He said YES!

We also got this view because Randy was outside helping the boys with the leaves when he arrived.  Poor kid didn't even do all that he had wanted to do because the whole world was watching him.  How nervous he must have been having the entire family there.  He wanted to play "Heck Yeah" by Usher while holding up the sign.  He settled for being completely adorable just waiting for her.

He helped her bring in the poster, two 6-packs of soda, and Circus animal crackers (that are an inside joke between a few of their friends).  As he was walking out, he turned and looked her in the eye, and said, "Thank you for asking me," and then blushed as he walked out the door.  I cannot wait for March 14th!

Her dress arrived last night as well, but it's just too big.  We measured her and thought it would work, but it's just too big.  We found another dress, to be delivered on Saturday.  Sure hope that one works!

Literal interpretations

As I was driving Keilie home from delivering the basket to her friend on Tuesday night I asked her what she was doing for Youth Activities the next night.  Now, I'm a very literal person, so when she told me she was doing a Blindfold Bob Ross night, I took that to mean something very different.  So imagine my utter shock when she came home with this...

I was thinking, "Oh my gosh, that girl has got to be the most talented girl ever!!  She painted that blindfolded?!  I couldn't even paint that with my eyes open and six weeks of intense paint classes!!"

She saw the shock on my face and was confused.  She looked at me, the painting, at me, then the painting again.  Then she realized what was going on.  "Mom, we weren't actually blindfolded, we just couldn't see what he was painting, we could only listen."

For the record: I still think she's got some mad skills!  Her literal blindfolded painting would probably look like my absolute best effort all. day. long.

Special Delivery

Yesterday was a night of delivery for us-- Happy deliveries, all!!

First, the delivery of the news Brennon had been anxiously waiting for...

And second, the delivery that Keilie not-so anxiously delivered...

Carter Cleaves

{She also got him a SMOOTHie, and silky SMOOTH chocolate truffles.}

Her friends had already asked and tried to convince her to go, but she's been struggling emotionally with her grief and was too overwhelmed, so she said she wasn't going to go.  She'd had some pretty relentless begging from one friend, but she kept to her guns until she heard that a really good friend was hoping that she'd ask him.  She came home on Monday afternoon, announced that she was going to ask him, and we ran out to get the posterboard immediately between support group appointments and soccer.

It took her less than an hour for her to whip this thing out.  "I'm getting better at these."

It has been so nice to see Keilie excited about something.  She's really been struggling, hence the counseling we got her in to.  It's hard to wish you could take your child's pain away, and harder still to realize that you're drowning already and cannot even begin to help someone else, even if it is your own daughter.  Sad that I felt so strong for one child's fight, and feel I have nothing left to give for the other kids in their current fight.  I am well and truly scared that I am honestly not currently, or going to be, enough for what they need.

I felt my anxiety spike when she told me that the dance was next Saturday and that the theme is Red Carpet and she needs a dress.  Homecoming had been stressful trying to find a dress that could be delivered quickly, and that had been more time than just 13 days.  It was stressful for about an hour and then turned to relief when she found a dress she liked, in her size and color choice, that would be delivered by Thursday.  While her choice of shoes are not what I would have picked-- by a long shot-- it was fun to get her what she wanted, knowing it would all arrive before the dance.  I can handle stress that is for a fun purpose, I guess, even though I had to go to bed early...

And of course, our last delivery of the night was made to Keilie's friend.  It was a great night for the Dirks!!  Special Delivery...

Sunshine

As I was lying in bed under 15 bazillion blankets, trying to get warm after a day of chill despite thermal layers, Keilie came into my room with a worried look on her face.  A friend was in a very dark place, and Keilie was scared for her.  "Mom, I think I need to do something.  Now."  Cold forgotten, we braved the wind together to help bring a box of sunshine to a friend in need.

While I love the friend that we shopped with abandon for, finding everything we could that was yellow, including a big Easter Ducky, I didn't do it for her.  As we added more and more and more into the basket, I didn't care what it would mean to her friend as much as what it meant to Keilie to be able to give it.  My heart was so full to recognize that when Keilie was scared, the first thing she did was to come to me for help and support.  I'll buy 1,000 baskets for friends if it helps Keilie realize that I'm there for her, and for the people she loves.  She is my sunshine.

