Dear Mom, we missed you!

We had a wonderful surprise this weekend. My Dad was working in the "west" last week and made it a priority to stop in and visit us for the weekend. Such a pleasant visit. Of course, we had to fit in as much as possible... but since we didn't do any projects or homework or errands, it was also incredibly relaxing. A mini-vacation for us as well (without the packing)!

After being pretty much run-over by all the kids at the airport, the first thing my Dad HAD to do when we got home was play RISK with the kids. We enjoyed pizza and movie night together too.

Saturday morning we went to a fun little donut shop where the slightly senile owner allowed the kids to make their own sprinkle donuts! Everything was delish, and the atmosphere enjoyable. Next we went to our local museum and then spent the afternoon at an indoor rock climbing center. This was our monthly family outing and we were so glad Dad could go with us - and CLIMB too!







Hot tubbing and movies to help us relax were definitely in order while our ribs baked. Then Dad hosted a party with his grandkids while Mr. Man and I went out on what you (Mom) call a "hot date." We shopped ALONE and then played games with some friends. Heavenly.

Sunday seems to have flown by and then I delivered Dad to the airport this morning. Wish you guys would consider the cute house up the street that's going for a GREAT price!!!

So there you go. The only thing missing from our weekend was you Mom! Everyone noticed your absence, and I even snapped a picture of Little E when he couldn't stand it any longer and called to talk with you. Still it was special to be spoiled by just Dad - I think it was a first!

Thanks for letting us have him.

Love,
your little girl

Before I forget...

My last child has left nursery. He was one of the oldest in the class for quite some time, but still one of the few who would scream and throw a fit every time we left him. Part of us wondered if he would do better going into Primary with his older siblings... and now that he is officially in the Sunbeam class, we get to see for ourselves. Our little Sunbeam (but don't call him that - he'll correct you and tell you he's not a Sunbeam, but he's his name!) is the only one in the primary room screaming and crying for 10-15 minutes... and I'm even THERE! It's horrible, I can't believe this kid. At dinner last Sunday we were talking about our day and Mr. Man asked our Sunbeam how his new class was. He admitted that he cried, but also added that he didn't like his one teacher because he didn't like what she does to him. That surprised me. He has an older couple as his teachers who are just the sweetest people ever. So I asked what was being done - all I ever see is him being comforted, hugged, and spoken to in order to try to calm him down. He told us in all seriousness, and with great animosity: "I cry and cry and my teacher pet me like a dog. I not a dog. I not a sunbeam. I Jonathan! I don't like her petting me anymore!" (name changed to protect my child:)

Cracked me up. Someday I hope he will laugh at the petting and the pain and anguish he caused his parents by crying every time we leave him for a minute.

Head Over Heels

I had to give a talk at church today. Oh help me. I hate giving talks. I was shaking hours beforehand, and I peed about every 2 minutes right up until I had to go sit up front. So much nervous energy. I think it went okay, and most importantly it's over. Mr. Man came up to me at the end of primary while I was standing in the doorway watching everything run itself, and rubbed his hand up and down my arm, and gave me a little squeeze. He told me how much he enjoyed my talk (this coming from a Man who LOVES giving talks and is one of the most amazing speakers you will ever hear). Not only that, but he gave me specific points and references to what he enjoyed. And the stress of the entire event suddenly seemed worth it. This amazing man noticed me and listened to me and loves me.

I can't tell you how much I adore this guy.


I just can't seem to get over him.

He is such a hard worker... at anything he does. Such a great dad and an even better husband.


He is constantly looking for ways to show me he loves me. And he does. He does love me and does show me.

Right before we moved here, a close friend gave me some special housewarming gifts, which I treasure. One was a bell. This friend had the sweetest quietest voice and when all of our children were off running in the field and forest behind our homes, she would call out in her quiet voice and her children would come running. I would have to scream and scream, and then still go after mine. And so I acquired a whistle. But dreamed of a bell - like a dinner bell. And she gave me a special bell when we moved, and it works wonders to summon my children from indoors or outdoors. Recently it broke. And I really wanted it to be fixed. Mr. Man has spent so much time and effort on getting it back to its original form. And this morning it was back on my window sill and rings beautifully. And now it holds even more meaning. (Look at me, all sentimental like a grandmother about my things!)

