family dynamics

The relationship between Andrew and Grady has been such a fun one to watch.

I never realized having 12 years in between children could create a dynamic so wonderful, special, and unique.

 Andrew has bonded with his baby brother in a "Don't worry, I'll take care of you" way that I thoroughly enjoy.  It's a breath of fresh air compared to other relationships between brothers in this house that are perfectly normal, but not so sweet at times.

 When Andrew is home, he has Grady in his arms.  It's been a fantastic help when I am busy making dinner, working on chores, or helping other kids.  This morning even, Andrew came into my room at 6 am right after I was finished feeding Grady.  "Can I take him Mom?"  He cradled Grady and let me go back to sleep.  

What 12 year old does that?

Andrew also has the gift to make Grady smile faster than anyone else.  It's one of the cutest things I have ever seen.

Thank you Andrew for being a wonderful big brother and pure example of love and service in our home.  I appreciate you!

One other relationship I never imagined would be this great?

Apparently to Saylor, nutella and multigrain chips are the bomb.

(I just had to add this picture because I think her dark eyes and pigtails are the bomb.)

How are we coping...

Many people have asked in the past few days how my parents are doing and how I am doing. 

Well, I think we are all just coping.

Yesterday I coped with gf chocolate cake with frosting so thick some of my kids complained. (Who do they think they are???  Frosting too thick?  Blasphemy.)

Today I'm coping with this and a huge Cafe Rio salad.

(I must say that the Diet Mountain Dew in the beer cans are insanely large.  I haven't cracked them open yet...mostly because I feel like I'm sinning just holding it.)

Both were brought over by loving friends who visited and fed me calorically and emotionally at the same time.  I love you girls!!!  Being with both of you relieved a lot of stress today.  Thank you.

Thank you for listening today about my fears and anxiety about life at the moment.

The main fear I have at the moment involves this wonderful man and this darling baby.

It includes these two cuties too.

The thought of my three youngest children not knowing my dad is eating me alive.

If the worst happened with Dad's cancer, Andrew and Carter would remember Dad.

Colby would too...but not to the same extent.

Saylor and Grady would be a different story.

Both my parents are so special to me and the relationships they have with my children are priceless.

The relationship I had with my grandparents was priceless.

This last week, if nothing else, has put life in perspective.

Life is precious.

Relationships with those we love and cherish are the most valued thing we have been granted in this life.  

Never ever ever take them for granted.   Ever.

As I watched my kids interact with my dad yesterday night, I wished for time to stand still. 

Come on...who wouldn't want to examine nose hairs with their grandpa forever??

Man oh man this Grandpa is loved and adored.

...as are his stories.

Dad had Saylor enamored for a good portion of the night talking about everything from Muffer Dog (our loyal childhood pet) to stinky owl encounters.   

Seriously?

Is this not the cutest picture in the entire world?

I think Saylor has a good chance of winning the award of Grandpa's biggest fan!

Love you Dad.  Hang in there...please.

views from the dental chair

 Earlier last week Saylor, Grady and I picked Steve up from work for a quick lunch run.  When we brought him back he had enough time to check both our mouths.

Just like always, having babies kills my teeth and I will be having multiple cavities fixed this next week.  Saylor after her exam was given a clean bill of dental health, but getting her to sit for the exam was harder than the exam itself.

 We ended up putting Saylor on my lap, setting her up with headphones and turning on Netflix.

My Little Pony was her show of choice.  (He brothers call it Scrawny and Bony...so now she does too.)

 The view from where we were sitting.

 The view from where Steve was sitting.

 

After her cleaning, Saylor still wanted to watch Scrawny and Bony.

We obliged.

(Can I just add how much I love Steve's new office.  The headphones and Netflix alone are worth going for.   I'm going to have to think of something good to watch for my appointment next week.)

Also...here is the obligatory Grady update.

 Grady with his usual crazy hair.

Grady with his hair combed down.

This boy just isn't the same without his out of control head of hair.

The crazy hair wins.

(It doesn't stay down anyway...no matter how hard I try and make it.)

Taba Taba Taba Shi.......

