Temple

My Shelby-kins got to go to the Temple with the Youth tonight.

I cannot believe this beauty is twelve years old already.  She is a joy in our family.  I love her so much.

Siblings

I found this on Keilie's phone, and sent it to myself.

I know how much I miss him, but I cannot imagine how much she does.  Every day she goes to school and I'm the one in the car, not him, must be a reminder.  Every time she rides the bus home instead of his loud Bronco (that she always complained about but I know she secretly loved), it must be a reminder.  And those are just two tiny things that happen every weekday, not to mention the millions of reminders at home and church and memory.  It was always Caden and Keilie and the three littles.  And now it is just Keilie with the three littles.  I can't think of her sorrow without tearing up or full-on bawling.  Man, Caden is missed.  Maybe by Keilie most of all.

Easter Surprises

Our neighbors are the best.  I'm serious, we've always been blessed to have the best neighbors, people that we can get along with and not mind sharing a fence with, but these ones are the best.  Not only do they come to support our kids' activities, even going so far as to send them letters in the mail if they cannot make it, but they throw things over the fence when they're jumping on the tramp.  If we have friends over, say on a Wednesday, they count the kids and then send over enough candy for all.  It is seriously the coolest thing.  I want to be like them when I grow up.

As I was walking around the neighborhood, Jane drove up next to me and asked, "If we happen to throw some Easter Eggs over the fence before we leave for Italy, would Mira get them?  Dick just has so many ideas for your kids!"  My heart, it kind of melted.  And then I got this text from her the night before they left early the next morning.

I'm not even joking when I say it felt like Christmas morning running out front to see what they'd done.  Words cannot describe my emotions when I saw this.

 I know it is hard to see, but those are Easter baskets hanging from our tree. 

As the sun came up, I actually set my alarm a little early so that I could wake the kids and have them go out.  With Keilie and Shelby leaving well before the boys, I wanted to make sure they all got them at the same time, and so I could get a picture.  Isn't it so adorable that the "Easter Bunny" left a trail?!

I also love the ribbon, far up in the tree, that doesn't have a basket tied to the end of it. *I know it is super hard to see, but it is waving in the top right-hand corner of the above picture, curling just above the cloud line*  That one is for Caden in Heaven.  I will not take that ribbon down-- it will come down on its own someday.  It's a daily reminder of the friends that love our kids enough to give them gifts, but love me enough to let me know that they'll never forget my Caden.

Happy Easter to the Dirks' kids from Dick and Jane Carlton.  Or as we call them, Grandpa Carlton and Grandma Jane.  I love my neighbors so much.

Spokane

With all of the neck lump stuff with Randy confirmed as nothing too serious, we were referred to an ENT in town to remove it.  Upon looking at the pathology report, however, the local ENT that removed Randy's tonsils a few years ago told us that it was too complex, and referred us to either Spokane or Seattle.  That kind of caught us off guard a little bit, since he never even looked at either the ultrasound or MRI imaging.  We couldn't understand what would be so complex about removing it if it wasn't cancerous.  Regardless, we made the appointment for Spokane, since it is an hour closer to home, and drove up after getting the kids off to school.

Two and a half hours of driving to be told that it was most likely not attached to a nerve that would cause problems in the future (since it wasn't bothering him in the least for the past few years, and wasn't causing any pain currently), so the procedure would take two hours, snip the entire tumor off, and he'd be headed home same day.  His confidence reassured me that this truly was nothing to worry about at all.  Randy had to know-- "Our local ENT said it was too complex and that I needed to come here to you.  Why?"

"Well, the nice thing about this profession is you can choose the things you do and do not want to do.  He may not do as many neck surgeries as I do, so he may just not have wanted to do it.  I do this sort of thing all the time, so I don't mind taking on the case.  We'll see you May 8th!"  We ate and drove home.  Five hours of driving for a 15 minute appointment-- awesome.  But the confidence that man was exuding makes me glad for those five hours.

May 8th, five years and 1 day after Caden got his first tumor removed, another Dirks is going under the knife for a tumor removal.  Weird.  Man, I'm so grateful it's not cancer!!!

Wednesday

Wednesday is a day where I feel that I can allow the kids to invite friends over.  We don't have much planned before Mutual at 7:00pm, so I can always kind of count on enough time for them to really get into an activity without needing to take someone else somewhere.  Wednesday is kind of our play day.  And when I mean have enough time to really get into an activity, I mean something like this.

