TOFW 2019

I got to join Ashlee and her friends in Portland, OR this weekend for Time Out For Women.  I left after noon to drive down.  That drive is gorgeous, with the columbia river on my right, and the majestic mountains with their fall trees on my left.  The last 1/2 mile was what felt like the longest portion of the drive, since it took me 30 minutes.  Other than that, it was an uneventful, beautiful drive.

There weren't any other people on the street as we were walking to the conference center, so Jenny came up with this genius picture.  Center: Jenny  Left to Right: Connie, KaraBeth, Trista, Ashlee, and me.

It was a different forum than they normally do.  I didn't know if I would like it, but was pleasantly surprised that I really did.  Instead of a couple speakers and a musical performance, they had a Q&A of the presenters.  Their answers were all so different, yet all felt so profound, I found myself even like a presenter that I don't normally care for.  He's a great guy, but he's so dry.  I loved the musician, both her voice and her humor.  I left liking the Friday portion more than I expected, which is awesome.  We stopped off at Shari's for some dinner and dessert, headed back to the hotel, and got into bed around 11:30pm, or so.  It was so nice to be with Ashlee's friends, but even better to be with Ashlee.

 Don't judge, but we left before my least favorite presenter, which was the last person before lunch.  It worked out well.  We made our way to Red Robin on a beautiful Fall afternoon.

I look like a goof, but at least I am looking up.  I'd just placed my phone on the table and didn't realize they were trying to capture a picture.  Hence my raised head, and my hands trying to cover up my phone.  So guilty.

I loved all of the presenters on Saturday (remember, we left before the one that is not my favorite), and I loved the music by The Bonner Family, too.  As soon as it was over, they drove me to my car, where I drove home while they stayed and played in Oregon.  I love Time Out for Women, I love making new friends, I love spending time with my sisters.

Hell Week

Thursday, October 24

Hell Week at Orange Theory, Day 1

Theme: Throw Back

Jamie said that with the theme being Throw Back, we could wear her Pink Floyd shirts.  I was game.  Before.

After

We survived a great workout.  I love that I unwittingly kept up with the Halloween theme by growing a horn during the workout, scene above.  I'm that committed.

And then Tara showed up for the workout after ours with a Pink Floyd shirt, so we obviously had to snap a pic.  Poor girl, standing next to sweaty me.  EW!

Side Note: I am the worst when it comes to looking at the right place for selfies.  Stephanie, look at the camera!!  If I was the photographer, I'd have screamed for them to smile and look right here, and then made myself cry because I was screaming.  I'm like that as a photographer.

Friday, October 25th

Hell Week, Day 2

Theme: Halloween, Pumpkin, or Orange

The fun thing about this one is that Jamie and I did not coordinte this!  We'd gone to Walmart separately and ended up picking out the same shirt for the workout.  That's just fun.

I found out tonight that I have to show up for Jury Duty on Monday morning.  If the case goes into Tuesday, there is no way that I'll be able to get my 5 of the 8 workouts to earn my free shirt.  We'll see if I can do it!  And survive...

Legally

Shelby told me at the beginning of school this year that she wanted to get new glasses, that hers were too scratched and made it hard to see sometimes.  We made an appointment at a new place last week, a place so new that they were actually getting their names put on the door while we were there.  It smelled new and looked fantastic.  They're having a Grand Opening party on Friday.  Their equipment was brand new stuff where everything was done remotely from a desk while the machine Shelby looked through clicked and changed without the doctor being nose to nose with her.  However... because it was so new, they didn't have any music on, didn't have any magazines, and didn't have anything on the walls.  We were so bored as we sat in a bare room for 25 minutes.  It all felt very sterile.

The assistant kept asking me the exact same questions over and over.  "Does she ever complain about things being blurry? That it's getting harder to see from the back of the room?" and many others.  I told him no to all, even going so far to say, "Seriously, the only thing she's even commented on, let alone complained about, is her scratched glasses.  She's said nothing else."  He finally got my hint and just pressed "No" to all questions below.  When the doctor finally came in and looked at the notes, he too started to ask the same questions, as if he didn't believe what his assistant had written.  When the doctor started explaining, I finally got why they were so surprised.