Royalties

Brennon came home last week saying that everyone else had gotten their art back from the library, but that Mr. Boynton was waiting for something for his, maybe a frame or something.  I didn't think much of it until he came bursting through the door today.

"Mom, someone wants to buy my art!!!"

Taped to the back of his artwork, I found this letter:

This boy, at 11-years old (when it was drawn, not his current age of 2 days), has people asking if they can pay him for his first-ever drawing.  AWESOME!!!  I am so proud of my Brennon!!!

Leap Day-- oh, yeah!!!

Brennon began his birthday weekend with a campout with the Young Men.  Because Randy went, Tyson got to tag along.  This meant that the girls and I, and their friends Ellie and Liz, got to go to dinner at Costa Vida and come home to watch Frozen II with all the good snacks.  All was going according to plan until both Brennon and Tyson realized that the rowdy boys had no plans of going to sleep, so they packed up and headed for home, arriving at 12:30 am.  Tyson was overjoyed that he was the first to wish Brennon a Happy Birthday as they headed upstairs to their quiet room and comfortable beds.

Because I didn't know they were home, I slept in... until 10:00am.  Randy and I had a workout planned, and then Brennon's birthday party could begin.  We showered and rushed to Brennon's all-time favorite place to eat: Denny's.  Because they take forever and a day, no matter what time we go, we have actually banned that place unless it's for a special occasion.  The reason he loves it?  Chocolate chip pancakes.  He didn't even want the sides that came with his meal, just the pancakes.  Apparently, these pancakes are worth the wait, both once-a-year birthday and simply being at Denny's, to begin with.

[Remember when Keilie said she could eat the whole bowl of grapes, and you told her not to?  Remember how she did it anyway, sneaky-like, just to be funny?  Remember, also, how she couldn't chew, so she spit the grapes and a whole bunch of spit back into the bowl as you worked hard not to gag?  Oh, yeah, and remember how she ate the spit-soaked drowning grapes while you plugged your ears, closed your eyes, and swallowed the gag-fest down?  Yeah, good times.]

After lunch, we dropped the kids off and took Brennon shopping.  We'd purchased him a gift that he said he wished he would have gotten for Christmas, but when we asked him again this week what he wanted, that was not one of the things he said.  So we took him shopping, and I took the weighted blanket for myself.  Win-Win.

He came home to play with his new toy, and Tyson, while I got his cake together.  The only thing he cared about was that it was chocolate chip cookies.  He didn't care that I didn't have the correct cake pan to make one big cookie, he just cared that his cake was made of chocolate chip cookies.  So I made them with pleasure!

 I thought I'd be funny by taking the "3" candle.  He loved it!  This kid is so easy to please!

 When the family went with Ashlee and Russ's family a few weeks ago, Brennon made up his mind that he wanted to go to Chuck E Cheeses for his party, that he wanted to do 2-hours of unlimited play, and that he wanted to invite all of his Youth friends, as well as his two best friends from school.  Done!

 Cooper Hinkle, Issac Hammond, Hayden Long, Bent Larsen, Kaden and Spencer Randall, Josh Graves, Camdon Gibb, and Roman Cleaves.  Awesome!!

 They arrived at 5:30, immediately started eating their pizza, sang at 5:45, and then were set loose.  As soon as they swiped their card for the very first time, the two-hour clock started.

 9 minutes in, and Tyson come to me looking like this.

 The package included 30 seconds in the ticket wind tunnel.

 He was told to kick around the tickets to get them to fly up.  Because of his Figure-Ground Auditory Processing Disorder, he heard Pick up the tickets, which is not allowed.  We asked our host if we needed to start over, that he can't hear things properly, to which she replied, "No, we'll just take a few of the tickets from him."  I think she probably only took about 15-20.

 Look at the pile he's holding close to his chest.  I watched 10 other people in this tunnel, all of which came away with maybe 15-20 tickets if they were lucky.  He got more than 3,000 tickets...  When I asked her if we needed to give more back, apologizing for his misunderstanding, she said, "They're only tickets.  Don't worry!"

Brennon and Tyson combined their tickets, as well as the gift of Isaac Hammond's tickets, to have a combined ticket total of 9,100.  The picture above is just another sample, not the entire 9,100.  Notice the child in the background to get an idea of how large this haul was.  Insane!!!