After making up the funnest game on the tramp for a few hours, they decided it was time to relax with a movie.  But not just any movie, oh no, my friends, it needed a fort.  I didn't think they could get any cuter after spying on their cute made-up game on the tramp, but boy was I proven wrong.

I also love that when either Brennon or Tyson has a friend over, the other brother is automatically included.  There never is a time where one asks for alone time with their friend.  It's a given-- they play together.  And if they both have a friend over at the same time, all four play together without a single argument or hurt feelings.  It's so awesome to me!  I love Wednesdays.

Round 2

The carpet is in.  The floor has been sprayed liberally with Kilz, so WOW, does it ever smell like chemicals in that house.  Urine stench or chemicals?  I'll take the chemicals, thank you.

I had a migraine slam me yesterday afternoon that had me in bed for hours, and then covering my eyes with a night mask until the sun went down.  Randy went over and took a few pictures for me (which I couldn't look at very well, because the lowest brightness setting on his phone was too piercing), but he missed a few angles that mean a lot to me: The Main area of that amazing home.  I went alone, during the quiet hours of the morning, after dropping Keilie off at school.  It was a peaceful time to just feel and remember and cry without watching eyes.

 My first glimpses as I entered.  The carpet and paint have never looked better.

The sunshine streaming through that door filled me with such happiness, it came from my heart as a sigh and wet cheeks.

The pantry that our family built, the floor we all helped to install.  The trees that have grown in in the way I imagined they would, as a full fence of greenery.

The shelves that Caden, Randy, and Steve built for me.  This Living Room holds so many memories.

 The dog messed up this portion of the lawn.

The renter messed up this one.  That large dead spot is where he built that fire pit.  I hope the seed we laid grows in quickly.  This yard holds many happy memories, too.

I hadn't noticed the mat the installers made when I entered, so focused was I on other views.  I hiccuped/giggled as I walked up to see this as I made my way upstairs.

I got many angles upstairs, but I don't feel I need to post pictures of every room.  But I did want to show how many doors needed to be replaced.  I also want to show the differences in baseboard paint.  When we left, only a few of the baseboards had been painted white.  We had plans when we saved up enough for continued updates of this home to paint the rest of them white, as well as upgrade the doors from that cheap, ugly "wood."  Because of the new paint (which had already been done 2 years ago, and should not have been needed) and the entire home needing new carpet and pad, we weren't able to update anything that we'd saved for.  Next time.

Randy met me there.  As we were leaving, the girl that purchased the rental directly next to this home from us this last summer came out to send her girls on the bus.  "Hey, any chance you're selling this one?  I have a friend that is currently looking."  As we told her the story, she had a solution for everything we said.  "Kilz sprayed on the subfloor will help with the dog urine."  Done!  "Grass seed in back will help the lawn come in nice."  Check!  "Don't allow pets or smoking the next time you rent."  Both were specific DON'TS this time-- they did it against our wishes.  We did everything right, but we can't know what our renters will do.  I hope we can add an addendum this time that states we can evict them if they smoke or bring pets into the home.  Doubt it (because that would be too easy), but I hope we can.

Either way, this home has a final cleaning, as well showing today.  I feel much happier about the state of things in our Safe Haven Home.

Contained

Brennon came home on Friday, March 29th with this.

It's a self-contained ecosystem.  They'd been learning about them in Science and got to bring home their prototypes at the end of the quarter.  I thought the duct tape was there for transportation ease, but in fact, it's there because he is not to take the top off for any reason.  I was confused, because...

this.  I know it's hard to see, because it is the same color as the rocks, and because it is so little, but that, my friends, is a fish. 

Me: So, you never take the top off?  How will the fish get oxygen?  How will it eat?
Brennon: The plant cleanses, the algae feeds, and the fish lives. 

I thought, "Cool, I never have to feed this fish.  And when it dies, I'll throw the whole thing away without ever having to touch or smell it.  No mess, no fuss."  I gave it three days. 

Two and a half weeks later, I'm seriously stunned.  That fish just keeps on swimming.  Where I was watching and waiting each day for its death, I am now rooting for this little guy to live a long time, just so I can watch this Science in action.  Where I once thought it an inconvenience to have it on my kitchen counter (granted, pushed back in an unused corner, but still), I now look at it multiple times a day.  Do I wish it was a bright orange fish, you bet.  But I am actually enjoying something I literally gave a huffy breath about (think Napoleon Dynamite) when Brennon walked in the door, proud as can be.  Maybe on the three week anniversary this Friday, we'll give him a name...