When he asked if Shelby had ever needed to patch, I told him that Caden had, because he had amblyopia.  "Well, if Shelby had one eye that worked just a little bit better than the other, she would have amblyopia too.  Because she is legally blind in both eyes, the brain sees this as "ok," and uses both bad eyes equally, so she does not have amblyopia."  This was a first-- no one had ever told me that Shelby is legally blind in both eyes.  I knew she was severely farsighted with an astigmatism, but I didn't know that meant she was legally blind.  When I heard her prescription and googled it, sure enough, she's legally blind.

I remember the first time she ever put on her glasses.  She was three years old when we took her in, because amblyopia is hereditary and we'd just found out Caden had it when he was eight.  Shelby hadn't had a nap that day, so when Randy came home from work at 5:00pm and we tried them on her, she took them off, threw them, and cried.  We put her to bed, worried that we'd wasted the $300 on glasses that we'd need to fight her to wear, probably breaking them in the struggle.  The next morning, we sat her down and put them on.  She's never complained about them ever again.  One time, when she was about 8 years old, she got new glasses.  "Oh!  That's what leaves on trees look like!"  I get it now!!  Without proper prescription lenses, Shelby truly cannot see well.

As the assistant told me the total of her new glasses this morning, he kind approached me with some trepidation.  "Um... the total for the glasses is $281.79."  With gratitude in my heart, I practically threw my money at him.  I've always been grateful for her glasses, but I'm even more grateful today.  I hope she can one day qualify for Lasik.  That's one thing that's changed Randy's life for the better.  And one thing I have never had a problem with, being a 20/20 girl all my life.  Eye am the luckiest girl in the world.  Forgive me, eye just couldn't help myself.  I always have a ball with puns.

Strep

Saturday afternoon Shelby told me that her throat hurt, but that it might be because she'd had a lot of Skittles throughout the day.  I didn't think anything of it.  By that night, she told me her throat was really hurting her.  I told her to use some throat lozenges and drink lots of water, and that the irritation would go away soon as long as she didn't keep eating Skittles.

Sunday morning, Shelby was in a bad mood.  She was screaming at everyone, crying, and yelling that she didn't want to go to church.  I told her to take some time calming down upstairs before she jumped in the shower.  Before leaving for church, she asked if she could take a water bottle and some lozenges in her bag.  I said yes.  As soon as church was over, she was complaining of a headache.  I told her to take some ibuprofen, but didn't put two and two together.  By Sunday night, she was down with chills, a swollen throat with one massive tonsil, not much of an appetite, and basically a migraine.  I knew what that meant: Strep throat.

With Pink Eye last week and now Strep this week, I'm resigned to the reality that this is probably going to be a sick house this winter.  Goody.

Twins

Randy went with Keilie to a Youth Retreat on Friday night up at Ensign Ranch, so I decided to let the younger kids have a party where they invite one friend over for a few hours for pizza, snacks, games, and maybe a show.  It turned into an even bigger party when Shelby's friend could only come if her little brother and sister could come as well, since she was going to be their babysitter while their mom went to the Retreat.  It was a house full of fun.

After the movie, I asked the kids if we all wanted to play a game of Guestures together, because you know we love competition in our house.  It was fun watching the kids act things out for their peers, but it was even more fun seeing Brennon and Tyson's friends comment and animatedly agree about how hard it is to tell them apart.  They all said that at one point in their lives, they'd mistook one for the other at school, and that sometimes they have to look twice to tell them apart.  It's hard for me to see it when they're facing me, but their friends all agreed that they could be twins.  I admit, I love that.  I love that they're so close-- in brotherhood and appearance!

Wind

The weather for Tyson's soccer game yesterday was freezing and miserable.  45 degrees, raining, and super windy.  The sky looked super cool with the fluffy white clouds under the dark gray strip below the otherwise gray sky, but it didn't make for very nice conditions for a soccer game.  It seemed like the winder never stopped.  At one point it caught up the ball of the opposing time and curved it into the goal.  We all, parents and players alike, reacted in surprise, confused as to whether we actually just watched the ball curve around the goal post.  One second it was flying wide, the next it was truly curving mid-air into the goal.

