Such Sad News...

For members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, this is not news to you. For those who are not members of our church, who may be interested to know, the Prophet and President of the "Mormon" church died today (1/27/08) at the age of 97. I still remember the day the previous prophet died. It was 1995. I found out while I was at work and realized that Gordon B. Hinckley would be the new prophet. I didn't know a whole lot about him. Over these 12 years I have grown to love this man so, so much. He truly had a love for the Savior, for the gospel of Jesus Christ, and for the people of our church, located throughout the whole world. He was funny and witty, loved his wife enormously, and always spoke so highly of women and the divine role that we play in this world. He will be greatly missed. For more on his life and passing, you can click here. If you're curious what happens in our church when a prophet dies and a new one is needed, click here.

I am so grateful to be a member of this Church and to have a prophet to lead and guide us. I am also grateful to know that even though he has passed on, this Church will continue to thrive and go forth as it has from the beginning. God, our Heavenly Father, and His Son, Jesus Christ, are at the head of it and that will remain constant as the years pass and our leaders do, too. If you'd like to know more about our Church but feel reluctant to ask a member of it, you can click here for lots of great information.

Sorry...

...if it sounded like I was lecturing last night. :-) I was a little emotional and I committed the sin of not re-reading what I wrote before publishing it. It's obviously something I'm very passionate about and I just want everyone to be as informed as possible so that they can help others through situations like we have been in. There are very few friends and family members who, over these past years, have not been afraid to talk about Dallin with us. We hold these few so dear for helping us through our darkest time.

Oregonian Special Report

I'm not sure where to start with this. There are a whole lot of emotions that go into this post and some of you may be surprised to read some things I may say here after so many years. But I feel really strongly that I should share this. Michael and I were introduced to a support group for bereaved parents of pregnancy and infant loss after Dallin was born. It is called Brief Encounters. It is a wonderful organization and provides a lot of therapy for parents who have had babies die, in that you realize you are not alone and it is safe to talk about your child who died because there is so much empathy in the room. So, in this month's Brief Encounters newsletter I learned about a special report that The Oregonian did called When a Baby Dies. You can find it here. I have read and listened to most of what is on these web pages and they really hit home. Dallin would be eight years old this coming May but when I think about him or read stories of other parents losing their children or see pictures of babies who have passed, the pain sometimes comes flooding back as heart wrenching and raw as the day he was born. There is nothing in the world like losing a child. And although it is nice to know that we are not alone, I don't want anyone else joining this club. I read stories of perfect strangers losing their babies and my heart aches for them and their loss as if it were my own. I just don't deal well with babies dying. And you may think that after all these many years, I would have a better grip on it.

Anyway, I don't want this post to be so long that people stop reading. What I want to say is that there is some really good information on The Oregonian's website to help people better understand what it feels like to lose a baby. And while I don't want anyone else to ever really feel it, I know, personally, how important it is that the people around me have been and are still understanding of what I went through and go through still. I'm pretty sure that almost all of us will be affected by the loss of a baby at some time in our lives. For most people, it won't be their own. But, as one of the articles states, one in 200 births are stillbirths. Then you also have the babies who die shortly after birth due to defects and conditions that take their lives. That's a lot. And the understanding of friends and family members can really help pull these parents out of their darkness. So, as many of you will be faced with dealing with a family member or a friend who is grieving, I urge you to take some time, if you have any available to peruse through this information. It could really make all the difference to someone you love.

As I am an emotional wreck right now and my feelings are very tender, I want to express my gratitude for our son, Dallin. He was our first, who we were so excited for. He brought so much joy to our lives and made our marriage even stronger in his death. Although probably my deepest desire in life is that I could have Dallin to raise, I realize that our family is what it is now, and we have the love for each other that we do, because we have lost. I am deeply grateful for Michael who, still today, stops when he sees me crying and throws his arms around me and lets me cry. He's been doing it for nearly eight years now and I'm sure it will continue for another eight or more. Thank you, Mikey. And how could I live without Evan and Maren? Losing Dallin has made me realize the incredible blessing that children are. Of course we have our bumpy days but I feel a connection to these kids that I would've never though possible. It's a d0uble-edge sword, though, because watching them grow up makes me realize what I have missed out with Dallin. When you're pregnant, you don't envision what your baby is going to look like when it is born. Well, you do. But you also have dreams of the 5th birthday party. And you wonder if he'll be into playing the piano or playing soccer. You dream about him coming home from school and talking with you at the kitchen table, graduating from high school, getting married. You wonder if his hair will be red or brown, curly or straight. So much to lose when you lose a baby.

