peace of mind

I spent the day yesterday canning chicken with some friends.
Have you ever canned chicken? Believe me, I was a bit skeptical a couple of years ago when I first tried it out. Especially because the finished product looks like a vital organ floating in a jar of formaldehyde. But it has a great flavor, it's moist, and it falls apart on it's own. Perfect for any recipe calling for shredded chicken. And the best part? It goes toward my food storage supply. Seeing those jars line my pantry shelves is such a beautiful sight.No, not because it looks like a creepy collection of human hearts, but because, to me, it represents comfort... and peace of mind.

cotton cheese

I love how my kids call cottage cheese, cotton cheese.

I hope they never grow out of that one,

I think it's hilarious.

the friendly beasts

I'm embarrassed that I'm just now getting around to putting up some pictures and video from Ruby's preschool Christmas program. It's been over a month now. My goal is to have all of my holiday posts completed and posted, (it's sad how many of my blog entries are still in the 'draft' stage - finished, or nearly finished - but never published) by the end of January.
I have to be honest. This little program was probably one of the cutest things I have ever seen. It actually made me cry. A few times. The whole thing was centered on Christ. No songs about Santa, or the reindeer. Nothing about jingling bells or christmas tree rockin'. Every song had something to do with the Christ Child, and let me just tell you, nothing even compares to hearing innocent children sing about the Savior. They sang songs like Picture a Christmas, Christmas Bells are Ringing, and even the familiar primary song, If The Savior Stood Beside Me. Probably my very favorite, was their sweet and tender rendition of The Friendly Beasts song. First I must ask, where has this song been all my life? I don't understand how I had never heard it before, especially since it's been around for centuries. Well, at least since the 1920's. I don't know, maybe I had heard it. All I know is that never has it affected me like it did that day...hearing my sweet 4 year old sing it with a few of her friends.

Isn't that just the sweetest song? It makes me cry every time.

It may seem silly to some, but for me, it's nothing but beautiful.

I love contemplating that very special night, and not just the important role the shepherds, wise men, and angels played...but the animals as well.

After all, God loves His beasts too, doesn't He?
I have listened to several versions of this song since I first heard Ruby sing it with her class; and I must say...none of them even compare in my book.

I guess if I had to rank them, this would take a close second.

The arrangement is simply beautiful. Had me crying (surprise, surprise), but also laughing at the same time.

I love songs that can play with my emotions like that.

Ruby was the star in her play.

When I first asked her what she was going to be, she replied,

"I'm the star, mom, and Miss Arlene said that we're all friends, and that friends don't laugh at each other."

Needless to say, I was pretty anxious to see what this star outfit was going to look like.

The day of the program arrived, and just as Miss Arlene had admonished, and to my relief, the children did not laugh at Ruby in her star costume.

Rather, it was the parents - myself included - whom you'll hear, how should I say it, expressing amusement, upon her grand entrance.

I mean how could you not at least chuckle?

She's stinkin' adorable.

the great big world

Ruby came home from school the other day and educated me on the period (as in punctuation mark). She told me that Miss Arlene said that it was the tiniest stop sign in the world. That made me laugh. In the same sitting, she explained to me that Laman and Lemuel (Nephi's wicked brothers from the Book of Mormom) were the 'grumpy, bumpy brothers'- also something she learned at school, and again, something that made me laugh. I haven't written much about Ruby and her preschool ventures this year,which I totally feel bad about. The truth is, I have been amazed by the things she is learning. She only goes 3 times per week, for 2.5 hrs each, yet the amount of things they get through in a single day, blows my mind. They've learned all their colors and shapes (even strange shapes like the pentagon), and numbers and letters (by their sounds, not their actual names, this will help them later on as they begin to read, which is happening now...I just attend my parent/teacher reading clinic with Miss Arlene). They also memorize poems, study science, learn about different cultures, practice writing their first and last names every day, and bring home the most adorable art projects known to man. And to top it all off, they are learning the scriptures! During the 1st half of the year, they studied the Bible - old and new testament - ending with Christ's birth. Ruby would come home and tell me about Noah and the Ark, or Daniel in the Lion's den. She was especially distraught as she retold the story of Joseph, and how his brothers threw him in a pit, and then brought his bloody coat back to their father. She told all me about David and Goliath, and Jonah and the whale.When they came back from Christmas break, they began learning about and studying The Book of Mormon. As a family, we read and discuss the Book of Mormon daily; and it's so refreshing to know that what we're teaching her at home, and what she learns at church, is being reinforced at school. Repetition is key to learning and retaining knowledge. Plus I love all the exposure she is getting, and the many different teaching techniques that are being used on her. I also love to see her little budding testimony take shape as it begins to blossom into something beautiful and pure.I couldn't ask for a better program for my angel. I know that this will provide her with all the confidence she needs as she ventures out into the great big world...
also known as kindergarten.