I'm telling you, the wind was against our team.  It was made evidently more clear when it slammed the ball being drop kicked by our keeper across the field into the back of Tyson's head maybe 10' in front of him.  Tyson stumbled forward a little bit, headlong into the field, dizzy and disoriented.  He cried for maybe two seconds, then charged the ball, which was still in play, to get it away from the goal.  This kid is being beaten up this season!  Broken arm, wind knocked out of him last week, ball drop kicked into the back of his head this week.  What's next?!...

Orthodontia x3

And so it begins...

 Tyson wanted to see if you could tell that he'd gotten his expanders, so he smiled his cheesiest smile.  It's a good "Before" picture for the next little while.

 At the right angle, you can see the front metal portion of his upper expander bars under the two teeth that are coming in above the rest.

 The bottom expander does not have a key like the top one does, instead it has a spring.  The blue you see is the cement that will wear off over time.

Above is the same one that Brennon currently has.  The orthodontist said it was one of the smallest that he'd ever had made.  Tyson really does have a small mouth.  He commented that when one of the spacers fell out, it was weird to actually get food stuck in the hole, since he's never had space between teeth.  We're hoping that changes real soon.

He kept asking how he was doing compared to Brennon.  Poor thing kept gagging as he was trying to talk.  I had to remind him that Brennon had had a bottom retainer for a few months before getting the top spacer, whereas he had to get used to top and bottom at the same time.  By the time he was going to bed, after talking and talking to get used to them, he said, "My gag reflex has learned to calm down."  You can barely tell now that he has anything, even though the front of his tongue is littered with sores.  And so it begins for the third of my three boys...

Giant

I was finally able to capture a picture of the size difference between Tyson and the boy that drop kicked the ball that broke his arm in mid-air.  It's no wonder, huh?!  Andrew didn't mean to, could never have imagined it could/would happen, but it's not hard to imagine the speed at which that boy can kick a ball when you see the size of him.  Sadly, Tyson is not so sure he ever wants to play Keeper again.  We'll see what he decides in the Spring.

Side Note: Because there weren't enough boys in the 2009 year, Tyson is "playing up" on a team with mostly boys born in Brennon's year, 2008.  So Tyson is the youngest player on the team, sure, but Andrew is bigger than most 12-year old boys in general.  He's just a big kid.

Dinner

Remember how Brennon is a child that does not like cake, does not like chocolate, does not like most candy, doesn't like doughnuts, and really only has like two or three things that he loves to eat?

Brennon: "Mom, will there ever be a time when we have cow stomach for dinner?"

He tried it once at a Scout activity and has not stopped thinking about it since.  I'm fairly certain he was the only child in the place that actually liked it, let alone dreams of having it again.  My answer to his question:  "Nope."

Miracles

I try not to dwell too long about sad things on days that are hard.  Kimberly once told me that we can give ourselves a time-limited cry sesh to actually feel our sorrow, but then we need to wipe our tears, square our shoulders, and get back to the life we live today.  I have always allowed myself to feel, have always allowed myself to talk, always allowed myself to be raw, so I took this advice to heart and have since given myself time to cry when the need arises, but then work hard to get back to life in the present.  Such was the case on Saturday.

Because Tyson's birthday was on a Sunday, we decided to do our family birthday meal on Saturday.  When he chose McDonald's for their cheeseburgers, which are his favorite food of all time, we decided that we'd do lunch before leaving for Moses Lake, and then grab a little something there again if they were hungry after the game.  Coach said it was going to be a bit cold, because of the wind off the lake, as well as getting darker, so he suggested thermals under his uniform.  We went first to Walmart and then to Target to find the underwear.  I could feel my sorrow coming up to choke me.  Images of Caden's funeral came unbidden at the worst times, and I became more and more grumpy the longer we had to hunt for the clothes.  By the time we made it home for him to change, I was ready to run.