Forget

While practicing my flute a few weeks ago for the song I played yesterday, I had an experience that has come to my mind many times over the last few weeks.  I felt that I needed to bear my testimony in Sacrament meeting on the last week of March (one week early since we had General Conference the first week of the month, and because we had Stake Conference the week after that), but the chance never came up.  Once Tyson zoomed up to bear his sweet testimony, a steady stream came behind him.  But the thoughts and the feelings will not leave me.

Because I don't play my flute on a regular basis, whenever anyone asks me to play for them, I kind of have to review it all and practice a lot at first to get the fingering and the lip positions right.  I also have to practice breathing for pitch, vibrato, and to simply be able to finish the piece without feeling faint.

I learned this particular piece years ago for a Christmas concert Marianne invited me to be a part of.  It had been years since I'd pulled my flute out, so I was thrilled at the chance to share my talent for the first time in Richland.  Since then, I've played this song for her three times.  Each time I play, I feel the spirit so strong.  The music, the words, and the building of the flute part are just gorgeous.  I have even had to reign in my emotions while playing, because I want to weep at the feelings as we crescendo all the way to the end.  It is an amazing song.  I have a recording of the song on my phone from that Christmas long ago, and listen to it often.  I know this song inside and out.  I have most of it memorized, I've played it so much, although nerves in the moment would never allow me to play without the music.

However, on this particular morning of practice, I'd played it through three or four times, when in the middle of a section that has no less than four key changes, I got to a part and completely forgot how to play the flute.  I stared at the notes, and could not remember the fingering for any of it.  I could still read music, which is something that I have been able to do for 17 years now, but I couldn't remember how to play those notes on my flute.  I was stunned.  I had just played this piece, just moments ago and for the last 20 minutes, yet I sat there not being able to remember ever playing it before.  I knew the sounds, but I couldn't figure out how to play it.  I put the flute to my lips to play a simple scale, and couldn't remember how the fingering went.  At all.  This has happened to me before, but it is fear of playing in front of hundreds that stills my fingers, not true forgetting.  I have always been able to reel in my fears and just play.  Worried, I downloaded a fingering chart, and painstakingly retaught myself the fingering for not only this difficult section, but how to play every note.  Truly, none of it came back to me.  For days.

Once I played the section through a few times, I turned on my recording and played along.  I messed up a few times, but told myself to just keep playing it, getting the muscle memory back, and it would come.  I had to work hard to get it back.  I don't know why this happened, but as I was pondering over it, a thought came to my head: Sometimes that's life.

This struck me.  Whether physical or spiritual life, sometimes something comes along and makes us forget what we truly want, what we've been working hard to attain.  Something makes us mess up and have to start where we are and keep going, or begin again.  Sometimes those choices and consequences are out of our control, whether because of someone else's choices or Heavenly Father helping us to grow and turn to him.  However, sometimes those choices are our own, with consequences we cannot choose.  But if we pick ourselves back up, put our best foot forward, if we do all we can, if we practice until we get the muscle memory back, and if we put our trust and faith in our Heavenly Father that it will all work out better with His help than we could ever have done on our own, we will give a performance that was better than ever, one that you'll be even more proud of because of what you did when it was so hard.

I was scared for weeks that I would not do well.  I was scared before and during both of the practices with the choir, wondering if it would be better to just say I couldn't perform.  But as I put my faith in myself and my Heavenly Father, I gained the confidence and performed better than ever before.  I get to play it for our ward choir at our Easter program on Sunday.  While I hope I never forget the way I did for days and days, I will never forget what it taught me.  Sometimes life is hard, and sometimes it doesn't make sense, but we can do hard things with Him.

18 Months

I have been the Nursery leader in my ward for two and a half years now.  I did not want the calling when it was extended, but quickly came to realize that it was going to change my life.  And by quickly, I mean all kids screaming and crying as their parents dropped them off, with twin boys that I knew would be my greatest challenge.  By the time that two hours of that first Sunday came to a close, one twin had bitten a brand new, first Sunday in Nursery, 18-month old little girl on the cheek (think perfect round teeth marks on her tiny cheek), while, at that exact moment of realization that what I was seeing actually was happening, the other twin was repeatedly bashing the head of another child against the toy cabinet.  I came home, walked straight to my room, shut and locked the door, closed all blinds and pulled the covers over my head, and sobbed.  I felt more drained from those two hours than even some of our cancer care stories.