neat little rows

My little Asher, bless his heart, has never been one for order. His life motto (if he could flat out tell me) I'm sure would be something like this-dump it out, throw it, crush it, jump on top of it, mix it up, mess it up, smash it...and then start all over again. Hence his nickname tornado.One can only imagine, then, my state of utter shock when he was discovered in his playroom today- quietly and methodically - lining all of his cars up in neat little rows.
Now if Ruby hadn't been at school, I never would have believed that he was solely responsible for creating something...so...systematic...and orderly. I praised him up and down, and over and over, and took at least a dozen pictures. He was just a grinning from ear to ear...so proud of himself.
Then when Ruby got home, they created this masterpiece together...



Again I was in utter shock. Not only by their precise system of displaying all the cars, but that he was actually cooperating and conducting himself in a civilized manner - and for more than 3 minutes at a time.
He really is growing up and making progress.

Still has a ways to go toward perfection....


but then again, who doesn't?

gathered 'round the christmas tree

A couple more Christmas pics for your enjoyment...

One of us all decked out in our snazzy sunday/holiday getups,

the other is of us in our Christmas eve pj's.

I sewed my pajama bottoms, and John sewed his.

Good times.

The kids are pretty tired in this pic.

It had been a long day.

We had had a fun dinner of holiday hors D'oeuvres,

and then our first ever reenactment of the nativity.

I'll have to post some video of that.

It was really cute.

By the time we finally got pajamas on, the kids were flat out, ready for bed -

in every way (do you notice Ruby rubbing her eyes? Both of them were completely exhausted).

We quickly put them down, so that the 'adults' could enjoy the rest of the evening

(which we did, I'll have to post some video of that too);

but John and I felt horrible when we later realized that we hadn't done any of the fun things we typically do with our kids on Christmas eve (i.e. putting cookies and milk out for Santa).

What kind of horrible parents are we?

Ruby wouldn't let us live it down either.

We explained to her that Santa actually helped himself to a few cookies that he had found the in the pantry, and then poured his own glass of milk...and that he was totally fine with that.

It was like a fun adventure for him...a treasure hunt of sorts.

That seemed to pacify her.

What was really sad, is that Santa's bells can usually be heard jingling right outside the kids' window, and his jolly HOHOHO's booming over the intercom for the children to hear.

But neither of those transpired this year.

Or maybe they did, and we 'adults' were just too distracted to notice?? Ha.

Seriously, what kind of mother am I?

being humbled

I've started working out again. It's been nearly 5 months. Today was my third day back, and I've been wounded already. In case you can't tell from the photo, that's my shin. I tried to do a box jump on a standard size plyo box, and I totally missed it. Smacked my shin pretty good. I've always been a bit clumsy, but to miss the box altogether? That's just down right ridiculous. Especially because I've done those jumps nearly a thousand times...and landed every single one of them. Perfectly.
So between that, and Ruby asking me why my tummy is getting so big (both in the same day)...I guess you could say I've been humbled. Just 6 months ago I was in the best shape of my life. I was fitter, and faster, and stronger than I had ever been. And now I can barely fit into the jeans that I wore during my entire pregnancy with Ruby. Yep, my fat jeans. I can barely squeeze into my fat jeans. That's just pathetic. I jumped on the scale the other day (first time in weeks) and was completely horrified. How anyone can gain nearly 20 pounds in 6 month's time, is beyond me. Sure I was pregnant for 3 of those, but I'm not anymore...so what's the deal? I guess eating like crap and not exercising for long enough, eventually will catch up with you. I'm seriously sick about it though, and have even lost hours of sleep over it. Ha. It feels good to finally be working out again (humbling, but good);and I can't wait to get my speed, strength, agility...
and favorite pair of jeans back.