It seemed that every single person in the tri-cities had come to redeem their tickets, so even though we'd given an extra 30 minutes to our party to take care of prizes, some were in line for another hour.  What a nightmare.  But every kid was given time to choose what they wanted, without once feeling impatience rolling off of the three teenage employees as they took their sweet time.  I thought that was pretty cool.

We came home to have Brennon open his gifts, and head straight to bed.  As he was ascending the stairs, he said to Tyson, "This was the best birthday I have ever had."  It just doesn't get any better than that as a parent.

Happy Birthday to the sweetest, most thoughtful, most helpful, most caring, most tender-hearted, most generous, most valiant, most courageous Brennon.  Not many can say they have a 3-year old with a 6th-grade reading level!  You bring peace and joy and pride into our home, family, and hearts.  Love you, B-Boy!

Time(s) tables

I can't remember if I've written about this, but I absolutely don't want to forget it, so I'm going to post about it now.

Numbers have always been a big part of my life.  I like numbers.  I'm fairly certain it can be traced back to my days in Elementary where I competed in Krypto contests and felt great satisfaction to win most.

When Caden was born, I loved that his numerical date of 05/15/01 had two fives, ones, and zeros.  When Keilie was born, I was a little sad that her numerical birthday could not be 8/24/03 (eight goes into 24 three times).  I love that the first four kids' birthdays go in order down a calendar-- 15,22,29,29.  I love that the first four homes we ever purchased had a 2 in the address and that the first 7 homes we lived in also had a 2.  I just love the way numbers fit into the world in such quirky ways.

Tyson for the past few months has been following in my footsteps, even though we've never had a conversation about my numbers quirkiness.  At random times he'll look at the clock and announce that it's 12:34, or 11:11, or my personal favorite where he turns the numbers into number problems.  The second he got into the car today before he'd even truly sat all the way down, he spoke out, "2 minus 2 equals zero."  It was 2:20.

I love that we share this quirkiness!  I find it very endearing.

Benchmark

Because my mind is so fragile right now, I decided that I wasn't going to go to an Orange Theory class that I had been looking forward to for weeks: the 12-minute benchmark.  I have been working so hard to get my speeds up, and I have a very real way to track that progress through these benchmarks.  About 2-weeks after joining, I was able to record my base benchmark, so I was going to be able to visibly see my results.  However, because I wanted it so bad, I was afraid to ruin it with my fragile mind.  What if I told myself to go slower than I normally do, or wanted to go?  What if I cried during the running, which would make me need to leave?  What if I didn't hit my goal distance, how would that affect me?  It was causing me too much stress, so I eliminated the stress all-together.  In fact, I canceled for an entire week.  I cannot handle stress.

When I woke yesterday, I told myself that if I felt up for it, try running outside.  So I did.  I finished my lunch, felt a surge of motivation, laced up my sneaks, and rushed before I changed my mind.  I knew that I might not get my distance because running outside can be more difficult than running on the treadmill, but I told myself to just see what I could do.  As my 12-minute time went off, I hesitantly looked at my distance, and did a little jump-- I'd beaten the distance I'd hope to get, and kept running!

I gave myself one last goal: run for two miles.  We'd run 1-mile a few Saturday's ago, where I also beat my own record, so I wanted to break another record of running 2-miles outside for the first time.  I did it all at my own pace, on my own time, without any expectations or pressure.  It felt amazing.  I'm so happy to see progress in my strength and endurance, and happy to know that I can do hard things, even when my mind is fragile.

Serve

Brennon Wayne Dirks

During Jackie and Darwin's party, Brennon asked if he could do the dishes.  He'd go out and ask if he could take their plate, then come in and rinse them off.  His sleeves were rolled up from the moment he finished his food to the locking up of the clubhouse.

Of staying after to help Mr. Boynton clean up after Art club, "I just want to help him out.  He told me he'd bring me some candy the next day, as a thank you, but I told him that I didn't need any candy, that I just wanted to help."

Of being asked if he'd like to vacuum out Dick and Jane's car for money, "I am going to do it for free, I don't want the money.  I just want to help."

Saturday, as Randy and I are tidying up the garage, "I prayed last night that I would be able to help someone today.  This is an answer to my prayer!"