Finally, I hope that if you have a friend or family member who experiences a loss that you will, of course, give them understanding and, most importantly, let them talk about their child. As about their baby by name. This is the most therapeutic of all. The worst thing is to feel like everyone is ignoring the fact that you have a child who lived and died. It's so helpful to know that you're not alone going through a loss like this. Please let them know that there are resources such as Brief Encounters and wonderful books to read. If you ever want any other information, please let me know. One of the ladies in the video on the website said she has a sign on her desk that says, "If you talk about my child, you may make me cry. If you don't, you will break my heart." Please remember that when faced with the loss of a child of someone you love. It will make all the difference to them.

Thanks for reading. I feel better.

Dino Update

So I just wanted to update you on what happened with the Walking With Dinosaurs thing. The struggle continued with Evan reminding us to not count him in and saying, "I'm not going." He even pulled this one out: "I will go when I'm big like Daddy but not when I'm three." Finally, a couple days before, feeling tender towards him, I asked him why he was a little nervous to go see the dinosaurs. Finally the truth came out. "I'm afraid the t-rex will bite my skin off." Oh, poor guy! So I explained that they are robots, run by remote controls, driven by men, blah, blah, blah. Didn't change a thing. Then Michael's brother and sister called to have me get them tickets and everything changed. As soon as he learned his cousins were going he said he was excited to go see the dinosaurs when he's three. So, Friday night he was having a sleepover at his cousin Jaren's house. As we were driving over, talking to him about going to the dinosaur show the next day, he said, "Dad, you can count me in." I love it! So, they had a great time. Michael bought earplugs because he had heard it was pretty loud when the t-rex roars and walks, which it was. Like shake your seats loud! Oh, I would've loved that. Evan just hid his face when the t-rex came out but otherwise loved it. I guess he needs to call Grandpa Bybee with a full report now. Since I have no pictures of the dinosaur stuff, I thought I'd post this one. This is during brushing teeth at the sleepover. Aren't kids funny how they make faces and look at themselves in the mirror? Look at the camera, silly!!

The Great Fire of 2007

Finally the fire story...I'm only two months behind on this one. Above you will see what you might think is a fine piece of artwork. Though I think it is just as attractive as many of the modern art pieces out there and I could find myself selling it for thousands of dollars, we will be keeping this on top of our stove to remind us of what could have been that dreadful day in November of 2007.

I don't know if I'm just an airhead or if our stove could be designed better, but I only turn on the correct burner about 50% of the time. I think the knobs should be switched around because their locations just don't make sense to me. So, on this particular day, I put a pot of water on the burner, turned the burner on and went to check on the rest of my family who were hanging out in the bathroom for some odd reason. I came back a few minutes later to check on my boiling water and was instead met with a smoky kitchen. I quickly realized what I'd done. I'd turned on the wrong burner (AGAIN!) but this time the wrong burner had a plastic cutting board on it. I must've let out a pretty crazy gasp and then ran to the stove to see the cutting board on fire. I threw it off and went running to open the door to let the smoke out. Hasty, Memory. Maybe putting out the fire would've been a better second step. I didn't exactly have my wits about me. Michael ran in and saved the day by grabbing our 20 lb. bag of baking soda from Costco (okay, not literally!) and pouring it on the burner and on the cutting board (hence the white look inside the rings in the picture). Then he got all doors and windows open and ordered the rest of us outside.

Well, this was a particularly cold and rainy day. I grabbed a couple of blankets, the car keys and both kids and ran out to the car to escape the toxic, potentially fatal fumes (nice going, Memory!). Michael made sure the area was secure (heehee) before letting us back in. What's really cute is that Evan talked for quite a long time afterwards about how he had crawled under the smoke because that's what you're supposed to do when there's a fire. Good job, Evan. Except I never saw him crawling. I'm glad he at least knows what to do for next time. And, the most hysterical thing of all is that 100% of the time (yes, I do mean every single time) that I have turned on the stove since that day, Evan has said, "Mom, did you turn on the wrong burner?" Ha! He'd like to not have to go through that again, I guess. Although he did quite enjoy pretending he was driving the car.