He can fix anything. He can build anything.


The other week he knocked down some walls and started making us a much needed mudroom. He sees needs and then he does everything in his power to meet those needs.
I fall for him again almost every day. This gorgeous, kind, funny man is such a blessing in my life. Not sure how he puts up with me. After years of training, I finally put the lid back on the toothpaste, but I still don't squeeze from the bottom. Sorry dear. I love you.

{picture taken by our three year old}

Spring Semester

I've officially survived my first full week of semester two of mature student status. I won't tell you how many credits I'm taking now (it's more than last semester by more than double) because everyone who knows tells me I can't do it, or shouldn't do it... and really I can and I'm going to and I want to get done sooner rather than sanely (or insanely) drawing this process out as long as possible.

I will tell you that my Tuesdays and Thursdays are L.O.N.G. days.

I get up way too early for my waking pleasure and catch a bus a half mile away at 7am.

The bus is a whole entertaining story... my goodness these people are hilarious. I think I may write my first novel about the happenings at the bus stop and on the bus. Surely after a semester's worth of riding I'll have plenty. It brings back so many bus memories from my teenage years too.

At any rate, I have back-to-back classes straight through till 2pm. An enjoyable half hour lunch break that I get to relish in with Mr. Man in his office.

Then I pick up The Preschooler (it is heaven having Mr. Man bring him so I don't have to deal with the guilt of him crying in my presence - he's really fine once I leave) and we find something to do for about a half hour (library, quick errand, naps...) before picking up the big kids from school.

Then we have a mini-break of normalcy - after school snacks and chats and maybe a friend or two before we do the one-vehicle family juggling of taekwondo and ballet drop offs and pick ups that both start and end at the same time.

Then dinner and baths and bedtime... and HOMEWORK for the queen.

I've been crashing as early as possible. Just two meltdowns so far (from me!)

But can I tell you the hardest thing for me to balance on those two long days: finding a new time and location for my morning poop.

I've been completely thrown off.

PS - I don't know why they call it spring semester here, since it won't be close to looking like spring till long after this semester is over.

Friendship?

Trust me, you want my boys to be your friends.

My two boys just came home from school with the following tale to tell.

Our neighbors were walking with them and another boy (about 8 years old, they claim) came up to our neighbor and stole his backpack. Wouldn't give it back for anything and ran off with it. Our neighbor was crying, worried about what his parents would say if he didn't bring home his backpack. So my two boys came to the rescue. They literally jumped the backpack thief. Mr. T ran up behind him and jumped on his back and wouldn't let go (like a riding cowboy - he claims) while Little E came up in front and hit him with his own back pack over and over again until he gave the backpack back to our neighbor.

My first response was horror at their behavior.
But I didn't show it.
I'm not sure how to react to this, so for now I'm putting it on the back burner of my mind, asking for advice and wondering what to teach them in regards to standing up for friends...

So... you think YOU have a lot of snow?

After a week in Arizona - this is what we came home to: (And Miss J is almost 5 feet tall now - and size 9 womans shoes...)
We own a shovel per family member at our house, and surprisingly Little E has been horrified this last week that he can't practice his new-found love of SHOVELING. We've actually had RAIN in January. We should be getting more snow tonight. I'm actually getting used to it... and I really do enjoy not having snow days - our town hasn't had school canceled due to snow in 20 years! The show, and the snow, must go on. You know you want to come visit!

(Now we understand why all the street signs are up so high!)

Burnt Offerings

We are lucky to have church at 11am for a while. I say lucky, in that we don't have to rush to get up and get ready right away on Sundays. I don't feel so lucky when my children and a room full of primary children I am trying to entertain teach are crazy hungry because it's well passed lunch time (our church goes until 2pm!)

