we ventured out...but not too far

After antibiotics and lots (and I mean lots) of sleep, I'm finally starting to feel a little better.  

But as I'm typing my sinuses are clogged up and starting to hurt again...I'm so tired of this crap.  Monday and Tuesday were the worst days and as I laid in bed crying because I felt so awful, all I could think about was my poor sister.   Every other Monday she goes to the hospital where they purposely make her feel like garbage.  She hurts everywhere, is nauseated and has many other AWFUL symptoms that only chemo can bring.   I hope she knows that she is my hero.   I think if I knew I had to drive somewhere every other week to make myself feel awful...I might just run away.  

JaNae is one of the toughest, strongest, most wonderful people I know.  Love you JaNae!  

Mom and I did a small cheer for you this evening on the phone that you only have six more weeks left!!!  Hurray! 

Today I left the house for one of the first times since last Friday.  Sick and pregnant together bring out the hermit in me like no other.  (bright side:  haven't spent a dime in almost a week)  

Steve had the day off as we were supposed to drive to IF for Carter's diabetes appointment.  The weather forcasted snow for Idaho Falls...so we changed the appointment to Steve's next Thursday off- Valentines Day.  How romantic is that going to be?  Carter, Steve and I all driving to Idaho Falls...we are party animals let me tell you.

It was wonderful to be able to get a few errands run today and chill out the rest of the time.

My three hour nap was heavenly and needed...oh so needed.  (I'm feeling a bit geriatric and I depend on my early afternoon nap to make it through the day.   It's pathetic.)

Steve saw one patient this morning and then came and picked me up around 9:30 to run errands.

And he came in his parents "new" truck.  

Sadly, I don't even know what year it is or anything...but Steve LOVES this thing.

I mean...come on...look at that face!

He is dying of giddiness inside.

(and lets be honest, the truck is beautiful if you are into old beautiful trucks)

Me...not so much.  

It was beautiful and in almost perfect condition, but it smelled like my grandfather's old farm trucks. And I wasn't too thrilled that Saylor and I had to share a seat belt.  

Thank goodness our ride was only a mile down to Steve's office where we switched to my temperature controlled, car seat accommodating, heated leather seats van.  

(I love my car.  I'm a comfort snob and I know it.) 

Steve talked the entire way about how his dad has already given permission to our boys to drive the truck one day.  I burst his bubble by bringing up the point that a bench seat and extended bed were probably not a good idea for teenagers who live in the same town as a drive-in.  (Just saying...genetically they are half me.  I had issues with drive-ins.  Steve just made out at New Years Eve dances.  We'll have to steer clear of those too.)  I'm just thinking ahead Steve, just thinking ahead.  I'm wondering if a a small car with uncomfy bucket seats and a large overbearing console would work much better for our offspring.

I'm sick

The weather was beautiful this weekend.  Sunny and in the 40's.  The kids rejoiced and played outside in the "balmy" weather.  The snow melted, the slush disappeared and all was well.

And, my kids got over their colds and the world was right.

But it's turned cold again...January has a tendency to do that.  

And I got sick.  I wrote way too soon when I said I was sleeping well and feeling great.  Scratch all of that.  

I have the mother of all colds and have spent the last 2 1/2 days in bed. 

(It takes a lot to keep me in bed.)

My entire head hurts including my face, teeth, throat, eyes and ears.  My nose has become the fountain it has not been since I'm sure I was 18 months and didn't care that fluid was running down my upper lip.  Well, I mind now.  How how how can the human sinus cavity lose so much moisture in one day?  

Oh...and I'm not sleeping anymore.  Between breathing problems, nose drip duty and restless legs at night, it is no wonder I burst into tears from complete exhaustion last night around midnight.  I need to be admitted to a hospital so someone can give me hospital strength sleeping drugs.  

I really hate being sick.

I don't take for granted good health.  It's pretty wonderful when you have it.