So, we have come to the realization that we need more smoke detectors (we only have one) and a fire extinguisher. We heard that if you are needy, the fire department will give them to you. We're gonna check that out. And I'm planning a fire safety FHE lesson for sometime in the near future. Never can be too careful. And, I'm proud to say that since that day I have not turned on the wrong burner even once. I double-check myself every time. Hooray for me!

Poor Maren!

There are nice things to inherit. Long eyelashes. Straight teeth. Nice legs. (At least I can say I've got the eyelashes!) Then there's what poor Maren inherited from me. My cough. I only cough one way and that is like a seal barking. Lisa is laughing by now. She is my childhood friend whose house I slept over at many times while I was sick and seemed to be coughing up a lung. She reminds me of this often. I'm sure her general health is not as good as it could be if she had not been robbed so many hours of sleep from me sleeping over when I had a cough. Anyway, there's nothing dainty about it. Since I've been young, doctors keep thinking I must have asthma. Then they test me and find out that I don't. They say I'm borderline.

Well, when Maren was just a few months old she got a cough. And it sounded like mine. I was bummed for her. It was so bad that they did a chest x-ray to make sure she didn't have pneumonia. Nope. In fact, nothing was wrong with her. Just the ending of her cold. Just like her mother. The cold lasts a week, the cough lasts three weeks.

So, she got a cold a week and a half ago or so. And now she's got the cough. I took her in on Friday sure she must have some serious plague. Nothing wrong with her. Just the cough. Michael took her back in yesterday and they were sent home with an inhaler. Possibly borderline asthma. She's inherited my curse. The barking seal. Two peas in a pod, we are. I thought I might take a picture of the whole thing to post here, but it's really quite an ugly process with lots of screaming and tears. Poor baby. There are lots of fun festivities for this weekend so she needs to get feeling better quickly!

Wake-Up Call!

Okay...this is going to be a VERY humbling post. But, I'm going to lay it out there so I have witnesses. My post today was going to be about addiction. Mine. To chocolate chip cookie dough. You see, Evan was pretending it's his 4th birthday today so he wanted to make cookies. We made one pan, had to leave, and the rest of the dough has been in the fridge. And I can't keep out of it. So I was going to send a plea out for someone to come get this darn dough so I stop eating it. Then I went to the Young Men/Young Women combined activity tonight...broom hockey.

The leaders played against the winning youth team at the very end. I was excited to play. I love playing games that don't have balls flying towards you. And the chalkboard eraser for a puck was pretty harmless. So, I don't know what happened. Maybe it's been too long since I've been physical in that way. Maybe I'm not used to running and lunging and crouching in my tennis shoes. But I'm running and all of a sudden I take a nose dive to the floor. The kind where your knees hit first then the whole front of your body and your feet kick up behind your head. Ouch! The body and the ego were definitely hurting. But, I was proud of myself when I hopped back up and kept in the game. About a minute and a half later, I'm running around and PLOP, there I go again. Only harder this time. I'm bewildered. What's my problem?!?! Now I'm really in pain so I bail out of the game. Well, Evan has been hinting for the past couple of days about the baby in my tummy. In some ways I hope he has had a vision about this and is right so I have something to blame my unusually embarrassing klutziness on. Or maybe it's the nursing boobs. Too much forward weight. I don't know. In any case, I now have two bruised hands, two really hurting knees, whiplash and back pain. (This is not the greatest combination for my job where I have hours of typing to do tonight and I have to lift my leg up and down constantly.

So, I decided something. This was my time to lose some weight wake up call. If I'm not pregnant (oh, please, not yet!) then the only truly viable reason for my face plants is being overweight. Actually, you'd think that my bouffant bum would counteract the weight of the pregnant-looking belly, but clearly it didn't. So, what I'm getting to is that I didn't eat any of the treats at the end of the activity. I have absolutely no desire to get into the cookie dough anymore and I'm ready to get working on this. The only problem I can see here in losing weight is that the last two times I tried that, I got pregnant. And I'm not ready for that yet. So, if you don't see a shrinking Memory, be a friend. Make sure I haven't been sneaking cookie dough! I have to make sure I can fit into my slinky Latin ballroom dance costume, after all. No, wait. That was just a dream.

