Happy 12th Birthday, Shelby!

12 years ago today, my rainbow baby was born.

And since then has brought so much love

(1st Birthday)

and joy

and happiness

 (5th Birthday)

and silliness

and laughter

 (7th Birthday)

and excitement

and pride

and bubbly giddiness

 (8th Birthday)

 (9th Birthday)

and wit

 (10th Birthday)

and a perfect rightness!

 (12th Birthday)

Happy 12th Birthday, Shelby Jacquelyn Dirks!!!

Door? Again?

Remember in April 2017 we were accused of painting our front door without permission by Steve, an HOA member that lives across the street?  You can read about it here.  Well, last week, while walking around our neighborhood, I was approached by another HOA member, also named Steve, about the front door.  Talk about irony!

Steve: "Can I ask you a question?"

Me: "Absolutely."

"I'm not accusing you."

{Ope, there goes the defensive wall}

"You said in your request to the board that you were going to paint your front door."

{Mind screaming 'AGAIN WITH THE FRONT DOOR?!?!'}

"We did paint our front door."

"No, you didn't."
{Mind reeling.  First they accuse us of painting the door when we didn't, going so far as to literally call us liars, and now we're being told we didn't paint when we did!}

"Steve, yes we did!"

"Well, the email you sent said that you were going to paint it the trim color.  I am just trying to gather all paint chip and color code information for all of the houses that were painted this season, so that we can direct future potential home owners that wish to paint to those homes."

"I did not say that we were going to paint our door the trim color.  I said that we were going to add trim to the door, and that that would be painted the trim color, since it's trim.  The door was to remain black, to match the house numbers and new lighting.  I also provided the paint color code information in that email, as well as all paint chips in the mail in request.  I'm certain you'll find those exact words in the email if you go back and read it again.  "

I did.  I said almost those exact words, verbatim.  

This was the door the day they accused us of painting, when all I did was add the numbers and the kick plate.

Painted a shiny exterior black with added trim painted the trim color.

This was the man that came to judge the house color after it was already dark.  "Yeah, I couldn't tell what color your house was going to be that first night.  I still can't quite tell what color it is."  I rankled, and didn't back down.  "Well, Steve, that's because you came to look at it after it was already dark outside.  Of course you wouldn't be able to tell what color it was going to be!"  He said many more things, most of which had me thinking, "Your point?"  Especially when he told me that I should go to some of the new build neighborhoods and see for myself that none of those homes are beige.  I looked him in the eye and said, "I agree!  Those are modern, updated homes.  The color choices that the board is willing to accept are what's keeping us solely in 2004!  If you want to keep this neighborhood updated, you'll have to give up the pinks and beiges, and adopt the colors of the time."

These people need to get a life, and leave us the heck alone!!  Both doors were an upgrade from what it was before!!!  What is their freaking problem?!

Best Day

Some would look at my day and think it was wasted, others would think I was nuts to find enjoyment in such a way, but I can in all seriousness say I haven't had such a good day in a long time-- and I didn't even participate in the activity with my family.  I went to watch.

We were a little worried that we'd have to pay another Lessons Fee to have Tyson switch to Skis, but the employees didn't question Randy (he used his "tone") and switched him from snowboard to skis, no problem.  We all knew right away that Tyson was going to have a much better day.

I find it funny now, here at the end of the day, to post these pictures.  I only got one good one in the morning, where the child didn't look fake (or bored while they waited for lessons to begin).

But by the end of the day, Shelby's radiant, excited smile had turned to glum, with all other faces looking this happy.

They'd just come down from the top of the mountain (yes, this was only their second day, Tyson's first) and were feeling on top of the world.  Well, except for Shelby, she just looked like she wanted to be cuddled in bed and hibernate for the rest of winter.

My day was spent taking stuff to and from the car multiple times, and walking in place (got to get my steps) as I looked for my family as they came down the mountain.  I felt such joy at even a glimpse of any one of them.  I loved waving at them, encouraging them, cheering them on, hearing their excitement, seeing their joy.  I loved being with them, even though I wasn't with them.

