I love dearly: My dad; first love. My gramps; cutest old man on earth. My other 3 nephews; more handsome than a girls' heart can take, ages 24 yrs, 4.5 years, and 8 months.

*Note: I did not mention God since He's not a man...but He's number One in my love life line-up...goes without saying.

For a girl that grew up surrounded by sisters, these men have blessed my heart in very beautiful ways.

But there's just something about my nephew Abraham, my little boyfriend, that I love. Maybe it's the fact that he actually comes to me, puts his arms up in the sky, and actually wants me, his Boo Boo, to hold him. And, not just for a minute...he actually snuggles me. He loves me and I love him back.

And he needs some prayers...along with his mama and papa. Please pray for my nephew, Abrahandsome. He's pretty sick and in the ICU needing oxygen. He's got a really crappy case of the croup. Since it's not my story, I don't want to take liberties blogging about it. He's my sister's first born and they could all use lots of prayers. Thanks in advance.

These were just taken the Saturday of Mother's Day weekend...

(How cute is his Home Depot apron?!?!)
You can see how thrilled he is to be taking self-portraits with his Boo Boo...he just stuck with me because I kept letting him eat chips and salsa :)

These are just oldies, but goodies:

Multi-tasking Halloween costume/jammies...

Making Out

2011-05-05T10:26:00.003-06:00

So, I used this as my title post here.

But, it has a different meaning to me when it comes to these cheeks.

Both sets of cheeks above are ones I don't think I could get sick of smooching on...

When I fell in love with Jason, I never imagined I could ever be in love with another man. Then I met Noah. Then I met Ryan. Of course my love for my sons is different than my love for Jason, but I have to say that meeting these two baby boys, and getting to hang out longer with the one pictured above, well, it's melted my heart and stirred up lovely dovey feelings that I am so happy are there.

I love, love, love Emily! Having a daughter is a huge joy to my heart. But I'm a messed up woman and I hope and pray I don't mess her up too much as a young girl. I'm using discretion of how much of my messed up journey I share with her and how much I shelter her from. Being a mom to a daughter is hard work. Maybe I only know this because it's been more long term and I'm still in the honeymoon stage with Ryan, but either way, I wouldn't trade being their mom for the world...I do know that.

Having a son, I probably could mess him up, too, but for now, I'm just busy making out with those chubby cheeks and super duper yummy pudgy wrists. Em wants me to think of a permanent nickname for Ryan, something that won't embarrass him when he's in junior high and high school.

Right now, nothing qualifies:

Little Lover
Love Bug
Sweet Baby
Cutie Pie, pronounced "Kew pie"
Yumminess

Yeah, Em's like, "Mom, you can't be all, 'Hey, Little Lover, come here!' in the grocery store when he's 13!"

She's right, but in the meantime, as long as my Peanut Butter will let me call her that, I'll call Ry all the lovey names in the book.

My prayer is that Ry will be as in love with me as Em is with her sweet daddy...at least for a little while, a mom can dream :)

Why?

2011-04-21T07:44:00.003-06:00

You might be wondering why I don't just post my guts from this blog here on this blog. I mean, it's not like I am two different people.

I'm not two different people. I am me. I am not perfect, though something long ingrained in me thinks I have to be, but to what standard, to what degree? And my perfection looks different from the next guys'. Anyway, I don't think in having my other blog that I am not being true to who I am. The other blog is about my battle with my self-image and my skewered relationship with food.

And it's my journey home. Back home to God, plain and simple, without the complications.

This blog started as a journal about Noah's hospital life. It has served as a place for grief debriefing. It's been a fun place for me to tell Emily stories and do some "show and tell". For some reason in my heart, I can't join the two blogs right now, but I am looking forward to the day I can be done with that blog and not have to "go there" anymore.

In the meantime.

Where you'll find me...

2011-04-14T16:08:00.003-06:00

I have to go here.

I have to, in order to find my freedom.

I'll still be here, but this isn't what this blog is all about. This blog is my refuge and I love it!

I hate this blog. But I gotta do it. (OOOOh, super fun for me!)

My skeleton.

Changes

2011-04-10T21:29:00.007-06:00

Ahhh, Blogger, you didn't recognize me when I logged on because it's been...FOREVER! I've been a little busy, doing a whole lotta this...

My kids loving time with their gramma.

Ry and his monkey ready for bedtime.

The kid loves bath time!

Em LOVES him!

Not crawling yet but scooching around.

(What? Oh yes...you must be a 5'9'' brunette or taller to be in the club :) )

Seriously, is he not the cutest 94 year old you've seen in a long time?!

Spending time with my folks has been so great for me and my ninos!

My little slobber-puss. He has his two lower teeth and they are the best teeth ever :)

I can't even begin to tell you how full my heart is...so many changes are going on in my life right now, but there are some beautiful things that remain...God's radical love for me, my wonderful family and the most amazing friends that I don't even deserve!

I signed off Facebook (where I've been spending my online time) for Lent. I hadn't given up anything for Lent in YEARS. My intentions in giving it up were to really focus on the Easter season, but honestly, giving up FB just freed up more time for me to be with the people I love on a day to day basis. It hasn't helped me to focus more on the earth moving, life-changing reality of all Easter represents...I mean, raising from the dead and conquering death pretty much speaks for itself...Anyway, I don't think I'll be giving up anything for Lent in the future...we need to be intentional with Christ all the time, not just 40-some odd days in the spring...

Anyway, not farting around on Facebook or the internet has really freed up a lot of time for me to just be a mama. Not to mention the fact that I stepped down from being the women's pastor at our church after 3 1/2 years, so that's freed up a bit of time and heart space.

And what do I do with all that time, you ask?!

Well, I've been having fun with my peanut, Emily...watching her blossom in her fluency in reading, her knowledge of God's word, her love of world history and earth science, namely rocks. She'll be going to a local Outward Bound Expeditionary Learning school next year so I am savoring our final weeks of homeschooling together...bittersweet, but I assured her we'll still do fun things at home to learn as a family.

And, I've been just shy of cannibalism with my already 7 month old baby guy! I eat his cheeks and nibble on his super yummy chubby wrists and smooch his toes and with each nibble and kiss I literally thank God for the opportunity to be a mom at the UBER young age of 39...an age I thought I'd never be a mom to an infant at, but nonetheless, am so thankful to be!

Jason said to me the other day, "It makes me so happy to see how much joy Ryan brings to your life..." That is one observant husband, I tell ya, because I am so in love with Ryan I can't begin to describe it to you.

I've thought about Noah a bit more lately...maybe it's the fact that Ryan has surpassed Noah's final age of 7 months and 2 days by over a week? I'm not really sure. It's not that I don't think of Noah, it's that the peace that God has given my heart in knowing he is truly, deeply, safely rooted in God's arms, I don't worry about him or longingly mourn for him, if that even makes sense? Maybe it's the fact that I no longer can compare Ryan to Noah...Ryan is just Ryan...a healthy, beautiful, really, really, really good baby that only looks like his big brother but isn't like him in any other way...at least not healthwise. And. Praise. God. For. That.

Honestly, I've felt selfish lately just eating up all the time I get to have with my kids. I could use a few dates out with the old hubster, but we'll get there. We did go out with our friends as pictured above, just a few weeks ago. I can't begin to tell you how much I love these people. It's like the way David and Jonathan felt about one another. At least that's how I feel about them!

Life really is too short to keep using the excuse of being too busy to spend time with the people that you love...just do it!

One beautiful thing that time has provided me with lately is the opportunity to start writing again...only it's not what you may think...

I'm not writing my book just yet...

It's better...

I'm writing a masterpiece...

And by "I'm writing" I mean, I am copying the Bible...and not by Xerox, mind you...

I've read the Bible several times in the last 25 years...and then, about a month ago, I felt very strongly in my heart to start handwriting the Bible...word for word. I can't even begin to tell you how rich this time has been for me. I'm not going to lie...it's gonna take a heckofalotta time, but by writing it out, with my super fine Sharpie, it's getting into my heart and becoming alive again. Em has already asked me for the final piece when I am done...so, you know what THAT means?! Yeah, that I'll have to hand write another copy for Ryan...sheesh!

So yeah...that's my report. I have more to divulge...like super juicy stuff...like skeletons in my closet type stuff, but I'm going to bed for now. I will share it soon, I promise. You may not care, or, let's be honest, there may not even be anyone out there reading anymore...but I have a feeling I'm not the only one with this skeleton in my closet, so just maybe it will encourage you on your journey...

For now, buenos noches!

A bit of a novice...

2011-02-14T22:49:00.004-07:00

...and he just thought he was getting up to have a yummy bottle. Little did he know that he'd be getting a taste of his very first vittles...

Super cool dude race car bib made for Ry especially by his Nana...

...looking around, curious as to why I hadn't given him a bottle quite yet...

Sweet potatoes.
Big sis did the honors.
She had begged me to be the first one to feed him and she did a great job!
(*notice the chubby wrists...I chew on them daily...I personally think they are fabulous)

He more or less made out with his spoon, but did get some food down...