But over the course of the next few weeks, I realized that these babes, these sweet spirit children of God, were going to truly change my life.  I have come to depend on them more than they depend on me.  I have felt the spirit so strong as they teach me about their knowledge and love of Jesus.  I have felt the spirit as they sing out I am a Child of God with all of their heart, just moments after they all had to tell me that they had once pooped their pants.  I have felt the spirit that the world truly would be a better place if we looked at it through the eyes of a child.

Because of General Conference last week, this would have been the first Sunday after Caden's 18-month anniversary.  If it would have been his birth, not death, little Caden would have come into my class today.  We would have played, laughed, learned about Jesus, and sang our hearts out as we danced and bent and swayed.  I would have gotten down on the floor the second he entered the room, because I want him to see me at his level.  I would have touched his back at one point of the time, since I know that kids crave a gentle touch.  I would have used his name each time I was talking to him, making sure that he knew that I was conversing with him and cared about what he wanted to tell me.  I would have spoken with him about whatever he wanted to tell me, making him feel as if he was the most special little boy in the whole world.  I would have asked him about what toy he was showing interest in, finding a way to play with him, or find him more cars to send down the big slide toy.  I would have kissed him, should he have gotten a little nervous or hurt.  I would have taken him on my lap and held him until he was ready to be put down.  I would have cherished my time with him, like I do with each and every child that comes to my class.  I would have told him many times how much I loved him, that I would miss him during the week, and that I couldn't wait to see him again next week.  And he would know: I do love him, as I love each and every child that comes to me in Nursery.  We would have had a blast together.

But today I don't get to have any of those situations with my Caden.  This 18-month anniversary is not a joyous time that I get to spend time each week with him.  I don't get to see him, kiss him, snuggle him, play with him, and make him feel special-- it's only in my mind and memories that that can happen anymore.  My heart has been hurting since April 4th, realizing that 18-months has been a special time in my life for the past few years of Nursery, but only means continued sorrow where my own baby is concerned.  I haven't looked upon his face for a full 18-months now, except in pictures and dreams.  Oh, how I miss him.

Today was actually Stake Conference.  I came early to practice with the choir, since I was playing my flute with them for a beautiful rendition of Beautiful Savior.  I would not have been with my 18-month Caden today, anyway.  As I was setting up my flute, one of my former Nursery kids that went on to Sunbeams in January came up to me, asked me to pick her up, put her arms around my neck, squeezed me so tight, and whispered, "I miss you!"  And then she went back to her seat.  My heart could not have been more full of love and tenderness for these sweet babes that are placed in my care for now just one hour a week.  Heavenly Father knew I needed them much more than they needed the structure of a permanent teacher those many years ago when I stepped into their room for the very first time.  I may have been called to be their teacher, just as I was called to be Caden's mother, but in truth, they're the ones that teach me.

I am the luckiest girl in the world.

Home

When Randy and I both saw an opportunity to make money on our home on Jason Loop, I knew it was a great investment opportunity for us, but it didn't make it any easier to move.  Truly, that home was my favorite of any we'd ever owned.  It was our safe haven against the storms of cancer care.  It was the blessed reunion of my family after we'd been separated from them for 3 weeks of the four for months.  It was where we came together to play, eat, laugh, and love together between bouts of horrible suffering.  It was my heaven on earth.  In the space of just a few days, we found the home we wanted to buy from a friend, had contracts signed, and moved out.  I cried for an entire month after we left.

While Alan, our property manager, was looking for potential renters, one couple stood out to us all.  They didn't have the best credit scores, but they'd written us a letter, begging us to read it, asking for us to consider them after all of the hardships they'd endured over the past few years.  Tammy told us of an illness that had drained all of their resources, yet through it all they'd paid off both of their car payments and had gotten themselves out of debt.  We later found out that she'd had breast cancer.  She ended her letter with promises that they'd treat our home like it was their own.  We'd come to find out that we do not, under any circumstances, treat our homes the same way.

Our first "run-in" with this couple was when a friend said she'd seen dogs.  That home was rented as a pet-free, smoke-free home.  There was also some confusion about some extra cars and people that had been seen staying.  Alan set up an appointment for us to walk through the home.  We arrived to find the man there, super happy and inviting.  The house had been decorated super cute, everything looked great, but they did have a woman living with them that had "fallen on hard time," that had two dogs.  Alan was furious.  He forcibly told them that that was against policy, that the reason we do background checks is not just for the people that want to rent, but for every single person living in the home.  He told them that they were in violation of not only that, but that they hadn't even consulted us about pets.  They were made to sign a new addendum about the dogs and pay a deposit for the animals.  I wasn't thrilled, but there wasn't really anything that we could do.