For the record: I was deliberately trying to get Floors yesterday for my exercise.  I walked up the steep mountain road by our home, trying to get as many Floors as I could.  43.  On the car ride home, I gasped when I saw that I'd gotten 85 Floors!  Granted, it was in a much longer time frame, not all at once as I'd done yesterday, but I didn't even "try," yet I killed it!  Win-Win!

Moment of truth: I can't say I will never get on skis, even though I swore I'd never, ever do it again.  With the kids going and loving it this much, I can see us adopting this sport.  But... it's going to take even more time to convince me to don those slippery sticks of death.  Watching wipe outs, falls, speeding skiers and snowboarders coming from all directions, collisions, and four different Medic runs (one of which needed an ambulance), has me convinced that skiing really isn't going to be my thing.  That being said, if we made Brennon ride on the boat for 10 minutes every time, many times bawling and white knuckling it, because "this is what we're going to do as a family now," I may have to suck it up and deal with it.  Only time will tell...

Sudoku

Tyson came home from school sick with a stomach ache yesterday.  I'd purchased a sudoku book to show the kids after school, so when he saw it on the counter, he asked if I'd show him how right then.

We worked together on the first one, with me giving him tips and pointers for a few different methods to solve the puzzle, but he picked it up so quickly that he basically took it over about halfway through.

His first solo puzzle took him 12 minutes!  I didn't even watch him do it, for fear of accidentally "helping" him.  He's since done nine on his own (six last night, three first thing this morning, with one being worked on right now), one of which he used some pretty advanced techniques I hadn't taught him yet (I had only taught him hours before, I didn't think he would quite yet understand), because his mind started looking for other ways to find solutions for a more difficult Medium puzzle.

"Mom, can I do this while we read scriptures?"
"Ummmmm, no."
"But I'm so close to finishing this one!"

He'd done sudoku while we were watching funny videos on YouTube as a family.

I love hearing and seeing his enthusiasm.  I love that he picked it up so quickly.  It's fun teaching kids stuff like this, especially when they're that perceptive and keen to learn.

8:30AM UPDATE:
"Mom, could I take this to school?"
"No.  When would you even have time to do it?"
"Recess."

He took a page with him to school.  He finds it more fun than recess.

Tricks

I had such a good time skating on Monday that we went yesterday afternoon as a family.  Randy regaled us on the drive over of all of his glory days on four wheels, including the time he and his friends did a Tour de Roy.

While there, Randy also taught Brennon and Tyson how to skate backwards.  It's fun watching your husband do a bunch of tricks as if he's done them every day of his life (he hasn't put on skates in about as long as I), but even more fun to watch your kids stare in awe and amazement at their dad, and exclaim, "Wow!  Can you teach me?!"

Caden loved rollerblading.  He even bought himself a pair of nice, expensive blades-- and Caden never spent his money without a ton of thought.  In fact, he often commented that he wished it could be easier to spend, because he wanted stuff but it was hard to take the money out of savings.  It's special to watch the boys learn new tricks with their dad, using Caden's blades.  It makes me miss Caden every time they use them, but it's wonderful to see that Caden's possessions still bless the lives of his little brothers.

We may make Wednesday afternoons from 3:30-5:30 our thing.

1/4

It seems that Randy and I talk about Caden many times when we're getting ready for bed.  Last night he commented that it's so easy to remember the good times, which makes him miss him so much more, that he needs to remind himself of the suffering.  I told him that I am the exact opposite-- I never forget how much he suffered, always grateful that he does not suffer anymore.  I'm not sure why it only hit me last night, but for nearly 1/4 of his life, Caden had cancer hanging over him.  It made me sad all over again.  Cancer sucks.

Skate

I left directly after church yesterday with Shelby, Brennon, and Tyson to go to Ashlee's house for Austen's birthday.  Circumstances made it so I didn't go on Friday after school, making our trip shorter than was originally planned, but I'm grateful we got to go at all.  I was fortunate to be present at Austen's birth, so it was pretty special to be able to make this trip to be there for her 8th birthday and party.