My dad had a patient when I was growing up that suffered from a tourettes, had a stroke, or suffered from another syndrome that rendered him unable to say anything but something to the effect of..."Taba taba taba, shiiiitttttt."

My dad spoke of this patient with a hushed reverence, if one of the funniest saddest things known to mankind could be reverent.   He would describe slightly one sided conversations with this man where my dad would spin tales of his last fishing or hunting trip and this poor soul would only answer in "Taba taba taba shiiittttt."

I have found in my adult life that my "only" true character flaw is my inability to contain swear words when I am extremely stressed.  I hate this about myself.  Sadly, it's something I work on fixing on a daily basis.   I grew up with the principle that swearing is a sign of a weak mind trying to express itself.  I'm weak minded...oh so weak.

This week has been one where the swear words have flowed like water.  My brother Jon with attest to this one.  It's been a week where I wish I had a syndrome that allowed me to spew my lovely obscenities without guilt or social awkwardness.

My dad was diagnosed this week  with invasive pancreatic ductal carcinoma.

Taba Taba Taba shiiiittttt.

Dad hasn't been feeling well for a few months.   The past few weeks he started suffering from increased fatigue, lack of appetite and general itchiness....yes itchiness.  He went to the doctor Tuesday night and had blood drawn.  Wednesday he was admitted to the hospital here in Twin because his liver enzymes were extremely high...and he had started turning yellow.  The itchiness was a side effect of increased billiruben levels in his blood.

Laproscopic surgery confirmed that a bile duct was indeed plugged, but unfortunately the surgeon was unable to open it.  Biopsy's were taken of the abnormal tissue blocking the duct and on Friday morning our fears were confirmed.  The tissue was malignant.  Dad had surgery Friday in Boise where doctors installed an internal port through his liver to drain the bile that had been backing up for who knows how long because of the clogged duct.

...he lost 12 lbs from the drainage.  Um. Yeah.  Poor guy was miserable!  

In three to four weeks Dad will have a very complicated surgery called a Whipple procedure that will remove the cancerous duct along with part of his stomach, pancreas, and small intestine.  His healthy bile duct will then rerouted to his small intestine again.  This surgery is dangerous and wrought with possible side effects.  It is also has an extremely painful recovery because of its invasive nature.  After he recovers from the Whipple, he will have to endure chemotherapy and radiation.

 I'm scared, nervous and at times I feel so out of control.  (Hence the swearing)  

I found the best coping mechanism for me (beside the potty mouth) is not letting my mind think about it.   Thinking means accepting and accepting means trouble, crying and four letter word dropping.

Friday I let myself cry.   I  cried until my eyes were puffy, swollen and itchy.  I cried because I know what a pancreatic cancer means.  It's aggressive, unforgiving, and mean.  If a tumor like this metastasizes, it does so with a vengeance.    Steve while comforting me stated, "Jill, he's not gone yet!"  As insensitive as this may seem, (I'll be honest, I wanted to punch him) I know he didn't mean it insensitively.  Steve deals with things better than me.  He always sees the bright side.  He is the perpetual optimist.  He encouraged me to to not worry until I have to.   And he is right.

The bright side is that luckily, my dad's cancer was undetectable on MRI  and CT scan.   It's still very small.  When he has surgery to remove the tumor, the doctors will test to see if it has spread to the surrounding lymph nodes.  If those come back clean, his prognosis is good.  If they are not...well how about I just don't go there.

However, all optimism aside, this diagnosis comes just a year after my sister's colon cancer diagnosis.  She in her treatment has been to a fiery place I can't imagine.  Now, we must watch as my dad experiences the same hell.   Words can't describe.

I don't write a lot about spiritual things or feelings.  I struggle putting into words how I feel about things I find sacred. (Titling this post with a swear word inhibits my validity anyway)   But all coping with inappropriateness  put on the back burner,  I am so grateful for my knowledge of a loving Heavenly Father.   I have faith that He is in control.  This faith is what is keeping me from crumbling.  I'm clinging to it with all my might.   I know that whatever happens with my dad and family is His will.  I know that trials are necessary to refine us.  They show what we are made of.   We will be refined and made stronger better when we persevere and survive.  We will be blessed if we choose to use our trials and sufferings as a way to show our obedience.   Will we collapse under the weight or hold strong and triumph no matter the burden?  I want to hold strong.