...and what he didn't get off the spoon, he just sucked off his super cool dude race car bib.

The above pictures reveal why I no longer wear white t-shirts as my wardrobe of choice :)

Cuteness level: Off the charts...

2011-02-01T14:25:00.004-07:00

Obviously, I am biased. Everyone should think their kids are the cutest.

I am no exception.

Sorry for NEVER being on here anymore, if you were, in fact missing me and my randomness :) I'm busy staring at this sweet, little, chubby, yummy, tasty, snuggly, hunk of a little man and I'm loving it!

LUH UV ING it!

I mean, look at that face!

And those lips!!!

With this facing staring at me everyday, NO, I don't get anything done...at all.

I personally love how chubby his wrist/forearm juncture is! OOOOOH!

Don't worry, I didn't take these today on the coldest day of the winter!

My big sis, however, sent me an email today reminding me, the second child, that the second, third, fourth, etc, kid always gets the raw end of the deal on pictures...It's not that I haven't been taking them, it's that I'm so busy snuggling him that I'm rarely on the computer anymore...and that's okay!

I just figured since Ryan is already 5 months old, I should probably share some pics so you could see how big he's getting.

My favorite things in no particular order:

He talks to himself in the mornings in his bed while waiting for me to go get him.
He smiles and brings his hands together.
He laughs when I change his onesie b/c he thinks I'm trying to tickle him.
He found his knee the other day and started cracking up, thinking it was hilarious.
He is a slobber puss.
He talks to us in his own sweet language.
He is in the 95%tile for his height and 45%tile for weight.
He is eating veggies like a champ.
He "holds" his own bottle.
He likes to smile at me in the mirror while grabbing my face.
He looks like Noah, which sucked at first, but Noah wasn't ugly, so it's not so bad :)
He, he, he...

Anyway, sorry, enough bragging. I'm in love. I can't help it. Em loves being a big sis and Jason's the best baby daddy in the whole wide world!

My heart is full...

(pictures of him eating veggies to come...)

Poor Ryan...

2011-01-12T12:05:00.002-07:00

...I feel so sorry for the kid.

Don't get me wrong, I'm more than honored and grateful that I had a son named Noah. But let's face it, being the little brother of a dead kid is a tough act to follow.

It makes for a neurotic mom at times. Not all the time, but for sure sometimes...

I know, at least in my head, that Noah did do some normal things.

But, when Ryan does those same things, it freaks me out...just in case those things weren't normal things at all.

So, he's been stretching his neck and back really far back to look around the room. Noah did this. I didn't like it when Noah did this. It was always accompanied by a weird sound and then he'd kind of pass out, you could say.

Ryan doesn't pass out. He doesn't make weird sounds.

He's just curious, apparently.

But still, I called my little sister who has a baby boy 9 days younger than Ryan and told her the scene...

...her kid does the same dumb ass move.

So, Ryan's fine. I'm fine. Her kid is fine.

And Noah is fine. Healed. Well. Whole. Having a blast in the presence of the One True God.

Happy Birthday, little mister! Thank you. Thank you for being our son. Thank you for coming into our lives and letting us love on you! We miss you but know you are a bit preoccupied with whatever it is you are doing in God's presence...so have fun with that!

We'll see you when God says so...

Pink snow

2011-01-05T07:32:00.004-07:00

Just before the sun breaks the horizon in the east, the most breathtaking thing happens a few miles west of our house...the Rocky Mountains turn shades of pink. All shades, even ranging to salmon. It is amazing, to say the least.

And then, as the sun rises, all the colors fade and what is left is plain, old, white snow-capped mountains. And by "plain, old, white" I mean:

Clean
Fresh
Pure
Spotless
New
Unadulterated
Uncontaminated
Untainted
Pristine

I love the sunrise when I am up to greet it. Until I moved to Colorado, I usually looked east to see the sunrise...seeing as how that's where it rises and all...but the effect of the sunrise on the mountains has caused my eyes to look west and watch God's artistry in action.

I have lived in the Denver, Colorado area for almost 9 years now and I have never gotten sick of looking west at the mountains. I am in awe that there is a true God, the One and Only God, who is capable of such beauty and creativity.

Now, for those who know me, you know I'm not a fan of being cold. In fact, I'm headed to get some blood work done today because I get downright cranky and teary when I am cold, which is pretty much every day the temps dip below 50. It must be my Arizona upbringing, being spoiled in the desert? Somehow, though, I can handle snow here better than I did in Minnesota for 8 years...but, I do love snow.

There, I admitted it. I love snow.

...from a distance (smiley face)

Snow is so pure. And to see hundreds of feet of it piled atop mountains is one of my favorite sights. It's so clean looking that it's hard for me to look away. No flaws. No stains. No dirt or crud. Not the snow you find at a dog park or along the highway. That's disgusting and the furthest thing from what I am describing.

Fresh, beautiful snow in the quiet of the forest. Clean, white snow in the field outside your farm.

And the beauty in it isn't just for us to play in and see. God gives it to every. single. person. as a reminder.

God talks about snow in the Bible. And He compares it to the way He views us.

Can you even imagine? He, God eternal, without imperfection, pure and holy, looks at us as though we were like snow.

David cries out, "Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow."

God answers in Isaiah, "Come now, let us reason together," says the Lord. "Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool."

When I look with my human eyes on the pink snowy mountains before the daybreak, though beautiful and breathtaking, my mind only sees the effects of the sunrise. My mind forgets momentarily that the mountains aren't actually hues of pink, but white, pure clean white.

Then the Light bursts forth over the horizon. The color is gone. The sun has shone and shown the true color.

The color white.

When I look in the mirror, I often judge myself. When we look around, we look at the outside of people. We see scarlet, pink, salmon, crimson. It's the effect of the world's lack of light, aka sin, that causes us to see an unsightly mark or imperfection in another.

It's the effect of trusting the Son, Jesus Christ, with our lives that we are able to look in the mirror and see what God sees. That we can look at another and know that the same God that created the Universe and sees us as clean, new, pure, is the same God that created that guy, and that guy, and that guy over there...and when He looks at them, and at me, He sees white.

We aren't perfect...but that's how God sees us because of crimson red blood that was given for us.

I am so grateful that God puts reminders like sunrises and majestic mountains on His Earth to show His unconditional love for every. single. one. of. us.

The Reason?

2010-12-22T09:20:00.002-07:00

For several years now I've not been able to put into words my feelings or thoughts on Christmas, and why, for a time, I've found myself even cranky about it.

I think I've figured it out.

There are certain dates that stand out in my calendar year. Dates to remember. Obviously we all have birthdays. And then there are national holidays, world wide holidays, personal anniversaries or dates to remember, and then, in my life, the days several loved ones have gone before me into God's amazing presence, leaving us behind.

And since losing a son on January 12th, 2007, a son who was born June 10th, 2006, those particular dates have new meaning for me rather than just being days after my birthday or weeks before our wedding anniversary. They are kind of a big deal. But they also are not...

Let me explain. Every. Single. Day. I remember that we had a son and that he died. Every. Single. August through January, I remember that we spent 5 months in the hospital with our son that passed away. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, my birthday...these all over-lapped Noah's life in the hospital. Do I think about it at Every. Single. Moment? No. But it is part of my core. I cannot escape it. It has helped shape me. God is good and I do not despise having walked in the sufferings of Christ for God's glory.

But the pressure to make those days stand out more than the next...I feel like that is where we are missing out on something far greater...

...And that is a daily walk and celebration of knowing the God of the Universe, the Wonderful Counselor, the Prince of Peace, the Holy God who adores us. Every. Single. Day.

Jesus. Every. Single. Day.

So, for me, as far as Christmas goes, I am aware that Jesus came as a baby to this earth 2000+ years ago. Every. Single. Day. I am also keenly aware and wordlessly thankful for what His life meant for all of mankind, for me specifically, as well as His death and resurrection. Every. Single. Day.

Believe me, I am not Scrooge. I love Christmas for the fun traditions, recipes, music, parties, and the opportunity to just give things to people for no particular reason, just because I can. I love the decorations, twinkling lights, the smells and the spirit that comes out in people. I am grateful God made the mountains capped with snow splashed with trees that never lose their green...because even the trees and rocks and all of creation shout praises to our God.

We've always told Em about a man named St. Nicholas who gave gifts to orphans which is where the tradition began, but it hasn't ever been the central theme at our home. I think she sat on his lap once or twice, but she wasn't impressed. No, for us it's been about family and being together...being thankful...like an extension of Thanksgiving.

But, by any stretch of the imagination, I cannot justify that I give Jason and Emily and Ryan and others gifts because a long time ago Jesus was born and some wise men from the East made their way to Him to worship Him and shower Him with gifts fit for the King. They made their way to Him because God marked it in the sky to show these guys the way to the Truth, to eternal Life, to salvation...His very own star that led them to the feet of the Savior of the world.