A few months later, while driving behind the home, I noticed that they'd constructed a fire pit in the center of the grass area out of some sort of decorative brick.  I was truly speechless.  1) that yard isn't big, like at all, so I couldn't understand how they thought they could have something in back that big, and 2) in the center of the grass without asking?  What. The. Heck!

Lastly, about six months ago, we caught the man smoking in the garage.  We immediately called Alan.  That was the absolute worst thing they could do!  He demanded that he stop.  You better believe I drove by the house more, always sneaking up on the house, trying to catch him.  I did, a few times.  I told Randy that I didn't care if they begged us again, I wanted them out when the contract was over.  Turns out, I didn't matter.  They'd separated, she'd been gone for a while, he wanted Alan to help him find a smaller rental.  Needless to say, once Alan saw the state of our home, he told him that he wouldn't help him again.

We arrived in the home on April 1st, the day after he was contractually obligated to vacate.  Upon entering, you were slammed with the scent of urine.  Strong urine.  As you looked down the long hallway, all you noticed was carpet dotted with blackness, and urine along the tops of all baseboards.  My mind couldn't compute it, I was in shock.  On the far wall from the front door, a large gash looked like he'd taken a bat to the walls.  It kept getting worse.  Suffice it to say, 7 doors needed to be replaced, with the worst one being the Master Bedroom door that had been punched through both sides.  Because of all of the holes, and I mean HOLES, we needed to paint the entire house again.  The carpet cleaner called in said the carpet needed to be replaced throughout the entire home.  Not only had the dog used the carpet and baseboards downstairs, it had used them all upstairs as well.  Special sprays for the wood and baseboards once the carpet had been removed were used to eliminate the actual urine residue.  The house was a wreck.

As I walked through each room, memories flooding my mind, I cried at what hate and disgust and neglect it had been through since we walked through more than 18 months before.  One room, Caden's last room, had actual smoke blackened walls.  As I walked around, loving the home so much, I actually considered moving back into it, so it could be loved again, as if it had feelings.  The sad truth is that we'd actually fit better now.  It wouldn't be the same love and happiness, because Caden is gone, but that home would be filled with love just the same.

In a small sense, I can kind of understand the holes in the walls and doors.  In the heat of an argument, he lost it and bashed things.  I don't condone it, but I can see that it could happen, how he could feel remorse once the heat of the moment dispelled.  But the pee that covered the floors and baseboards was a daily allowance.  They allowed it to happen again, and again, and again, day after day, for months, maybe even years.  That, I cannot understand.  How can you do that to a home that isn't yours?  How can you say, "We'll treat that home as if it was our own," and think that that is how others actually live?!  It disgusts me.

I was happy to see that he'd removed the stupid bricks from the fire pit, not surprised to see a massive circle of dirt and ash.  We'll lay down seed after we give the lawn some tender loving, and hopefully get it back to the green beauty where we used to play duck, duck, goose, and tag as a family.  And then we walked behind the fence to see he'd just piled them along the fence line... We get the awesome job of dumping those bricks.  Awesome.

It is now almost two weeks later.  We've lovingly trimmed, raked, mowed, and taken care of the rock flower bed in the front, with plans to do the back soon.  I've missed taking care of that tiny yard.  I've swept that front porch and wiped down the storm door, all things that I made sure looked great.  The house has been painted, with the painters coming back to prime the garage.  No matter what we've done, we can't get the overwhelming scent of smoke out of there.  Once they prime it, we'll see if we need to remove the liners we installed while living there that insulate the garage door.  I imagine we'll have to remove them, but Randy isn't so sure.  We'll see.  Carpet and doors have been ordered, we're hoping to have them all installed before May.  A cleaning service came in and cleaned everything.  Once the carpet is laid, I'll go in and sweep and mop one last time, as well as wipe everything down from the dust of construction.  I'll love every minute of that cleaning, now that the deep cleaning of their filth has been removed.  I'll go through every room, now perfected and ready for new renters, and give it the love it deserves.  I'll cry tears of gratitude this time, knowing the home is once again at its best.

Although it hurt so much to see it so trashed, I cannot imagine selling the home.  It will have renters again, maybe even renters that treat it the way these people did.  However, over the past two weeks, I've seen it transformed once again.  I know that no matter what is done, we'll be able to bring it back to what it should be.  We'll just have to spend our own money to get it there.  The deposit they will not get back only covers the cost of the grass seed and maybe the cost of the cleaning crew-- carpet, paint, doors, the additional garage care, and the dump fee of those fire pit bricks comes out of our pocket.  We may or may not take them to collections, understanding that we may never get money back, but it would show on their credit, making it harder for them to rent a home from anyone else for a long time.  No one should have to go through this, especially when the home means as much to them as ours means to us.