But it's hard to be strong all the time.  When I haven't been keeping myself occupied in the past few days is when my mind starts to wander and think.  I think about the worse case scenario...losing my dad.   It's unimaginable.  My dad is a pillar of greatness in my life.   He's a rock of stability, the voice of reason, the Common Sense King.   I'm positive my siblings will agree with me in saying that our dad is hands down the best.  No contest.  A world without him is world I wouldn't quite know how to understand.

So...tonight as I write my feelings down sloppily while trying not to get car sick as our family drives back from Utah, I hope my Dad knows how much I love him.  I hope he knows how much he will be in my prayers.  I hope he knows how much I wish I could fix this trial or take it away from him.  I also hope he knows how much I admire him for handling the last few days with such grace and humility.  I love you Dad.

...and I'm sorry I swore on my blog.  It's par for the course this week.

Added note:  My sister and brother in law started a blog for my dad.  We're hoping to keep it updated so friends and family can follow Dad's journey.   It's called Kicking Cancer in the Pancreas.   It can be found here.

I'm too old to show my face in teenage clothing stores

 I felt really old last night.

I took Andrew shopping for a new swimsuit (the need was dire) last night and he requested his favorite clothing store, American Eagle.

We ended up perusing the sales racks and I had Andrew try on a few shirts and pants in addition to a  much needed suit.

I felt a sensation I have never experienced before in a store...I DID NOT belong.  Nothing there appealed to my liking for myself and the clothes were not those for little children in which I have been purchasing for more than a decade.  I was in a teenager store and I was intruding on teenagery space.  Even the sales people (sales children) made me uncomfortable.  The generation gap between them and me could have been the Grand Canyon for how I felt. 

I don't have adolescent acne, sweaty armpits and greasy hair.  I won't wear off the shoulder 80's shirts that have sadly come back in style, I think $12 is an atrocious price for a pair of underwear, and I wish I could have punched out my eardrums because the music playing was absolutely awful. 

I'm old...and I felt creepy (lots of creepiness around here lately) hanging around why my son tried on clothing.  

I'm sure that had nothing to do with me holding the camera ready so I could get a shot of him before he protested after he came out of the dressing room.  ...because that isn't creepy at all.

However, no matter how out of place I was or felt, I was the one paying...so I had to be there invading my son's teenage world.  I'll take what I can get while he'll still tolerate my presence.  Having money to buy him clothing goes a long way.

I did learn something new about my oldest child.  He really likes to shop for clothes...but not in a women's (aka old lady) store.  He wouldn't even walk into stores that didn't have clothing for him.  He acted like they were infested with lice and leprosy, along with a large dose of cholera and plague. 

This snobbery coming from a boy who may or may not be picking his nose is a little high and mighty if you ask me.

All old lady feelings on the back burner...I'm grateful I don't want or have to shop in these stores anymore.  Any store that calls a pair of pants tiny enough to fit a barbie doll a size 4 is a store that doesn't need my money.  I prefer the stores that "alter" their sizes to make me feel better about myself!

smiles, cookies and landcruisers

Andrew bolted into the kitchen yesterday morning begging for my phone.

"Grady is totally smiling!"

He came back with these blurry, goofy, but still adorable, shots.

 Yep...the boy's hair line is running for the hills.

Grow new hair.  Grow!

 This smile is so Carter.

Grady might be his blue eyed twin.

 Tweaked a cookie recipe today that is worth sharing.

Why-oh-why can't I stay home and make cookies all day every day?  It would be my dream job.

Chocolate Coconut Cashew Cookies.

Yes...they are as good as they sound and gluten free.