For the first time in more than 25 years, I laced up these bad boys and went to town.

Well, not really, because I've never been good at skating, but it was a seriously fun party.  At least I wasn't clinging to the wall like I did the last time I wore this kind of skate.

I got to spend time with this cutie.  She knows how to skate and does a great job for her age, but she got tired (and distracted by the arcade games) often, so we played when she wasn't out on the floor with her dad.

I would have spent more time with this cutie, but she was whisked away in an umbrella stroller by Russ.  Now, that man can skate!  Everly was the luckiest of us all, going the fastest around the rink without having to exert any energy at all!

It was a fun weekend spent with family.  Well, family without Randy and Keilie, and Caden.  But you know what I mean. 

Happy Birthday, Austen Jade. 

Closet

A few years ago I talked about a time when I decided to gather all of our school supplies from around the house into the front room, and "shop" from the supplies for our new school year lists.  With each child gathering from their room, and myself gathering from the kitchen area, dumping it into one pile in the only living space we had at the time, I was shocked (and embarrassed) by how much we had.  I immediately started to divide them up into categories, and decided then and there that I would never buy brand new school supplies until I'd gone through our own supplies first.  I rarely buy new stuff anymore, always keeping it all nicely organized in school boxes for daily use and school supply lists.

Then comes this revolutionary book about that very organization that I'd experienced before it was cool-- organizing by category, not room.  The KonMarie Method.  She tells you to do exactly what I'd done-- gather it all into one space.  It will shock you to see all that you've accumulated, most likely making you feel embarrassed you'd let it get that bad, and help you know exactly what you have to make better choices of what you want to keep.  While I don't do every step she suggests (I have never tapped the spines of my books to wake them before sorting them, nor have I thanked my clothes as I was chucking them into a garbage bag meant for Salvation Army), I do regularly organize my categories.

With the New Year, when we all have resolutions fresh on our minds, Netflix released a new series where Marie goes from home to home, helping them organize their categories.  She tells them what to do, helps them start on each project (clothing is always first, with sentimental last), and guides them as they organize their home.  Inevitably, each person (kids included) talks about how much happier they are now that they've gotten rid of so much, and now that it's so much cleaner.  It was very inspiring to watch!  It was truly a joy to get rid of stuff they never thought they could get rid of.  I've watched the entire season, always turning off the tv to start another category.  Watching someone else clean always propels me to clean myself.  Especially when it's an episode of Hoarders.

Things have been a bit hard for me emotionally recently.  I can honestly pin point it back to that moment where my mind thought, "It's still real."  Things that used to be nothing to me now seem big.  I'm more anxious.  I take longer to come down from an anxiety high.  I am just kind of struggling in general more than I have been in a long time.  I'm watching it closely, taking notes about my day, and will go see a doctor if it gets much worse.

Last week started quite hard with the car troubles, getting worse as the days went on.  I knew I needed a project that would make me feel light when I was done, so I decided to tackle my closet.

(My stuff) 

It wasn't too bad, but I knew it could be better.  Everything is folded into category piles, but it just didn't stay/look as organized as I would like.

(Randy's stuff)

Not wanting to break the bank, I got these Dish Buckets (thanks, Jamie, for the recommendation!) for $2.00/each and got started on The KonMarie Folding Method.

One thing I know about anxiety disorders is that they do a project slowly so they can do it perfectly.  I also know that projects like this get worse before they get better, so I prepared myself for that moment where you think, "What the heck was I thinking?"  You'd think something like this would cause me more anxiety, since I was already struggling, but it was amazing to experience the transformation first hand, and feel how it truly lifted my spirits during the work.

It's not designer storage, but I wasn't going for that.  I love the way it feels, I love the way it looks, I love the way it works.  There is happiness in purging for me.  There is happiness in organizing and cleaning.  There is happiness in the act of cleaning as I watch something go from messy to clean as I think, "I did that!"  Some would question whether cleaning could actually be relaxing, but for me, it can be. 