Update 1

Brennon had his first follow-up appointment with Dr. Butler today.  Things are moving along much faster than I ever thought possible.  The expander retainer said 4-6 weeks, which was much faster than I remember needing mine.  So when he said, "no more key," I was stunned.  His upper pallet is where it needs to be! 

They didn't take the retainer out, but Brennon wasn't as concerned about getting it out, only that he wouldn't have to feel dizzy every night after it was turned.  Once the front teeth are aligned properly, he made need a few more turns of the key, but for now, he needs only normal braces care.

They placed a spring on either side, between the molars and the outer brackets, actually wiring the outer brackets to the wire to ensure they didn't turn inwards towards the center teeth.  This is to help push the front four teeth together.  He'll go back in five weeks to get a larger spring, until the teeth do not have gaps. 

March 28- April 11

I love that you can already see progress of his rounded smile!

I just have to brag about my Brennon.  I was worried that he was going to complain about every aspect of this adventure, since Brennon tends to let everyone know when he's hungry, uncomfortable, hot, or tired.  Justifiably, braces do hurt.  Not only does the metal of the brackets rub against the tender skin of the inner lips, but the pulling and tugging of the teeth leave the gums and jaw feeling bruised and quite sore.  Add onto that the expanding of a mouth, and you have some very real discomfort.  But Brennon hasn't complained once.  He's never said a thing about it.  He knows he sounds different with that expander retainer, but he just corrects the difficult words and moves on.  I'm incredibly proud of how well he's dealing with all of this.  He's exceeded my expectations.  Again.

Last post I asked if there was any way he could have more metal in his moth with that expander retainer on top, spacer retainer on bottom, and the four brackets with wire.  Apparently, with the newly added springs, he can have more metal added.  I'm not going to ask that question again this time, since it could prompt Dr. Butler to add brackets to all teeth next time...

Clean?

I was joking around last month that if we can have self-cleaning ovens, we should have self-cleaning laundry, bathrooms, dishes, and floors by 2020.  I was saying this because I was mopping my floors, getting a major workout that left me disgustingly sweaty, and wishing I didn't have to do it ever again.

This month I thought I'd try a new "recipe," one where I actually scrubbed up against the cupboards and on my baseboards.  I thought I'd try this one.

 Words like "Spotless," "Streak-free," and "Smelling amazing," hooked me.  I mixed all ingredients, donned my rubber gloves, and got down on my hands and knees for an hour as I scrubbed each and every tile throughout our entire main level.  We had it measured last year when we had a professional come in and deep clean the tile and grout-- that's 900 sq. feet of tile!

 By the time I was done with the other side of the house, I came to find this at my beginning.  I wanted to cry.  Now I was a sweaty mess with burning thighs and streaked, unscented floors.  Since I'd gone to all of the trouble to get clean floors, I couldn't just shrug and say "See you in a month, floors," so I grabbed my Swiffer Wet Mop and got to work.

15-minutes later, arms jello, knees shaking, and back blazing, I got this.  That's AFTER my Spotless, Streak-free, smells amazing floor cleaner.  Swiffer Wet Mop forever more.

It kind of sucks that it takes so much for something that no one really appreciates anyway.  What do we care about clean tile floors?  It's not as if we have crawling babies or eat on them-- my family doesn't even really think about the floors.  Maybe floors move to my #1 of self-clean needs after today, where it was bathrooms one month ago.  And now I'm off to the dentist for a filling because I suck at flossing.  Best. Day. Ever.

Visitors

We came home from Ashlee's house to rain, rain, rain.  This morning, while opening the blinds, I was just in time to watch these two fly in and touch down in our backyard.

 Obviously I couldn't get closer for a better picture, but these ducks walked around the yard, spent some time in the ivy that creeps up over the fence, and then made their way to our pond.

She went in first, then he joined her.  They stayed for a while and then flew off.  Honestly, I hope they smelled Mira's scent.  I hope they don't come and lay their egg close to our water source, even though I think they are absolutely adorable.  Because, honestly, this is Mira's house, and I will not keep her away from wherever she wants to go.  It was still fun to see them waddling around in the yard.  I love ducks.