Walking With Dinosaurs Anxiety

The one thing Michael wanted for Christmas was ticket for him and Evan to go see Walking With Dinosaurs - The Live Experience at the coliseum. You see, Michael's dad is a paleontologist and was on the BBC/Discovery Channel Walking With Dinosaurs show on Allosaurus, which is his specialty dinosaur. He was also a consultant on the Allosaurus in this live show that's coming. Michael's vacations growing up were to look for dinosaur bones. Ha! So, anyway, it runs in the family and Michael has been excited to take Evan because I miraculously was able to get them tickets. Evan has a bit of anxiety about this because although he loves dinosaurs and is especially fond of pretending he's a T-Rex, he is not so sure about them being "live" dinosaurs. I think he's worried that the T-Rex is going to get him or something. So, we are driving home from picking Michael up from the MAX station today and Michael is telling Evan that they are going to ride MAX to see the dinosaur show on Saturday. To which Evan replies, "you better not count me in, Dad." Well, he had said this "don't count me in" comment a couple of days ago which I totally had to bust up over because where on earth did he get that from?!?! But then today he said it with an edge in his voice of anger like don't you dare mess with me, Dad. I'm scared and I'm not okay with this. It was too funny. So, we've got some work to do this week to get him prepared and HOPEFULLY excited about going on Saturday. Hey, I'm sacrificing going so he can go. He'd better have fun!

Michael Saved My Life!

I might be being a little dramatic here, but he may as well have. Yesterday was a horrid day. Really bad. It all started with a call from Danica tell me that she and my mom were going to Ikea and asking if I could come. Now, we've been trying to get an Ikea girl's day for a couple of months now and it always falls through. I think it's because I always say it's not a good time for my kids or I have too much work to do. Well, yesterday I had TONS to do but I still wanted to go. We met my mom and Danica at Danica's house at the set aside time, but that was to pick Evan up. I still hadn't decided whether I was going to go or not. I think I went back and forth about four times. I wanted to go sooooo bad but I had so many logistical things to take care of at home...laundry, bank issues, Quicken, insurance stuff, application to fill out, etc. etc. Plus I had 4 1/2 hours of work to finish. In the end, I decided I'd better not go and they drove off. They told me to call them in the next few minutes and they would turn around and come get me. The love! Well, I got all the way home VERY depressed about the whole situation and proceeded to sit down and bawl my eyes out. Then I called my mom to say sorry for bringing tension to a situation that was supposed to be fun by my indecisiveness. Well, then I was crying even more. I figured out that it's because I always have to choose between really important things and work. Like all those things I needed to get done yesterday, I had to choose between them and work. And work always has to win. And not only important things, but fun things as well. I had to choose doing work over an Ikea trip. So, I was quite the mess for a long time yesterday. Just burned out. Then my night in shining armor appears...

I was walking around very forlornly (is that really a word?!?!) and all of a sudden I hear one of my favorite 80s songs, Buffalo Stance. Michael had found it on YouTube. Hmm...that could get a little smile out of me, but it wasn't enough. Then he pulled out some Milli Vanilli tunes and Erasure (one of my favorites) and all sorts of other great 80s stuff that I love. You can find anything on YouTube! By about the sixth song, I was pretty much feeling like myself again (although really, really exhausted after all the blubbering!). Then he starts to play something and stands up as if to dance with me. What starts playing? "Somebody" by Depeche Mode. Ha! Flashback to junior high dances! That an "Stairway To Heaven", right? At first I thought he was a cheeseball, but then as we danced and he sang softly in my ear I realized how much he loves me. It was right before all this started that he should've thrown me away for being such a grump and having a pity party. Instead, he helped me through it and loved me anyway. After that, we couldn't get ourselves off of YouTube, listening to everything from MC Hammer to DJ Jazee Jeff & The Fresh Prince to I don't even know what else. It was a lot of fun. I hope it's a very long time before I forget this day and how much I am loved.

Desparate Housewives

In case you haven't already seen this. Too funny!