Still love that I organized by category before it was cool!  Marie, tell me something that I don't know...

Perspective

Tyson is a hot blooded child, it's as simple as that.  Every night he sleeps with a fan pointing at him, many nights without a shirt.  Even in winter.  Being one that can wear two pairs of sock with shoes all day and still have ice cold feet when I take them off, I don't understand that boy!

As the temperatures began to drop September, I found myself nagging him more and more to take a sweater to school.  "Fine, but it's going to stay in my backpack all day."  As it became even colder, I found myself nagging him to grab his coat.  More and more he began to fight me.  "Mom!  I just don't need it!  It's too big, it takes up so much space in my backpack.  I don't want to take it."  As I considered the friction it was causing us each morning, I told him that he was old enough to make his own choices, and that he wasn't allowed to complain about how horrible he felt if when he got sick.

This morning as we were leaving for school, seeing the rain coming down (can I just say how amazing it is that January 17th has rain instead of snow?  We still haven't had a big snow storm this season.  We've had a few dustings, but nothing of significance.  I LOVE IT!!!), I commented to Tyson, "You know, you're one of those kids that makes their mothers look bad.  Your teacher has sent many 'reminders' to 'send your child to school with proper winter gear' and you choose to go to school today with a simple sweatshirt as your coat.  People are going to think I'm a bad mom."

Looking me straight in the eye, my Ty said, "Mom, they'll see you as a mom that gives her kids choice."  As he was jumping out of the car, he looked me in the eye again and said, "Thank you for letting me wear my sweater.  Love you!" and flashed me the I Love You sign as he ran towards the school. 

That boy can sure make me feel like I'm doing something right.  Just like the time he answered a Mother's Day questionnaire in Kindergarten,

"What Does Your Mom Cook Best?"         Hot Pockets

Arrow of Light

Brennon earned his Arrow of Light tonight, the highest award you can earn in Cub Scouts.  He's worked really hard with his troop to earn this, and I am very proud of his accomplishment.  He was super excited all week for tonight.  I was excited, but also a bit anxious as well.

A couple of weeks ago, Brother Larsen let me know that they had me down to help with refreshments.  I told him that they could count on me 110% this time, unlike the last time I was in charge.  Jamie joked that I for sure would have them there on time this time.  When considering what to take with the mother of the other boy receiving the award, we decided to do arrow fruit kabobs, and cupcakes.  This is where I made extra work for myself.  It would have been enough to simply make cupcakes.  It would have been even more decorated if I'd done Blue and Gold cupcake liners and alternated them into a pattern on the table.  But when I saw this design, I knew I was going to try to duplicate it.

70 cupcakes of differing flavors and icing techniques, one of which I'd never tried before.

I was thrilled with how they turned out.  I'm glad my first attempt wasn't a disaster, since I had to take them tonight.  I would love to know how the original designer (source unknown from Pinterest) made her chocolate frosting so smooth and silky on top.

We transported the cupcakes in two massive boxes, and then I arranged them when we got there.  I had also cut out the fondant beforehand and transported it on parchment paper, cutting it to size and laying it out minutes before we were to begin.  I'm happy with how my entire-day project turned out.

The fruit arrows went first, with some kids taking more than one before all of the kids got some.  Tears were shed.  Our refreshments were a success!

Brennon Dirks & Sean Porter

So proud of my Brennon!!