This makes a HUGE batch...even bigger if you don't eat any of the dough. (fat chance at my house)

1/2 C. butter

3/4 C shortening

1 1/2 C sugar

1 1/2 C brown sugar

3 eggs

1 T vanilla

1 1/2 tsp salt  

1 1/2 tsp baking soda

1/2 cocoa powder

1 1/2 C oat flour

1 1/2 C Maninis gluten free flour

1 1/2 C Domata gluten free flour

 toffee chips  (found in baking aisle or crush toffee candy bars)

milk chocolate chips

coconut covered cashews (from costco) coarsely chopped

350 degrees for 10-11 minutes

...for all of you not lucky enough to have gluten intolerance, use approx. 4 cups white flour instead of the oat, Maninis and Domata flour.

This picture is proof of how much I love my husband.  Saw this land cruiser in my rear view mirror last Friday.  It pulled up next to me at the stop light.  I had to sneak a picture with my phone while the driver wasn't looking to text to Steve.  Felt creepy the entire time I was doing so.  

I promise Sir, I wasn't stalking you...just your sweet ride.

backtracking through our weekend

 When Steve doesn't have church meetings, Sunday mornings (at least for me because I sleep in) are pretty great.   Our morning is lazy and quiet.  It then usually turns into a mad crazy dash to get ready for church...but the few lazy hours are worth it.

Favorite part???

Steve has mastered bacon on the smoker.

Delicious bacon with no mess in my kitchen!

Win Win.

Carter's favorite??

When Steve adds Nestle's chocolate powder to a half gallon of milk just like his dad did when Steve was growing up.  

The kids love when Steve makes breakfast.

 This boy gets his own breakfast these days.  He's usually finished eating before I get out of bed...and after watching him pour his bowl of cereal this morning, I now know why.  

He doesn't want me to know.

Oh. My. Heck.

His bowl was HUGE.

So huge I asked Steve to weigh it before he added milk to see how many servings he was really eating.

4.

He eats 4 servings of cereal in one sitting.

 Which means...he can eat a box of Chocolate Chex in three mornings.

No wonder I can't keep enough cereal in our house.

Earlier this weekend was Fathers and Sons for our ward at Bear Gulch.

 Steve took a picture of his set up.

The three boys slept in the top of the tent with Steve sleeping on a cot in the bottom part.

Steve loves this trailer/tent combo.

 Besides getting rained on the boys said it was their most favorite camping trip ever.

Mostly because of the massive airsoft war they had with the rest of the boys in our ward.

Each of my kids came home with a few battle scars from short range hits in the form of welts and broken skin.  I don't think they believed me when I said they could hurt eachother.

This boy came home the victor.  Andrew said that Carter wasn't very fast at reloading his gun...but he was deadly accurate.  "Mom...his aim was amazing.  He hit us every time!"

The story goes that Carter hid in the trees and bided his time.  

I've always known it was the little ones you had to watch out for...now the older boys know too.

 I'm so grateful Steve is willing to take our children on camping trips like this one.  He is making the best memories for them.

(even more grateful I was able to stay home)

So what did I do on Saturday with my boys away??

I cleaned.

Swept, mopped, dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed bathrooms and washed bedding.

It felt really good to get so much accomplished.

This closet was my crowing glory.  I took a picture because it won't be this clean for long.

This closet and me have a history...a history of yelling and punishments.  My kids and their "normal" behavior of shoving things wherever the feel when they clean is typical and it drives me batty!

(My mom is laughing her head off right now I know it.)

Anyhoo...the boys got home Saturday afternoon right when I was dumping bins and reorganizing.

Andrew stood at the top of the stairs and said, "You know it's going to be bad when mom is downstairs cleaning."

Now I am laughing my head off because I felt the EXACT same way when my mom would come downstairs and see the messes we had made.

For the record, there was minimal anger on my part about the toys.  A few may have been thrown away and donated to the DI, but I didn't yell once...

Not even when I found Colby's dirty sock and underwear in the dress-up bin.  

(think twice about playing with our dress-ups)

Wow.

It's fun to play with toys when they are clean and organized.

1.  you have all the pieces needed.

2.  No dirty sock.

Not from this weekend are pictures of Colby's "birthday party" taken the weekend of Grady's blessing.

Steve took Colby and his cousins Wes and AJ to the movies and then out to dinner.

I found these pictures on Steve's phone when I was loading the camping pictures.