...and so is Netflix and it's 30 episodes of some teenage high school drama that truly makes you stupider for watching.  But when you are sick, being stupid doesn't matter.

Why I won't complain today...

A cute friend of mine, who had her baby boy just a few weeks ago, said once that she didn't feel like she had the right to complain about being pregnant until she was 30 weeks.

Well, I'm 30 weeks in about three hours and I was all ready to complain away- had my list all ready.

But tonight, as I was reading through some of the youth lesson material for a ward conference I will be attending tomorrow, I came across an article by Henry B. Eyring called "O Remember, Remember" which was focused on recognizing God's kindness and tender mercies towards his children.

It changed my mind about complaining. (for now anyways)

I was ready to write tonight about how everything from my ribcage down hurts (because it does) and how my cold isn't helping anything, particularly when I cough unexpectedly with a full bladder...but instead, I think I will focus on how blessed I truly feel about this pregnancy.

(A big fat sorry to my sisters who I know both love my rants, especially the pregnant rants.  How about I call each of you tomorrow and complain on the phone, then my kids will never have written proof that I did it?)

So here goes.

 A few things I am grateful for encompassing this pregnancy.

Overall, I feel good.  I have not hurt until recently which is a lot better than I felt with Saylor's pregnancy just three years ago.

My blood pressure is holding steady.  Whew!

Baby Boy is growing well and everything looks perfect.

I've been able to handle the normal stresses in life and have easily given up extra things without guilt...for instance...Carter was totally fine with not being in swim team this session.   I didn't feel I had the mental and physical capacity to hang out at the pool twice a week for over an hour and still hold down the fort at home.  Its a huge blessing that he didn't mind or pout.

Saylor has allowed me to nap almost everyday for the last few weeks.  By 1pm, I'm spent and laying down for even an hour keeps me going for the rest of the day.

My braxton-hicks contractions have been less this pregnancy, that or I'm just able to handle them better.

Steve has been wonderful.  He comes home and pitches in right when I feel like I can't do anything else.  I'm most grateful that he is willing to perform bath and bedtime duties with the kids.  He has also taken over dinner many nights in the past weeks and does dishes too.  He even takes the boys to school most mornings and drives them to any and all piano, guitar and YM activities that he is home and able to.   He is a wonderful wonderful man.

I'm still sleeping well.  That is a miracle in itself.

I only have around 9 weeks left.  Hurray!

I've discovered the best gluten free chocolate cake mix known to the free world.  (YES...this is a pregnancy blessing.  Trust me!)

I'm happy and my moodiness had been minimal this pregnancy.  (Even ask Steve, I've been much better to be around this time  My moments of wanting to claw someones eyes out are few and far between!)

When I do get a little feisty, like this morning for instance, I have the mental realization that I'm grouchy because I'm in pain...so I take two Tylenol, apologize to my loving spouse and get over myself.

I've actually kept the house in high functioning order, organized and clean to an acceptable extent with minimal mental breakdowns or "crazy mom" episodes.

My children have been extremely supportive and helpful.  They ask how I am doing and are ready and willing to pitch in when needed.  It's bliss I tell you, bliss!

I pray in the next 9 weeks I can continue to recognize my blessings during this pregnancy and focus minimally on my complaints.  (except to Jolyn and JaNae...I'll just rant to you if you don't mind.)

My Heavenly Father loves me and is truly watching over me and helping me through this time in my life.  I'm grateful for His love and tender mercies in my life.  I know I couldn't make it through pregnancy #5 without Him.

Chesterfield Berry Farms

In the fall in Virginia there was the pumpkin patch, but in the spring there was the berry farm.

Oh the berry farm!

Sadly, we did not take advantage of the berry farm as much as we would have liked, but by the time we paid for the gas to drive to and from, paid for the tractor ride (not free like the pumpkin patch) and paid for the berries (I always picked WAY more than I needed and spent a small fortune) it turned out to be a pricier trip than we would have liked.