Brennon is the first to help in whatever situation he's in.  He never complains about helping, many times doing things without someone needing to ask.  He always looks outward for the one he can help, the spirit he could lift, the situation he could make easier.  Some may be tempted to say, "You're doing something right with that kid," but I'm here to tell you, this is all Brennon!  He's the one that immediately rushed to hug his Kindergarten teacher when her guitar string broke during singing time, the one whose teachers have all told me stories, many through tears, of his reaching out to kids that need friends or a kind word, the boy that prayed for months, "Please let us 'Have Courage and Be Kind.'"  He may be raised in a home that encourages kindness and helpfulness, but he's taken it to his own Brennon-level.  I'm the luckiest girl in the world.

I dreamed a dream...

Dreams have always been kind of a big deal for me.  I remember a few dreams from my early childhood that had a huge impact on me, as well as dreams from my adolescence that still give me an uneasy feeling.  I've had dreams where I walked, ran, and screamed myself awake.  My favorite was the dream where I stood up on my bed, stepped on Randy, and then broke our ceiling fan as I fell off the bed because he rolled me off of him.  Good times.  Last night's dream was unlike any other but has left me with all the feelings.

I have been struggling since returning from Utah.  I was not exactly sure what it was or what I was feeling, but I was struggling a little bit each day.  I was still keeping up on things, even adding a little bit of work for Randy and Spencer for www.momdot.com, but I was doing the bare minimum if I could get away with it.  I wasn't as worried about my mental state as I had been in August for the upcoming September, but I could feel a slight tug of depression-like symptoms.  And then Valentine's Day hit.

I've held off writing about it (and everything else as you can see!) because my emotions are too fragile.  It wasn't the act of actually typing the story out, but ALL the emotion this incident brought into my mind and heart.  That weekend, starting the 13th at about 1:00pm has quite literally pushed me over the edge.  Since, I've spent a lot of time researching counselors for my girls to go to, as well as a teen support group for Keilie.  As I was filling out the necessary paperwork, I could feel my own anxieties rising to levels that they spiked to during the month of September.  It was as if I went from August to mid-September in 30-minute's time.  I knew immediately that it wasn't only my girls that needed help.

Yesterday, while waiting with both girls to meet the person I hope can help them, I was in charge of all the paperwork.  I've noticed a fog in my concentration and thinking over the last few days, but was quite literally scared for myself when I sat there staring at one question and not being able to even begin answering it: Death Date.  I couldn't remember.  I couldn't even get my mind to start remembering.  I just sat there staring at the paper, knowing it should be so easy, but not even being able to even begin really thinking.  The date that is the reason for us to be at that appointment in the first place, the date that feels as if it is burned on my skin as well as my heart, I just could not remember.  So many emotions were flooding my mind, I truly was drowning in my emotions. 

Randy left for an appointment early, early this morning.  After kissing him goodbye and telling him to be safe, I (thankfully) fell back asleep.  Not two hours later I jolted upright, certain I'd just been given a gift from Heavenly Father.  In the dream, I was watching myself as if I was watching a movie.  We were on our way down to Utah for Jackie and Darwin's 50th anniversary.  I had agonized for weeks that we'd miss it because of all of the storms that were popping up the entire drive, so I was recognizing those emotions as I'd felt them.  It was like I was processing that drive-- it was cool.  "Yep, you were anxious about making it-- write that down."  Then I saw myself doing something that I knew at the moment was hard, but didn't quite realize what it was doing to me subconsciously: compiling memories and emailing them to my cousin that is dying of cancer.  I felt the jolt of recognition from the dream in the real and bolted upright in bed.  I had my answer-- writing the memories dredged up some painful emotions that I had not fully processed-- that's why I'd been struggling since Utah.

As I lay back down with a prayer of gratitude in my heart, I couldn't help but reflect on my dreams and how they have shaped me.  While the knowledge from this dream didn't take away the work I have to do to process all of this, it helped me know where to begin.  Because of the emotions of fear, devastation, hesitation, hope, cynicism, and confusion that filling out paperwork this last week have filled me with, it has become glaringly obvious that I need professional help.  I'm a mess.  I'm not doing as well as I thought.  It's not enough to exercise myself to exhaustion, to put on a smile and "fake it till you make it," to wake each day with dread, thinking, "be present for everyone, all the time, no matter where you are" and go to bed thinking, "I'm so glad this day is over, you survived."  I'm back to fantasizing I am Sleeping Beauty, and someone has placed the world in sleep mode until I wake.  Only it's not a kiss that will wake me, but a timer that dings when my brain is healed and ready (much like a Thanksgiving turkey), and everyone else wakes with me, none the wiser that I took all the time I needed without feeling the guilt of letting everyone down, taking too long, and not having enough in me to help others because I don't have enough in me to help myself.