This might be my favorite picture of the "party".

It shows the true nature of three little boys...jumping around like ninnies!

Or maybe this is my favorite.

Pure Mayhem.

Steve is so much fun.  Much more than me I tell ya.

Kid's meals AND a play land...lucky little punks.

Took this crowing beauty last night in Andrew's room.  I was helping him put on clean sheets when he took a break to talk to his little brother.

Side note...if anyone is wondering why Andrew in a previous picture is looking at a house plan while stuffing his face with four servings of cereal, let me tell you.

I have the house building bug.  

Bad.

I've been thinking about it and obsessing since Grady was born.  My house is perfect except for one "minor" thing.  

My kitchen.

It's painfully small for a family of seven.

Unfortunately, the longer I think about it, the more I realize building a new house is not a reality right now...its a dream.  A wonderful larger kitchen, decent carpet, lovely fireplace dream.

Steve has put my dreaming in the same category of his new land cruiser dreaming.

For shame Steve...for shame.

We've survived the first half of May.  I consider this a massive accomplishment as May is one of the craziest months around.  

We are over scheduled with life.

This week Andrew had his band concert Monday night, a track meet Tuesday and a field trip Wednesday.  I had church meetings Wednesday night, Steve has church meetings tonight, Colby took swim lessons every day this week...and so on and so forth.

I look at my calendar for the rest of the month and want to cry a little.

Steve will be in Boise tomorrow for work meetings and will come home late and then immediately leave with the three oldest for Fathers and Sons.

Add homework and music practice to all of this and I might just lose my mind.

...but it's all good stuff.  

...not sure I can cut any of it out. 

The following are a few tidbits (in crappy pictures) from the last week.

They're proof we're still rolling.

 Andrew and Carter had their last piano recital with their current teacher last Saturday.

Steve was working and I was on my own to get five kids ready by 10 am by myself.

We made it.  I think I deserve a medal or something.

 Their wonderful teacher is having a sweet baby boy this summer and will no longer be teaching.

I have found a new teacher for Andrew but have agreed to let Carter quit piano.  I think one instrument per child is all I should be doing.  I will miss Carter's cute self on the piano.

However, hearing him play a Beatles song on the guitar makes up for it!

I'm having to fix Saylor's hair differently these days.  Relaxed piggies in the back work and still cover some of the sheered parts on the sides.  It's a work in progress.

 Little Grady is growing faster than I would like.

But he is still all bendy and cuddly.  Thank goodness.

 Shot of Andrew at his track meet.

Taking the good camera and a baby was more than I could handle.

Sorry Andrew...I'll take decent pictures next year.

 Gymboree had an amazing sale last week.  I spent a wad and got a mountain load of clothes for next summer delivered to my doorstep.  I bought three swimsuits for Saylor for practically nothing.  When she saw them she asked, "Only three?" 

Uh...yeah...I buy her too much stuff.

 I was hoping Grady could wear these shorts this summer.  They were marked 3-6 months.

Sure. Whatever.

What kind of ginormous baby is Gymobree making clothing for?

 Steve had the day off and we took Saylor to get her first ice cream cone ever today.

He ended up having to hold the second one as the first one ended up on the seat next to her.

I may have licked the non-gluteny part of this cone...delicious.

 Poor Grady is loved more than I think he would like by his sister.

 Andrew somehow conned Steve into ordering him and his brothers Airsoft guns.

I was and am still against it.

The boys are not.

They have loved them.  But I think the guns have lowered their intelligence level...they purposely shot eachother in the back just to see what it would feel like.  Carter said it felt "manly."  I may never fully understand the male species.

Please note the safety ski-goggle eye wear.  Nice.

Those of you driving by my home please don't think I've become the crazy plant lady.  Five of these pots belong to my mother.  I am plant-sitting while she is in Seattle babysitting my nephews.

Why no pictures of Colby and hardly any of Carter???

Carter has joined a biker gang of boys who ride around the neighborhood keeping the peace and proving their manhood.

Colby can be found across the street jumping on the neighbor's trampoline and eating their otter-pops.

They only come home for the occasional blood sugar check and snack.

I may never see them this summer.