After the award ceremony, they opened up the gym dividers to reveal about 10 tables set up for different countries from around the world.  Here are the few I remember:

Brother & Sister Anderson: Sweden

Sister Crosier: Thailand

Sister Nelson: Philippines

Brother & Sister Larsen Sr.: Japan

Brother Larsen: Spain

Brother Kraus: Mexico

Brother Schlesser: Germany

Brother & Sister Taylor: Slavonia

Brother & Sister Bowen: Turkey

Brother Brimacombe: France

Sister Randall: Africa
Brother Edvalson: Argentina

We got to "go out into the world" and try food from these places, see pictures, postcards, and artifacts, and even try some of the cultural festivities.  The kids had Passports (a compact world map with lines connecting names to their countries) where they got a sticker for stopping at the tables and learning about, and eating, some of the food.  Turkish Delight, Dumplings, Swedish Meatballs, Mexican bread, Flan, Crepes, Fromage (cheese) and Cow Stomach are a few I can remember.  We'd just gone out to eat at Chipotle for a Fundraiser for Shelby's choir and I was full to bursting, so I didn't actually eat any of the food.  I wish I would have known we were doing this Cultural Fair-- I would have loved to sample the world!  It was a fantastically fun night!  I cannot tell you how amazing our associations are in the world ward.  We are the luckiest people in the world.

Shaken Up

I always wake at 6:30am to take Keilie to zero hour.  While on the road this morning, on the on-ramp to the freeway, our Charger dinged-- Battery.  I told myself to remember to tell Randy when I got home.  Soon after getting onto the freeway, the radio shut off.  The control panel for radio, thermostat, heated seats, settings, and phone wouldn't work.  I started to get a little concerned, but not enough to call Randy.  Yet.

Like most mornings, I stopped at the cemetery after dropping her off for a few minutes before heading home.  When putting my car back into Drive, the car dinged a few yellow service lights (I don't know what they mean, I'll have to ask Randy about them later), and the air came on full blast for maybe three seconds and then turned off.  It was then that I realized that the heater hadn't worked at all on the drive.  As I was pulling out of the cemetery, I had a strong impression to call Randy and tell him to meet me at the shop.  I knew then that it was serious.  I just didn't realize how serious.

A few times on the freeway, the yellow service lights would ding on and off, gaining frequency the longer I drove.  This was when I became pretty nervous that I may not make it to the shop.  As I was on the off-ramp, literally able to see the shop, I started to kind of breath a sigh of relief that I wouldn't break down on the freeway, but my car was just getting started.  With each tap on the brakes, the yellow lights would ding and flash, gaining frequency until it was and on-off-on- couple seconds- off- on.  It felt like it was becoming sort of a ticking time bomb.  I started to feel the panic of being trapped.  I was trapped in the situation!  But the sound of the incessant beeping was nothing compared to the fear ignited when a different ding and a different red light came up on my now-colorful dashboard.  BRAKE!

With the constant red Battery, the intermittent yellow lights, now including the constant yellow check engine light, I didn't think I could be any more nervous... until the brake engaged and started to quickly slow me down.  Then release.  Then engage.  Dings were sounding more and more, lights flashing, my car was choosing when to go or stop, and all I could do was pray like mad to make it to the shop.

In the parking lot, tires squealing as I raced into the first available parking stall, I kid you not, the car came out of Drive, revving the engine as if I'd put it in Neutral.  I slammed on the brake (my choice this time), put it into Park, quickly turned off the car, and burst into tears as I rocked back and forth.  I was so freaked out, my emotionally unstable psyche so certain that the car was seconds away from exploding, and then immediately so relieved, that I pretty much melted into my seat in a puddle of sweat and wracking sobs.  "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you for helping me make it."  The car literally died as I was pulling it into the stall!!!  I knew without a doubt that I'd been prompted and protected.

As I was coming down from the adrenaline high, shivering in my heater-less car, I got a text from Keilie (I'm not even joking, I jumped in fear at the ding):

"Mom, the flashing lights and police cars we saw on the way to school is a homicide.  A drive-by shooting.  They're looking for the killer."

{Already stressed mind starts going crazy realizing how close that is to both the Middle and High schools, with an armed killer at large}

"Oh my gosh.  How scary.  I love you!"

"I love you too.  I hope I don't die {insert laughing until you cry emoji}!"

"Not funny."