Like always, I shut myself in my closet and sobbed and sobbed.  The one thing that kept coming over and over and over into my mind was the fear I felt as they were closing the casket.  It was like a hammer slamming into me again and again as that remembered emotion came again and again.  It's a scary thing to watch someone else steal something from you forever and ever.  He'd been at the funeral home for 8 days, but I always knew I could go and see his face one more time if I chose.  This woman was taking that away from me-- I would never see him again.  After the hardest emotional month of my life, his funeral day was so very, very hard.  I missed him with a tangible ache that I will never be able to describe.

I woke yesterday and took a deep breath.  The morning after a hard day dawns both kinds of light for me most times, but my heart still hurt from the day before.  Randy and the girls went to a 7:00am youth session with the General Authority, Jorg Klebingat, with the boys and I to follow for the 9:00am session of Stake Conference.  The seats that Randy and the girls had were needed for the choir members, so we sat on the front row, which I don't care for normally, but was super awesome this time.

The opening song, sung by a Youth choir with Shelby in the front row of the Sopranos, was one that had my heart burning, a song that I sang to baby Caden every morning of his first two years: My Heavenly Father Loves Me.  There was approximately 50 kids, but their voices sound like the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square.  I felt such love from my Heavenly Father at that moment.  "I know you're hurting.  I love you."  I felt this again when President Bird stood and starting talking about something that is very dear to my heart: The woman with the blood disease.  As he spoke of each of us reaching out to touch the Master's clothes, I was transported back to March 2016 when I did just that.

"Oh, how I wish I could touch the Master's robe for Caden, to have him feel healed deep inside.  I imagine myself sitting on the ground, cradling Caden, weak from witnessing his suffering.  Through the legs of those strong enough to stand, I watch Him come, hoping I have strength enough to do what I can for my son- my son.  He has almost passed me, and there, there through the crowd is a place I can quickly reach out.  No, please, I have almost missed my chance. And then I feel it, the robe of the Master, barely brushing the tips of my outstretched, reaching fingers.  And I know.

I have faith to accept the Will of the Lord.  I know that He is mindful of us.  I know He loves us.  I know He will give us the Miracle that we need.  However, I still want to reach, with outstretched hands and heart.  Sunday is Fast Sunday.  Please pray for Dr.'s Healy and Riehle (pronounced ree-lee), that they will be inspired and attentive while holding Caden's life in their very hands.  Please pray for our family, both immediate and extended, with strength, peace, and understanding.  But, most of all, please pray for the son I cradle in tired Mother's arms- my first-born Miracle from heaven.  Caden."

  As I thought back on that time, when I was praying for a miracle to cleanse my son, I remember the miracle that did come on March 9, 2016.  Before they began the major part of the surgery, they went into his pelvis area with a camera scope.  They'd seen spots there on the CT, but needed to make sure before going in for the major tumor.  If there were tumors down in his pelvis area, which is an inoperable place, they would have shut everything down and sent us home.  However, there were no tumors as indicated by the CT.  Miracle number one.  Then, when they went to get the 2-pound tumor, they found it was not attached to anything else, that it was once again encapsulated, and that they basically just needed to reach up and pull it out, which was much easier than the last time they resected the 2-pound tumor and 70% of his liver.  Miracle number 2.  Because of this miracle, we were able to keep our Caden for another 19 months.  Had there been tumors in his pelvis, we would have had maybe one more month, since that is how fast it took him when he actually did have tumors in his pelvis, found September 9th, 2017.  Miracle number 3.

As I thought back on this, heart pumping as a personal testimony, I couldn't help but feel absolute gratitude for the miracle of my own Master's clothes.  No, my Caden was not healed of his cancer.  But we did receive a miracle that day, pure and simple.  It was no coincidence that President Bird was prompted to speak about this topic on this day in my life.  It was an incredible talk about how we are each able to reach out each Sunday as we willingly partake of the Sacrament, how we can be healed through the blood of Christ.  But my testimony was made strong within myself as I pondered a time when I likened the scriptures unto myself, and asked in Faith for a miracle.  I have seen the hand of the Lord in my life.  "I know you're hurting.  I love you."  I will never waiver.  I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

Nurse

Because Tyson loves soccer so much, he's always wanting to kick the ball in the backyard.  This is all well and good.... until he kicks it over the fence for the 1,000th time since we moved in.  I'm serious, our neighbor probably curses us each summer.  We decided to get him a collapsible goal that he can kick the ball into, that will stop the ball from going over the fence.  As long as he can kick it where he needs to...