my everything

I'm still going through all of our Christmas photos. I'm telling you, I took a ton. And over an hour's worth of video, too. I'm probably never going to do anything with most of it, which makes me sad, but I just had to at least post these two. I love these pictures. I can't even explain how excited the kids were about Christmas, so I'll let these pictures do all the talking. Seriously, have you ever seen two kids more excited about Christmas? I loved being the mom this year, and being able to just sit back and watch my children discover the magic of the season.
I'll be honest, I'm a little sad it's all over with. It's been hard being back. I've done my best the past couple of days to take the decorations down, unpack all of our suitcases, and jump back into the reality of life...and schedules...and responsibilities. I knew it would be hard, it always is, but man, this year has thrown me for a loop. I'm hoping by at least next week, things will pretty much be back to normal. I have yet to cook a meal since we've been home. Yikes.

Tonight I was lying down with the kids listening to some lullabies. The room was dark and silent, except for the soothing music playing faintly in the background. We were all snuggled in Ruby's twin bed. The moment felt perfect. And then I heard a sniffle...

Ruby: Mom, what ever happened to baby Isaac?
Me: Well, he died, remember? I've told you about it before. We buried his body deep in the ground, and his spirit went on to live with Heavenly Father.
Ruby: (crying pretty hard at this point) That is so sad that you guys did that.
Me: Did what?
Ruby: Put him in the ground. Is he all covered in dirt?
Me: No, we put his body in a special box, called a casket.
Ruby: So is he all alone in the ground?
Me: No, not exactly. We put his casket right on top of my mommy's casket, remember? I've told you all about your grandma Pitts, too. So both of their bodies, and their spirits, are together now.
Ruby: So do they have enough room to move around in the ground?
Me: Well, they don't really move around at all, sweetheart. They're bodies are taking a long sleep, until the resurrection, when their spirits and bodies will be able to come together again.
Ruby: So will we get to have Isaac again?
Me: Of course we will.
Ruby: (still crying) But mom, we don't even have any clothes for him, and not even a bed for him to sleep in. This makes me so sad.

Our conversation continued for awhile. I did my best to explain everything to her. But how can you really help a 4 year old comprehend something like that? It was the saddest thing. Her poor little heart was broken. And then mine was too.

I just lay there and held both my kids so tight. And suddenly my problems seemed so insignificant. Who cares if I still have some of my Christmas things up? What does it matter if our suitcases aren't completely unpacked? A cluttered house? Not important. I just lay there in the moment and thought about how these two precious little ones, well...
how they're my everything.

closer to heaven

I just noticed that this is my 500th post. Crazy. But then I guess if you consider that I've been blogging for 4 years now, and that probably half of those posts were published within that very first year, 500 suddenly doesn't seem all the impressive. I have a goal this year to be better at blogging. After all, this blog is my journal. I'd like to be better at writing in my journal for 2011. Actually I need to be better at a lot of things. I want to be more organized, and git rid of stuff. I want to lose weight, and get back into shape. I want to cook more, and eat out less. I want to be a better wife, and a better mother. There are so many things that I want to improve upon, that I'm afraid I'd just be setting myself up for failure if I make my list too long and try to make too many changes at once.
John and I discussed our goals and resolutions for 2011 on our way home from Utah, and came up with a pretty good family motto for the upcoming year...2011 - Closer to Heaven. The theme this year for the youth of the church is the 13th Article of Faith. John and I both especially love the last line that states, if there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praisworthy, we seek after these things. We promised each other that we were going to take our spirituality up a notch this year. I think that this is the only goal that I'm really going to focus on. I feel like if I can strengthen my relationship with my Savior, that everything else will either fall into place, or drop out of my life. Together we decided that if it's not virtuous, or lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, then we want nothing to do with it.
As I was looking over the hundreds of photographs that I took over Christmas, I fell in love with this one of Ruby playing Mary in the Nativity. It's not really in focus, the composition and exposure aren't great...but it's a perfect picture of how I want my life to be-completely centered and focused on Christ. You'll notice that also in the picture is a Christmas tree, a Santa Claus, and some toy soldier nutcrackers (representing the world), but that they all take a back seat to what's most important. I don't want to become so caught up in the spiritual aspects of life, that I omit entirely some of the secular things that make life fun and enjoyable. Of course, those things will perpetually pop up in my life's pictures, but my goal is that they remain in the background, as Christ invariably prevails front and center.
So here's to 2011...and getting closer to Heaven.