No one really even knows when Jesus' birthday was, but most scholars and historians agree it was not December 25th. No, I give the people in my life gifts because I am thankful for them, not because I worship them. And I decorate because it's pretty. Does this mean I celebrate a pagan holiday? No.

So, what I think I've figured out is that, for me, it's okay to celebrate Christmas Every. Single. Day. Because it means I am celebrating the Life of Christ. It doesn't mean I have to put pressure on myself to justify the tree and stockings in order to make them "spiritual" in meaning.

Instead, it means if I am to celebrate the Life of Christ every day, it bears more responsibility, which is really nothing different from what I've known. That my life is not my own. That my attitude should reflect Christ. That I need to live life in a generous way, selflessly, giving to others...laying down my life for a friend.

That's not a one time a year thingy.

It's a lifestyle.

So, is Jesus the Reason for the Season? Kinda, sorta...

Jesus Christ is the Reason for Every. Single. Day.

Merry Christmas!

Over it...

2010-12-17T07:23:00.004-07:00

Yep. I'm over it.

I'm over blogging.

At least today I am so over blogging.

I am sick of posting about my kid that died.

I don't have time to post about the one that was just born because I am too busy spending time with him.

The 8 year old keeps me busier than busy.

I don't remember the last time I truly, really, I mean really, really, really showered.

Having an 8 year old meant that I had slept thru the night for the previous 7 years.

I'm not sure when I'll ever do that again.

It's one of those days.

I am cranky.

I don't even remember the last time I sat across a table from my husband for more than 2 minutes...and don't remember the last time I wanted to...and I'm sure there's a "vice versa" here...

He's tired.

I'm tired.

Ryan and Emily and Lady the dog don't seem all that exhausted...they seem quite rested seeing as how Ry naps throughout the day and most of the night...except when he squirms and squeaks...oh, and let's see, Lady pretty much naps all day long with the exception of when she has her freaking crazy hour right before it's time for bed and she wants to play ball and tug with her chew toys...and Emily, what about her? Since we've been homeschooling she has somehow managed to coerce her two middle-aged exhausted parents into thinking that allowing her to stay up a little later each night is a good idea.

This all equals exhaustion, crankiness, despondency and low quality high carb-consumption on the part of yours truly.

Oh, and since Em's hitting the sack later that means the only time I've seen my husband in the last 3 and a half months was at 3 recent Christmas parties...one attended by 30 people, another by 700+ and another with approximately 70.

Oh yeah, and since we're homeschooling, that means the last time I was all alone, all by myself, without anyone needing me was....ummmmm.....huh?! I guess it was when I was...I'm thinking, give me a minute...oh yeah, when I was in my MOTHER'S WOMB!!!!!!

And, I've realized that I still hate Christmas in the "American Consumerism Time-Sucking Gimme Gimme Gimme" sense of the word.

Somehow, someday, I want to figure out how to celebrate the Birth of Christ for what it truly is...the day the Savior of the whole wide world was born to save us from ourselves. It's something I am thankful for on a daily basis...so the pressure to make this specific time of year uber-spiritual is kind of frustrating!

So, how is your day?

"The path of least resistance..."

2010-12-12T15:41:00.006-07:00

...was not meant for me to take. I'm learning how to live on the way."
- Elizabeth Hunnicutt, from her album On The Way (emphasis mine)

Here is a sneak peak at a video I made today that I'll be sharing with a local MOPS group on Tuesday.

It's crazy how 4 years later, looking at all these pics again, the tears still flow just as heavily. I get downright cranky looking at some of the pictures from Noah's stint, aka, life in the hospital. I get pissed that he was ever sick at all...and, I know they are brothers, but seriously!? Ryan looks exactly like Noah to me right now...and though I do stare at him and love on him for being himself, it's hard not to see Noah's face in Ryan's sometimes. Please pray that I can hold it together and share what is on my heart without being a slobbery, bawling mess.

Elizabeth gave me permission to use this song. She didn't realize as she wrote the words from her own heart that they would be words from my very own heart unable to be conveyed. I am so grateful that God has gifted some to be musicians! Thanks, Elizabeth!

(*And, Elizabeth's album is on sale right now in time for Christmas. And, be checking back on her site because she's debuting another album soon! I can't wait!)

Ways to use your old Halloween candy...

2010-11-15T10:40:00.004-07:00

I talked with Em about healthy choices and all the Halloween candy she got this year...she was going to weigh off a few pounds of it and give it to the dentist but decided to donate it to the Gingerbread cause this year, instead.

Two years ago Jason's sister moved in with us for a bit. She and Em and I embarked on what has now become an annual tradition: The building of a masterpiece. You might remember our first creation. It was my favorite so far...since, of course, it was in honor of my sweet Noah's life.

Here's a peek at our second creation.
I enjoyed that one, too, as I have a jewelry business, bebe & boo, and enjoy being creative with new and vintage pieces.

This year, per Emily's request and design, we made Sacagawea's Indian village. Em LOVES Sacagawea!

Anyway, we started at about 8 o'clock at night with a river...

...added a little grass and a bank...

Em put some treasures in the river, as well as a small bridge.

Here's my favorite feature: the fire pit.

Here is the entrance to the village that Em and her Auntie created.

Here's Em's field, ripe for harvest.

They designed little dresses for Sacagawea's tribal members.

(Yes, that is our Christmas tree up in the background...Em quietly carried ALL the tubs up from the basement on Friday morning and placed them smack dab in the middle of the family room floor. I guess that was her subtle way of telling me she wanted me to decorate?!)

That would be a KitKat entrance to the tepee.

Here's Em's creativity at best...a Brave spearing a Swedish fish from Royal Icing River.

We used sugar cones as the bases to our pine trees.

And, as you can see, the actual Gingerbread is the siding on the tepees and the Braves and Little Indian Girls.

This wasn't the smoothest process. I had spaced that we were actually doing the Gingerbread, so, of course, forgot until about 8 pm that I had to make dough and let it sit for 2 hours before baking it. Let's just say, with Dad in Peru, Mom skipped bed time rules and my sweet girl was up until midnight! Yikes! She thought it was great! Here are some things I learned, though, so you don't have to replay my mistakes:

prepare your dough in advance
use real egg whites, from actual eggs you crack yourself OR use powdered eggs whites, for Royal Icing...DO NOT USE eggs whites that are in those refrigerated containers.

Yeah, that's pretty much it. I use my Joy cookbook that was a wedding gift 17+ years ago for my recipes...Gingerbread House and Royal Icing. I try to think outside the box when it comes to a food or snack that is around the house...it's fun to see what you can come up with. And, your kids are NOT going to miss the Halloween candy, so use it up!

We don't actually eat our creations. In fact, we literally just put Noah's Ark in the dumpster last Friday morning. It's just fun to have them around for a while.

Oh, and I did not even lick my finger or taste test one piece of candy while doing this project because I am on a detox/cleanse...so, if you are trying to lose weight and think you can't do it, think again! I've lost 18 lbs and it wasn't even tempting!

The point is to be creative and have fun! And, you don't even have to be a kid to do it!

Go get your Gingerbread on!

Pinch me!

2010-11-10T08:35:00.002-07:00

These pictures were taken by Sara Lazio when Ryan was about 3 weeks old. He's already pushing 11 weeks! I just wanted to post these so you could see her great work and God's amazing creation!

He coos.

He smiles.

He looks at me.

He smells like a slice of Heaven.

He sneezes cute.

Heck, even when he toots, it's the most adorable thing in the world! Em wants to know why it isn't cute when she does it anymore...

And as I hold Ryan and nibble on his fingers, toes, ears, cheeks and nose, my heart is so full, so grateful he's different than Noah...and at the same time, because of Noah, I pray for the moms and dads out there that don't have teeny, tiny fingers and toes to nibble on this morning...and I pray for God's healing to take place in their hearts...and for His peace to replace despair...and for Hope in His will, and comfort in His arms to be all that you need today, and as the days ahead approach.

I just wanted you to know that your pain is on my heart and I am praying for you...I do not take my newborn for granted...I am so sorry for your loss.

One day at a time

2010-11-08T06:11:00.004-07:00

The sixth chapter of Matthew is one of my staples.

I could read it every. single. day.

The five main topics it covers are: giving, praying, fasting, heart treasures, and worry.

One of my life motto's is to live one day at a time...not worrying about all the what if's? and unknowns. I HATE, ABHOR, GET SO CRANKY, when, in life, I or others, have gone off on rabbit trails about all the worst case scenarios that could possibly occur with such and such a situation. It's a waste of time to go there...it only breeds discontent, anxiety, worry, crippling, disease...

With all of God's word, I really take these words of Jesus to heart. I figure, hey, He knows a heck of a lot more than me, has had a bit more life experience (even if He died when He was 33), sees a bigger picture, and knows the whole future, so trusting that He doesn't make this stuff up might just give me the advantage in this life. The advantage over an Enemy that hates my guts and wants to steal joy from me.

I'm pretty Literal. Black and White. Right and Wrong. Rule Follower. But that is for me, I'm not projecting it on you or you or her or him. I often have inner turmoil when I don't do something just so. It's my own imperfect pursuit of perfection and I realize it's not right. It has its disadvantages, but it also has advantages...

