Love This...

Note: it late and I am certain this will make little to no sense in the morning. My apologies. 

The problem with baking treats is that you are guaranteed to eat some of those treats. I have developed my own mathematical equation today. For every 100 treats made you will eat three...so that means that I am inevitably going to eat 15 treats today. And then I will be sick. But it will be a good sick. A really really good sick.

I have been baking all day. And while baking I have been listening to great Christmas music. And now that the semester is OVER, finals are history, my grad school application is submitted and the wedding I was baking for is finished - now I am free to think. Think of something other than school and stress and to-do lists.

And sometimes thinking gets me in trouble.

Sometimes thinking leads to feelings - big overwhelming feelings that feel like they are crushing me. And that usually leads to memories- good and lighthearted, dark and threatening. That sounds a bit melodramatic... I mean, the word threatening is a pretty big word.

Not one you should just throw around.

And yet, I am choosing to let it stay. You see, when I am alone, thinking of the last year or eight - those memories can be just that - absolutely threatening.

People say that grief comes in waves. And I can attest to that. Sometimes I can be moving along just fine - happy and at peace with life right where I am at - and then WHAM - out of nowhere I am knocked over by it.

In the beginning it wasn't even waves. It was just like the ocean. I didn't even have time to come up for air before the next one knocked me over. I remember one day where I literally felt as if I was going to die. It was so big and dark and overwhelming and I just thought I wouldn't make it through this. But that ends. I can promise that. That passes. I remember several days where I felt "carried." As if some ONE was lifting me and carrying. Those are sacred, beautiful memories.  

I get emails and calls from women going through the same thing. And that's why I am writing about this. I don't necessarily love spilling my agony on the www. However, I know what its like to feel alone in it all. I spent six and a half years carrying a secret alone...without a soul on this Earth to confide in (well, I choose that part.) That's why I am and will be sharing my part of this story - and although I don't intend for this to take over my blog, I hope to still share recipes and stories of my funny little guys, I will be sharing my story here.

The waves still come  - but they are smaller, definitely less threatening, and more and more infrequent. That's the good news. It won't last forever. 

What works for me? Step into the pain. I spent a long time trying to run from that kind of hurt. But believe me...like the bill collector it will always find you. Lean into the pain. Sit in the pain, feel it, and then move on. That's what I do now. I have a good cry, mourn for what's lost, what will never be, and then get up and clean my kitchen...because after a long day of baking, my kitchen definitely needs it.

Santa

Been seeing a lot of this lately...Ethan has fallen in LOVE with this Santa hat and insists on wearing it everywhere. He wears it to school everyday, out shopping, and to bed each night. Getting it off his head for church is a major accomplishment. I have to say, he does look pretty cute it it.

The Three Trees

A moment of clarity.

I had a really long drive today. I drove to Utah solo. It was the first time I have made that drive by myself.  It seems like this is a year full of firsts. And it gave a lot of time alone with my thoughts.

Alone.

That's a word I have had to really really face this year.  I have always been a "people" person. As a child, my definition of misery, was being forced to play alone. And if you wanted to really torture me force me to sit in my room...it felt like solitary confinement.

This year I have spent more time alone than any other time in my life. For the last seven years my house always seemed full of my children and the children I tended.  Having my boys in school and away on visitation two days a week has been difficult. Holidays and special occasions have been quiet and lonely.

And never have I felt more alone than I did after all the losses earlier this year. I remember when the realization hit me...that I was now the only one left. The last remaining member in my entire family.That day it felt like my already broken heart just shattered. It was devastating.

Today when I was driving I saw the most amazing sight. I saw this beauitful tree standing alone in the middle of a desert that stretched on for miles and miles. Not another tree in sight. And yet here this tree stood...green and strong.

Instantly I was reminded of a favorite scripture...

And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall."
Helaman 5:12

 I have felt like that little tree for so so long. Not sure if I've ever mentioned this, but when I was little I lived with 5 families. And my dream, the idea I lived for, was that one day I would no longer be the lone tree. But part of a forest.

I never imagined this for myself...that 20 years later I would still be the lone tree. But isn't that life...we all have things we'd have never imagined.

As I looked at the beautiful little tree, standing all alone in the desolation, I was impressed with the idea that no matter if I am in the desert alone or in the center of the largest most lush forest - it does not matter. I just need to have my roots firmly rooted. That thought brought a flood of conviction rushing over me.