Oh yeah...and there was ice cream too.  We couldn't leave without homemade ice cream so just add that money in there too.

But the few times we went were wonderful...and delicious.

Tractor ride to the field.

The berry patches were gorgeous and perfectly manicured.  The only way the kids got dirty in the fields was from the berry juice.

It doesn't get much prettier than this.

Plus...there were no migrant workers placing the berries on the side of the rows- we picked directly off the vine.  It was an authentic experience.

(spring 2005)

 The hardest part was teaching the boys to pick the ones that weren't quite ripe.  If not, all our berries spoiled too quickly after we got home.

 Thankfully there was an eat for free policy.  We only had to pay for what we carted out.

Carter ate a lot of our "mistakes"...and he loved it!

 Andrew was a great helper.

He wouldn't eat the berries, but was happy to carry them for us.

Thats what it was!  Andrew was just saving room for the ice cream!

 After we paid (a lot) for our beautiful berries, we ate ice cream.  It was amazing...

 as you can tell by this very unflattering picture of me.

Fresh strawberry shakes are hard to beat.

(Nuts...now I want one.  Dang pregnancy cravings- in the winter no less.)

Another time Steve took the boys to Chesterfield Berry Farms was right after Colby was born in 2006.

He went with his brother Gary an his family.

 Another tractor ride photo.

 Along with the berry patch, there were a few other things the kids could do.

Photo ops.

 Pony rides.

And the best thing ever...a huge vat of corn kernels to play in.

(I try not to think of it in the same sense as a ball pit at a fast food playland...because then I would be grossed out.)  

Side note:  I got smart this visit and purposely made the boys wear red shirts.  Red hides strawberry stains, plus, it looks really cute for pictures against the green berry patch.

Surviving without Dad

Steve has been gone the past few days at an implant course in Utah.  The only thing that man enjoys more than pulling a tooth, is placing an implant and restoring it afterwards.  I've seen pictures.  I'm not quite sure why he likes to do it.

So, I've been on my own.  

(not my favorite situation, but it's doable.)

I sent these pictures to Steve around 6:45 am yesterday.  They were taken right after I woke the kids up and gathered them for scriptures.

I think he got a clear picture of how were were really doing.

Somehow this boy found the one shirt that coordinates with a random pair of pj bottoms.

'Stripes' Dixon is what we'll call him now.

 Still not feeling great...this flu bug means business.

 Studying the Book of Mormon through osmosis.

I think this class should be offered in the wee mornings at BYU.

This one says it all.

Her morning was really "rough."

She slept in my bed or on the floor most of the night.  

She required three sippy-cups at all times: milk, juice, and water with ice.

Baby Scout doll has been tossed about to make more stretching room.

Blank stare at Super Why or Wonder Pets.

If only being sick could be this cushy for all of us.

Steve...we are missing you and can't wait to have you home!

Love you!

PS...drive safe and please avoid any ice storms.

Little Carter

While backtracking through photos, I've rediscovered some old favorites of my kids.

These few (ok...I wouldn't say just a few) are all about Carter.

Looking back I think he had to be the cutest, sweetest, happiest toddler/little boy ever to roam this earth.

I wish I could turn back the clock and kiss those cheeks and chubby hands one more time.   

Now he is a big brilliant nine year old, trying so hard to be independent and grown up.

Today he asked me when I didn't have to come into school anymore.  He has hatched a plan to practice calling my cell phone so I don't have to come into lunch anymore.  I'm cramping his third grade style.

Please don't grow up quite yet Carter Dean, I'm not ready.

Here are just a fraction of my most favorite treasured pictures of Carter.

Eating peas out of Grandpa's garden at Uncle Jon and Aunt Caprice's reception.

 A slight mishap involving a wagon, the gravel and Carter's face.

 Self titled, "Diaper Boy" but pronounced "Biaper Boy"

"Mom, I don't wear underwears...I wear biapers!"