...for instance, when I read God's word, I take it literally. When I read it I don't have a million questions racing through my mind whether I think it is true or not, whether God was just pulling my leg when He wrote this, or whether there's a catch to everything I read. No, He said it.

No. God is Who HE says HE is. HE is not a liar. HE is not a man that HE could lie. HE is truth. The Ultimate Answer in the pursuit of truth. GOD is Truth.

So, when I read His word, I trust that He has given it to me as a gift, a sneak peek, preview, forewarning, or guide to living here on earth outside of His physical presence. I take it literally because, since I don't live in The Garden, it's the next best thing to walking alongside Him and learning all He wanted to show us originally.

So, back to Matthew 6, and doing one day at a time...reading the five lessons that Jesus touches on here, all of them are summed up in the final two verses, 6:33&34:

"But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

Em and I have been tracing back to my Catholic heritage a bit. You see, in regular evangelical circles, you don't hear "The Our Father" all that often, though everyone knows it. Well, Em and I have been praying it, or a version of it, every day...because it does what verse 33 tells us to do.

When Jesus told us how to pray, it starts out blessing God's name...not listing the 50 million things that we want or that need fixing on this earth. God knows this...

Hello! News Flash: verse 8...for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

It's like putting the cart before the horse when we give God our grocery and "to-do" list before we seek Him, thank Him, and praise Him first.

It's a practical thing, but one I wanted to share. Trusting God and thanking Him, rather than worrying, is a practice I haven't perfected, but it's what I wanted to share because as humans we have a tendency to worry about all the what if's? The problem is, as much as we try, we can't control, or even begin to understand, all the outcomes or the processes.

But God does. And He is big. And if we can trust Him with the words,

"...your kingdom come,
your will be done
on earth as it is in heaven..."

...then literally taking one day at a time, though some may be easy and others excruciating, will become a new way of living life.

Random thoughts I just wanted to share...

So proud of her...

2010-11-05T15:24:00.003-06:00

Over 8 years ago I met you, sweet girl...

I am awed by your creativity, your generosity, and your carefree spirit.

If I could hold this position forever I would...but I know you'll eventually spread your wings.

Em, it's been so fun doing homeschool with you...getting to know you more, learning your heart and your style. Please bear with me as I figure this out.
Above all else, I want this year to be a blessing to you, to your heart, to your confidence.
I want you to love God and learning more and more.
Thanks for letting me walk this journey with you.
I love you bigger than the Universe, Peanut.

*Photos by Sara Lazio, Denver Photographer

My cutie patooties!

2010-11-02T10:42:00.003-06:00

In the history of my 38 years and 10 months...

I have never bought a Halloween costume...

...until October 30th, 2010. Emily changed her mind at the last minute of what she wanted to be. I hadn't technically made her a Halloween costume, per se. Last year in school she did a report on the American Revolution and I made her a Betsy Ross costume.

And by "I made" I mean, baby, I went all out...like OCD style. At that time I informed Em that she was going to get two uses out of the costume, thus wearing it for Halloween. She was totally game. She thought that was great!

Then, I realized that I was being a bit neurotic. I told her she could be anything she wanted...but that because of the time frame, I wasn't going to be able to make her a costume. It left a pit in my stomach.

Now, I'm not judging you if you buy a costume. Many costumes at stores are actually great...even better than homemade. But for me it's fun to make up a costume from either thrift store finds, a pattern or from scratch. I enjoy it...and it's all I've ever known.

My mom always made our costumes...my little sister even came over the day before Halloween and saw the package on the chair...She looked at me strange and said, "What is that?" She had never seen this in her 32 years and 2 months, either...

Anyway, Em drew up a design...it bordered Rock Star and Pirate. But no matter what, for 3 days straight, all she talked about was she wanted a redhead wig...that HAD to be part of the costume.

So, there you go. Em was a pirate. Here's her blog on it... Go there to find out what we're going to do with her candy.

And here's my little baby bear. I did not make his costume...GAP did. When I was preggers with Ryan I went to the GAP just to check it out. I saw this outfit and it was all I could think about!

But now, this little handsome guy is all I can think about!

Hair's the dealio...

2010-11-01T07:49:00.004-06:00

Okay, remember this?

Those pictures were taken on January 12th, 2008, in memory of Noah's first year in Heaven. Many of YOU actually were in seats in salons in your own states around the country braving the shears, as well. That day donations of pony tails not only went to Locks of Love, but, the finances we raised went to Operation Smile, a non-profit that provides cleft palate surgery for children in third world countries.

I chose that charity because Noah never smiled...his nerves shut down too soon...

Imagine never being able to smile...

Well, GUESS WHAT?!

My little sister and I have started growing our hair out again...and this time, we have chosen a very special date to cut if all off...

August 2nd, 2011.

For those who are new, no, our son Ryan did not die on August 2nd. In fact he was born on August 28th and is doing splendidly at 2 months! (I'll post pictures soon.)

But our very dear friend, Ryan, did. He lived and died a hero.

Jason and I miss Ryan everyday. This is my way of remembering...

Dr. Ryan Arnold was an orthodontist...and a generous one, at that. He and his wife had even gone overseas to serve a third-world community, donating their time and expertise.

So, the financial contributions to the August 2nd, 2011, Locks of Love hair donation next year will go towards Operation Smile. Again, this just seems fitting.

So, here's what my sis and I looked like almost 3 years ago after our cuts...

OMW, look how little Em is!!

We all have long hair right now, so should even have some length left over after the 10-inch pony tails are donated.

Anyway...I'd like to invite you to join us on on this growing adventure!

How fun would it be to have salons all over the country, and world, swarming on August 2nd, 2011 with women and children donating their pony tails?! And, if you, in your neck of the woods want to organize the proceeds to go to another local non-profit, by all means! Do it!

The point is to get out there, ladies! Don't just go get a hair cut...go have fun and make a difference!

Either way, please comment and let us all know when, where, for whom you and your girlfriends will be donating your locks next year!

Get your grow on!

What I'm chewing on...

2010-10-25T08:24:00.003-06:00

I wanted to share some scriptures that I'm going to be meditating on this week, or for however long. I could type a million words here, but there is nothing on this earth more refreshing to me, whether I want to hear it or not, than God's Word.

My sweet friend a few years back made me a box of hundreds of scripture cards, all laminated and in pretty colors...yes, she was an Elementary school teacher...anyway, I keep it on a coffee table in my bedroom and while I feed Ryan I flip through these cards that are much more than just cards, but literal food for every part of my being.

In Jason's line of work it is common place, though heart-breaking, to encounter starvation and malnutrition.

In America it is common place to encounter over-eating or over-consumption, yet we rarely, if ever, equate it with the same definitions: starvation and malnutrition, lack or being without.

In America, we have so much. We have plenty. We have more than enough and even some of the most impoverished people in our country are better off than many of those in 3rd world countries.

And, in America, in American Christianity, there are many that on the outside look well-fed and nourished, yet on the inside are truly starving, barely surviving.

I lived like that for years...trying to follow Christ without getting to know Him in His Word...

John chapter six talks about Jesus being the "bread of life." In the wilderness when the Jews were wandering, God provided literal food, manna bread, for the people to ingest. For years, thousands of them, people have taken that sign as something with which we are to fill our lives with...we find comfort in it.

I found comfort in it for years...

The Jews were very comfortable knowing they'd find manna each morning out in the wilderness. Of course, then they started grumbling since they were eating it every single day...they longed for variety.

Jesus is that variety. He satisfies in a way we are unable to explain so that when our lives are in transition, holding patterns, complete chaos, knowing and trusting Christ brings a peace that no meal could satisfy.

Anyway, that wasn't what I was going to share...I was going to share the scriptures that I am chewing on, feasting on, in the days ahead. I hope they are an encouragement and challenge to you, as well.

"Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me." NIV Psalm 51:12 Here's The Message version that ROCKS!
"Remain in me, and I will remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me." NIV John 15:4 Here it is in The Message.
"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law." NIV Galatians 5:22-23 Here it is in The Message.

It's so cool how these were the first 3 scripture cards in my little box this morning...and how they progress as you dig deeper into each one.

So that's what I'm chewing on. Want a bite?

8 weeks

2010-10-22T12:45:00.000-06:00

Why are these pictures so special to my mommy and daddy?

Well, besides the fact that I am the subject in the pictures, they say they are special because I am at home.

I am at home most of the time. I'm not sure why this is such a big deal, but when my mom smiles at me with this weird wet stuff dripping from her eyes, I suppose that is significant.

Apparently not all 8 week old baby boys are at home...in their mommy's arms, getting snuggled and slobbered on. What? Oh, my mom said she doesn't "slobber" but that those things are called "kisses" or "smooches". Whatever they are, I won't lie...I like them a lot.