Me + God  = Enough. It may sound cheesy but I KNOW that its true. I have seen it. I have experienced my own "shafts in the whirlwind," complete with hail and storms and probably a few tornadoes. And like that tree...I am still standing. I may have a few leaves missing. Possibly a broken branch or two, but standing.

I miss my boys. I will get to see them Sunday! The only good part about being away from them so much is how much more I appreciate those two little faces. And when we get home I am going to show them the picture I bought for their room. "Three Trees" It reminded me of us. And I am going to tell them all that their momma learned while driving through the desert.

Tyler-isms

Word of the Day.

Genius-er

"Mom you are even "geniuser" than Sally.

The sad thing is I love his little funny words so much that I don't want to correct him. I will be sad when he uses proper English.

Dear Tyler

Dear Tyler,

Oh how I love you!! I was thinking today that I would love to go back and just relive a day when you were a baby. Maybe I would pick a day when you were 4 months old. And you know what I would do? Absolutely nothing. Not one thing. I would not go grocery shopping. I would not organize the cabinets or refinish a dresser. I would not read or cook or clean or shop or talk on the phone or any of the millions of things that distract – Tyler I would spend the whole day loving you.  I would hold you and absorb all the sweet baby smells I could. I would rock you and play with you and I would spend my whole day trying to absolutely enjoy every instant I have with you.

Or maybe I would pick a day in your second year. I would take you to the park and I would marvel at your raspy voice, the way you walk, or the drool that was such a big part of year two. I wouldn’t read or talk to the other moms. I would just absorb every second of two-year-old Tyler that I could. 

Then Tyler, you know what struck me? One day, a few years from now, when you are being baptized, or going to scout camp I am going to think back and wish I could just have one day with 5-year-old Tyler. One day to walk you to school, hold your chubby- sweaty hand and talk about words that rhyme. One day to play the guessing game, one day to listen as you tell me all about your day – your universe. One day you will not want me to cuddle you at night. One day you won’t beg me to lie in bed and listen to your music with you. One day you won’t think that everything I say is so very cleaver. And one day, I will want more than anything to relive a day in the Fall of 2010 with my Tyler boy.

And so I think I am going to do that in advance. I am going to give myself that present early. I am going to take a day to just enjoy you. To listen and not worry about what I will make for dinner. To play toys as long as you want without feeling guilty for the homework or housework or any work that is being neglected.  Because if there is anything I have learned in my life its that you and Ethan are the most important parts of my world.  And that nothing will ever compare to the way I feel for you two. Ever. 

Love

Mommy

The Glass Castle

This is one of those books you hate to love.
“I WAS SITTING IN a taxi, wondering if I had overdressed for the evening, when I looked out the window and saw Mom rooting through a Dumpster,” begins The Glass Castle. Jeannette Wells tells us of her unusual (and very tramatic) childhood growing up with her brilliant yet alcoholic father and her artsy non-nurturing mother. As the book progresses I find myself amazed as each of the children beat the odds. It is a poignant story that no matter your own personal childhood you can find something in these stories of tragedy, humor, resilience, and triumph.

Amazon.com Review

Amazon.com Review

Jeannette Walls's father always called her "Mountain Goat" and there's perhaps no more apt nickname for a girl who navigated a sheer and towering cliff of childhood both daily and stoically. In The Glass Castle, Walls chronicles her upbringing at the hands of eccentric, nomadic parents--Rose Mary, her frustrated-artist mother, and Rex, her brilliant, alcoholic father. To call the elder Walls's childrearing style laissez faire would be putting it mildly. As Rose Mary and Rex, motivated by whims and paranoia, uprooted their kids time and again, the youngsters (Walls, her brother and two sisters) were left largely to their own devices. But while Rex and Rose Mary firmly believed children learned best from their own mistakes, they themselves never seemed to do so, repeating the same disastrous patterns that eventually landed them on the streets. Walls describes in fascinating detail what it was to be a child in this family, from the embarrassing (wearing shoes held together with safety pins; using markers to color her skin in an effort to camouflage holes in her pants) to the horrific (being told, after a creepy uncle pleasured himself in close proximity, that sexual assault is a crime of perception; and being pimped by her father at a bar). Though Walls has well earned the right to complain, at no point does she play the victim. In fact, Walls' removed, nonjudgmental stance is initially startling, since many of the circumstances she describes could be categorized as abusive (and unquestioningly neglectful). But on the contrary, Walls respects her parents' knack for making hardships feel like adventures, and her love for them--despite their overwhelming self-absorption--resonates from cover to cover.