Kid News

Just wanted to give a little update on all that is new with our sweet kids. First, Evan:

Evan is a Sunbeam now! I can't even believe I have a child in Primary. They have been in there for opening exercises the past few weeks and I can't keep myself from opening the door and peeking in for a while. I'm sure the Primary presidency wonders what on earth I'm doing. I just love seeing my little Evan grow up.

Evan really likes to help in the kitchen. Most of the times we are making something, he wants to help measure or pour or stir. The other day he said he wants to be a "cooker guy" like our friend Adam. Cute. He has helped me make his PBJ sandwiches in the past, but a couple of days ago he wanted to do it completely by himself and I let him. He decided it was only going to be peanut butter and this is what it looked like. Yum...if you love a peanut butter overload.

(he was in serious need of a haircut here!)

Evan got some Kandoo products in his Christmas stocking this year. Since then he kandoo everything. :-) He loves to wash his own body and his own hair (which until the Kandoo he was pretty terrified about). And then there's the flushable wipes. Well, since the Kandoo wipes arrived, HE wants to do the wiping. He's not bad. Of course, I get the last swipe and we wash those hands extra especially well. It just amazes me all the things he does for himself now. Pouring his own milk, getting himself dressed (even shoes & socks now!), walking himself to Primary, brushing his teeth.

(random picture. He's a computer whiz. This was on our trip home from Spokane.)

Evan still adores Maren and is 98% of the time very, very good with her. He is especially proud to tell people about her first tooth and how well she can stand up. I feel so blessed to have him as her older brother. He really cherishes having her in our family and I know he will take care of her in the future. Watch out, boys!

And now Maren...

Maren has not one, but two teeth which look oh-so-cute on her. And she sure uses them to tear into her food. I really don't have to cut things into little pieces because she will take the thing and tear it up with her teeth. Last night she ate her dinner and then stole Evan's. I think she really wants out of her infant car seat so she's pushing to get to that 20 lb. mark by her birthday this month.

Maren is just about to be a full-time walker. She has successfully taken about nine steps. She's so independent, too. It's all been her idea. In fact, she will walk better when we're NOT trying to motivate her to walk. When we want her to do the walk between mom and dad thing, she doesn't do as well. She's really a go-getter and self-motivator in so many areas. It cracks me up. She is also ready to feed her self with the spoon. What's happening to my baby?

Maren is starting to do really well with sign language. I think it's just because she's such a copycat. She signs more, all done, and food. I can't think of the other ones right now. But if she's copying you, she'll mimic many words, make kisses (the real, smacky kind!), roar, sound like a train. Whatever. She also "sings" The Farmer in the Dell. She loves to dance. In fact, the other day she sitting in her chair at the table and I turned on a song that I knew would really get her moving. I thought she was literally going to rock that chair until it tipped over. She has great rhythm, just like Evan. We all have a great time dancing together!

I am hoping she will be a great helper. She loves to play in the dishwasher so I'm hoping that comes in handy one of these years. Evan was never interested in it as a baby and he still isn't.

Lastly, I think our nursing is going to be coming to an end shortly. It's torture for me. She pulls my hair, pinches my skin, scratches skin off of my nose. Her skin pinching could seriously be torture to get bad guys to talk. It is soooo painful. So, I don't know how much longer I'll last. But she will be a year old in a couple of weeks so I feel good about what we've done. She's a sweet girl.

Thanks for reading my rave reviews of my kids. Isn't it wonderful how much parents love their kids? I'm sure I will enjoy reading this post for years to come.