 Is it awful I don't remember which museum in DC this was taken in?

 The worst most irreverent white trash haircut ever.

Thankfully it only lasted two days.

 Thanks Uncle Dan and Aunt Jolyn for the sweet Disney Land hat!

 In the hospital and still smiling.

 Swim lessons are the BEST!

 Don't look too long into those pools for eyes...you'll be hypnotized before you know it and out $20. 

(for Lego's of course)

The party invitation said dress as your favorite superhero.  We didn't have any costumes, so we made up our own.  Maybe "Diaper Boy" grew up into "Underwear Man"

keeping up with the present

I had my 29 week appointment this morning.  (But I think I should just be honest and say I'm 29 1/2...that half counts)  My blood pressure was good, my weight was good (meaning I didn't cry about it) and I'm happy to report my blood sugar was good.   I protested conventional medicine with this pregnancy too and performed the dreaded glucose test at home with strips I've already paid for and two cans of juice.  Last month the PA I saw gave me a look of horror when I declined the glucose test.  She treated me if I was the dumbest person on the earth and that I might as well sign my baby over to child protective services right then.  She rudely said she could not "sign off" on my request to decline.  I laughed the entire way home after one of the Ob's in the office (who actually knows and listens to me) said, "Sure, no problem" when she asked what he thought.  HAAA HAAA HAAA HAAA! 

 (I was feeling a little vindictive that day, still am for that matter)

  I would have liked to have seen her today and flashed my blood sugar number of 78 one hour after drinking my juice.  

Don't mess with mothers of diabetics.  We know what we are talking about.

When I told Carter my number, he was worried and asked if I drank another juice because I was low. 

I love that kid...love him.

I'm to the stage now where I will see my doctor every two weeks for the next month and then every week after that.  I will also start with ultrasounds and non-stress tests soon too. 

 (I feel money pouring out of our bank account...shooting out...gushing out.)

Andrew had a camp out in the south hills last weekend.  He came home Saturday afternoon with a fever and extreme sore throat.  It hit him hours after he arrived at the campsite.  Poor kid powered through the entire camping trip feeling like garbage.  The fever and sore throat progressed into a runny nose and horrendous cough.  Andrew has the flu.  

Saylor has it now too.  She has run a low grade fever and been hacking for the last three days.  I'm guessing the flu shots I tortured the kids with a few months ago are helping in the fact that this sickness is more annoying than severe.  Too bad I didn't get my flu shot until today.  Oops.  I'm praying the mass quantities of sleep I am forcing myself to get will keep me from getting sick, that, and how many times I wash my hands in a day.  There isn't enough lotion on this planet to fix my raw bleeding hands. I'm pretty I tell ya.

I've nested in the last month.  Rooms have been cleaned out, closets reorganized and DI runs have been frequent.  It feels great.  This weekend my plan is to fill all the nicks, dings and holes in our walls and touch up the paint.  The trim will be included in this.  I can't believe how 4 1/2 years of children will massacre a good paint job.  We are in this house for the long haul and I really want to keep it nice, or at least presentable.  (Now...if someone would just donate new carpet to the cause.  That would be fabulous really.)

I also feel need to clean out the toy closet one more time this weekend.  It's driving my crazy along with my pantry.  But those two places need to be cleaned out almost weekly.  They are both a constant mess.

The best part of my nesting is that Grady's room is almost ready.  His bed is up, dresser is empty and ready for baby boy clothes, and the glider is in position.  It looks pretty cute, even with nothing hung on the walls.

Have I mentioned we've named this baby boy Grady?

Grady Paul Dixon is our name of choice.  

(It feels so fun to type it and see it in print!)

Unless he comes and absolutely does not look like a Grady in any shape or form, that will be his name.

We had a darling neighbor in Virginia with a little boy named Grady and I have loved the name ever since.  It was one of my secret choices for Colby...but I was overruled.

