"Goodnight Moon!"

On August 28th, our son Ryan turned 2 years old.

Dad was out of town so we celebrated officially once he was home that following weekend with family and friends and sort of allergen-friendly cupcakes...and balloons.  Lots and lots of balloons.

When Emily was 6 months old, we chucked her pacifier to the curb.  Not literally since that's littering, but you know what I mean.  But at 6 months, she didn't remember a thing, so it was a non-issue.

Well, fast forward and enter baby brother and mom's "Advanced Gestation," aka, mid-life pregnancy/crisis, and let's just say, I threw other things to the curb, like, say, rules on pacifiers and rigid sleep training and all the modern rules, like giving a rip what any book might say!  Yes, I "sleep trained" Ryan, but not quite as militantly as I had Emily.  And I've fed him very clean, which I didn't do as well with Em, but all of these things are partially a knee-jerk result of the 8 year gap, which is really only a 4 year gap, if you know what I mean...

What I'm sayin' is:  when your big brother dies, it both works in your favor and detriment as to how on earth your parents may "wing it" and raise you, accordingly.

So, ANYWAY, as far as a pacifier goes, I chose not to get my panties in a wad about it and let Ryan suck, suck, suck away.  At least until Daddy returned shortly after his 2nd birthday.

A reader here a while back, but I don't recall who, gave me the idea in the first place!  (Thank *you*!)

I prepped Ryan for about a month...

Me:  Ry, you are almost 2 years old and so that means you'll be BIG.  This also means you won't be sucking your pacifier any longer.

Ry:  (blank stare...while sucking...)

Me:  And, so, on your 2nd birthday, we are going to tie your pacifier to some balloons and send it to the Moon.  Every night when we go to bed you can look out the window and tell the Moon and your pacifier, "Goodnight!"

Ry:  (sucking voraciously...staring with possible, no, probable, comprehension...)

Me:  So, it'll be so great, Ry!  We'll wave bye-bye as it goes up, up, up to the Moon and you'll be BIG and won't need it anymore!

Ry:  (eyes wide as saucers now...)

Now, let me preface this to say that one of my dear, dear friends who also lost a child encouraged me as I let Ry suck away for 2 years, "OH!  Don't take away the one thing that brings him comfort!"  And that's exactly what I did.  I didn't lose sleep or worry about it, because, of course, there's always braces, right?!

But there's more to the story...

You see, Ryan, our son, is named after his Daddy's good friend, Dr. Ryan Arnold.  And Dr. Ryan Arnold was an exceptional orthodontist.  And Dr. Ryan Arnold would have been our kids' orthodontist, but he passed away living selflessly.  The week before Dr. Ryan Arnold passed away, he examined Emily's teeth and gave us a loose plan of how we'd move forward with her bite and such...and, since I was pregnant and he never actually SAW our Ryan's mouth, he left me with these words, "Ade, don't let your kid suck a pacifier...but if you do, I'll fix it later..."

And then he smiled his great smile, which, incidentally, was straight and white...

Nice.

Nice, except Jason and I are taking "Financial Peace University" right now and let's just say several thousand dollars for Ryan's braces could, indeed, be used for his education one day, or towards a vacation for me and the hubster, or supporting a hospital in Ethiopia, or, or, or, I don't know, maybe getting out of debt!?  But that's another post...

So, anyway, back to "My Mom Rocks," and whatever it was I was saying...

Oh yeah.  So, here are some pics of the day Ryan's pacifier went to the Moon...the day he became a BIG boy...the day he saved us a few thousand dollars, or at least, the day his mom had peace in her heart that she was honoring a dear friend and finally taking the expert opinion of a professional.

RIP Pacifier.

Prepping Ryan that sending his pacifier to the Moon is going to be fantastic!  AKA, tickles with Daddy.

Running around at his birthday picnic, oblivious to what is to come...

Sharing a second birthday with his cousin, just days apart....

Daddy wearing his hat always in memory of Dr. Ryan Arnold...

The birthday picnic went a little late so the next morning we gathered what balloons remained...

Ryan willingly giving over his pacifier...

...sorta...let's just say he wanted one last suck...

...a suck that lasted a while...until the release.

The reality set in as he watched his pacifier set soar into the western skies.

It's been a week and a half now.  Naps on day one and two were a bit rough, but he has adjusted beautifully.  His teeth haven't straightened out, and he does point to his teeth and tongue when I put him down to sleep, but then he says, "Goodnight Moon!" and all is well.

So, let's face it:  we all have "pacifiers."  If you were to take to heart the sentiments of a selfless man, who was saying more to me than just the obvious, what "pacifier" would you give up?

* We miss you, Dr. Ryan Arnold, and think of you and your beautiful family, every. single. day.  xoxox

What's in a name?

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!

Remembering...

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.

Hair's the dealio...

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!