Is it bedtime yet?  It's times like this that make me realize how broken I still am, even though I can see how far I've come.  Don't get me wrong, it was a stressful time, but I can't stop crying even two and a half hours later.  I still feel scared remembering the trapped feelings I felt.  I cannot handle stress.  I don't want to do anything today.  I can't function.  I can't Mom today.  I just want to sleep.  It's situations like this one that make me nervous that depression is coming for me.  That maybe the switch has been flipped, and I'm going to start losing my mind.  I just want to sleep.

UPDATE:
Alternator  $550.  All is fixed, and well.

Atha-- what now?

I can't remember what we were talking about tonight, but all of the sudden Tyson pipes up, "Oh, that reminds me of the Athabaskan's!" 

{Cue crickets and stunned stares}  "I'm sorry, the what?"

"The Athabaskan's."

{Pan to the right to stop on the Dad looking up "Athabaskan's" on his iPhone} 

And suddenly I was back in 2015, in our Yukon on our way down to Utah, listening to our Kindergartener teach us all about "Oviparous" and "Viviparous" as we all sat in stunned silence that this little boy knows so much, and can teach us so completely, about something we've never even heard about.  Oh, the places that boy will go!

Not Me!

Keilie came home from school yesterday, "Mom, look at this picture I saw on at Seminary today!"

We'd been walking side by side, but when I saw this picture I stopped dead in my tracks, confused.  That is my face, that is how I use my arm when sleeping, I recognize that mat in front of that fridge, but I don't recognize anything else.  As I enlarged the image, my mind started to think back on a time where I may have worn that robe, those socks.  I'd never seen them before in my life, but it was hard to get past the fact that that is my face!

"Keilie, that is not me."
"Wait, what?  It's not?  It looks just like you!"
"I know, but it's not me."

The feelings in me were so unnerving, so confused.  I could find things about it that I could logically see couldn't be me: the clothes, the fact that someone would have taken a picture of me sleeping on the floor (how often does one really sleep on the floor in front of the fridge?), the size of the earrings, and the wood floors.  But the darkened eyes (I call them my raccoon eyes), the position she's in, the fridge that looks like the past four fridges we've owned, the cabinets that look similar to some of ours, the mat that I've owned before, the dark long hair, the ear lobes, and the mouth that looks like a grin I do when embarrassed to be taking a selfie...

All confused my mind and made me feel slightly fearful that my Ambien had me driving to someone's home to sleep on their floors without remembering it.  Then I realize I probably would have woke in a jail cell instead of my home, so it must not have been an Ambien thing.

As I zoom into the face, it's weird to see myself in it SO much like this...

But when I turn it like this...

I can clearly see that it's not me.  The shadows cast a different light on the face depending on how you look at it.  *The white across the  nose and mouth is not a difference in skin tone, but the light from taking a picture of a picture on the wall.  I don't even know the reason for the picture wall in the Seminary building, either.*

I tried to find a picture of me sleeping to do a comparison, but I didn't have any on the floor, or from the same angle.

But there is one thing that I see as a big difference between her sleep face and mine: she slightly smiles, I frown.  I am not one that you could say, "She's looks so peaceful when she sleeps."  Keilie's asking around to find out who this mystery woman is-- I'd like to meet her.  Maybe she'd let me do a side-by-side in front of that fridge so I have a good comparison...

Embarrassed

I walked in to find Mira snuggling with her baby like this...

When I said, "Awe, are you snuggling with your baby," she didn't look up at me, instead she did this...

Almost like she was embarrassed to be caught snuggling.  It was super cute.

UPDATE:
After picking up Tyson from his Destination Imagination meeting, Shelby met me at the door in a panic.  "Mom, look at the picture I took of Mira's ear!"  It looked bad.  I immediately made an appointment with the vet.  Double Ear Infection.  I'd noticed that she'd been scratching her ears, but she'd also had some allergy-type stuff, so I thought she was just kind of itchy.  Poor thing will have to have her ears flushed each night (as in fill the ear canal to overflowing and have her shake it out-- not fun for human or canine), plus 8 drops of antibiotics in each ear for 10 days.  Like most of my human kids, this girl suffers with ear infections.  She really is one of the family!