Tyson loves playing soccer with Randy.  Not two seconds after Randy got it all set up, Tyson challenged Randy to a game.  Everything was going along great, and then, POP!  Randy pulled a muscle in his calf.  Shelby came in, solomn, to tell me that "He's fine.  Dad hurt his leg.  He's fine.  He's coming inside.  He's fine."  She was prepped by Randy.  I came into the kitchen to find Tyson and Brennon on either side of Randy as he hobbled to the couch, wincing and sucking in air with every other step. 

Without being asked, Shelby took over as nurse.  With the efficiency of a seasoned veteran, she set a timer for 15 minutes to switch out an ice pack with the heat pad.  She did this for hours.  If Randy asked for something of anyone, Shelby jumped up and raced to get it for him.  As if that weren't enough, she found the head massager and massaged his head between hot/cold switches.  Is she not the cutest thing ever?!  Shelby has always thrived in service.  She always looks for ways to help others, to be the one to serve, to ease others' suffering.  She is, and has always been, an example of "comfort those that stand in need of comfort."

Tyson turns 10!

4th Birthday

 5th Birthday

 6th Birthday

7th Birthday

8th Birthday

 9th Birthday

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TYSON DARWIN DIRKS!!!

The ten years you have been part of our family have been filled with so much.  So much joy, confidence, adventure, whit, intelligence, happiness, laughter, pride, and love.  You make us better.

"Tyson, what do you want for your birthday?"

"First thing: A kiss from you.  Second thing: For Dad to be there.  Third thing: A laptop..."  My heart nearly burst from within me at his first request.

GOAL!

With the need to grab every piece of clothing ever purchased for soccer, in case we needed to change uniform shirts, which has happened before, as well as chairs, blankets, thermals, and wagon for our 4:00pm game in Moses Lake 1.5 hours away, it never crossed my mind to grab Tyson's cast, too.  He doesn't wear it every day, in fact, only ever for soccer, so it just doesn't cross my mind often.  It hasn't been prescribed as such, but I want to err on the side of caution since it's so recently been broken.  Also, he says it still hurts when he claps.  With all of the running, and rushing, and falling that happens at a game, I just want to feel safe.  I remembered the cast the second we pulled into the field parking lot.  I said a quick prayer and sent him out to play.

His coach put him in the position he did best at last week-- Full Back-- with the excuse that it will also give him practice as Keeper, since he'll move back into that position in the Spring.  Honestly, with Tyson in that position, he cut the goals scored on his team by half last game, so I think the coach just wanted another game like that.  We love that he's getting practice in one position, instead of changing each half-time, so that he gets a good understanding before trying a different position.  He really does do well as a defense player, even if he misses being the one that scores all of the goals.

After half-time, during an intense play, the other team kicked with intent of launching it across the field, but instead, it slammed into Tyson's arm, which slammed into his stomach, knocking the wind out of him.  He turned toward his coach, walked a step, and then collapsed to the ground.  My anxiety had been bad all morning, so seeing him fall like that sent me into a quick downward spiral.  Randy actually held me back from running out onto the field.  As I paced the sidelines, boring a hole into the back of coaches head as he knelt over my boy, I kept remembering a time when the same thing happened to Caden.

He was maybe 7 or 8, if my memory is correct.  Someone kicked the ball hard, hitting him directly in the gut.  He walked a step or two, while the ref told him to get back into formation.  With a slight touch on his back, he guided Caden back to his spot.  However, Caden wasn't conscious by this time, so the ref ended up pushing him directly onto his face.  By the time he came to, with Randy, me, both coaches, and the ref surrounding him, I was a mess.