At the very beginning of February 13th, the start of a weekend I didn't think could get any worse but did, Keilie said, among many, many other things,  "I hate how cancer has changed us.  You used to ask us about how our day was when we got home from school, but now you just tell us to get our stuff done so we can have free time."  That was when I realized that my kids are not blind to my situation, they see that I'm barely surviving each day.  I see their homework as stress, which I simply cannot handle right now, so I tell them to get it done so I don't have to feel the stress.  I kid you not when I picked up Tyson after school yesterday I asked him how his day had been.  "You never ask me that.  Why are you asking me that?  What's going on?"  The oldest (living) and the youngest said basically the exact same thing one week apart, and it breaks my heart.

I started to notice that I was coming back to {myself} after October 4th (I did not have to look at a calendar just now), so I mistakenly thought I was done with all the emotions until September.  Not so.  My veneer is cracking, my mortar is crumbling, my makeup is smearing as I cry tears that I didn't want to show as I forced myself to survive because I couldn't be Sleeping Beauty.  This hurt is so painful.  I miss Caden so, so much.  I am not suicidal, but I absolutely crave the fantastic release of my entire family waking up tomorrow in heaven, together, happy, and free from this pain.  I so hope that when my children look back on this time they know that I tried my hardest every day, did the best that I could, and loved them so much that my broken heart hurt even more because of the swelling.

Cords that bind

We had a Family Home Evening tonight where I likened dental floss to the flaxen cord Satan uses to bind us with.  I asked the kids if they thought ten was a lot, if they thought they could break it, to which they all said yes.  Then I asked them if it would be as easy for them to break 20, and they all said no.  We told them to break the chain when it was few, and not allow Satan's whisperings to bind us.

We then got the dental floss.  Randy didn't want to use too much, so he wound it just four times around Keilie's wrists.  On the count of three, she yanked... and ended up slicing slightly through her wrists.  I didn't realize that she wasn't having it placed on her sweatshirt.  We were all surprised that she couldn't do just four binds.  Tyson being Tyson, he decided that he would try four as well.  I made him get a sweatshirt on (because he didn't have any shirt on) and held back my discouraging words about how Keilie couldn't, blah, blah, blah.  Everyone tried, with Keilie coming back to try 2 and then three.  She could do three, but could not do four.  It ended up being the best object lesson.

They all thought they could do ten, that ten didn't sound like too many, but none could break more than three.  We likened each rotation of the floss around their wrists to tiny deceits that Satan uses, and how he tells us that we don't need to worry about them.  And we talked about how we need the cutting scissor-power of the Atonement to cut the chains that take us from three rotations to four, a number that only Randy could break.  They all wanted to see how many rotations Randy could do, but we ran out of floss.

I love these times where we can discuss something spiritual with the teenagers that give us a bit of kick-back, which turns into something fun where they learn a valuable lesson.  They'll never forget the time they cut their skin to prove a point: We need the Savior for more reasons that one.

Progress Report

Down 30 pounds and 5" from the waistline in 3 months.  He inspires me.

Pillow

While playing games as a family tonight, Mira, like me, wanted to be lazy and lie down while we played.  She found the most comfortable headrest.  She wanted to know what the allure was because she is used as a pillow daily.  I think she's converted.  We love this creature.

With Love,

"We know you might miss breakfast sometimes for meetings..."
"Tyson, you really are a smarty with love."
"We are filled with gratitude for you!"
"Thank you for your sweet service!"
"You make Hillview Ward sparkle."
"Brother Dirks, you're doing a bang up job!"
"I hope you note that we LOVE YOU!"
"Brennon, we hope your valentine's day is sweet and super sour."
"Keilie, I love you."
"Shelby, Happy Valentine's Day.  Hope it's a great one!!"

These are the sweet Valentines we received from amazing friends!  We are the luckiest people in the world!

