Slime Night

Alright, one more major thing was completed last night, so hopefully I can take the time necessary to write about my Book of Alma weekend.  But first, the activity that had me all in a dither: Slime with the Laurels.

Back in September, Jennifer came to me with a request.  "As we were coming up with activities to do, we talked about how much fun it would be to get together at your home and learn to make slime.  Your website was brought up, and we would love for you to teach us how to make slime."  You know me, I can't say no, especially coming from a cute face.  My first thought was to say, "You do realize that I have never made an ounce of slime in my life, right?  I can't stand the feel of it on my hands, nor the mess of it in my home.  Plus, also, that website was made popular because of slime-- that's why Spencer and Randy bought it.  I don't do slime."  Instead I said, "Sure.  When were you thinking?"

It weighed heavily on my mind from the moment we made it back from Camp Zarahemla, gaining near-hyperventilating proportions an hour before the girls were supposed to show up.  I watched Trisha's videos, I read all of Trisha's recipes, and prayed, prayed, prayed.  My angel came in the form of Keilie.  She's been our resident slime expert for years now, so when she offered (at Randy's suggestion) to stay and help, I jumped at the chance.  Little did I know that she would be even more needed as the activity progressed.  If someone was having a problem with theirs, she'd walk around, touch the slime, and then make suggestions to fix it.  She was amazing!!

In my anxiety, I forgot to take pictures of the set up.  Around the table I had red bowls (purchased for my fezzes from last weekend-- I'm still so proud of those!) set out for each of the girls, along with a small cup containing 1/4 of liquid starch.  I also had 6 cans of Barbasol Shaving Cream spaced around the table.

First, each girl poured 1/2 cup of white Elmer's Glue (I bought a gallon and used less than 1/4 of it for 14 girls!) into their bowl.  Next, they came to our counter to add their food coloring and glitter.  It was a blast to watch the girls choose their colors of both.  They asked for suggestions from one another, gave praise for colors chosen, and really thought hard about what they wanted.  **You add the additives (glitter, confetti, beads, etc.) that you'd like directly into the glue, instead of at the end, so that they actually incorporate into the slime.  If you wait to the end, it will not stay in the slime as much**

Once the glitter and coloring were added and stirred, they added 1/2 shaving cream and stirred that around as well.  I was worried that the bowls were actually going to be too small, but Keilie assured me they were just right.  She really was a relief sort of angel throughout the entire night.

 As soon as that was stirred in, they then added 2 Tbsp. liquid starch.  Almost immediately it started to form.  A few swipes of the spoon and they were ready to pick up the glob and start kneading it in their hands.  Even though I had measuring cups, measuring spoons, and scrapers (you know how I love to be exact), some of the girls were a bit more "heaping" than others with their shaving cream.  That was where Keilie's expertise came in quite handy.  If you have too much glue the slime will be too gooey.  If you have too much starch your slime will be rock hard.  We reiterated time and time again to add slowly, slowly if they needed more starch.

 And then we just played.

 And played.

 And played.

And snacked.  I had made some Oatmeal Scotchies and a Raspberry Peach cobbler (I now have all of the cook times perfected and picture ideas so I can post it on Momdot soon) with vanilla ice cream for the occasion. 

I tried to get a picture of all of their slime, but a few girls had taken theirs into the family room...

 For a game of Guesstures.

Jenni Edvalson told the girls we'd have two rounds, since we pulled the game out at 8:00pm.  It was a blast to watch the actor and the guessers.  If I thought 14 girls around a table crafting was loud, it was nothing compared to the screamed guesses, cheers, and laughter.  So. Much. Fun!

And then the night got real when Randy suggested that we have a battle: Sister Edvalson vs. Sister Dirks.  You better believe I put my hair in a ponytail and rolled up my sleeves, bouncing on my toes in a way I never could master at my first (and only) kickboxing class at the gym.  It was cool because my first card pulled to act out said, "ponytail."  I knew I was going to smash it.  And let me just say, never has "cowboy" been acted so expertly, horse and all.

Keilie: "I love the laurels.  They're so much fun.  They talk about the funnest things!"  I couldn't agree more!

1/2 cup White School Glue
Glitter and Food Coloring
1/2 cup shaving cream (not gel)
2 Tbs. liquid starch, + drops at a time if you need to add more.