Yeah, my doctor told my parents today that I am really healthy. I have good muscle tone...this apparently will come in handy with the ladies, I hear. I also can hold my mommy's finger...again, apparently the ladies like this behavior. Oh yeah, I have good eye contact...sheesh, what don't the ladies like?!

Anyway, my mom and dad are really excited that I am at home with them, eating, growing, sleeping and, I heard my mommy even say she likes it when I poop. I like pooping, too, but who knew it could make my momma so happy?!

So, there you go. I am Ryan Everett Graves, and like my name means, I am "Brave and Strong", a "Man of Distinction" and I live at home with my parents.

Shocking similarities...

2010-10-20T23:27:00.003-06:00

...but thankfully, different!

(photo by Sara Lazio of Lazio Images...she rocks!)

(photo courtesy of Michelle Arnold...one of my favorite pictures of all time!)

I have more pictures to share. In fairness, the boys were not the same age in the above photos.

The first baby pic is taken at 3 weeks...the second is 5 or 6 weeks.

I have photos where they look like identical twins.
(Seriously, Ryan couldn't have just looked Italian or Asian or something?! Yeah, no. His dad is Czech/English, so that would not have worked...nope, he had to look just like his big brother!)

Noah was 7.5 weeks when he was admitted to the hospital.

Ryan is 7.5 weeks today.

...I am grateful to have passed the 7.5 week mark...

...but I'm still just loving him one day at a time!

What I'm learning in 3rd grade

2010-10-18T15:31:00.002-06:00

We are homeschooling this year...yes, you heard me right. We have an infant. We have a new puppy. I have my own business. I have a non-profit. I'm the director of women's ministry at my church. I'm a wife. I'm a mom. I'm a sister, daughter, friend. Yada, yada, yada.

...and...I look nothing like the woman described in Proverbs 31...

...because, may I remind you, she had a full-time staff...God's grace and her full-time staff are what made her amazing.

What makes me amazing? Nothing.

I listed those things above not to boast that I am amazing and all that and a bag of chips, but because I'm a real live woman just like you, doing too much at once, but loving every aspect, and simply doing the best that I can.

I do live by God's grace, however I do not have a full-time staff. I have a lot of awesome people in my life that help me with all the areas listed above, and that is how I am able to do all those things. Team. I'll be the first to admit I don't do any of those things on my own...

I'm not sayin' I do them well...I'm just sayin' I "do" them.

So, back to homeschooling...Em and I embarked on this journey about a month ago. Ryan's arrival put our start date out a bit...

We've both shed tears.
We've both wanted to throw in the towel.
We've both laughed hard.
We've both wanted to punch the other in the face. (not really, of course)
I've wondered if I made the right decision.
I've gone back to God with the "Are You sure You wanted me to do this?" prayer several times.
She's told me she loves school but is lonely.
I've had to be better at coordinating play dates...

I could list a lot of bullet points that could lead to a million different discussions. But this is what God has put upon my heart as we do this homeschool journey, one day at a time:

It is my job this year not to obsess about her academic excellence (as she is naturally brilliant...) but to learn to love her and love her well.

As soon as I changed gears in my heart that this was my job, the anxiety of the bigger picture went away. I was able to let go and trust, once again, that God is big. That He loves Em more than I do. That He's got the big picture and knows just exactly what Em needs this year. And that He has a plan for her life...and it's beautiful and designed with her gifts in mind.

As a mom who loves her children to the Universe and back, it gives me indescribable peace to know that God loves them more than that.

If your gut, aka God, has told you to do something that is not up your alley and harder than you ever dreamed, I just want to encourage you...

...you really can do it. Not because you are Wonder Woman, but because God is big and is faithful to us, even when we feel like flaking.

I have never walked in your shoes. I've never sat where you sit or endured what you have, or will, endure. All I know is that as I'm learning to love Emily well, I am also learning more about God's love for me.

I'm learning that He is patient beyond what I deserve.

Many people wonder where God is, or was, when things here on earth are unbearable, confusing and painful beyond words. From my own experience God was in the middle of it, holding my heart, assuring me that life here is short and temporary...if I'll just hold on and trust that there is more life to come.

The 411, Part Deux

2010-10-01T23:46:00.005-06:00

Sorry! I literally did not intend to leave you hanging but between poopy diapers, homeschooling, pumping, trying to keep my kitchen clean, showering periodically, making meals, snuggling, etc, apparently big nuggets of time are no longer at my disposal. Today I did, however, stay up after Ryan's 5:00 a.m. feeding and do Turbo Jam, as well as showered and made breakfast with Emily. Some days I brush my teeth and that's fabulous. Other days I surprise myself and actually get other things accomplished. My goal each day, however, is to smooch the heck out of my tasty baby boy and stare at my beautiful 8 year old as she learns about God's beautiful love for her and the world. (And, of course, as you might imagine, I wrote the above paragraph two days ago and haven't worked out or showered since...)

So, as I said, that is when the whole scene turned emotional. Honestly, I felt like I was in the Twilight Zone. Everything seemed like deja-vu with Noah's delivery.

It was also a Saturday...
It was a boy, obviously...
Same hospital...
None of the doctors from my practice were on call...
Third party doc on call that I didn't know from Adam...
Meconium on the scene...again!

Okay, so she was probably going to send me home...I mean, I was at a "One" for Pete's sake. And, I learned the inside scoop: nurses and doctors only consider the actual act of PUSHING labor!!!!! I'll give you labor! $%^&*(

Anyway, where was I? Okay, so, I was at a "One"...we've determined that. The problem was the nurse determined this just before shift change so I had to sit and wait for the next nurse to come in and see if anything else had happened. That nurse did come in...and nothing had happened.

So, she sent me on a walk for an hour. I walked the old halls where Emily had been born. They were remodeling areas of the floor, so it was nice and quiet...but it was mauve since that particular wing hadn't been remodeled yet, and let's be honest...mauve is gross. So, I headed back to the room to see if there had been any progression.

...I was at a "One" and a "half" ish...

BUT, the nurse wanted to do one more "procedure".

Did you know that pulling your cervix forward when its facing backwards hurts like a mother #$%^&*(?!?!

Uh, yeah! She was a great nurse and really on top of things (one of my BFF's is an L and D nurse, so she was checking in every so often and told me my nurse was good...), but all she said was, "This is going to hurt but the rest of the checks won't hurt as much..."

I literally almost shot up over the top of the bed! I screamed like a baby and when she was done, I literally rolled over onto my side and sobbed to Jason. I told him I wanted my Pooh Bear (yes, I do still sleep with my 38 year old Winnie the Pooh...what's it to ya?) and that this whole thing sucked and that I didn't want to do this and that it was just too much for me to handle and what were we thinking. The tears flowed. I felt totally vulnerable. It wasn't fluffy and warm and fuzzy. It was scary and it all reminded me too much of the last little boy who took me on a roller coaster ride.

The nurse let me calm down and then monitored little Nacho's heart rate for a bit. She told me she was sorry she had to do that but that she was sure I'd progress from there. She left us to calm down and take short cat naps. Jason babbled something about how we could have slept at home for so many more hours...I ignored him but gave him a good slap upside the head in my mind. Then forgave him quickly...because I'm just that kinda girl.

The nurse came in about half an hour later...

I was at a "Two".

But there was still talk of sending me home. WHAT THE FREAK?!?!

My contractions had slowed to between 3 and 4 minutes. I wasn't too excited about the idea that I could possibly still be sent home...and then I had my first visitor.

Dr. V, the third party doc that delivered Noah, walked into the room. She had her scrubs on, but not to see me. She said she had just gotten to the floor and saw my name on the board. She said that there are some names that just stick with you. She didn't know that Noah had passed away until she came on the floor that day 4 years later...she came in to say hello and to wish me luck. I was blown away. I reminded her of the party we had in the delivery room with all my girlfriends while Noah was born because I couldn't believe she really remembered me. She assured me she did. Who knew after all these years we'd left an impression?!

Back to the story. My nurse came in and checked me.

I was at a "Three".

She had been monitoring Nacho's heart rate and though it was recovering, she still didn't like that during each contraction his heart rate would dip slightly...so she went to make a call...

...and Mr. Favorite Doctor strolled into the room, all smiles, dressed in his shorts and a Polo on that lovely Saturday morning. He said, "Let's get this show on the road and have a baby today."

I choked back the tears that he wanted to help us have a baby on his day off. But, I didn't send him back home :)

He broke my water and ordered Pitocin.

And, like each of my other kids, baby Nacho had stooled in utero so the ICU nurses were alerted that their presence would be necessary at delivery.

Freaking Great! Kid, you're killing me! The last people I want to see in your delivery room are a bunch of ICU people! Can't you just pop out and cut me some slack?!
Well, as I said, I was a bit emotional. I informed the nurse I was not planning on feeling any pain during this delivery so to make sure the anesthesiologist knew his services were wanted as soon as possible. I had gone to a 7.5 with Noah before I thought I'd pass out and finally ordered an epidural, but honestly, I just could not do it this time. I was tired before I ever skipped a full night of sleep, not just due to lack of sleep but the emotional roller coaster I had been on.