Progress

Randy has been working hard these last few weeks and months to reverse the effects of the last few years of stress and sorrow.  While scrolling through my pictures a few days ago, I noticed the pictures we'd taken on Caden's anniversary and couldn't believe the changes that were so evident in his weight loss.  I've noticed, obviously, but it's been day-by-day.  When looking back at the "beginning," it's much easier to see the changes in a more monumental way.  So, knowing my love of before and after, we loaded up in the car on Sunday to go out and try to recreate the picture. 

It was super cold and windy, so we told the kids to wait in the car while we staged everything.  Once I felt that I was in the exact spot I'd been before, we pulled them out and quickly took two or three, and then scurried back into the car.  We were almost out of the cemetery when I told Randy that I wanted to go back and try a few different angles, just him, so we did.  He doesn't have a smile, because he didn't know I was taking like 50 as I walked around him slowly (we even got a few with his tongue sticking out as he licked his lips!), but I feel that we got the perfect pose for this "during."

I love hearing him talk about how much he's enjoying this.  We talk about our progress, and how much fun it is to actually be able to see our strength increasing.  "Remember my first workout where I couldn't even do one pushup?  Now I can do 30!"  And here...

Monday, February 10th, we both got a personal record during the treadmill block of our workout.

I've wanted him to go to the gym with me for years, but I'm glad he started when it was his choice, his own personal motivation.  I love having him workout next to me, love being able to watch him killing it, glad that he gets to see me killing it too.  It's been a great experience for both of us, both mind and body. 

18 weeks of progress-- not too shabbidy-shab! *Randy has a lot of funny words that he's come up with over the years.  Shabbidy-shab is one of them*

Chances

Tyson had another orthodontic appointment this afternoon.  On a side note: We've been turning his expander since December.  Each time we go in, they always double ask me if we've gotten all of the turns.  Each time I tell them yes, and that I just don't think it's been working properly.  Today he actually told me that we're going to try one more thing before replacing it.  Honestly, I'm just kind of done with this expander.  Remembering to turn it as well as sticking my hands in his mouth nightly is just getting old.  Plus, I want to say, "It's not rocket science, I know how to turn that key.  It's not working, and I'm kind of sick of coming in to be told it might not be working properly."  Oh well.  First world problem.

Every month they have a drawing with tickets they're given each time they meet with the doctor.  Tyson was surprised that he was given tickets today, because the appointment didn't really involve any time in the chair.  He was just told to open up while standing, and then told to do two turns of the key each night.  So when he was given the tickets, he exclaimed, "Yes!  I've been thinking about this, and am glad I get to do it today.  Will you help me write my name on these, T-Y-S-O-N, and then fold them at a 90-degree angle?  The corner will fold up, giving me double the chance of them grabbing my one ticket."  Impressed, I could only stare at his profile as he feverishly wrote his name.  I also giggled that he actually spelled out his name for me to write.

With as full as these get, you need all the help you can get.  So we folded four tickets at a 90-degree angle.  All with T-Y-S-O-N written on them...

Toys

I love that my kids are growing up.  I love that I get to watch them grow up.  But I do really miss those early year stages when practically every single little thing they did made me want to grab them up and smother them in kisses and snuggles.  I find things endearing still, but they're older kid things, not little kid things.  Just one more thing I'm really looking forward to when I am a Grandma: transfering all of my endearing love onto more babes.

I digress.

So when I walked into my bathroom last night to find this...

My heart did a little flip, and I audibly sighed.  Tyson had chosen to take a bath, and found toys to play with while in it.  I wish it was appropriate to gather him up and smother him with hugs and kisses, my double digits ender.  Isn't this the cutest?!

Library Art

Pretty proud of my Brennon tonight.  A couple weeks ago he told me we needed to go to the library between certain days to see his artwork.  I thought it had something to do with the after-school art club that he was attending, but it ended up being the art class that he' had 1st quarter.  I was unprepared for it to be so select-- not everyone had artwork chosen!

I'd seen Brennon sort of copy drawings (not trace, but draw an image he was looking at), which turned out pretty great, but I'd never seen work from him like this.  So when we walked up to his, I couldn't believe that this was his first ever attempt at drawing.  Truly, I've never known him to draw.  He loves to craft, and does a lot of paper craft type things, but that has been the extent of my knowledge of any crafting he's done with paper.  For this to be the first time I've seen his work felt both sad and amazing at the same time.  I hope he continues to expound upon his budding talent.

Alien landscape.