snow!

a few years ago it snowed in mesa. i mean, it really snowed. we even built a snowman. it was such a phenomenon. i hear it snowed in mesa again today. unfortunately we weren't there to enjoy it. instead we're in utah...playing in the 18 feet of snow that dumped last night. i guess i don't feel so bad.

believe

It's been a month since I last blogged. Now that, I cannot believe. Where is the time going? And why do I feel like I never have enough of it?

I have a lot to try and catch up on...but I simply could not wait to tell about our magical experience of two nights ago.

The morning started off like any other, with the search for our elf, Clarence.

Every night he flies home to Santa, and reports to the boss (Santa) his observations of each day - whether the children have been naughty or nice.

Magically each morning, and before the children awake, he is back, and in a new hiding place. This particular morning, however, something was different.

He was indeed hiding in a new spot, but he also held in his arms, a letter.

A personal letter to the children.

From Santa.

Santa Claus had invited them to the North Pole, and also enclosed in the envelop, were 4 round trip tickets to hop aboard the Polar Express.

Somehow Clarence had managed to sneak the packages (that St. Nick had sent) under the tree without waking the kids.

That Santa, wow, he's just too kind.

Each kid was given a pair of festive holiday pajamas, a soft fleece robe, cozy Christmas socks, and a pair of slippers.

Excited doesn't even describe the way the children felt.

Especially Ruby.

Asher might be a little young to really understand all this Christmas excitement, but he was feeding off of Ruby's energy, and before too long, he too was bouncing off the walls.

We left late in the afternoon and drove for three hours.

It was fun to see the temperature gradually drop as we got closer and closer Flagstaff, which was about 30 miles from the train depot.

It's been in the low to mid 80's here in mesa - unseasonably warm for this time of year- so the 40 degree weather was nice (but only for a few hours), and authenticated the whole North Pole experience.

No laughing, it felt really cold to us.

After handing the conductor our tickets, and getting settled in our seats, we were off...zipping and whirling - faster than the speed of light - to the North Pole.

On our trip, we were served cookies and hot cocoa, sang Christmas carols, listened to the Polar express story...

and the best part of all, was when Santa visited with each child and gave them all a special believe bell.

My kids were beside themselves.

It brought me so much joy to see the both of them so happy.

That's what Christmas is all about, isn't it?

It's about joy, and peace.

It's about laughter and smiles, and gifts from the heart.

It's about families.

It's about being together.

It's about love.

It's about believing...and I'm not just talking about Santa here.

It's about believing in the One who gave us the greatest gift of all.

The Savior, who gave us His life.

That very act enabled us to receive every gift our Father in Heaven has in store for his children...

even peace, joy, happiness, laughter, family togetherness, love, and ultimately - eternal life.

I hope you can feel the love this holiday season.

His love.

I know you will,

if you truly believe.

sew much love...

If you have ever served in the Young Women's program, or are at all familiar with how YW is run, you'll know all about the two big evening programs that happen every year. First you've got New Beginnings - held at the beginning of each year, and then there's Young Women in Excellence, at the end of the year. Since I've been in YW, I've been involved in planning and executing eight of these special evening programs. Eight. That's a lot. Let's see if I can remember them all. First we did a Movie Theme, then A Night at the Museum, Sailing Home to Safe Harbor, Mission Possible,a News Broadcast...next there was For such a Time as This, The Lord's Army Wants YOU!, and most recently, Patterning Your Life After Personal Progress...Check all all the fun pictures below.This one was fun.We brought in all things "sewing"...notions, fabrics, threads, buttons, patterns, and even a perfect turquoise vintage sewing machine (thanks Diana).We had several quilts on display, and an adorable mini dress garland strewn around the room.Our Young Women's president gave the best talk, and put together an amazing slideshow of everything we've done the past year.We gave each girl her own sewing kit - with a tag that readWe Love You "Sew" Much (Kind of dippy, I know).Sarah made all the girls their very own patriarchal blessing holder (very special).And the evening concluded with some of the most delicious cupcakes I have ever tasted, thanks to Shannon.
Sew perfect.