Ashlee's Home

Although Randy wasn't there the entire time, many hours were spent with 20 people in Ashlee's home.  I'm telling you, it was a blast!

 Rollerskating with Uncle Russ for the older kids (minus Keilie, who had a sore elbow from falling wrong on the trampoline), and Children's museum for the younger kids with Grandma and Aunt Ashlee.  Danielle stayed home with a napping Drew, Dad stayed home with a hurt back, and I stayed home with a migraine and dizzy brain.

 Aunt Ashlee's crepes!

The tulip festival.  It was neat for it to be the first time for everyone there, even with two families having lived in Washington (one even living in the same town) for many years.

 Virtual Reality.  With Keilie's extremely active brain, it was no wonder that she topped the list!  All of the kids had a good time and beat their goals, but Keilie shined as she proved just how fast her brain can process things.

 Everly's favorite thing in the world is brushing hair.  I'm not sure who's loving this more...

Austen's baptism.  I sneaked this picture from behind the piano.  I was fortunate to be able to play the piano and give the talk on the Gift of the Holy Ghost.  There was an easel in front of me, so I couldn't get the whole family, but I got the most important person: Austen.  Even if she isn't looking at me.

 General Conference

"Aunt Steph, will you sit in this chair right here (tapping the seat) and take a picture with me?"

 I could have gotten pictures of playing 4-square, biking, rollerblading, and playing at the school playground around the corner, jumping on the trampoline, Grandma's Easter Egg Hunt, or the many games and activities they played at the house, but you get the idea-- our week was spent in a fabulously fun fashion.  We missed Brooke, Chad, and Kenyan (and Caden, or course), but look forward to our family reunion in July!  The Burrell Family truly is a cool family!

Mess

While preparing for my parents, Danielle, and her kids to break their journey at our house before heading up to Ashlee's, I went to move Brennon's and Tyson's things from little fingers' reach.

My heart warmed at the sight of Tyson's organization.  How adorable is that?!  I didn't move it myself after seeing it so organized.  I wanted him to place his things just-so, since I know how much I love that.  He and Caden are alike in their love of order, too.

I caught Mira peeking out the window on the afternoon they were coming.  I attribute it to her excitement that Grandma and Grandpa Burrell were coming-- she knows they love to spoil her!

 I miss this age.

I really do miss this mess, even though I remember the hardships of earlier years when I wished this away multiple times every day for years.  I miss them terribly now that they've gone home.  I love that I got to have them play at Aunt Steph's house!

I cannot wait to be a grandparent!  With the amount of time I'm planning and preparing now, I can guarantee I'm going to be a good one:)  I love the cleaning before family comes, the mess, noise, and chaos while they're here, and the putting back together when they leave.  I love everything about being with family!

Again?

Towards the end of March, Randy went into his doctor for two reasons.  1) a bleeding ulcer, and 2) a lump in his neck.  The bleeding ulcer was taken care of fairly quickly.  He was prescribed some large doses of acid blockers for a few days, and told, while bleeding, not to take ibuprofen or Aspirin.  It wasn't long before he stopped bleeding.  However, the lump was not so quick.

Because our doctor knows we've experienced a medical trauma recently, he told us he was going to mark everything as STAT, so we'd get answers quicker, not because he felt we were in eminent danger of cancer.  He used words like cancer, and tumor, and even went so far as to say that, of the four cases of neck lumps he's seen since arriving in Richland five years ago, only two were cancer, and no one had died.  Sometimes he really does say the wrong things, even if he means well.  Randy was able to get into an ultrasound that night.

Doctor said that if it measured larger than 1cm, they'd biopsy it.  As soon as the wand touched his neck, I knew it would be biopsied.  It was much larger than you could feel.  The radiologist suggested getting an MRI before getting the biopsy, since MRI has the capabilities of detecting cancer.

The only thing the MRI did was make us wonder even more if it was cancer, because it glowed so white with the contrast.  It measured 1.7x2.0x2.5cm, about the size of a large Costco grape.

I feel they should have just gone with the images from the ultrasound and sent us directly to biopsy, since we really didn't learn anything new from the MRI.

March 29 found us at Kadlec Hospital.  This is Stacee, our ultrasound tech that got some good angles and shots before the Diagnostic Radiologist came in for the biopsy.  She acted as his assistant in everything.  It felt so weird to be here, not only because we were just days away from the 18-month anniversary of Caden's passing, or because it felt so surreal to even have to have thoughts that this could be cancer, but because I was allowed to stay in the room for what felt like an actual surgery.  I was in my street clothes, without a mask, while he was opening sterile needles, scalpels, and packages.  Just weird.