So, here I have a child that looks like Caden, playing a sport Caden loved, getting a ball kicked hard directly at him, crumpled to the ground.  Strike one.  Then I start freaking out that he's probably broken his arm again, since it was a ball kicked at him that broke his arm in mid-air just a few weeks before, all because I'd forgotten his stupid cast.  Strike two.  And now I'm being held back, unable to touch and see him for myself, helpless and freaking out.  Strike three.  I'm done.  I ran to the nearest porta-potty and had a good sob after Tyson was taken to the team's side of the field for a time out, no broken bones, breath back in lungs.  I've never done well when it comes to my children in pain, but this was much, much worse.  I wonder when I'll feel whole in the head again.

I got back to the field in time to see our team score their first goal of the season just one minute before the end of the game.  The parents jumped, and cheered, and screamed, and high-fived as if they'd won the world cup.  As the other team cheered, "WE WON OUR FIRST GAME!!!," we cheered louder, "WE SCORED OUR FIRST GOAL OF THE SEASON!!!!"  We all won yesterday!  All's well that ends well!

Pink?

Tyson, before school: "Mom, do I have pink eye?"

Looking at his eyes, which were "just woke up" glassy eyes, I told him no.  He'd been sniffling and dry coughing for a few days, so I told him he had allergies, to take an allergy pill, and sent him to school.

Tyson, after Soccer Practice:  "Mom, my eyes hurt so bad."

"You've been running all over the field, out in the pollen and outdoors.  Jump in the shower, wash your face with soap, and take another allergy pill."

Not one minute later:  "Mom, I know why my eye hurts.  Look at that big booger in my eye!"

Sure enough-- Pink Eye.  Awesome.

Express Care precautions cannot hide his cuteness!  One drop in each eye every four hours, with lots and lots of hand washing for all of us.  Good thing the kids have a three day weekend...

Strong

When my mind started becoming more and more troubled at the beginning of September, I found myself looking for more and more to do to fill my days, to exhaust myself, to feed the urge to go, go, go.  There was also a desire to change things up within my routine, to make my days different, to add a new challenge, to get out of the house for a different purpose.  I hoped to make myself so physically exhausted each night, that I'd fall asleep fast, and sleep deep through the night.  I have sense found this...

I've been doing more and more research on PTSD after Kimberly sent me that meme a few days ago, and found something that spoke to my soul.  I do not know the author, but I believe the words with all I have in me.

"People often don't realize there's a difference between general anxiety and anxiety associated with PTSD.  For those of us with PTSD, it's not about what might happen, it's about what did.  For us, it's not so much about worrying, it's about remembering."

I did not see these things, read as much as I have, at the beginning of my "switch," so I did the only thing I knew to do-- go back to what helped me right after he died.  I talked out loud to Caden, I made myself do things that were hard, and then I celebrated every little victory.  I talked to myself, whether to encourage myself, or to say, "You did it! You can do hard things."  I celebrated every single little thing that I did, even if it was as little as getting out of bed, getting clothes on, loading the dishwasher when I really did not want to, or even just allowing myself time to cry.  I made micro-goals for myself, and then allowed myself to be proud when I accomplished them, no matter how big or small.  Knowing how much exercise helped me, I decided to join Jamie for a class that I had sworn up and down I would never do.  It was the best thing I could have done.

This class is harder than anything else I have ever done.  I've done hard classes, sure, but this was super hard every day.  Because of the set-up, everyone does the same exercises, lead by a coach, but they work at their own pace, lift what they know they can, and challenge themselves to whatever they feel up to doing for every single thing.  One of the things I have come to realize about myself is, if given the proper notice, I can decided for myself how much I can handle.  The very nature of this class has allowed me to micro-goal every aspect.  It has also armed me with a tool that is revolutionizing my own success, even if the only reason I joined was to help heal my mind.  Orange Theory was joined to be my therapy.