Each of these evenings necessitated hours of hard work and preparation.They were planned with only the girls' best interest in mind.They were carried out with love;andeach evening turned out to be unique and fun in it's own special way.
I don't know what I'll do with myself the day they release me from Young Women's.As I sat there on Wednesday night, and stared into each of their beautiful faces, I couldn't help but feel overcome with emotion.We have been through a lot these past four years.Laughs.Tears.Adventures.Fun. Learning moments.Teaching moments.
And, most importantly, love...
Sew much Love.

that freaked me out...

I don't know what the deal is, but it seems like every 3 or 4 months,
we find one of these little creeps somewhere in our house...

Today I found this one just strolling along our bathroom floor.
I made Ruby stand by him (but not too close) to make sure he didn't get away from us, while I ran and grabbed my camera.

I had never in my life seen one this small.

I snagged a little prop for the photo shoot - a dime - just to demonstrate how miniscule he really was.

I mean, it literally would have taken 10 of these little ant-sized scorps to cover that one dime.

(Quite the contrast from the time we found a scorpion in our kitchen, so huge, it would have required roughly 10 dimes to cover just him.

Luckily, John killed that one, I would have never been brave enough to do that.)

Our poor little bathroom friend hadn't a clue of his unfortunate fate.

Immediately following his 30 seconds of fame and paparazzi,

He was mercilessly crushed beneath my shoe.

I was so freaked out while I was taking his picture, I had all these images of him leaping atop my lens and then stinging my eye. I know. Pretty funny.

But I do feel like some of my fears were justifiable, though.

First of all, those baby scorpions are known to release more venom in their sting than the full-grown ones do.

Secondly, their size enables them to hide in obscure places, thus making them harder to pinpoint.

(That six foot long scorpion, hanging out in our kitchen, was not too difficult to identify.)

Because he was so small, I keep imagining finding more, like in my or my kids' shoe, or nestled into the carpet fibers where we wrestle and play on the floor...

or in one of our beds.

Oh that would make me so mad to find one in our beds.

And, finally, something that has haunted me all day...

If we found a baby...

doesn't that mean there could be more babies?

and a momma somewhere?

Those female scorpions are known to give birth to somewhere around 100 baby scorpions.

Gross. Gross. Gross.

Ahhhhh, I am so freaked out right now.

I tried to remain calm.

I really did... for Ruby's sake

My fear must have evidenced in my behavior, though,

because all day long Ruby has repeated over and over,

Mom, that really freaked me out.

That scorpion really, really freaked me out.

It's a good thing Asher was napping through the whole ordeal,

He most likely would have picked it up with his fingers,

and popped it in his mouth.

in a year

A lot can happen (or change) in a year. Wouldn't you agree? Last year at this time I was pretty much in the best shape of my life. I had just decided to run a race...my first race ever. Just hours after signing up for the race (which is a skin cancer awareness event), I had received word from my Dr's office that my biopsy had come back...the only two words I remember hearing from that conversation were, malignant melanoma. Suddenly this race I would be running, became more than just a race...it became my race. My cause. In fact, as I was running along the course that day, I felt like I was the only one out there, seriously, like this race belonged only to me. Still, to this day, I feel like the whole event was planned and organized...just for me.In fact, several months back, I went to the website to double check the date for this year, only to discover that my picture was on the front page of the site!My race, I tell ya.Shortly after the race, the director gave all the participants the opportunity to submit their "race day story". The winner would receive free registration for the following year. Because I not only had such a wonderful experience running the race, but also had felt such an affinity to the race and it's cause, I was excited to have the opportunity to share my story. Of course I was even more excited to learn that I had won!To say that I have been excited about this year's race, would be an understatement. I have been thinking about it, and dreaming about it, and anticipating it, for a whole year now. I actually told myself awhile back that the only thing in this world that would stop me from running it...was if by some huge miracle...I became pregnant. (Normally even that wouldn't stop me from running a race, especially this race...but because I have cervical insufficiency, I have to be extremely cautious with regard to my level of activity during pregnancy. Running a race, would not be wise.) It was a huge surprise when we found out in September that I was actually pregnant. I feel ashamed even admitting this, but a few days after we found out, I thought about this race; and for a brief moment, I felt a twinge of sadness knowing that it wouldn't be happening for me this year. Thinking about what I would be trading it for (a new baby), however, made it all worthwhile, and I was ok with that.
Here's what I'm not ok with. It's been a whole year since my race. I'm fat and out of shape, and I have a baby bump...but no baby. I won't be running the race, and it's not because I'm pregnant,but rather, recovering from a d&c- a procedure which removed my long-awaited and much- anticipated (but inviable) pregnancy. (Can you tell I've been in bed too long and had too much time to feel sorry for myself and my situation?)
I'm happy, however, thinking about getting myself back in shape and being able to run the race next year...unless of course, I'm pregnant- which would make me even happier.
A lot can happen (or change) in a year.