At any rate, I had barely crawled out of bed this morning and Mr. Man was still sleeping when my two eldest boys came in bearing breakfast in bed. They kindly left us to be, to enjoy our breakfast, and then ran off to cook up some other surprises (and also make a nasty mess of my kitchen I might add). Our breakfast stared back at us: 2 tall glasses of water, and a plate full of four pieces of toast - well cooked toast that they had allowed to cool before adding layer upon layer of butter on each slice. I just couldn't do it. I swallowed the water (I am not an early morning drinker, and this was tough enough). And as I stared at what felt like our prisoners' rations, Mr. Man choked down some of the toast so that we could not only verbally thank them but also demonstrate our gratitude.

This had me wondering at what we must have made our parents choke down, and I remember staying on their beds to WATCH them suffer eat what we had made.

Mr. T and Little E were so thrilled with what they had done, they promised to bring us breakfast in bed EVERY Sunday. I tried to tell them nicely that that wasn't necessary and every once in a while was just fine. They were just so proud, how could I burst their bubble? Maybe I should have...

After our showers they approached us with their newest plan. They were going to make a restaurant on our front porch and sell toast. Cause who wouldn't love their toast - it's the best in the world. They would give out samples for a quarter, half slices for 50 cents and then a whole piece of toast for a mere dollar. They can't wait to start making money.

I think Mr. Man needs to give a little lesson on supply and demand.

For now, we'll be eating burnt toast with fondness.

(My house still reeks of it!)

everything is right on the surface

I'm sure I've mentioned before that the first time I dealt with depression I couldn't feel at all. I couldn't feel anything. The thing I missed the most was feeling love. I discussed with Mr. Man, in all seriousness, the option of giving my baby up for adoption. I couldn't feel love for my baby, and I also remembered feeling happy and love before... so maybe that would fix me. Mr. Man agreed with me that we would look into all the options, while silently freaking out inside. It pains me to see pictures of my first baby, because I was so far gone that I wasn't really present and don't remember much from that time. Maybe that's why I always ached for another baby girl, because I wanted to really experience enjoying a baby girl. I always felt cheated a little when I would find out time and time again that I was having another boy. But in a way, it's only just that I have my one little girl whom I cannot imagine ever being unable to love.

I remember when I was on the road to being healthy again that I was taking a shower when I suddenly began to feel again. We were living in Hawaii at the time, and in our shower there was a louvered window that you could literally look out from (if you were tall enough) while showering. I looked out and saw what a beautiful day it was, I could feel the sunshine. I could feel the water as it hit my body and cleansed me. And suddenly, on top of those two intense feelings, I could feel love again. Inside, I celebrated this moment. And I can still recall how significant this experience was to me; how incredible it is to "feel."

This time is different. This time I can feel too much. Everything is right there on the surface and I can barely contain myself with all that I feel. Tears are almost always there, brimming and pleading for escape. There are some of you out there who have done unbelievable things for me recently, and consequently overwhelmed me. I have spent hours crying after your deliveries, emails and phone calls have come. I don't feel like I deserve it; and yet I feel your love pounding through my veins. I feel too much and I don't know what to do with all that I feel.

Not feeling and feeling too much are both hard burdens to bear... at least for me.

Please bear with me as I try to sort through all of this. It's often too much for me to pick up the phone, or to reply to your messages of hope and advice. But it is very appreciated. Thank you.

Salt Lake City

We stopped here on our way home.

Ticket to Ride

The fact that I am feeling oh so behind in blogging all of our recent life happenings is a good sign!

Unfortunately we brought the cold and even snow down with us to Arizona! But we did have a couple of warm days first. (Thank goodness!) I think everyone's favourite outing was when we went horseback riding. We went to this great ranch where the kids all got to get dressed up in fun cowboy gear first, then we went on an hour long trail ride with a real cowboy as our guide. The Toddler (still need a new alias for my growing baby) stayed put with Grandma and then had a smaller ride of his own. (He wasn't so sure that we were coming back... check out his face!)