Spokane

I'm just going to have to face the fact that my posts for a while are going to be all discombobulated, jumping around from Thanksgiving to today. Oh well. That's what I get for being a working mother of three, I guess. NO TIME! Anyway, I wanted to make a quick (I hope, as I'm really wishing I were in bed right now!) post about our trip to Spokane. As I have been working seven days a week since shortly after Maren was born with hardly a day off, we decided to take a little trip up to Washington to visit my old roommate, Anne, and her husband, Matt after Christmas. Originally we were going to leave the morning after Christmas. Then we realized that we could really maximize our vacation time by leaving Christmas evening, after a get-together at my mom's, around 7 p.m. The clincher here was that the kids would be asleep, of course! The whole drive with no kids to worry about. It was a brilliant plan. Well, it started off all well and good. Evan slept the first two hours. Then, around 9 p.m. he woke up and was awake the entire rest of the drive, until 1:30 a.m.!!! WHAT?!?! Who authorized that? By the time we got settled at Anne & Matt's house and got into bed, it was 3 a.m. That's when Evan got to sleep. Um, not good. And he slept all the way until 9 a.m. the next morning. Six hours of sleep...bad for me, really bad for Evan. But, we were still able to fit some fun in between cranky episodes. Both kids loved all of their pets (a dog, two cats, a rat, about 24 birds, fish, and about 100 stuffed animals that "talk").

We also enjoyed being in the snow. Evan took a ride on the shovel and tried to help clear the sidewalk. Maren just looked cute in her hat! Evan thinks that Christmas = snow. So it was great to be there with all the snow for him. He really loves it. Here are a lot of pictures, but I just couldn't choose which ones to leave out. Oh, thanks to Anne for getting all of these. I was lame and my camera stayed in the warm house.

We also enjoyed gourmet Anne & Matt cooking...especially chocolate lava cakes...some trips to downtown Spokane, and seeing how much more house we could have if we lived next door to them (just kidding...that was the painful part. If it weren't for my family being here, and some really amazing friends, I'd be packing up right now and moving into that big four-bedroom house!). It was really nice to have a whole two days off of work and not have to worry about anything at home. Life is really stressful here right now and I needed the mental break. Unfortunately, we came home to a hurricane-devastated house (you know, the Christmas disaster) so that wasn't too fun. Hopefully it won't be another year before we have another family break from the rigors of everyday life. Thanks, Anne & Matt, for your hospitality!

And, just in case I hadn't put enough pictures on here, here's one last cutie...

Posh Vacation

Not mine. Michael's. That's right. He's living the high life right now while I struggle to get 5 hours of sleep here, in this disaster of a post-Christmas house, with two kids!! Okay, I best tell the truth before I get struck by lightning. So, Michael's sister, Jody, had knee surgery this past week. She has needed someone to stay overnight with her the past four nights. Michael's brother took the first two nights and Michael stayed there last night and is there tonight. Last night he went to bed at 12:30 (morning, really, I guess). I went to bed at 2 a.m. He was up with Jody for probably half an hour around 4:00 to get her to the bathroom and change her knee ice packs. I was up a couple times with crying kids who wanted to be fed and slept with. Jody finally woke Michael up at 10:00 a.m. Ugh. What??? I had to get up at 8:30 (I know, I know. Very late for some. I was really lucky that Evan slept this late. But realize that that was still only 6 1/2 hours minus the hour I was up in the middle of the night!). Anyway, I told him that if Jody needs someone on Monday night, I'm her girl. I want the cushy vacation in a small apartment five minutes away from home where no kids wake you up, where you can read a book or go to bed early if you want. There's no work, no mess, no bills to pay. Yep, tomorrow is my turn. Then I realize it's also New Year's Eve. Ugh again. That may throw everything off. For now I will just dream about my night away.

On the same topic, between yesterday and today, I've spent a couple of hours helping Jody get her clothes changed, get to and from the bathroom, change her ice packs and do her exercises. It has made me feel so good. It's nice to be helpful and useful and for something other than being a mom where that's pretty much required. It makes me wish I had more time to be of service to others. I'm a service maniac at heart, I think, but with my current work situation, it's hard to find the time to help. This has buoyed up my spirits and inspired me to find even little situations where I can make someone's life a little easier. :-)

Lame Blogger!

Okay, I have totally been the kind of blogger that drives me crazy. How long has it been since a post? Three weeks or something? Despicable. Things have been insanity around here and I just haven't had the mental energy, really, to get on here and put something exciting. But, believe me, I have some stories to share! Michael has two weeks off school for Christmas. I'm hoping during that time we can get some major home projects done, we can get this pigsty cleaned up, and I can get caught up on the blog.