Other names Steve and I considered were:

Beck Walker Dixon

Wright Paul Dixon

Dash Walker Dixon

Wright is my paternal grandmother's maiden name, Paul is my father's middle name and my grandfather's first name and Walker...well that is just obvious.

I would say these names over and over in my head and none of them would stick.  Steve's first pick was Dash...but we were a little worried Dash Dixon sounded too much like a cartoon superhero or a car salesman.  (Plus...what if he ran really slow?  You have to think about these things!)

Steve and I were laying in bed one night stewing over names (Steve was half asleep and I was stewing) when I mentioned Grady.  Steve said he liked it...and that was that.

Grady Paul it is.

(It's stinking fun that my sister just named her little guy Grant Paul Walker Smith.  Let's hope my mother can keep them straight)

Last to mention today...the science fair is in six weeks.

I can feel it looming.

If it doesn't put me into labor early, nothing will.

Colby

Colby Virge Dixon was born April 25, 2006 at Henrico Doctors Hospital in Richmond Virgina.

(in the room right next door where Carter was born 2 1/2 years earlier)

My doctor and I "planned" an induction that morning where I came into her office at 8am with my water "already" broken.   This is all code for her breaking my water in her office and sending me two floors up to labor and delivery.  She was sneaky and I loved her for it. 

My mom had flown out to Virginia and was with me that day.  Steve unfortunately (or fortunately...depending on how he looks at it) had boat load of tests that day.  Surprise Surprise.   One of them being a lab thing that previously had been stated that NOBODY was allowed to miss come hell or high water.  It was only when Steve told his professor that his wife was in the hospital in labor did she kick Steve out and scold him for not being with me.  I have a fondness for that professor to this day.

So the story goes that obviously I walked into labor and delivery with my mom.  My nurse later confessed to me that all the nurses took bets on my age when I walked in.  They settled on 17 and were very surprised and relieved when they found out that

 1. I was 28

2. on my third child

3. all of which had the same father

4. who I had been married to the entire time

What these nurses see I'm sure would shock me to death.

My labor was pretty mild and I spent the morning watching daytime TV (boring) while my mom sat in the chair wearing everything she brought plus my robe because she was freezing.  Oh how I wish I would have taken a picture of her croqueting in my bathrobe!   I, of course, was sweating up a storm.

Around 3 pm things starting rolling.

Steve walked in 15 minutes before Colby was born...and the nurses started cheering.  They gave him a standing ovation.  They also couldn't stop talking about how much he looked like Edward Norton.  I was ticked...what about the lady on the bed in labor...hello?!  (Sad that present active fathers at that hospital must have been a rare occurrence.)

I remember my contractions becoming overwhelming despite my epidural and I started yelling at Steve to quit telling me what to do.  For craps sakes...I didn't want to focus on his face!   My mom and Steve high-fived each other and pronounced me in transition.  They were dirty jerks.

Colby was born just a few minutes later.

I loved my doctor and nurse that day.  They both listened to me when I said "Once I hit a 7...it's all over in 15 minutes."  And it was.  They were ready and things went very smooth.

Colby was the first baby I was allowed to hold right after he was born.  Both Carter and Andrew were whisked away due to breathing problems.  I was taken back with how hot and sticky Colby was.  It was a new sensation to me.  New and wonderful.

7 lbs 6 oz and all boy!

Yep...we were in love.

(For the record, having your hair in french braids like a 9 year old school girl is the BEST way to labor.  It was completely out of my way the entire time...even if I looked like I had been through a tornado after.  Thanks Mom, six years later, for braiding my hair.  Can you do it again when I'm having this next one?)

Dr. Dausch and the Dixon family.

Loved this woman!

Like all Wimpy White Dixon Boys, Colby started having a little trouble breathing and was taken to the intermediate nursery.  He was back by the time I was taken to my room.

My  wonderful mother brought the boys up to see their brother that evening.

Andrew was so proud!

First "family of five" photo.