Each of my children starting with Andrew

My brain has wanted to write this post for a while, but time, energy and mental capacity has kept it at bay.  I've wanted to write about each of my children- about how they are right now at this point in time.   I'm realizing more every day how fleeting their childhood is.  I know in a blink it will be gone.  Oh- how I wish I could bottle it up and save it...only to unseal it later in life and inhale it in its entirety again.  My kids are wonderful.  They are the joy of my life.  They are the reason I came to this earth and I cherish each of them individually.  I realize they are not perfect, but either am I.   And I want them to realize that this imperfection on both our parts is what makes life real.  Real and interesting.  I just hope they forgive me for my imperfections...and laugh about them together as siblings when I am too senile to care.

The Beginning-
Andrew Stephen

Andrew is busy busy busy.  I'm getting a glimpse of the next five years and coming to grips that I will see him less and less as he starts highschool.  His friends and activities will be more important than home life and the few minutes or short hours I see him here and there is all I'll get.  I ask myself all the time if I have done enough for Andrew.  Have I taught him what he needs to know spiritually?  Is his testimony strong enough to carry him through the next five years of middle and high school...and then onto his mission and adulthood?  Have I pushed him enough academically?  Does he realize how important his education is and will he love it enough to get through the next 10-15 years of structured learning?  (Yes Andrew...your dad and I expect that much school)  I only have five years left with Andrew before he leaves for his mission.  Only five.  When he was born almost thirteen years ago...18 years seemed like forever.  Now I'm wishing I could turn back the clock and relive a few of those years.  Andrew was and is a very cute little boy...oh I mean young man.

Andrew right now is doing very well in 7th grade.  He gets almost all A's on his report care with a B scattered here and there.  He is still taking piano lessons and loves playing the trumpet in the school band.  He recently spent his own money and bought Star Wars sheet music.  More nights than not, the "sweet" sound of the trumpet comes from the basement.

Andrew finished up his track season today with an all day track meet at Canyon Ridge.  I took Saylor and Grady and was lucky enough to catch him run the 1200 meter.  He was in the middle of the pack the entire race and finished strong by sprinting the last 100 meters.  He had his best time yet.  I dropped off sunblock while I was there and had to bribe him with $4 to put it on.  He's going to come home crispy. I'm proud that he is willing to participate and enjoy the fun of sports even though his is not necessarily the fastest runner on the team.  There is a lot to learn by having to try hard and improve.

Along with band and track, Andrew is staying busy with YM's and is planning on many campouts this summer.  I signed him up for swim team again that will start the week after school is over.  We have found that exercise is the key to Andrew's happiness.  Also this summer, Andrew will be again mowing my dad's huge lawn for more money than he deserves.   I have bittersweet moments with this job.  I love that Andrew is making his own money and learning responsibility, but frustrated with the time he is gone...he is the BEST babysitter and worker at home.  When he is working for my dad, he is not working for me.  Blast.

Andrew right now has the best group of friends any kid could ask for.  Some are LDS and I'm happy that some are not.  All of these boys, however, are good kids with supportive parents that possess the same standards as us.  Are they normal boys that lose their brains sometimes?  Of course...but they still encourage eachother to do well in school and sports.  They also tease eachother just enough to keep one another humble.

Frustrating to Steve and I (and I'm sure Andrew too) is how we clash with our almost teenager as he strives to be independent and express his ideas of what he finds appropriate in speech, dress, and activity.  For instance,  Andrew so desperately wants to watch pg-13 movies and Steve and I have a strict policy of having to approve them first before he can partake.  I sometimes feel that we are the only parents who are this strict and Andrew feels the same way.   I abhor violence and want to shield my 12 year old from scenes and images that I know his brain is not ready to comprehend or manage.  I hope Andrew one day will understand why I am the way I am.   I also hope he will forgive me for the social outcast status he most likely feels I have given him.

Also on my frustration list (and his too) is Andrew's tendency to parent our other children.  Many a time he will get after one of his siblings with Steve or I present (or not present but withing earshot).   We realize his siblings are younger and can be extremely annoying to him, but scolding or demeaning them is unacceptable in our home.   This is a difficult situation, because I do leave Andrew in charge at times when I am going to be gone for a short time.  It can't be easy taking off the responsibility cap for a 12 year old...this is one of the reasons I don't like to leave my children on their own very often.