Melted a Mothers Heart

Little Ethan has begun reciting this to me lately. Apparently he heard it somewhere and decided that it is his "sonnet" to his mom. And I couldn't be more flattered.

Doubt thou the stars are fire;

Doubt that the sun doth move;

Doubt truth to be a liar;

But never doubt I love

-William Shakespeare-
 

(Found this picture on an old zip drive today...oh i love those little faces.)

And then there was one...

So its official. I am now the oldest woman on Earth. I have officially sent both my children off to school and the only thing left for me to do is finish up my will and wait..... I know, I know, maybe I am being just a little dramatic.
Honestly, it went very well and considering the shenanigans Ethan and I had last year I am very excited by the idea that it is nearly noon and I haven't received one call from the school.  A modern day miracle.
The kids were so so excited for school. Take a look at this picture...can you just see their enthusiasm?

Yeah. Basically, I am thinking they need to get entered into some contest for being "Exceptionally Photogenic." I was doing all my positive comments to combat the "This is not going to be fun," "I hate school, "What if they laugh at me," "Why are they looking at me" "It's hot" "It smells" kind of complaints coming out of Mr Ethan's mouth. I am sure the parents nearby got a good laugh hearing me say "Being hot is fun, " and "Stinky smells are exciting," and "They are looking at how dashing you are..."
But we did it. And Ethan made it into the school with no one carrying him...which is definitely an improvement...and so I am very very pleased.

So now its just me here at home... well, me and the three crickets I just found in the bathroom.Next week I start a very full semester...and for what feels like the 100th time in this last year... the boys and are on to a brand new stage in our lives. And although it is different and a tad scary, I am so excited to see where it will take us!

So while looking on an old Flash drive I found a STASH of old kid videos...and they made me smile.

Science Center

We took a trip, and I mean an ALL day trip to the Science Center. We were there when the doors opened and we left at closing. We left happy but exhausted. Here are some photos of the fun!

Sarah's Key

Sarah's Key
by: Tatiana de Rosnay

Synopsis:

Paris, July 1942: Sarah, a ten year-old girl, is brutally arrested with her family by the French police in the Vel’ d’Hiv’ roundup, but not before she locks her younger brother in a cupboard in the family's apartment, thinking that she will be back within a few hours.

Paris, May 2002: On Vel’ d’Hiv’s 60th anniversary, journalist Julia Jarmond is asked to write an article about this black day in France's past. Through her contemporary investigation, she stumbles onto a trail of long-hidden family secrets that connect her to Sarah. Julia finds herself compelled to retrace the girl's ordeal, from that terrible term in the Vel d'Hiv', to the camps, and beyond. As she probes into Sarah's past, she begins to question her own place in France, and to reevaluate her marriage and her life.
Tatiana de Rosnay offers us a brilliantly subtle, compelling portrait of France under occupation and reveals the taboos and silence that surround this painful episode.

This is one of the best books I have read in a really long time. It is heart wrenching, and tear-jerking, can't put it down type of a book. I just cannot fathom the hatred and the injustice that the Jews suffered at this time in history. This is one of those books that I keep thinking about even though I finished it 2 days ago.
So, bottom line is...read this book, you won't be sorry you did. I LOVED IT!!

What A Difference A Year Can Make

I found my 2009 planner this week. Before you errupt into laughter that I actually own a planner -something I vowed I never would never own - know that last year was a chaotic year. I was actually enrolled in three different schools. Yes, you read correctly. I was at CAC, Rio Salado, and Seven Health Care (and for about three weeks I was in all three of them AT THE SAME TIME), and on top of that I had IVF appointments that averaged 3 visits a week and therapy appointments both group and personal for three members of the family.  The chaos of it all resulted in a carpool child getting left alone for almost an hour - after which I bawled in my car and then proceeded to drive directly to Target and buy a planner. 

But I digress, this post is not about why my life is chaotic, I was writing about how much has changed in a year for me...well for all of us. If emotional whiplash exists...I think I may have it. I am shocked at how completely different my life is just one year later.When looking at the events of last summer memories came flooding back. 