Not needing to lose any weight, for like the first time in my entire life, I told them I was more interested in becoming strong.  When I joined, I was given the opportunity to be part of a Transformation Challenge.  I got a body scan on Day 1, with another scan scheduled at 4 weeks, and the last one at 8 weeks.  I didn't think too much about it, until I got the first results of that scan.  I actually found out that I was in a category that I'd never heard of before: Skinny Fat.  I was shocked to hear her tell me that my Percent Body Fat was slightly obese.  As I read over these results, googling those things I didn't quite understand, I started to make goals to improve these numbers that are never seen with a simple bathroom scale.  I was armed and ready for my first month, promising myself that I'd work so hard each day that I would come away from each class knowing I had done better than I had done the day before.  I pushed myself to run faster, endure longer, row more accurately, and lift more weight as soon as I could possibly manage it.  It was so good for my mind, my body, and my emotions as I worked so hard every day.

Yesterday was my first scan.  I say that it was never about losing weight, but I did weigh myself before going in for the scan.  If I was only to look at the bathroom scale numbers, I would have been discouraged.  After burning an average of 600 calories for 19 workouts, I had only lost 2 pounds.  Then came the results of the scan:

Dry Lean Mass: +.7 pounds
Body Fat Mass: -6.5 pounds
Weight: -4 pounds
Skeletal Muscle Mass (Muscle attached to bone): +1.8
Percentage Body Fat: -4.1%
Lean Body Mass: +2.4 pounds

Segmental Lean Analysis, with 100% meaning sufficient for my body frame:

Left Arm: 87.7% up to 98.1%
Right Arm: 91.3% up to 98.4%
Trunk: 93.3% up to 99.1%
Left Leg: 98.7% up to 100.0%
Right Leg: 99.5% up to 100.6%

I cannot wait for the last scan, and beyond.

One of the things that makes the class work is the 5-zone heart rate monitoring.  Gray is sitting, Blue is walking, Green is brisk walking, Orange is making yourself uncomfortable, with Red being and all out, emptying the tank.  Randy used this as a metaphor for our lives.  We go through much of our lives in the bottom three levels, occasionally getting up to the green.  But it is the Orange and Red zones that help us achieve more, help us to grow, give us the challenges that strengthen us and make us better.

September is my Red zone.  Many of my workouts were worked to the point of being dizzy and seeing stars, always looking up to see I was in the Red zone above 100%.  I felt proud of myself for surviving, and always allowed myself a solid victory as I brought my heart rate down into the Green zone for an active recovery, taking that deep breath that centers you to begin again.

October 4th has come and gone.  While I am not 100%, I have felt that "switch" back to normal.  I can't explain it, but I know I am coming back to myself.  I survived.  I am able to take more deep breaths.  I look back on my September, grateful it is done, learning for myself how much I can be pushed, learning how strong I truly am, learning that that is how it's going to be for a while.  I'm still in the Red, but feel myself steadily coming down so that soon I will be in the Orange, and then back to my Green, where I can run and run and run.  Orange Theory has given me much to think about, much to ponder, and much to celebrate.  I am becoming Strong, even if it hurts so, so much in my Red.

Hot mess

12:30pm, phone call from Libby Middle School:  "Shelby just passed out in choir.  She got a bit banged up.  We were wondering if you could come and get her."

I walked into a bandaged chin, glassy eyes, and a tear-stained cheek cutie.  It was too hot in the room as her teacher asked her to use more diaphragm space to open her airways. 

"I don't remember much from before, but I remember waking up to pain in my chin and arm."

The nurses were more concerned than I was with the fact that she was pale, yet was sweating profusely. 

"That's exactly what happens to me.  When I wake up, the first thing I do is lift my hair from my neck and start fanning furiously to get my temperature down."

As one that's passed out her fair share whenever I'm too hot, I know she'll get used to it, and be able to recognize situations before she wakes on the floor, pale, sweating, and disoriented.  Shelby and I give new meaning to "hot mess."

First Game

 Tyson was able to play his first game of the season yesterday, and he couldn't have been more excited!

 He chose Number 15, in memory of Caden, born on May 15th.