Two Weeks Late

Our last day of school before the Winter Break was a normal early-out Friday schedule on the 21st, with the first day of no school being Christmas Eve.  We then had two full weeks off of school, with the first day back to school on Monday.  Since Randy started his vacation on the 18th, and because he had to go back to work before the kids went back to school, I put off putting away Christmas until everyone went back to their own schedules so we could spend as much time together as possible doing not-working stuff.

I had every intention of doing it on Monday.  But I must have been coming off a pretty high {insert any number of things here}, so I stayed most of the day in my warm, comfortable bed, reading and napping.  I had every intention of doing it on Tuesday.  But I got to play with my favorite 5-year old boy for an hour, and then I planned to shower and get ready to take a friend out to lunch for her birthday.  Instead, I got back into my warm bed, read the last few chapters of my book from the previous day, donned makeup and a hat, and took my friend to lunch.  I am useless for anything big after noon, being most productive first thing in the morning, so you can bet I got back in bed when I got home from lunch and took a nap.  

I had every intention of putting Christmas away yesterday... and I did!  5 hours later, with the Christmas tree disassembled but not fitting into the box despite my sweaty, best efforts, I was questioning why it felt so right to be lazy with my family over the holiday.  Who cares about Canada and fun train museums when the Christmas tree is still standing?  Snow activities?  Nope, the halls are still decked with balls of holly-- get to work!  Not only was it a full two weeks past when I usually have Christmas put away, which made me feel a weird sort of anxiety guilt, but I have never felt such loathing for my Christmas tree as I did in those 45 minutes of trying to wrestle the prickly branches into a tightly bound, bigger than my arm circumference, pear-shaped mass of too heavy for me to put into the box myself, what were you thinking, rage-inducing madness.  I took the box back into the garage, hefted the three {choice word} sections, and chucked them next to the box.  I don't care that I have to park my car on the driveway, I cannot get that tree in that box!   I now know I have been taking Randy for granted when it comes to how easy it's been in years past to put the Christmas tree away.

Two lessons that I've learned for future Christmases:

1) Christmas Day is for time spent at home, not taking the kids away from their new toys, even if the activity is family-based togetherness.

2) Christmas trees should be purchased each year to prevent thoughts of bonfires in the living room.

Duet

Joy is hearing a repeating duet of your childhood being played by your kids as they sit at the piano of your childhood.

Ready!

I'm not quite sure what it is really, but I've been much more anxious about Keilie starting to drive than I was for Caden.  I had zero reservations about Caden learning.  I think it has more to do with Caden's straight-as-an-arrow approach to everything, more than wanting him to experience all he could.  I don't like to compare kids, but I have to say I do think that's what I've been doing all these months as the realization that Keilie would be behind the wheel became more of a reality, and my terror to let her start-- comparing Keilie's personality/approaches/past experiences and outcomes against Caden's.  Circumstances (cancer and broken arm) had Caden starting his class closer to fifteen and a half, where I purposely kept Keilie from signing up at fifteen, like her friends.  I just didn't feel like she was mature enough to be in charge of a vehicle, even after all of her affirmations that she was.

Tonight, on a whim, I decided to give her her first instruction lesson.  Nothing fancy, not even leaving the driveway, but enough for her to feel and understand the break and gas pedals.  We spent 20 minutes reversing and pulling forward in a bunch of different directions, tap, tap, tapping to get the feel of forward and back.  She felt how it feels to turn the wheel before advancing, and also as she was driving.  Many different things were felt today, before she experienced them under stress on the road.  She got some of the slamming out of her system, too.  I know she'll slam more when she's stressed, but it won't be because she didn't know how things felt for the very first time.  Soon after, I felt she was ready for the church parking lot.  Round and round the parameter we went, learning how it feels to turn the wheel and accelerate without the fear of other cars.  I will freely admit it-- It was FUN!