Because I have SO MUCH of all ingredients, and because they want me to turn in the receipt for the ingredients that now litter an entire kitchen counter,  I sent a text to the Miamaids leader, offering a similar night to them.  They want to!  I'm ready for the next one... because Keilie is actually a Miamaid:)

Math

I have so much to catch up on from this weekend, blogging being one that is not as pressing, so I will just write something small that just happened and get back to my cleaning, unpacking, laundry...

Tyson was sent home a homework booklet as an extra math supplement. *Side note: I love it when teachers do this!!*  He was so excited to get this booklet!  He had the same reaction a few years ago when we got him a book of mazes and similar puzzles.  Honestly, how many kids gets excited to be given extra math books and actually cannot wait to fill them?  Tyson, that's who.  He, himself, said, "Mom, I think I'll do a sheet of this and Xtra Math every morning." The boy was giddy, I kid you not.

After all other morning chores were complete, Tyson just looked at the clock and said, "I have a little time.  I guess I'll just do another page in my math book."  I could only stare at his back.  He's already spent at least 20 minutes on math (he even rechecked his work, wanting to get them all right even though no one is going to grade him on it!), as well as 60 minutes reading this morning, in addition to making his bed, eating breakfast and brushing his teeth, making his lunch, and packing his backpack.  *Another side note: Remember that my kids wake up at Satan's Hour.  They always have hours before school.*  Other kids may want to just veg for a bit, but Tyson wanted to do 4th grade math.

Destination Imagination meetings begin on Friday.  We, and I do mean "we," are super excited!

Fez

Keilie is participating in a skit tonight or tomorrow, where she is in charge of bringing 3 fezzes and 3 mustaches.  I admit, I had to google what a fez is.  It's a hat, in case you didn't know what it was either.

I went to the party store to try and find them, but there was only one available.  Turns out, I wouldn't have wanted to buy them anyway, seeing as they were $15.99 each.  With the purchased mustaches and fezzes from Party City, I would have paid $50.00 for a 3 minute skit prop among many.  So I decided to make them.  I have to say, I'm pretty happy with how they turned out, if I do say so myself.

The most expensive thing about these are the tassels at $2.00/each.  My total...$6.28.  Feels great to save that $44.00, and even greater to love the finished homemade product more than the purchased product (because who wants three fezzes lying around?).  Keilie is worried that they may have too many things in their hands for them to be able to hold the mustaches, so I have tape just in case.  I've thought of everything... I hope.  

Now I am off for a overnight retreat with the Young Women, where we will read and liken the Book of Alma  from the Book of Mormon to our latter-day lives.  I'm not sure exactly what we'll be doing, since I am not a leader in Young Women's (I will be helping prepare food), but I do know that there will be a "Battle with the Bishop."  FUN!

Coming?

That moment your daughter says, "Can we just pray, so I can go to bed?" when her friend (the only one of eight invited) leaves after arriving 1.5 hours late for a 2.5 party that includes pizza, the entire junk aisle from Walmart, sodas, and hot tub/movie.  Sometimes I wonder if cancer care is the only reason that my kids are invited to things.  Keilie had a hard time making friends before Caden's diagnosis, and now is rarely invited to anything and rarely has people show up to her parties.  Granted, she couldn't invite the entire school, since the hot tub only holds 8, but she had friends that said they could come that didn't show up, didn't answer her texts of "Hey, are you still coming tonight?"  Crickets.

Clincher: When Keilie asked her "best friend" if she was coming, that "friend" told her that she "had plans with her friends already."  To her face.

After prayer, Brennon said something about wishing they could have gone trick-or-treating longer.  I had followed Randy's urging, begrudgingly, to allow the kids to show some independence by letting them go alone, but gave them my phone and told them to "check in" with me at 7:00pm.  They interpreted that as "you're done at 7:00."  I thought they came home then because it was so windy and cold.  Tyson, upon finding out they could have gone longer, said he was "disappointed with the night."  Keilie: "Well at least you got to go trick-or-treating."  She could have would have if she wasn't waiting around for friends to show up, who as it turns out, were trick-or-treating themselves.

Halloween didn't turn out how any of us wished that it would have.

UPDATE:
Tyson: "Mom, isn't it weird that more kids came trick-or-treating to our door when we had our lights off than friends came to Keilie's party?  It makes me wonder, why didn't her friends want to come to her party?"