Last year, I was frantically taking all of my nursing school prerequisites. I was thinking and hoping and praying for admittance into Nursing school. I was giving myself twice daily injections in the stomach and hip - hoping for the baby I had been waiting on for so many years. I was optimistic that treatment was "sticking" and that maybe, just maybe, Preston was in recovery. That the events of the past were nightmares that would fade in time...one day to be distant memories of "trials" that made me who I am. 

And yet here I sit a year later. A new perspective. Failed IVF looks like a blessing. A longer, more expensive, and definitely more challenging road to Graduation feels like my "path." I am in a new home - and once again a new school. I am single...not only adjusting the loss of my husband but also a huge network of extended family. 

 I look back at Andrea of 2009 and part of me wishes I could warn her. Wishes I could give her a glimpse of what will await her in a few short months. Do something to help soften the pain I know will strike.  And then I realize...she doesn't need a warning. She will do just fine...she will not only make it through the darkness but come out on the other side intact.

I can see clearly, maybe for the first time, how all the pieces were in place. I can see the huge network of support that had been gathering to soften my fall. I can see years and years of preparation that came together at the perfect time.

And I can literally see and feel the love - the love of my Father - who knows my heart. And it brings immense peace to me today. I once again, feel assured that we'll be okay. That healing will come. That my boys will be compensated - they will have all they need. That I am never alone and that my future - all of our futures - are in His Hands. And that idea makes me smile.

 Lynsey and I spent the weekend here. It was blissful.
I have been very blessed to know Lynsey. We met six years ago in Idaho...and have been friends ever since. There are a million things to love about this girl - but the one I love the most is her heart. She is one of the most thoughtful and loving women I know. Her gifts were the first received when I found out I was pregnant and when I found out I wasn't.  She has witnessed and supported me through some of the toughest experiences of my life. And to top it off...she's hilarious. When we get together we seem to spend most of our time laughing or crying.
This weekend was no exception...I had a wonderful time!
I made a list of words that will always help me remember the fun....what can I say - I am a woman who loves a good list.

Keywords: Sleeping In, Melting Pot, Boom Dip, Poolside, Music, Inception, Best Friend, Birthday, Sprinkles, Orson Welles, Dampness, Jugular, Silver Eyeshadow, Teddy Bears with Teeth, Cowboy Ciao, Fanny Pack, Movie Theater Photo Shoots, Pizzookie, Lynsey's American Flag Shorts, 115 and A Vaseline Face.

 Happy Birthday Lynsey!!!

Quote of the Day

That which we obtain too easily, we esteem too lightly.

Thomas Paine

Read this today. And felt inspired. It was literally my mantra while I did my hours of statistics homework.

The Help

The Help 

By Kathryn Stockett

From The Washington Post's Book World/washingtonpost.com Reviewed by Sybil Steinberg

Southern whites' guilt for not expressing gratitude to the black maids who raised them threatens to become a familiar refrain. But don't tell Kathryn Stockett because her first novel is a nuanced variation on the theme that strikes every note with authenticity. In a page-turner that brings new resonance to the moral issues involved, she spins a story of social awakening as seen from both sides of the American racial divide.

Newly graduated from Ole Miss with a degree in English but neither an engagement ring nor a steady boyfriend, Eugenia "Skeeter" Phelan returns to her parents' cotton farm in Jackson. Although it's 1962, during the early years of the civil rights movement, she is largely unaware of the tensions gathering around her town.

Skeeter is in some ways an outsider. Her friends, bridge partners and fellow members of the Junior League are married. Most subscribe to the racist attitudes of the era, mistreating and despising the black maids whom they count on to raise their children. Skeeter is not racist, but she is naive and unwittingly patronizing. When her best friend makes a political issue of not allowing the "help" to use the toilets in their employers' houses, she decides to write a book in which the community's maids -- their names disguised -- talk about their experiences.

Fear of discovery and retribution at first keep the maids from complying, but a stalwart woman named Aibileen, who has raised and nurtured 17 white children, and her friend Minny, who keeps losing jobs because she talks back when insulted and abused, sign on with Skeeter's risky project, and eventually 10 others follow.