Anyway, my nurse started the Pitocin and was tracking my contractions alongside a girl's in another room. Mine weren't off the charts, but I could feel them and they were spreading out a little more. The doc came in to give me my epidural. I was ready to relax and calm down for a bit.

My little sister, due within a week of me (but also given the same due date on one occasion...) came over and painted my toenails. She went home and said she'd stop by later with the fam.

Jason's sister stopped by after class around 2:30 or so to say hi. Then Em and Gina came by to hang out for a little while.

Em brought me my Pooh Bear. I hadn't even asked her to!

I was at a "Four" so Jason informed them that it would be a while...if they had errands to do or anything else, to go ahead and come back later. So they all headed out for a bit.

Mr. Favorite Doctor kept calling the nurse and telling her to up my Pitocin because my contractions weren't that intense...so she obliged and kept cranking up the numbers. They still weren't as intense as the girl's in the other room whose peaks were really big compared to my mild ones...but I was starting to feel them.

In fact, I told the nurse I wanted my money back on the epidural because even though from the waist down I was pretty comfortable, there was this Nalgene bottle sized space in the core of me where I could feel intense pain when contractions came on...and I mean intense!

She called the anesthesiologist and then checked me again.

She said, "Well, that's because he's here!"

The drug doc got there just in time to give me a little something to take off the edge.

Mr. Favorite Doctor came running in next, threw on his scrubs, everyone got into position and I pushed. Nothing. I pushed a minute later during the next contraction. Nothing. I pushed a minute later...

Ryan Everett Graves entered the world at 4:41 pm.

I kept asking if he was okay. Mr. Favorite Doctor gave him a good flip-de-do, sucked out his mouth, massaged his belly a second and Ryan started wailing.

Relief all around!

He was pink.

He was crying.

He was moving around like a healthy baby.

He was different than his brother from the very beginning. I needed that.

Mr. Favorite Doctor put him right on my chest and Jason prayed over him.

Em came back shortly after he was born. We had promised her she'd be the first after us to hold her very own baby brother. She loved him right away. I suspect he loved her, too.

So, that's it. That's the story. Except apparently there was a twist...

On Monday after Mr. Favorite Doctor did Ryan's circumcision (which Jason and I both attended) he came to my room to chat and to write up my discharge papers.

He said, "You know, you had natural childbirth after all."

I said, "No I didn't. I was on Pitocin and had an epidural. Not really natural but I wasn't going for that this time."

He said, "Actually, remember when I kept having the nurse up your Pitocin because your contractions weren't that strong? Well apparently the Pitocin was dripping on the floor, not dripping into you. So, you had natural contractions...you were in labor on your own."

And there you have it. What I thought was a small puddle on the floor left by my 15 month old nephew when he had come to visit was really a puddle of Pitocin.

And, one of these days when I have some time, I'll tell you how we picked his name.

Me and Pooh posting my gratitude for epidurals on Facebook...

My newly painted toe nails, thank you, Danar!

Our strong, brave, healthy baby boy

Big sis running in to meet Ryan Everett Graves, with Mr. Favorite Doctor, our Knight in shining armor, behind her.

The 411

2010-09-27T22:49:00.001-06:00

So, I love a good story. I'm not saying this particular story is a good one, but it sure has a good twist. Here's how it all went down:

It was Jason's night to tuck Em into bed. That means that the parent tucking her in usually gets two extra hours of sleep because each of us inevitably passes out in her snuggly bed from sheer exhaustion. The other parent either makes a wise choice with their evening and goes to bed at the same time or chooses to do one of several other things like: dishes, laundry, channel surfing, reading, emails, volunteer work, jewelry making (me, not Jason, of course) or farting around on Facebook.

I'm pretty sure that night I was farting around doing nothing important...but one thing is for sure, I hadn't chosen to go to bed at a decent hour!

I finally crawled into bed by midnight.

Then, two and a half SHORT hours later, I woke up to cramps and contractions.

They were 2 - 3 minutes apart. They weren't bad but they weren't wonderful, either. It wasn't like I could "nap" between contractions. I laid there for about an hour and then told Jason that I thought we'd probably have a baby sometime that day...

I hadn't showered in a couple of days so hopped in the shower at about 3:30 a.m. I hadn't shaved in even longer, so I shaved, too.

I hadn't packed my bag, either. I know. It was August 28th and my due date was August 31st...most people would be packed by then...but I'm not most people...in my mind, as long as I didn't pack my bag, he'd come when I said so...and I wasn't ready to "say so". Silly me...

My girlfriends and I were supposed to enjoy gluten-free treats and pedicures at noon on the 28th so my toe-sies would be cute for delivery...we had to cancel. Let's just say, I hadn't planned ahead, but his room was done, at least...

Anyway, finally at 5:00 a.m. I called our friends, Drew and Gina, and asked if they wanted to wake up at our house. Gina assured me that they did, so once they arrived at 5:45, Jason and I were out the door. Before we left, we told Em that she'd be waking up to Drew and Gina at the house. Yeah, right! She didn't go back to bed...she was WIDE awake!

My contractions were not letting up, still between 2 and a half and 3 minutes apart, but not so intense that I couldn't breathe or talk or walk just fine. The problem is we live 45 minutes from the hospital and I was paranoid with this being my third delivery, of being too far away and having things progress quickly, so we hopped into the car.

On the way I called my Ob/Gyn office, which had an answering service, of course, seeing as how it was the weekend and about 6 o'clock in the morning. I answered a slew of questions and then she informed me that Dr. Who The Heck Knows Who was on call that weekend. It was a third party doctor and I had never heard her name before that moment.

I freaked. Tears started streaming. I told the answering service that I really wanted Mr. Favorite Doctor to at least know I was going to the hospital. She told me to tell the nurses once I got up to the floor. I told myself to breathe.

You see, Mr. Favorite Doctor is the top of the food chain. He's the big cheese in his office and only takes call during the week, during office hours. And, of course, why would my body coordinate natural childbirth during his office hours, right?!

Anyway, we got to the ER to check in and then headed up to the L and D floor. I had drafted texts to about 50 people to let them know we'd be having a baby that day...I waited until most of them were awake on that fine Saturday morning before I hit "send".

...and then we got up to the floor...and the nurse "checked" me...and...

...I was at a "One".

A FREAKING ONE?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

Jason's friend called him for the 411...I gave him the "if looks could kill" look and told him he wasn't allowed to tell anyone I was only at a "One". With Emily I had been at a "One" for a whole month! With Noah I was at a 3 and a half when I walked up to Labor and Delivery and had him 3 hours later.

The nurse was even talking of sending me home. Oh no, baby, I was not going home! I was in labor. I knew I was in labor. But, just so you know, a pregnant lady's definition of labor and the working definition the docs and nurses go by are WAAAAAY different...fyi.

This is where the whole story turns emotional...but this post is entirely too long and I have to go to bed, so I'll have to finish this post when I'm not feeding, pumping, sleeping, or homeschooling...there is more to this story.

Nuf said...

2010-09-17T10:45:00.001-06:00

You know it's true, ladies...

Smitten

2010-09-09T16:20:00.004-06:00

I know I've been MIA...I can't help it. I'm totally smitten and loving it, but dreading it at the same time...Love is complicated. I'm also exhausted getting only 2 and a half hour sleep cycles in each night, but I know that won't last forever. Here are things I love:

I love Ryan's peach fuzz...it's dreamy and soft and all over his sweet shoulders, his back and his sweet cheeks. I just can't explain how much I love his fuzz...
I love that God designed him to fit perfectly with his soft, fuzzy head cupped in my hands, arms together, with his buns resting perfectly at the fold at my elbows...in this position I can smooch his face all over.
I love that my lips fit perfectly between his fuzzy shoulder and his sweet little ear.
I love when I stick my pinky in his hand he actually holds it...his brother never held my hand...ever...
I love that he throws punches like a sailor in a bar brawl when he's hungry...and when he burps and toots, he could easily beat out college boys in a competition.
I love that he smiles and puckers and smirks and pouts when he's dreaming dreams of who knows what.
I love a lot of other things, too, like how much his daddy loves him and wanted to remember his life long friend every day for the rest of his life so blessed him with a great name like Ryan, which means "Joyous King" and a middle name like Everett which means "Brave & Strong".
I love that his big sister is so proud of him and wants to hold him and change his buns and snuggle him...even though it's been a big transition for her.

I'm not going to lie. I could make a list of what I hate, too. It's been hard as hell. I've been on an emotional roller coaster, much like the Corkscrew at Cedar Point in Ohio. As much as I love being Ryan's mommy, (I tell him that multiple times throughout the day, "I'm your mommy! I'm your mommy! I'm your mommy!") I'm riding the fence of loving every single little thing he does and staring at every single little thing he does, hoping and praying that he's not like his big brother...

The stress of little sleep and staring to make sure Ryan is okay every other minute have added up a bit and yesterday, as a result, I pumped a whopping 1/8 of an inch of milk, which equals about a half an ounce. Stress and nursing do not go hand in hand, though ironically, they go hand in hand, so I am trying to consciously chill out.