ps. Go to shunthesun.org to see our picture...hurry before they re-design the page, and we'll be gone forever.

thank you

I go in tomorrow for my D&C.
I was actually scheduled to get it done last week, but on the drive home from my Dr's appointment, I got a sick feeling inside.
It wasn't really about the procedure at all, but had everything to do with the Dr. who would be performing it.
She was so rude to me. So completely insensitive.
She questioned and challenged me as to why I didn't take the cytotec (the pill to induce miscarriage) which they had prescribed me the day before.
I explained to her that I had already been through enough emotionally with this whole ordeal; and that I just didn't want to have to experience any more undue pain - emotional or physical. (I know there's no baby in there, but I am 13 weeks pregnant. My Uterus is enlarged, the gestational sac is big. I can only imagine the amount of blood and tissue that I would be passing, and therefore having to look at. Not to mention the severe cramping and pain that she had warned me about).
I told her that I really just wanted to go to sleep, and wake up, and know that it was done.
Just like that.
She seemed to almost mock me for my cowardice.
I felt crushed afterwards.
Crushed and sick inside.
I called John on the phone and he asked why we were even going to her.
At that point I just wanted it to be over with...even if it meant having that heartless woman take care of it.
I hung up with John, and headed for home.
It wasn't until I was stopped at a stoplight, that I finally came to my senses. Why in the world am I giving this woman my patronage?
She clearly doesn't have my best interest at heart.
I never felt, through any of her dealings with me, that she genuinely cared about me and what I was going through; and although I was anxious to just be done with it, I decided I would be willing to wait a few more days if it meant I could be in better hands.
I decided to call the Dr. who performed the laparoscopic surgery to remove my ectopic pregnancy three years ago.
He, of course, was happy to help me out.
When I met with him on Wednesday, he was completely understanding and full of compassion...as was his entire staff.
It was a complete night and day contrast.
He ordered a couple more HCG quants, as well as an ultrasound...wanting to be sure for himself that this pregnancy had no chance of surviving.
We met today to review all the results.
Of course, we all knew that this was not a viable pregnancy, but the fact that he was giving it every benefit of the doubt, made me feel like he really cared.
I, for the first time in weeks, felt validated.
I can now face tomorrow with a calm heart...knowing that I am absolutely in good hands.
(Let's just hope I make it until tomorrow, with all the cramping and spotting/bleeding we've been dealing with all weekend.)

Ok, now that was a lot of rambling.
The real purpose of this post was to thank all of you for...
wow...
for everything.
Where do I even begin?
Thank you for the encouraging words, the tears, the cards and little notes, the gifts and heartfelt letters, the meals, the lunch dates, the sweet texts and blog comments, the prayers and fasts on our behalf, the phone calls, the flowers, the cookies, the bread (x3), the emails and facebook messages, the watching of my kids...and for your unconditional love, support, and friendship.
You all know who you are.
I feel so richly blessed.