Aibileen and Minny share the narration with Skeeter, and one of Stockett's accomplishments is reproducing African American vernacular and racy humor without resorting to stilted dialogue. She unsparingly delineates the conditions of black servitude a century after the Civil War.

The murders of Medgar Evers and Martin Luther King Jr. are seen through African American eyes, but go largely unobserved by the white community. Meanwhile, a room "full of cake-eating, Tab-drinking, cigarette-smoking women" pretentiously plan a fundraiser for the "Poor Starving Children of Africa." In general, Stockett doesn't sledgehammer her ironies, though she skirts caricature with a "white trash" woman who has married into an old Jackson family. Yet even this character is portrayed with the compassion and humor that keep the novel levitating above its serious theme.

Copyright 2009, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved. 

Loved it! This is a good one folks. The book is set in 1960's Mississippi and it follows the lives of the "Help" or maids that wait on upper class white families. The characters are so real that you are certain they are based on people you know. The dialogue was amazing and to my embarrassment I was laughing aloud and catching stares in public places. It's a good book to remind the reader of perspective and "the big picture. I left this book thinking...which in my opinion, is the sign of a very good read.

Upside down

Saw this today. So fun...yet so confusing. How long do you think you would have to live there till it would stop freaking you out?

Notice the bench upside down on the roof? Or the wheelbarrow?

Got me thinking about two quotes that I have had on my mind lately...

 “Life is full of ups and downs. The trick is to enjoy the ups and have courage during the downs.” 
"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed.

• Most putts don't drop. Most beef is tough. Most children grow up to be just people. Most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration. Most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.
  
  
  
  
  

  Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed.

  
  The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."
  -President Gordon B.Hinckley

  
  I have been trying (not sure if I am quite succeeding) but trying nonetheless to enjoy, not just muddle through life. Especially right now. I don't want to look back and feel like I missed my 27th year of life. Or Ethan's 7th year. Or Tyler's 5th. I want to enjoy and learn and THRIVE each day that God gives me. 
  And in a lot of ways that house is me. Something that once looked so "normal" is upside down...for the world to see.
  Right now things are different. Really different. Really confusing. And like I wondered above I think most days I am "freaking out." Trying to get my bearings and not feel "upside down."
  But as I was looking at that house I realized that instead of trying to make sense of it...spending all my time trying to make it right side up again. Maybe I should just enjoy it. Recognize its uniqueness and enjoy my stay. 
  We won't live there forever - its not my dream home and it's definitely not my final resting place. But for now its a "vacation home." And I'll find some beauty here!

After dinner tonight Tyler announced, "My stomach is now full of JOY!"

"All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another."

 (Notice the happy expressions...not happy about pictures!) 

(The girls and I breaking the place in with a sleepover...straight up middle school style -complete with 5am bedtime.)

The move is finally over. It's still to close to the event for me to say it was easy. But like childbirth I am sure that in six months I will remember it as a wonderful experience. 
But I am happy to say that we are moved in, LOVE our new home and neighborhood, and ADORE the fact that I am 5 minutes from everything...seriously, every store, restaurant, Paris, Disneyland you name it...I can be there in 5 minutes.

And I about burst with pride when I bought my first drill, put all kinds of furniture together and hung my own curtains. I am thinking that at this rate I may be whittling furniture out of beechwood and welding pipe by months end.

"Points"

Today was a really good day.

And I have to be honest. That statement surprises me. With strep throat, a move that is days away, kids home for the summer and the ever-present school for me, I was expecting...well I WASN'T expecting what I got.

On a whim this morning I said, "Whoever goes downstairs and gets mom the packing tape gets 10 points." There wasn't even a second thought. They thundered down the stairs-lured by these mysterious points.

And so it went. I was amazed at what "points" could get these boys to do. They hauled and packed and scrubbed and tidied. All. Day. LONG. I am not joking. I was even able to get Ethan to try foods he has never eaten before with the promise of 500 points. (for a child who eats 3 things this is a BIG deal)

This evening I took them to the store and they could cash in their points for any ice cream they wanted. They even asked if they could eat out of the carton, "Why not...it's your points," I said.

I don't know how long to expect the "point effect" around here. But it was the miracle I needed today. And if I am lucky...maybe it will work again tomorrow!

Seven Years Ago

Seven years ago...

I met this little guy

And Fell in LOVE...

He Changed My World Forever