It had been such a long time since he'd seen it, he said he'd kind of forgotten what it looked like.  Tyson, being the brutally honest little brother said, not in a particularly rude tone, "I can tell you're sort of a beginner when you have it next to this one."

It just so happens that this boy is in our ward.

Brennon's reply, "Well, I just think it's cool that something I thought up in my head was something that my teacher actually liked."

If I thought I was proud that his artwork had been chosen, it was nothing to how I felt hearing his response.  He could have taken offense that his brother wasn't gushing, but he didn't, which doesn't surprise me about him at all-- he's my peacemaker/tenderheart.  He knew his wasn't the best one up there, he was absolutely thrilled to even be chosen.

Nailed It!!

I made Strawberry Thumbprint cookies for a Valentine's party we were invited to on Friday night, and loved them enough to make them for dessert for Family Home Evening tonight.  Remembering that I need to give the kids more opportunities to do things with me, to have more time to bond, I asked if anyone wanted to help me.  Tyson and Shelby nearly bowled each other over in their race to the kitchen.

I gave Shelby the task of the dry ingredients, and Tyson the task of the cream ingredients.  However, Shelby was so crazed to be the one that helped the most, she didn't measure out the right amount of flour.  I recognized that the batter was a little softer than the other night, but I just thought it was a difference in the humidity-- Friday was overcast and raining, today was nice and sunny.  However, it became glaringly obvious within the first four minutes of the eleven that these were not going to work out.

Friday's

Sunday's

Not using enough flour is a "Risque" decision.  Gives a whole knew meaning to the popular dessert name that is used way too often: Knock You Naked...  Needless to say, the other batch went straight into the garbage-- no need "heating up" the house anymore.  Anyone know how to get onto the Netflix Original: Nailed It!!?  I think we could keep a "breast" of the competition.

Tears

I recently listened to a talk by Laurel C. Day about Catching the Goodness of Tears.  I have said it before: I'm a stage 4 crier.  I'm known for my tears among adults and Primary kids alike.  As I listened to her talk about tears of sorrow, tears of joy, and tears of the spirit, I couldn't help but think of all the tears I've shed, and how they've shaped me.  I am becoming myself through my tears.

She talked about how many times tears are mentioned in the scriptures, and how "He Lives to Wipe Away My Tears."  I envision my niece, Allyson, drawing my face, drawn up in anguish, tears flowing continuously, with the Savior's pierced hands cupping my streaked cheeks, thumbs wiping away my tears.  It would be a sketch without color, because sometimes our lives in those moment feel as if there is no true joy or sunshine.  Someday, maybe,  I'll commission that of her.  It's a beautiful thought, Him wiping away my tears.  But he doesn't just wipe them away, he catches them in a tear bottle.  Some scholars believe that for the woman that bathed Jesus' feet with her tears, she would have needed a tear bottle.  What trials and sorrow she must have known to have enough tears collected to wash the feet of our Savior.  My tears of sorrow these last six years could feel a large bottle, I'm sure.

We've been commanded to mourn with those that mourn.  Sometimes that may not be as easy to feel completely empathetic, and others it's absolutely natural because we have felt that hurt before.  There are so many different reasons we weep, and one of those happened for me this afternoon.  A dear friend's son unexpectedly passed away in January, and Randy and I attended the funeral.  We didn't know her son, had never met him before, but I cried deep-sorrow tears from the moment I pulled up to the church to hours after we got home.  It hit me many times throughout the night, including times I wiped away tears I didn't even know I was crying.  I cried for his mother, because I know a little about the tears she has, and will cry.  As it neared the time for the funeral to begin, I nearly sobbed knowing she was being forced to close the casket, never to see his face in this life again.  That moment in time still hurts me so, so much.  I mourn deeply with my dear friend, and feel a profound gratitude for those that stood by me (literally and in my heart) while I buried my child.

I have never really thought about being grateful for my ability to cry, but her talk has given me another way to think about my abundance of tears.  I take comfort imagining Jesus weeping with his friends over the man he knew he would soon raise from the dead.  He knew their sorrows would immediately be changed to joy, but He didn't minimize what they were going through right then; He let them cry, and joined them.  He let them feel.  He knew how much it hurts in this life to lose someone to death, but because of his Infinite Atonement, we need not fear that this life is the end.  And that thought makes me want to cry.