As I watched her profile, again marveling at her beauty, I couldn't believe I was sitting in the passenger seat for my second child, helping her learn something so monumental.  My gosh, my Keilie is going to be driving soon!  I'm ashamed to say that the bigger shock for this year was that I'd have a Senior that would have graduated, been filling out college and mission paperwork, becoming an adult.  But as I watched my Keilie-girl experience new sensations tonight, as I witnessed the surprise and determination and utter excitement, I couldn't help but feel pure jubilation that she's old enough to learn, that she really is ready to drive (well, as ready as a child can be).  I'm less scared now, having seen her in action.  And just like with Caden, I realized I was born to teach my kids how to drive.  And help them with date ideas.  And get them all dolled up for special events.  And cheer like a maniac for their accomplishments.  Motherhood is freaking amazing sometimes!!!

Irrational

Sickness around the end of December/first of January is always going to be a trigger for me.  Always.  Not only did Shelby and Caden get sick December 2013 through January 2014, but the downward spiral of the worst depression of my life started December 2014 when all the kids got a fever at my parents house.  Everyone was sick (not only my kids, but my sisters' kids as well-- it was bad!), but because Caden was sick, it flipped a switch in my brain that sucked me down, down, down.

It seems that every single year since, we've had sickness.  And this year has been no different.  Tyson started telling me he didn't feel well on New Years Eve.  As Ashlee and her family were packing up to leave on New Years Day, Shelby could barely move.  Yesterday it was Brennon and my turn.  Fever, headache, weakness, no appetite.  Thankfully it's only a 24-hour kind of thing.  While I still feel weak today, I am doing much better hour-by-hour.

The pathetic thing about the whole ordeal is not that they didn't feel well, but that my concern for the boys was so much more than it was for Shelby.  Again, my mind was triggered to Caden's beginning, my fear was rekindled about my son being more than just "cold" sick.  I watched the boys closer, asked them about their symptoms more, and felt a deeper concern for them than I did for Shelby.  It's hard to admit it out loud, but it's the truth.

As Brennon gets closer to his 12th birthday, I do feel a stirring of unease.  I know it's irrational, but I can't help it.  I know I'd watch Shelby closer if it had been Keilie.  Ugh, even thinking of a different child gets me feeling nervous and fearful.  Anyway, I guess I just want to recognize that I realize I have irrational fears, and remember when I read these words in the future that I plan to work at overcoming these thoughts every chance I can.

White Board

I have loved my kids teachers for a while now.  Keilie has gotten some that I haven't liked very much, but for the most part, I've been fortunate to have good relationships with my kids' teachers.  However, Tyson's teacher is quickly becoming one of my all-time favorites.  Yes, she sees Tyson's potential, so she's gotten him extra work and help from talking with 4th grade teachers and things.  But it is the stuff that she does daily for all of the kids that has her climbing the charts at breakneck speed.

After the kids leave for the day, Mrs. Mason takes time to prepare a white board for the next day.  She has a question for them to ponder and answer, something that everyone can see.  Every day, after the kids have answered, she takes a picture of the board as a whole, and then close ups of the individual post-its for parents to see.  As I've commented to her how much I love the answers, as well as her mad artistic skills, she said it's her favorite way to learn more about the kids she teaches, so she can better understand how to help them in all situations.  Is that not the coolest?!

One answer of Tyson's had me cringing as he said he'd like to be the thief (instead of the cop), so that he could keep the money he steals and get rich.  Yeah, he said that.  Yeah, that made me feel awesome as his mother.  Mom Win of the year, ladies and gentleman.  Mrs. Mason and I had a good laugh at that one.  She said Tyson was giggling the entire time he was writing it, and that she knew he was going to have the kids laughing at his answer.  It's good to know she understands that he isn't really being groomed as a criminal-- no matter how much we celebrate Jail Time when we play Monopoly!

Here are a few of my favorites.  Look at her artistry!!!!!

You can see it now, huh?  Best Teacher EVER award is in the bag for Mrs. Mason!!!!!