The last of my frustrations with Andrew at this time is his ability to go from normal to obnoxious in .2 seconds.  However, coming back down from obnoxious to normal is a much longer transition.  I completely understand that this behavior is age appropriate (I use the word appropriate loosely), but that fact doesn't make the constant noise and taunting siblings any easier to take.  I'll be relieved when Andrew grows out of this phase (years...it's going to be years)...especially the part of it that involves him speaking in a "Smeagal" voice from Lord of the Rings.  Kill me!   In the meantime I am praying for tolerance and having him exercise more.

My favorite things about Andrew?

His laugh.  His kindness.  His drive to do his best.  His desire to do what he knows is right.  His ability to stand up for what he believes in.  His willingness to help his dad and I around the house and yard.  His strong work ethic.  His love for his youngest siblings and compassion he shows for them.  (He reads Saylor bedtimes stories more than I do now)  His reverence for sacred things.   When he comes up at night after the other kids are asleep to say good night to Steve and I, he always hugs me and tells me he loves me.   The talks we have one on one where he opens up and shares his feelings and confides in me things he finds important.

Quirks I find fun and hilarious about Andrew?

How he spends WAY too much time on his hair in the morning.  His voice and how it has deepened the last six months.  How five different kinds of deodorant are still not enough- he wants more.  His sudden interest in clothing and style.   His ability to down six muffins for breakfast and still be hungry.  (I envy his metabolism)   His gratitude for the shabby excuse of a room with no carpet and a mattress thrown on the floor.   His massive feet (even though I dread them getting even bigger)  His sudden interest in cooking and making things for himself.

Mother's Day Gifts

Yesterday when they realized I was awake, Carter and Colby rushed in to give me their school made gifts.  I must admit, I love these gifts more than anything.  They are priceless beyond priceless.

I actually mourn the loss over my first born son being to old to make these anymore and scream with delight that Saylor and Grady haven't even started making them...I have their entire grade school ahead of me!  Hurray!

 To save these beauties for all posterity, I figures I'd post them here.

 This is got to be the funniest thing I have ever seen brought home from school.

It is laminated to last through the ages.  

It came with a hand written note which read, 

"Dear Mom,

You are the best Mom ever!  Thank you for all your help.  You can do any thing!  I hope you like my pacture.  I'm so lucky to have as my mom.  My favrote dinner you make is babaqu pork sandwich.  I love you so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so much I going to die!!!!!!!!!

Your, son Carter"

 (Nope, I don't edit these letters.  The mistakes make them all the more special as do the million "so"'s)

 Colby brought me this beauty.

It came with a hand written poem, 

"Dear Mom, I will love you forever, And forever you will be the most wonderful mother, You mean everything to me.  I thought of buying you flowers in the usual way, But I knew you would prefer a FOREVER BOUQUET!!!!"

 Colby then brought this home from church.

The ones that need a little clarifying are...

"My Mom Teaches Me:  cindness " (kindness)

and

"My Mom Is As Beautiful As:  A hoose  (horse)

I'm interpreting Colby's comparison of beauty as liking me to a fancy racehorse that is worth tens of thousands of dollars...not an old nag of a horse in some random pasture.

I'm also realizing through this letter that Colby is big into food.  He likes my cookies.

 Saylor made me this in church.

Love this girl (and her primary teachers too).

This little peanut, like all my babies, is the best Mother's Day present.

I held him with added appreciation yesterday.

I'm grateful for the miracle that each of my children are.  

I'm grateful for my own mother and the sacrifices she has made (still makes) for me.  She is an amazing mother that I strive to be like.  A more selfless example of motherhood I can not imagine.  She had devoted her entire adult life to me, my four siblings and our families.   We are truly blessed to have her in our lives.

I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who created mothers- what a divine roll He has placed upon me.

I will be forever humbled knowing the responsibility placed in my hands as a mother of His precious spirits.