My recovery room was a double room and we were lucky not to have to share with anyone.  This is the view I had of Steve almost every minute he was at the hospital with me.  Poor guy was in his 2nd year of school and studied non-stop.   I'm so grateful he worked so hard in school to get through and support our family.  It couldn't have been easy for him.

It think he might have even gotten less sleep than I did in the next few months.

Carter's brown eyes are so cute I had to include this picture.

Now...if only Andrew felt this way about Colby now.

Maybe he didn't study the entire time.

There is no questioning the paternity of this child. 

Definitely, definitely a Dixon!

Colby's quote of the day

Said by my six year old after being served green beans stir-fried with mushrooms and bacon:

"What a waste of perfectly good bacon!"

I am so proud...but he did eat the beans and the bacon.

Our Christmas holidays when we lived in Virginia

2003

Our first Christmas in Virginia wasn't in Virginia at all.  My little sister Jolyn got married so we flew home to Idaho for her wedding and to spend Christmas with family.   Blah blah...no pictures...what else is new.  Carter was a tiny (but humoungous) baby and Andrew was an adorable three year old.  

2004

 Our second Christmas in Virginia was in 2004 where we lived at our bottom of the hill apartment in Meadowbrook.  Steve grew up with real trees and I grew up with fake trees...quite the marital clash.  We had never purchased a real tree before because my mom is extremely allergic to the smell of pine.  The poor woman becomes miserable with headaches and a horrible stuffy nose.  My mom wasn't coming to Virginia this year, so we got our first real tree.  Steve was in heaven.   My mom sewed a bunch of scrap Christmas material together for me and mailed it across the country so I could braid them together and have cute garland.  I made my own gingerbread cookies and dried orange slices for ornaments.   It turned out beautiful. 

We asked Santa very nicely to come a few days early this year because Steve's parents were flying to Virginia and we were spending Christmas eve and Christmas day in Williamsburg...their treat.

 Santa did not disappoint and our little boys were spoiled as usual.

Santa even ventured into our scary basement and delivered the best train table ever!  Andrew had only ever seen the display trains in stores where all the pieces were screwed or glued down and exclaimed as he saw the table, "Mom, the pieces aren't screwed!!"  To actually play with the trains was more than this little boy could handle.  Carter, I think, just made messes.

Christmas in Williamsburg was amazing despite it being bitter cold.  We had never experienced humid cold before and let me tell you there IS a difference.  I wanted to die I was so cold.  

Our weekend in Williamsburg was beautiful (and cold) and we spent most of our time eating and enjoying the beautifully simple authentic Williamsburg Christmas decorations.  At night there were huge bonfires to warm up by and caroling.  We ate Christmas Eve dinner at a restaurant called Shields Tavern.  Our reservation was for around 7 pm, but we didn't eat until almost 9pm  This was not an easy feat for two little boys who adhered to a strict 8 pm bedtime.

 My favorite part of dinner was the pumpkin soup that Steve's mom and I found the recipe in a cookbook the next day and memorized so we wouldn't have to buy the entire book.
Still have the recipe.

Sadly, the above picture is the only one I have from the trip.

2005

This year was full of Christmas festivities and we played hard both in Virginia and then traveled for a Dixon reunion/ wedding/Walker Christmas.

 This picture was taken at our Meadowbrook Ward Christmas Party.

I love Andrew's hand gesture in this shot...he's getting his point across to Santa for sure!

Carter was not quite as comfy with the Big Man.

Another fun part of Christmas that year was the parade in downtown Richmond.

Notice that I am not pictured among our friends and family.   I was pregnant with Colby as was not about to be cold and around people.  Not much has changed.  Steve has always been wonderful and makes sure our kids experience real life despite their mother's reservations.

Love my boys!  

(For the record...we still have that yellow Oshkosh coat.  All four of our children have worn it and the fifth will too.  That was a good investment.)

The week or so before Christmas we flew to San Diego for a Dixon family reunion.