 I had him play with his cast as a precaution.  He doesn't wear it during the day, but I'm not going to take any chances during his games.  He said he wouldn't want to play without it, which doesn't surprise me in the least.

Coach Tyson (which makes for some fun conversations) to our Tyson: "Tyson, I just want you to know that it was because of you that we played our best game today.  Thank you for bringing your energy and talent.  You're a natural."

I couldn't agree more.

Funny Story: Friday evening, Coach Tyson called me.  "I see that you have Tyson scheduled to play on Saturday, is that correct?"
"Yes, as long as it's allowed that he wear his cast."
"Yes.  I see that you do not have him scheduled for the Sunday, October 13th game, is that correct?"
"That's correct.  We don't play on Sundays."
"Can I ask you a question?  We scheduled that game specifically to be after church, so I was wondering why he couldn't play."
"It's not that it would have interfered with our church attendance, only that we do not do anything on Sunday."
"Well, I know you to do other things on Sunday, so I was just wondering where you draw the line."

This confused me.  I've only met this man through soccer, and not outside of soccer at all.

"What do you mean we've done other things on Sunday?  What have we done?"
"Well, you came to Talon's birthday party."  Talon is HIS son.
"That was on a Saturday."
"No, it was on Sunday."
"No, it was on Saturday.  If it had been on a Sunday, we wouldn't have come."
"Oh, that's right, it was on a Saturday.  That's right."

I had to inwardly giggle-- I was arguing with him about which day his own son's birthday had been celebrated.  He went on to tell me he respected our choice, and that they have had times where they didn't do something because of their own beliefs.  It made me feel better, even though I wasn't really feeling bad about our decision not to play games on Sunday.  It's my personality to want to please people, even though I really don't care what they think of our religious abstentions.  It was nice to know that I hadn't made him upset, if that makes any sense.  He's a good guy and coach, even if we've heard him bad-mouthed by the sideline parents the last few games.  I want to question them-- Have any of you volunteered to be his assistant?  No?  Then keep those comments to yourself and be grateful you're on this side of the field!

Deer!!

Remember this post?  My parents had come up to celebrate Tyson's birthday and Randy advancing in the Priesthood, so my Mom bought some flowers for Caden's grave.  The next day we went back to add water to the vase and found some of the tops "ripped" off.  Well, I'm happy to announce, that after a year of wondering without thinking about it since that day, we now know what really happened to those flowers.

Jamie:  "As we pulled up, I noticed a family of four deer, three adults and one baby.  Excited, I pointed them out to Cameron.  Then I realized what they were doing.  Stephanie, they were eating the flowers!"

When I went this afternoon to just sit at his grave, I noticed the exact grave those deer had feasted at.  And like ours, they'd picked through and eaten the ones the liked, leaving a few here and there as proof that there once was a bouquet.  I giggled and thought, "Caden would have thought that was funny.  I bet he's laughing right along with me."  Randy and I both agree that Caden wouldn't have minded.

I knew the second that I saw the flowers on his grave that it had been the Burch's that had delivered them.  Jamie's face says it all-- This gravesite, while beautiful and in a beautiful place, gets you right in the heart and makes you weep.  I cannot believe it's been two years.  This anniversary hurt more, maybe, than the first few days after his passing and definitely more than last year.  I believe it because of the pain, even though it still feels so surreal that my child has died!  There are times it hurts so much, I almost wonder if I've somehow forgotten and the remembering has gutted me all over again.  How can this be my life?  How can I still breath with all of this pain?

Seneca

"Light griefs are loquacious.  Great ones are dumb."

~ Lucius Annaeus Seneca

 Left last night for me to see first thing this morning.

Delivered throughout the day, as well as many texts and phone calls.

 Ice cream sandwiches and shared memories and stories.  It was cathartic, even if it hurt so, so much, the remembering.  

It was a perfect weather night.

 She walked up to his grave and put the skids on.  She wouldn't move from this spot until we got up to leave.

But not before she snuggled her true Master.  After more than six months, she had another Shoe Day this week, which was bittersweet.

I can't say more.  It hurts too much.  I love you, Caden.