Thank you...from the bottom of my heart.

the best christmas ever

I took the kids to Chick-fil-A last night.
I noticed that were advertising for their Peppermint Chocolate Chip Milkshake.
Have you ever tried it?
It's amazing.
Last year I wasn't able to order one because John and I were doing the no sugar thing...so as soon as I saw that they were offering it already for the season, I knew I had to have one.
The first sip was like magic.
With it came all the tastes, smells, sights, and sounds...of Christmas.
It was like I just got this itch...you know, the Christmas bug.
Then I got an idea! An awful idea! YES I GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!
Remember this post from three years ago?
Well today I threw it all out the window.
I discounted everything I have ever believed in and preached about with regard to the holidays...
and we decorated for Christmas.
It's the first time in my life that I have ever taken down Halloween, and put up Christmas, on the same day.
While we worked, we broke out the Christmas music, burned a yummy pine candle, and even read Christmas stories before putting the kids to bed.
I have been in desperate need of some cheer the past couple of weeks, and (who knew?) this was just what I needed.
For the longest time, well since we lost mom a week before Christmas, I haven't had the best feelings about the holidays, particularly Christmas.
It's taken several years (and a couple of kids), to once again see Christmas for what it is...
Beautiful, Magical, and Exciting.
In fact, I think it's safe to say that this is the first year since before her passing, that decorating for Christmas hasn't felt burdensome and wearing.
It was actually something I anticipated and relished in.

I think this will be the best Christmas ever...

I can just feel it in my bones.

broken heart

I had a Dr.'s appointment on Monday.
They did another ultrasound.
Still no baby.
No heartbeat.
I pretty much expected that result; but for some reason, when reality actually set in, it still rocked my world pretty good.
Even though I tried to prepare myself for the worst, I was still hoping for a positive outcome.
I had read about, and heard of so many women who's babies, for one reason or another, didn't show up on the ultrasound until just before their scheduled d&c...
some well into their 2nd trimester.
One woman I read about didn't see her baby until 18 weeks! She was told at about 10 weeks - because there was no baby to be found - that she was going to miscarry. She decided to let it happen naturally. She then ended up waiting about 8 weeks before she finally called her Dr. for some help. He had her come in for another ultrasound to see what was going on in there, and that's when they found her baby...measuring 18 weeks gestation!
Obviously stranger things have happened.
And one can't discount the fact that God is a God of miracles.
He is all-powerful, all-knowing, and omnipotent.
Surely there is no limit to His capabilities and aptitude.
I guess I was just hoping for a marvel like that in my situation.
My sweet friend, Syd, said it perfectly in a letter she wrote me.
"The Lord has the Power to calm the storm. But, at times, He lets the storm rage, and calms His child."
I loved this, as it has brought me so much comfort the past few weeks.
It's true, He's the master of all. At any moment, He can calm our life's storms, our trials, our sorrows.
He simply speaks, and it is done.
However, for reasons we often don't understand (but He does, and that's all that matters), He'll allow the storms to rage, to toss us to and fro...
but hasn't He promised that He will not leave us comfortless?
I believe what He says, and know from personal experience, that This promise is true. I look back to some of the heaviest storms I have faced (primarily losing mom, and then my baby boy, Isaac), and because I fastened to my anchor, who is Christ, I was able to weather these storms.
And not just weather the storms, but actually come out on top...
Become a better person.
A little bit more faithful...more believing, more compassionate, and stronger.
The Lord has His purposes...I will never doubt His dealings with me.
I know that He only has my best interest in mind.
I actually feel like great things are in store for my family.
I had hoped that it was this.
This pregnancy.
This baby.
But my faith is not the least bit shaken because things didn't turn out exactly how I had hoped they would.
If anything, I have learned that I need to work a lot harder at aligning my will with the Lord's.
Something that has proven to be more difficult, for me at least, because of how badly I wanted this.


The Dr. told me on Monday that my body was holding on to this pregnancy, and now needed something to help it along.
Looks like two things were aligned - my body and my heart...neither wanting to let go.

When we got home, and Ruby saw me crying, she asked "did they not find our baby again mom?"
"No, they didn't, Ruby."
"But that's been three times, mom. Why can't they find our baby after three times?"
I hated having to tell her the truth. "Well sweetheart, It looks like our baby wasn't quite ready to come. Heavenly Father took our baby home, and when the time is right for our family, He'll send us the sweet spirit we've been waiting for." (Did I do ok? I mean, how do you explain something like that to a four year old? A four year old who has been beyond excited for another sibling. A four year old who never utters a prayer without first and foremost thanking Heavenly Father for our baby. A four year old who announces to every stranger on the street that her mommy has a baby in her tummy. I hope I did ok.)
"Oh" is all she said. Then she asked, "mom can we pretend that you're at the dr's office, and that I'm your dr?".
"Sure sweetie. That sounds fun."
"Ok, first I need to listen to your heart" She held a stethoscope to my chest and then said something that absolutely blew me away. "Hmmmm...it sounds like your heart is broken".
My eyes filled with tears. "Wow doc...you're spot on".
She then said something that made me chuckle. "Yes, and what you need to do to for your broken heart is stop eating sugar. You eat way too much sugar. You need to start eating more vegetables, pears, and cantaloupe".