As a short little something, I will share the exhausting happenings of last week very quickly since I'm trying to turn over a new leaf with my bedtime. I should be walking in to brush my teeth right now (amazingly about an hour and a half earlier than normal!) but I've got to get this on here to motivate me to get the other stuff on next week. Anyway, in short: Evan has been WAY short on sleep. Like finally getting to bed between 9:30 and 11:30 p.m. and still waking up before 8:00 a.m. NOT OKAY! This has made him extremely irritable and he has had a few really great tantrums this week. This is all so new to me. I feel like I'm not broken in. I don't like it. Well, after two tantrums because I wasn't going to let him watch a show the instant he wanted one (I finally locked myself in my room...for mine and Maren's safety - ha!), I told him no shows or movies until Christmas! Now, this was Tuesday, I think. So far we've stuck to it. Yea for me sticking to my guns for once.

So, add to his extreme fatigue that he also woke up Monday morning with hives covering his whole body. He also had a sore on his tongue. Oh, yes. That night Maren had woken up seven times (WHAT?!?!) and I couldn't get her to calm down. The last time she was hitting the side of her face so I figured she must have an ear infection. I gave her Tylenol and didn't hear from her the rest of the night. So, at 8:01 a.m., after probably 3 hours of sleep (kill me quickly!), I called the doctor's office and, of course, had to take them both in right at clogging time. Bummer. Not a thing wrong with Maren. Her ears were beautifully gray. And we couldn't pin down what must've caused Evan's hives and there was nothing really to do about it but keep giving him Benadryl. So now this sleepy boy is also highly agitated because he's itching everywhere. Then there's the tongue sore (I'm just realizing that this is not seeming like the short version! I think because I type so fast I have a tendency to be long-winded in my typed out stories. Sorry!). It hurts him so bad that he hardly eats or drinks for two full days. Not even water. He'd try to drink water and it would hurt. Ugh. Then he got a pretty good nosebleed from all the Benadryl. And then, and then, and then...

If that weren't enough, I got some kind of sore on my tongue, too!! Seriously, what is going on here? Mine is still hanging around, though, and making it difficult to eat, brush my teeth, or talk without pain (or without sounding like a total dork). In fact, there are people I was supposed to call this week but I just didn't because I knew it would be too much workout for my tongue. (Sorry, Lisa!) So, Michael made me show the dentist in our ward today at church. He said it is unusual and if it sticks around for another week I should go see an oral surgeon because they might want to biopsy it. So, here's how weird I am. Actually, I hope it's not weird. I hope people read this and nod their head in understanding and sympathy. If you're in that boat, please let me know. I get home from church and I'm nursing Maren and my mind begins to wander. Here's what happens in my little daydream: I find out I have mouth cancer (is there such a thing?). They have to remove my tongue. I feel so ugly and strange and I can't talk. Michael can't handle having a wife without a tongue because I look so strange so he leaves me. (When I told Danica, she was kind enough to stick up for Michael and say, "as if Michael were that shallow.") Well, I can't talk to the kids without a tongue so we all have to go take sign language classes to communicate. Then I started thinking what if I were to die?!?! My kids are too young to retain any memories of me!! All this over a little sore on my tongue. Is this some strange motherly paranoia or what?

So, to sum it up, all the lack of sleep this week, itchy bodies, owie tongues, grumpy kids, doctor's appointments, etc., etc. has made me very backed up on my work. In fact, Monday night I didn't even START typing until 11:30 p.m. That's terrible! So, when I'm not asleep at the computer, I'm actually typing on it, but not on the blog. I'm trying to get caught up!! Still not there yet. So, this is one big, long run-on whine post here. Sorry about that. The good thing is that that week is over and everything is cleared up beside my tongue issue. Hopefully Evan will get better sleep this week and we won't have so much screaming this week. It's a new week. Time for a new attitude. And time to update this blog with something fun. More to come this week on our fire, Thanksgiving (yes!), and a first for Maren. Sorry to put you to sleep. Off I go to bed now.

It's the Little Things

As a parent, isn't it just those little victories that make us so proud, happy and get us doing old high school cheers? Evan buttoned a button for the first time today. Ha! That's it. But I thought it was a BIG deal. It was his first real time to try and he was bound and determined to do it, even when failure seemed certain. He did not want me giving him a bit of help at all. After much frustration, he got the job done. Probably not a big deal to anyone but me, but maybe it's just because it's one more step in the process of my little boy growing up. *sigh*