Because Randy was out-of-town, and because I didn't want to have to watch Mira have high anxiety all night from all of the doorbells and knocking, I chose not to hand out candy for the first time in our entire marriage.  Even with all of the lights off out front, and again with all lights off inside, we still had trick-or-treaters come to our door.

Crazy thing: we even had more last night when we didn't want them than we ever had while living on Jason Loop, a circle of 90 homes with minimal walking between front porches.  Still cannot believe how few kids actually went through that neighborhood.  In my opinion, that is a neighborhood of trick-or-treating dreams!  Especially since the neighborhood across the main street is one where bus loads of kids are driven in from poverty-stricken Pasco.

Fair

While helping out at the Book Fair at Shelby's Middle School yesterday, I was approached by the main woman over the Fair, asking my name.  When I told her Stephanie Dirks, she said she knew my name.  "Well, I was also here on Friday, helping you set this up."  "No, no.  Did you have a sick son that went to White Bluffs Elementary?"  And then it hit me-- her name was Yvonne Boyd, the same name of the woman that set up a fundraiser at the very beginning of our cancer journey.  Books, magazines, games, gift cards for food from and around the hospital, hygiene items, even money, you name it, this woman collected it for us.  "I am so glad to finally put a face to the name I have thought about for years.  How is your son?"  I both yearn for and dread that question.  I love talking about Caden, but dread telling people the truth, our reality.

Later, as we were talking of anything and everything, she asked about the grade levels of my kids.  It was far too easy for my liking to say, "I have one in High School, one in Middle School, and two in Elementary."  Immediately my mind revolted, wanting to tell her that I should have two in High School, that Caden would be a Senior.  She must have seen the look on my face, heard the pause in my speech, because she asked which grade Caden would be in, and if he was my oldest.  It's confusing to feel a compulsion to still want to acknowledge that I have another child, yet not want to start up the awkward that is sure to follow.  But, my gosh, I still want to talk about my oldest child.  It feels so wrong to leave him out sometimes, even if it feels ok in that instant to only talk about my living kids.

As a side note: I have now volunteered at both a Middle School and Elementary Book Fair.  Thinking that a Book Fair is a Book Fair, I naively went to Shelby's thinking it was going to be a frantic, fun time like Badger Mountain Elementary's was two years ago.  Boy, was I wrong.  Talk about BORING! 

First, teachers do not bring their kids in to see the books like every teacher is assigned to do at an assigned time in Elementary.  We had an influx before school, with the same teachers bringing their classes in first and second period.  7:30-7:45, 8:00-8:15, 9:15-9:25 had browsing, chattering kids; the rest of the time there was absolutely nothing to do but sit around, watching the clock.  I'm serious, I wished a migraine would strike me in that moment, so I could have a real excuse to leave. 

Second, the kids don't ask for help finding books, they simply browse.  The kids do not look with their eyes, so barely anything was even moved from it's original place.  I found myself missing the loud, excited, hyperactiveness of Elementary, and their vocalized wonder and joy about all the things to see (and not touch, even though they rarely resist).  I even missed the chaos of telling kid after kid that their life savings of forty-two cents was not enough to buy that hardcover Harry Potter Book of Spells.  Middle School Book Fairs are a bit sedate.  And now you know.

Kei-Kei

As I was turning on Pirates of the Caribbean last night, I called up to Keilie to "come down and watch your twin on tv."  She was confused, which brought her down just like I hoped-- family movie nights are my favorite, even if we don't get to finish the show before bedtime.  At the exact moment that Keira Knightly was about to be shown, I said, "Here you come," and Keira opened her eyes from her remembered dream.  Tyson exclaimed, "Oh my gosh, that looks like Keilie's exact face!"  Keilie told me that I should make a side-by-side like I did for Caden and Asa Butterfield's "Ender," so I did.

I was pretty excited to find pictures on my phone that were this close, without having to search our home computer for more exact replicas.  The age difference is apparent in most of them, but there is definitely a resemblance.  And like Caden and Asa, the mannerisms in certain films is what makes the resemblance more pronounced.

I may go on today to find a picture like this one

Because Keilie does this smile, too!  Keira and Keilie.  So fun.

Destination Imagination

For as long as I can remember, Tyson has hold us that he wanted to be a doctor.  With his brain, that boy could be anything.