The weather was beautiful and the house we rented was right across the street from where this picture was taken.

While we were in San Diego we were sure to visit the Mormon Battalion Visitor Center.  My Grandma and Grandpa Walker had served their mission there just four years earlier, and I had visited them with my mom and sister JaNae when I was pregnant with Andrew.

(what is up with me and being pregnant in San Diego?)

Andrew and Carter were big into the guns.

Cute Dixon cousins with Grandma purchased treats.  Oh yeah!

After the reunion we flew to Salt Lake where my mom picked us up and took us to my parents' house to stay for the holiday.

I was put right to work...what else is new.  :)

My mom gets suckered into making orange rolls almost every year for my dad to give out to other optometry offices for Christmas gifts.  I was more than willing to help her out, but taking sarcastic pictures for my dad's benefit is just what we do.

We warned Santa that we would not be in Virginia again...

 and he was nice enough to find us in Idaho.

 Christmas was good- as were my boys apparently...they made a haul.  So much, that we had to ship a few of their gifts UPS as we couldn't get them to fit in our suitcases.

The best part of that Christmas season was attending Spencer and Eden's wedding.

What a gorgeous couple!

My mom and dad kept Andrew and Carter for the few days we were in Salt Lake for the wedding, hence why they are not pictured with the other beautiful Dixon grandchildren.

Our flights were funny on the way home and we again returned to San Diego and spent the night before we boarded the plane to fly back to Virginia.

We spent the time walking the boardwalks and looking at the boats.  The kids loved it almost as much as they loved jumping on the hotel beds. 

2006

We stayed in Virginia in 2006.  We no longer lived in the Meadowbrook apartment at the bottom of the hill, but had moved to one at the very top.  (The flooding had "nothing" to do with it.)

 Steve's brother Gary had a Santa suit that he brought over Christmas Eve that we bribed Steve to try on.

 The kids loved it.

 Even the neighbor kids loved it. 

But...I think its pretty obvious you are not the REAL Santa Steve.  Your black mustache gives you away like nothing else.

 Maybe this kid could pass.

New Christmas Eve pjs.

 Milk, cookies and carrots for Santa and his reindeer.

 He came!  He came!

 We have Idaho boys!  Of course Santa brought guns.

 Baby Colby

 Andrew

 Aunt JaNae sent the best gifts however.   Spanking brand new Book of Mormons with the boys names on them.  Still use them to this day!

2007

In February of 2007 we had moved back to the west end of Richmond.  It's a long drawn out story that involved diabetes and a whole mess of other factors, but we LOVED our new town house on Thistlebrook Ln.  Loved it.  It had light...tons of light and there is no way I could have managed to stay sane in our dark Meadowbrook apartments dealing with a three year old diabetic.  This apartment is the the apartment that both Steve and I stay was our most favorite place to live ever.

We loved it.

We loved our neighbors, Andrew's school, our ward, our callings...everything.

I don't ever think I had ever been as happy as I was living here.  Maybe it had something to do with flourishing among our trials.   Our life was the hardest living here, but the best.

But I digress...back to Christmas.

Steve once again got his real tree.

Can I just say how much I adore his love of real trees?  He's like a five year old filled with Christmas giddiness.  Needless to say, we will be getting a real tree in 2013.  I've already promised.

Colby was not filled with giddiness when we visited Santa at the Richmond Children's Museum.

I promise nobody was biting or pinching him.

In this picture either for that matter.

Maybe he just doesn't like cameras.

These were the most darling Christmas pj's ever.  My mom made them and sent them for the boys.  We still have ALL of them and they have been handed down accordingly.

 Lego mania started early.

Sadly, this CD player came broken and had to be returned a few days later.  What was Santa thinking? He should have stuck with Legos.

Noisy baby toys.

Oh joy.  Thanks a lot Santa.

 Traditional sugar cereal Christmas breakfast.

 Wait a darn minute.  Were those Legos for the little boys or for Steve?