If only the cure for a broken heart was really that easy.

how's this for muchness?

For Halloween this year, we went with the Alice in Wonderland theme - Tim Burton style - obviously.

For those who have yet to see it (or for those of you who never will), here's what the real characters look like...


Ruby was dying to be The White Queen, and requested that I go as her sister, The Red Queen. John, we knew right away, would have to be the Mad Hatter; and we all thought it would be funny to have Asher and Dix dress as the two Tweedles - Dee and Dum (most would agree, they were a hysterical little doublet). The ironic thing about our whole ensemble, is that we didn't even have an Alice. I then had an idea to order a little Alice figurine and secure it to John's, er excuse me, the Hatter's hat...rather fitting, we thought since she rides a great deal on his hat in the movie. Just trying to stay true to the storyline...I mean, what's Wonderland without the Alice?

happy halloween

Here's a little sneak peek...

























I have a bazillion more photos to post, but I'm tired exhausted...so I think I'll wait until tomorrow to unveil the rest.Happy Halloween.

perfection

It's 91 degrees out.
The kids and I just returned from the pool.
It was Ruby's suggestion, and I thought it sounded like a perfect idea.
Wow, perfection it was.
Because the pool isn't heated, it was a bit cool for my liking, but the hot tub was perfect...not too hot (which is how I like it).
After soaking in the bubbles a while, and getting ourselves wet, we pulled up some lounge chairs and relaxed in the sun.
The sun was pretty bright and intense, and I started to worry because none of us had any sunscreen on.
So we moved our chairs into a nice shady area on the south side of the jacuzzi, and just lounged.
It was absolutely perfect.
The air was not hot, nor cold, just...
perfectly perfect.
Of course Asher couldn't lie still for long, but I enjoyed watching him from my lounge chair as he rode his tricycle around the pool again, and again, and again. The birds were chirping and the delicate leaves from the lush green trees (remember we don't have autumn here in Arizona...so yes, the trees are still very green) were rustling from the gentleness of the breeze.
The sky was blue. Very blue.
The water was still and perfectly clear.
As I lay there in the solitude, I couldn't help but ponder and reflect upon the exquisiteness of my surroundings.
How anyone can live on this beautiful planet, and still deny the existence of God, is beyond me.
For just as the prophet Alma from the Book of Mormon, testified to Korihor, the antichrist, all things denote there is a God; yea, even the earth, and all things that are upon the face of it, yea, and its motion, yea, and also all the planets which move in their regular form do witness that there is a Supreme Creator.
As I lay there enjoying the perfection all around me, I said a silent prayer.
I thanked my Father for my surrounding beauties, which included, of course, my two babies.
I thanked Him for the gift of peace, which in all reality, is the gift of His Holy Spirit.
It's a beautiful thing, in such a troubled world, to be able to feel complete and absolute peace.
I could have stayed in that moment forever, and would have, if I didn't have to fight my eyelids from closing.
Can you imagine how horrible that could have been?
A day of perfection ending in tragedy because mom fell asleep at the pool.
I knew when I started to drift that it was time to call it a day.
The kids hopped on the tricycle (Ruby always drives and Asher rides on the back. It is the cutest sight in the world. I'll have to dig up a picture...I know I have one somewhere.) And I followed in their wake, dragging my bare feet through the recently watered lawn; and then turning around to see my trail of wet footprints marking the clean white pavement.
Perfection.
Taking time out from busy lives and schedules...to simply stop, and listen, and enjoy, and appreciate - to smell the roses, so to speak - is nothing short of perfection.
Try it sometime.
You will love it.

And then eat lunch on your kitchen floor. That's what we did.