How's that workin' for me?

Well, I'm just taking one day at a time. I'm enjoying the peach fuzz. I'm trying to sneak in snuggle time with my girl as we all adjust to a new schedule. He and I are reading the Psalms and will head into Proverbs soon. I am taking deep breaths, allowing myself to cry and laugh...and just trusting that the love in my heart for my husband, daughter and son is enough to span a lifetime, but meant to be spent one day at a time.

That, I believe, is the most difficult part of being a mommy...the "one day at a time" part...

Em came into the delivery room very shortly after her brother was born. She held him right after Daddy did.

Exhibit A: Peach Fuzz

Em decorated the house and put up streamers that she wanted me to cut, like at the Chamber of Commerce. Pretty darn cute, I'd say!

He is literally just that sweet!

Em and I were cracking up, commentating what we thought Ryan was thinking...we're going to make a video and post it...stay tuned.

My friend wrapped him up like little bunny foo foo.

The sweetest big sister eh-ver.

Em bought that little monkey for her brother when I first told her I was pregnant. She is pretty much the best big sister in the whole wide world. It's been quite an adjustment for her, but she has been very gracious. I am really, really proud of her. I think she's proud of him, too.

A little tired...

2010-08-30T20:59:00.002-06:00

Ryan Everett
6 lbs 5oz
20 in
Born at 4:41pm on August 28th, 2010
A blessing from God
We just got home today and Adrienne will post more later ~ Jason

(Adrienne here...just got a text from my friend...if you happened to check in a little earlier, we are obviously tired. No, we did not name our son "Noah Everett" as Jason had posted. His name is "Ryan Everett" and he totally stinking ROCKS! I'm excited to share the journey, but as I said earlier, I'm busy staring at our new guy, working on the kink in my neck, and loving every minute of it...I will post later, but just wanted to confirm that we are tired, not crazy, and did not name our son after his big brother...we named him after a different hero...)

2010-08-28T14:06:00.000-06:00

I like most things natural...produce, peanut butter, acupuncture, herbal remedies...but, baby, I'm not gonna lie...I'm loving this epidural! Just hanging out waiting to meet "Baby Nacho".

Redemption?

2010-08-26T21:05:00.005-06:00

So, I guess since I'm due in less than a week it's probably time to have some more belly shots...my friend Gina took these of me on my front porch. The memory on my camera has been full and I've been a bit busy. I guess documenting this pregnancy has been a bit surreal for me.

Anyway...

I've realized that I think I'm afraid to actually meet "Baby Nacho". I remember after Noah died that I wished I could have gone back to when he was in my belly, safe, alive, just the two of us, him tucked away from the cares and curse of the world.

Everyone keeps wondering when this little man will make his grand entrance. I know I should be so excited, but it does not seem real. I obviously don't know the future, but part of my heart wants to keep him all to myself because as long as he's in my belly, at least in my heart, he's okay.

Yeah, it sounds like I have zero faith, hope or trust that God's got a different scenario laid out for this child. Believe me, my faith is way bigger than zero...

People have said things to me over the last several months to the effect of, "God will redeem the situation" or "Oh, it's a boy! What a redeeming story!"

I have some serious thoughts, feelings, and words about the above sentiments. God does not have to "redeem" anything. By us having another boy doesn't mean God is "redeeming" our loss of another little boy. What if this one was a daughter? Would that mean He was only sorta redeeming it? What if we had never been pregnant again? Would that mean redemption wasn't written for us?

Redemption or redeem is defined: to buy back; to win back; to free from what distresses or harms; to change for the better; to repair or restore; to atone for or expiate as in an error

God did not make an error when He made Noah the way He did. And, another baby boy will not win back Noah's life. And as far as "buying back" or "winning back"...my heart never ran away...even though I don't always understand or agree with the way God runs the Universe, I totally trust Him and trust that the bigger picture He is able to see is much more glorious than the one I see, even with eyes of faith...so no, I don't need "buying back" because I never ran.

God is amazing and so difficult to understand at the same time! I believe whether we ever had another child or not, Redemption, in its true definition, has already happened in our lives. It is for every single person on the face of the earth from the beginning until the end who will choose to believe. It was planned for since day one in time, and it occurred about 2000 years ago through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. He is our Redeemer.

And this is a different boy, not in place of the last one, but another one, a different one, with his own story...a story that will be written one day at a time because of God's grace...and for God's glory alone.

Trivial pursuit...

2010-08-25T15:41:00.007-06:00

After Noah died I could never imagine myself thinking or acting on anything that didn't have eternal value or a world changing after effect.

Engaging in the day to day was a difficult task, not only physically but emotionally and mentally. I had difficulty having trite conversations or giving a rip about petty pursuits...yet at the same time, because I live on earth, I would have to embrace those pursuits like laundry, grocery shopping, filling the car with gas, even dusting gigantic creatures out from behind long neglected furniture or caring about the PTA.

I hated it! I resented that day to day existence didn't have more of a "POW" or "PUNCH!" I still had to make dinner and my kid was still dead.

Continuing on, not "moving on" or "getting over it", but continuing on is one of the most difficult steps of grief. I'm no grief expert, but I sure as hell know what I'm talking about when it comes to my own grief. Sometimes, in order to get through another day without the person you loved, you just have to not care what the heck anyone else thinks and allow your heart and mind to be somewhere else...somewhere trivial...somewhere not centered on loss and despair...because that will always be there.

Going there may cause feelings of guilt, but there is no ONE WAY to grieve...and I personally advocate escapism when it comes to grief...and I could sure use a dose.

Grief sucks because as long as we've lost someone we loved, we'll always grieve. We will never NOT grieve. Even with time, which for me personally has helped bring some healing, we will still miss those people...wondering.

No, I won't and don't spend every single day missing Noah. But there hasn't been a day in 4 years that I have not thought about him. Days and dates come and go that hold significance for the short 7 months he spent on this earth...

One day in particular was the day Noah was admitted to the hospital...for the rest of his life. It was August 2nd, 2006. Four years later, on August 2nd, Jason and I spent the day with friends we love like family...in a hospital here in Colorado, where we all said goodbye to someone we loved very much.

And yet, somehow in the days leading up to the guys' surgeries, we were living life just like the next guy...dropping Em off at camp, surprising her with a "TWEEN" room makeover, running here and there, nesting for "Baby Nacho".

And then life stopped. Literally. At least for a lot of people who loved Ryan.

And then the part that sucked is that life started to continue...but for us, just as it has affected our lives since Jason's dad's death, Noah's death and now Ryan's death, life will include some trivial, but it won't be trivial. There will be a "norm", but life will be anything but "normal".

Just like the tag line for the retreats my non-profit organization hosts states, we will "find the extraordinary in the normal".

Picking up Em from camp...she informed us it was the first and last time she'd be going there.
(So, it did not go quite as we expected...)

Em's favorite color is aqua...somehow I caved and decided to paint her room that color...she is completely OVER pink and so INTO aqua.

Above is a 200+ year old sleigh bed I slept in when I was a girl (less than 200 yrs ago, of course). I found "TWEEN" bedding that incorporated all the colors she's currently "into".

Em and Lady loved the room and she, at 8, now thinks she's pretty old and cool!

And, for whatever reason, this hideous thing made it into the room because she was given a dollar at a garage sale to buy whatever she wanted...I think when I was a girl I had glass swans with liquid in them and paper mache clowns from Mexico...sorry, Mom! What a decorating NIGHTMARE!

Lady loved the new look. She pretty much just loves Em and likes to snuggle her and follow her places.

For those who recall, I painted those glow in the dark rings and circles for her original pink little girl room. They still glow so I'm not touching those.

That's Em's little "vestibule" in her room where her mirror is now face height so she can apply clear lip gloss.

And those are 50-60 year old baseball mitts that were my dad's when he was a boy...they are a glimpse into the trivial I've been working on since, in the midst of all the last month has brought our way, we still have something very monumental and extraordinary on the horizon...and it's the anticipation of a sweet baby boy's arrival into this world. I'll let you see what I'm doing with them in another post.

TIME

2010-08-19T17:37:00.003-06:00

The "Fall of Man" was for sure, by far, hand's down the crappiest day since the dawn of TIME.

I know there have been terrible, horrific, life-altering days throughout the history of the world that have affected more people than just the first two people loved wholeheartedly by the Creator of the Universe, but as far as changing the whole course of history...that day sucked, for sure!

I mean, really, right?! Oh, poor Adam and Eve! Yeah, they had it so rough, right?! I feel really sorry for them. God made them...in His own image...showed the vastness of His love by giving them every good thing He had just creatively made in The Garden, save ONE. We all know that genocide kills more people than Adam and Eve, and besides, they left The Garden with their lives!

Yes, they did leave The Garden alive...but now they would surely know the effects of death.

I know to the naked eye, the fact that Adam and Eve weren't zapped with a lightning bolt and fried to a crisp for their disobedience makes some think the effects of their choice were not all that grave...or that their consequences were simply felt by them...make no mistake, it was a grave decision...and we still feel the repercussions.