He came in to get Randy all numbed up.  Because the procedure was only going to be a few minutes, there was no real need for him to be put out with anesthesia.  They gave him a shot of Novocain, and got everything ready for the biopsy.  Before starting, they told us that it was going to be a bit tricky, since it was between and behind the artery and vein that provide blood and drain the brain.  There were a few possibilities for danger, but he felt they were minimal, but had to tell us about them anyway.  Then Randy signed to accept the procedure.  Once Pathology arrived, they got started.

Placing the ultrasound wand up to his neck, Doctor started to "insert the needle."  Only, it wasn't sharp at all.  Imagine the tip of a retractable pen, without the tip.  This needle looked like a microscopic pen, blunt with a hole.  There was no way they were going to be able to get that through the skin without some serious pressure.  Randy ended up saying, "You should maybe just use a scalpel."  Because he needed to take it at an angle in the tender, fragile neck, and knowing it was close to all of those major arteries, Randy said it was pretty uncomfortable and nerve-wracking to have him pressing so forcefully.  With as much pressure as he was applying, once the blood started to run down his neck, Randy said he wondered if there was a chance he really had nicked the artery.

The tumor (which, through extensive research over the last few days, we now understand doesn't mean "cancer") was so hard, it was difficult to get at the core.  This meant more pressure.  So. Much. Pressure.  After ten minutes of extreme pain, the doctor was able to send Pathology with two samples that collected cells, and eventually one sample that included a portion of the tumor.

Doctor came back and told us to imagine ourselves wearing a white t-shirt while camping.  We pick up a log, moving it from one location to another.  As we place the log, we look down at our white shirt, now covered with dirt, bark, and possibly moss and other particles left by the log.  Horrible cancers leave a bunch behind.  I wondered how much was left behind of Caden's rare, aggressive cancer.  But, Randy's preliminary findings didn't have much sloughed off.  Doctor said if it did end up being a cancer, it would be what was considered a better one.  We'd know more in 3-5 business days.

At one point, we were concerned it could be lymphoma.  In 2016, Randy had six months of serious hives.  When it was possibly a lymph that was swollen to that unnatural size, we looked at those hives as a possible lymphoma rash, especially once we learned they could come and go.  Since they'd come back this January, almost three years to the day of their start, we could easily look at it with our cancer goggles as just that.  We started to wonder if it could be possible that Randy had cancer while Caden was dying from it.  When we found another questionable spot on his shoulder, on the same side of the body as his neck lump, we started to truly consider that he might have lymphoma.

As we glided quickly towards our 18-month anniversary, we both had times where we said, "Thy will be done."  It did feel so surreal that there was a possibility that we could be going back to cancer care, but we never faltered from our Faith in our Heavenly Father.  We will never question whether we are loved and watched over by a loving Heavenly Father.

Last night we got the amazing news that it's a Schwannoma-- a tumor of the tissue that covers nerves, called a nerve sheath tumor.  It is not cancerous, nor will there ever be a chance of it becoming malignant.  He's being referred to an ENT for removal, since they don't want it to have a chance to pinch a nerve, and will be done with the lump forever.  The shoulder spot is most likely a lipoma, which we'll have surgically removed this year, since we've already met all deductibles and co-pays.

While some of the thoughts were scary to consider, I can honestly say that I felt peace throughout the entire two weeks of worry.  I knew, no matter what was in our future, we would do it together.  We truly are better together.

Rake

Because I tend to go a bit overboard while raking, as evidence of my back problems since 2016, I was overjoyed when Randy suggested we hire someone to power rake our yard this year.  I knew it would pull up a bunch of underbrush dead grass, but I was still amazed at just how much.

One particularly bad spot in our side yard.  I couldn't get a good picture as he was working in this area, because I felt like a creeper taking pictures of him working from our window, but I was estatic as I watched it bring up so much.

 Because the windows I was looking out were so far away from him, I felt like I could try and capture a few from this vantage point.  I'm not sure why it weirded me out, but it did.  I certainly wouldn't like someone taking pictures of me while I was working in the yard.  I love the line to his left where he hasn't worked, and the layer of dead grass he's brought to the surface all over the yard to his right.

 There ended up being four piles in the front, three piles in the side yard from above, two piles from the side yard near our driveway, and four piles in the backyard.  Then he edged the entire yard, and mowed.  All for the amount it would have cost for us to rent the thatcher and do it all ourselves.  Not too shabbidy-shab!

Glorious!