Last week he was invited to an after-school STEAM program called {Destination Imagination}, because he's in the Hi-Cap program.  (There are five Hi-Cap kids in his class- two got invitations.)  We sat down to watch a few {videos} explaining each of the challenges that are offered from a variety of career fields.  The teams will consist of no more than 7 children, where they will work together to design, strategize, and construct a presentation for judges, to be judged against other teams in their "field."  If they win first prize at Regionals (every team will compete) on March 2nd in Richland, then they move on to State on March 30th in Kennewick.  If they win State, they'll have a chance to compete in the Global Finals May 21-25 in Kansas City.  It's a pretty neat program to challenge the minds of kids just like Tyson.

As I sat down to watch the first video, I thought, "Oh, this is going to be so fun!"  And then I watched the second, and thought, " That's the one he'll choose!"  But then I watched the third, and thought, "Oh my gosh, he'd love that one too!"  It was like that for ALL SEVEN!  I didn't say a single word to him, just waited for him to give his opinions on all so that he was absolutely the one that chose which he'd like best without my opinion tainting his, or him wanting to please me.  It was good practice, because I cannot suggest anything to him about his challenge, I can only ask questions.  All ideas have to come from the kids.

Technical--

• Design and build an aircraft that takes off, flies, and lands.
• Design the aircraft to deliver a team-created payload.
• Create and present a story about one or more characters exploring a remote place.

Scientific--

• Research the human body and medical conditions that affect the human body.
• Create and present a story about a medical mystery that affects a human character.
• Design and build a representation that shows the medical mystery and at least one symptom.
• Present an action or scene that is shown from two or more perspectives at the same time.

Engineering--

• Test the structure by placing weights and then removing them.
• Create and present a story in which the sudden appearance of a monster has surprising results.
• Design and create a special effect to enhance the sudden appearance of the monster and/or the events surrounding the monster in the story.

Fine Arts--

• Create and present a story that integrates research of a team-selected game.
• Create and present a game gizmo that causes an action or event to occur.
• Design and create a container that goes through a transformation.
• Design either the game gizmo or the container to be a technical element.

Improvisational--

• Research historical figures found on coins from around the world.
• Create and present an improvisational skit that includes the historical figures in a tale.
• Integrate an event that has an impact on the tale.
• Present the skit in two parts, changing between comedy and tragedy.

Service Learning--

• Identify, design, and carry out a project that addresses a need in a real community.
• Create and theatrically present a story that builds suspense about characters who attempt an escape.
• Integrate information about the project through clues that help the characters attempt to escape.
• Integrate information about the future of the project.

Early Learning/Rising Stars--

• Explore fiction and nonfiction stories.
• Create and present a story that combines elements of both fiction and nonfiction.
• Design and build a technical device.
• Create an interactive, life-size pop-up book to help tell the story.
• Integrate a randomly selected item into the story.

As he was telling me his favorite ones, I was stunned.  I had been so certain about two of them and could not believe that they were actually his last two picks.  Funny enough, when I told Randy about each challenge, he choose the exact two I had.  Here are Tyson's favorites:

1- Engineering
2- Early Learning/ Rising Stars
3- Fine Arts
4- Service Learning
5- Improvisational
6- Technical
7- Scientific

After asking him why he put them in that order and talking about what he loved about each one, Tyson and I googled, "What does an Engineer do?" and watched a 10-minute video.  Tyson is now thinking he wants to be an Engineer.  I cannot wait to see what he can do in Destination Imagination, throughout his school career, and in life.  He's going to go far with his brain, his determination, and his magnetic personality.

**************
I just remembered that I didn't post about something that happened a few weeks ago.

Before school, Tyson was doing a math program called Xtra Math.  He loves this program, because it has a "beat the teacher" portion that he's won more times than not.  If he can type the answer within 3 seconds, he wins.  His record is 97% wins.  He complained that "he'd have 100% if he could only say the answer instead of type it, because his fingers press the wrong key."  I believe him.

When he was finished with the daily assignment, he mentioned to me that "everyone else in his class was able to do Multiplication and Division at school, but I can only do Addition and Subtraction."  I sat down with him right then and sent an email to his teacher, asking if she could help him access additional resources in Math.  She wrote me back a few hours later, telling me that she had helped him access it, that he was the first in her class to be able to do that, that she wasn't sure why he thought the rest of the class could when he could not, and laughed that he was her first student ever to ask for more access to harder math.