One repercussion of The Fall, I believe, is TIME.

We live in TIME. We measure it. We function within TIME. For us, those living here on Earth currently who can read this blog, TIME is all we know. Unless we've been to Heaven and returned, we cannot fathom the difference between life measured in ETERNITY and life lived out in TIME.

Part of The Fall is that we live in the tangible yet are expected to hope in a faith we cannot see but somehow are able feel.

Don't get me wrong, TIME can be great! The anticipation of an exciting event like a birth or marriage, a vacation or TIME spent with people you love...that kind of TIME can be so beautiful and fulfilling.

And then, of course, the passage of TIME can be trying sometimes, even excruciating. For instance WAITING for something you really want, like a kid waiting for their birthday or Christmas...the place where waiting and patience collide.

I've read in God's word that "life is but a breath". I have gathered from His word that God functions in a different realm of TIME than I can see or grasp. I have experienced that life is short, yet losing someone we love, regardless of how much TIME we did get to spend with them, as long as we live on this Earth, that amount of TIME will never be enough.

Whether it's 93 years, 49 years, 34 years, 20 years, 7 months, or an hour, because we live within the boundaries of TIME, it will always hurt for those of us left over.

It's no secret that since losing Noah my perspective on life and death has radically changed. The same is true about TIME. When Jesus said He'd be back "soon", I know He meant it...even though according to our measurement that was, like 2000 years ago! So, I have to allow my heart to trust that "soon" to God is measured differently than "soon" to us, here and now.

And one day, when we are able to see more clearly because we will be with God, I imagine we won't even have to measure TIME or look back and wonder why then, why so soon?

We will be in ETERNITY, free from the effects of The Fall and with all the TIME in the world.

...until then, even though we hope, we grieve in TIME.

Ryan and Chad's story...

2010-08-12T22:00:00.003-06:00

I wanted to share this link to our friends' story...we really have no words. We just love our friends and grieve deeply with them, while at the same time, we will stand with Chad and his family as they fight to live abundantly and live with hope.

The strangest thing...

2010-08-10T15:08:00.002-06:00

Literally, as soon as I decided I shouldn't travel within my last 3 weeks of pregnancy, my Braxton Hicks and contractions stopped...more or less. Actually, I took Em and some of her friends from South Dakota to the pool and swam several laps...it totally helped calm the belly down, and was quite refreshing.

I know I just needed a chance to let my heart and mind and body take a break from the ache I feel. It's not that I stopped caring about the recent circumstances or our grieving friends, I just realized that Big Mama needed a little self care, too.

And, just as a heads up for those who have shot me messages and texts wondering, my appointment last Friday went well and the sweet little guy is head down but NOTHING else is going on! Thank You, Lord! And, thank you, son, for being obedient to both me and your daddy...Jason gave my belly a firm talking to before he left for South Dakota. He told "Nacho" that he needs to chill for at least two more weeks. Two of my girlfriends are coming over tomorrow to help me power nest the nursery and organize my brain/life a little. And, Jason is going to sand and paint the crib and changing table on Saturday.

And, my little sister, who is due the same day, and I are really trying to somehow control the Universe and coordinate our labor. No pressure, right?! No, but it would be convenient for us to deliver around the same time for our doctor's sake, our parents, visitors, etc...I'll keep you posted on just how much control I have over the Universe...(don't hold your breath...I've never been able to control it in the past...)

We still don't have a name for our little man, but for a while have been considering a few favorites. I guess we'll just have to meet him and see what he looks like he should be named...meanwhile, I affectionately refer to him as "Nacho". This WILL NOT STICK post-par tum, FYI! So, don't even try! :)

It seems surreal that Jason will soon hold another son in his arms. He's such a great dad and I know his son will more than want to emulate his daddy's life. (Actually, I just got an "Amen" from my belly when I wrote that, so...there you go...)

Emily has asked to be the third one after Jason and me, to hold her little brother. I told her absolutely! She's pretty excited about it. Of course she won't be in the delivery room with us, but hopefully, if the time of day is conducive, she'll be right outside the door.

A lot of people have asked if we'll have a "Sip and See" or "Meet and Greet" after "Nacho" is born. I'm thinking since I haven't had a margarita since I got pregnant that a "Sip and See" will be totally appropriate :) I'll let you know! Wink, Wink!

Thank you all for your prayers and continued support of our friends, The Arnolds, of South Dakota, Colorado and New York. We love them all very much and, as Jason wrote on his Facebook page, will miss Ryan every day of our lives. If you don't know the story or want to know how you may help, go here.

Apparently...

2010-08-05T20:35:00.004-06:00

Apparently...stress brings about contractions...or at least mega-Braxton Hicks.

Apparently...even though I have been trained throughout my life in different leadership settings to appear calm in extremely stressful situations, my body wasn't trained as well.

Apparently...the European pregnant ladies know a little something because a half a glass of wine (don't judge me...) during false labor shuts it right down...unless, of course, it's not false!

I don't have time to go early. I am 36 weeks and though I know that next week marks "full-term", I still have stuff to do...plus, Jason will be out of town...and holding Em's hand in the delivery room just isn't the vision I have for welcoming this new little man into our family.

I go in tomorrow for a routine appointment. Hopefully it will be underwhelming in its findings...

I still have a nursery to decorate along with a good, thorough cleaning of this pigsty we are currently calling "home"...oh, and I haven't packed my bag and I haven't bought newborn diapers in four and a half years!

But I don't want to do any of that. I want to sit and snuggle my kid and pat her little puppy, Lady, and cry because my heart is so sad.

You know, it would be nice to have material other than grief and death to blog about but, apparently, that's not my lot in blog world.

Death sucks. I'll say it again. Death sucks. It doesn't suck for the one that has died because knowing Christ and meeting the Creator of the Universe is epic and quite impossible to explain or conceive on earth. Death sucks for those left behind, or as I say, "It sucks for the leftovers."

I've said it more than once and I'll say it again. Life on earth outside of God's presence is not where we were originally designed to be. We all, though, only know this side of Heaven (at least if you are reading this and haven't been there and back lately...) so, of course we try to make this life great and make the most of it. The only problem is, we forget that living on earth is as close to Hell as we should ever want to be. Earth is a fallen world.

Experiencing love and laughter, joy and hope on this earth is a sweet, sweet thing. God would have that every one of His created could know those beautiful glimpses. That's what I need to hold onto...the reality that goodness here on earth is, quite possibly, a glimpse into life in God's physical presence, yet mine to enjoy here and now...a taste.

Separation in death from those we have known and loved is a glimpse of the Fall of Man. It absolutely should hurt and cause us great sorrow.

Though, in knowing Christ, somehow in His miraculous strength, unfathomable to us, we are also able to have hope...

"Hope, however, that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has?" Romans 8:24

We hope for Heaven. We hope for the day that we will walk with Christ, tangibly, physically. We hope for the reunion of those who have gone before us.

I am just so grateful that I have hope in the midst of life on earth...and in the midst of grief.

I can't imagine my life without hope... or without hope in the One who has given us life.

(Now, for my appointment tomorrow...I hope this little man knows he's totally grounded if he thinks it's acceptable to arrive any earlier than is convenient for his mama!!!! Doesn't he know I have a lot going on?! #$%^&*)

Exemplary

2010-08-02T22:27:00.003-06:00

Ry, I can't write now but I just want to thank you for your profound example of life and love you lived on this earth...

I can't begin to explain how much Jason and so many others will miss you...

You were a rock and a truly amazing man for your young years...

Thank you...we love you and miss you a ton already...

We promise, we will make this life count!

Please pray...

2010-08-01T15:24:00.003-06:00

Please pray for our friends, Ryan and Shannon Arnold and Chad and Cristine Arnold. Long story short, Ryan donated 2/3 of his healthy liver to his brother Chad on Thursday for a live liver transplant. Both guys were recuperating. Last night Ryan had to be readmitted to the ICU after being in code blue and is in very critical care.

Their Caring Bridge site is:

http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/ryanandchadarnold

These two guys Jason grew up with in South Dakota. They are not only friends but are like family to us. They were both in our wedding. Their wives are my friends. We love them all very, very much and our prayers for them are not ceasing!

I will leave you with this:

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High
will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress,
my God, in whom I trust."

Surely he will save you from the fowler's snare and from the deadly pestilence.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
nor the plague that destroys at midday.
A thousand may fall at your side, ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you.
You will only observe with your eyes and see the punishment of the wicked.

If you make the Most High your dwelling - even the Lord, who is my refuge - then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.
For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;
they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
You will tread upon the lion and the cobra;
you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

"Because he loves me," says the Lord, "I will rescue him;
I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
He will call upon me, and I will answer him;
I will be with him in trouble,
I will deliver him and honor him.
With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation."

- Psalm 91

*All updates will be on the guys' Caring Bridge site. I will not be posting. I just wanted to ask you all for your prayers.