The kids were in their glory! Miss J was in heaven and loved every moment - from the dressing up, the ride, and caring and feeding her horse afterwards. She is a huge horse lover, like most little girls. The boys have no idea how little control they really had over their old-used-to-the-trail horses. Their horses were constantly stopping to eat, poop/toot or try to wander off and they just let them! At least they weren't as frightened as their first time horseback riding.

Mr. Man was given an obnoxious lazy horse who really needed a lot of prodding. One look at Mr. Man and our cowboy guide thought he'd be able to kick this stubborn hose into shape. Little did he know that Mr. Man has huge issues with animal cruelty and his idea of motivation was to become the horse whisperer and speak kind encouraging words. It didn't help that Mr. Man was way too big for his horse, and so the whole situation was quite humorous.

I also enjoyed riding, however, I admit I wished we had been permitted to go a little faster - a gallop would be nice! We weren't allowed to "budge" the other horses in our line on the trail, but my horse really wanted to and I wondered what anyone would say if I crept in front of them all and took the lead! It brought me back to my horseback riding days in Hawaii - did you know I once won a prize barrel racing? At any rate, it was an enjoyable experience and one we won't soon forget. We are grateful for grandparents who made this possible and shared it with us.

The Cliffs of Insanity

I couldn't do everything I wanted to this Christmas. For the first time in my life, we didn't have our gingerbread advent. We didn't do neighbor gifts, no Christmas cards or creative emails of our year in review. I barely pushed out teacher gifts and other somewhat meaningless traditions. We did have our tree, the lights went up (thanks to Mr. Man freezing his wazoo off) and we did our Christmas dinner on Christmas Eve so that we could eat leftovers Christmas day - best idea ever. As I started to pull down all the decor tonight, I realized there are mounds of books and movies that never got touched, crafts that are still in their packages, cookie cutters that didn't make any cookies, and warm fuzzies that sat up on the shelf and never got put in our jar. But even Christmas didn't wait for me to feel better. It came and went and I did my best to help my family appreciate the moments and the reason for the season. Even though I struggle to feel the spirit, even the Christmas spirit, at all these days.

The day after Christmas we left to go visit Mr. Man's dad. We had a 10 hour drive the first day and stopped at Bryce Canyon (see pictures). I didn't even know this place existed. It was beautiful, breath-taking and frightening. A couple of my kids crawled up the path, too scared to stand upright or peek over the edges. Right now that is how life is for me. I know it is beautiful and wonderful and breath-takingly amazing, and yet I am doing my best to merely crawl along the path and attempt a glimpse. Sometimes I am frozen stiff, and unable to move... completely afraid and sure I will fall. But I know that it's there. I know I can be happy and stand tall again someday.

I was scared to death of this trip. I haven't slept at night for months now - complete insomnia. And yet I nap and doze throughout the day. How would I do this at someone else's house. What if I broke down in tears at the worst possible moment, or screamed at someone who didn't deserve it? What if I just couldn't get out of bed and do what our hosts had so diligently planned for us to do? What if I couldn't smile or pretend to be happy? I cried almost the whole drive down. Worried sick and full of anxiety. Thankfully, despite a few bad moments, our week went well. And then, I cried on the way home because I didn't want to come back to real life.

I've been doing a lot of reading and seeking for help and healing. I'm learning so much and also feeling less and less alone in my journey. For a depressed person, I'm really quite normal! For those of you who cannot begin to even comprehend depression (but are still reading this for some strange reason), this analogy by Dick Cavett is helpful. He explains, "This is depression: You are lying on a couch in your living room feeling weighted down with a horrendous burden which renders you immobile. Ten feet away, there is a credenza and on the credenza is a magic wand. You know that if you could just get to the magic wand you could wave it and the magic would immediately restore you to health. But you are absolutely incapable of getting yourself off the couch."

I'm re-learning how to "think", and I'm trying to "do".

This week I am doing my in-school experience at a local Montessori school. I hope I can stand tall and do what I need to do there and at home.

Thanks for listening to my ramblings. I'll post more pictures of our trip soon.