Where other kids want to get out of extra work, my Tyson yearns for more.  I have the whole spectrum in my home right now: Kids that struggle, kids that don't, and one that cannot get enough.  I hope I can do enough for all of them, because each is a struggle all its own.

Worded

I know that the worry that I feel right now is my own personality in overdrive, but I still cannot stop my mind from reaching out for solutions, nor can I stop thoughts of baking this woman a batch of cookies, making her dinner, and offering to watch her kids (if she has any, I don't actually know her) for free for the rest of my life.  I feel mortified and embarrassed.

I got a call on Monday night at 7:30pm, "informing me that my child was marked absent from zero hour.... present a signed note upon returning..." Well, since it was clearly after school, and the class was first thing in the morning, email was the only option I thought I had a my disposal.  Here was my thought process:

Ask Keilie details about what happened from the time she got out of the car.  Give the teacher as many details about the morning, so she would know that Keilie had been there on-time and throughout the entire class, ask if there was anything else I needed to do to help get this taken care of.  I ended the email with a simple, "Steph," super informal, friendly-like.

As I was dropping Keilie off on Tuesday morning, I got the email back from her teacher: Yes I will take care of it

Tuesday night as we were getting ready for bed, I told the kids that they didn't need to wake early, that they all had a dentist appointment at 9:00am.  Keilie was seriously worried, because her zero hour class is one where she needs to let people know if she's going to be absent, because they need someone to cover her shift at the school store.  Being 8:30pm, again without a real good way to let her know, I told Keilie I would explain it all to the teacher in an email.

Tentatively: "Um... please don't."

Confused: "What? Why?  How would I be able to let her know that the shift needs to be covered if I didn't email her?  I don't have her phone number.  I want to give her enough notice to find someone as soon as possible, instead of waiting until the class has actually started."

Tentatively: "Yeah, well she talked with me about how offended she was with your 'strongly worded' email yesterday."

Stunned Confused Flabbergasted: "WHAT?!  I didn't send anything that had strong words.  Keilie, I'm serious!  I let her know what you'd told me, asked if there was anything that I needed to do to help get it taken care of, and ended it with a friendly name."

Worried: "Well, mom, she's kind of a sensitive teacher."

Sensitive?  This woman awakened some very real self-conscious fears in me.  I do not like confrontation.  I do not like making people work because me.  I do not like making others feel bad about themselves, or feel as if they've done something wrong.  I would go out of my way to make others feel heard and welcome and happy, even if it was truly hard for me.  I got the kids into bed and went back to read the email, tears running down my face.  I could not read that email in a way that I felt was strongly worded, but it's because I know the intentions of my heart.

I have worried all day over how this woman thinks of me.  I want her to meet me, so that we can work to be friends.  I don't like knowing that someone doesn't like me, that someone thinks I am mean, that someone could even think that I would send something like that at all.  It was a tiny mistake!  A nothing mistake!  If she would have done something on purpose to hurt Keilie, you better believe there would be words, but this was such a small thing, nothing whatsoever to be upset about, even a tiny bit!   I was so honest and conversational (or so I thought), that I felt as if this woman would read it, feel what I was saying, respond back in kind, and there would be a friendly, easy avenue of communication open between us that I have with the Elementary staff, and beginning with Middle School Staff, and a few different from the High School.  It kills me to know that there is someone at that school that thinks I am like that, that I am one of {those} people.

If there were going to be strong words, it would be because of the ideas she put into Keilie's head about me.  Paraphrasing words: Strongly worded and offended.  I am so in my girls' corner that I will email teachers for a great many different reasons, whether it's to let them in on the fact that her brother died, or died a year ago and would they watch out for her and let me know if they thought it was too much and that I needed to come get her.  Or let them know that we were going last-minute to Hawaii and would they please compile all homework so that she could be prepared when we returned.  Or to let them know that Keilie really liked a certain class, and that I appreciated all their work.  I email them all the time for big things, little things, and nothing things to say thank you.  I am happy, funny, light, and kind.  I appreciate the time and money they take to teach my child, so I frequently just say thank you, you're making a difference, I appreciate you.  They're like my friends, because they take care of and care for my babes.

And now this-- she made Keilie mistrust me just a little bit.  She made Keilie embarrassed for me just a little bit.  She made Keilie look at me as not one that is in her corner, but one to be weary of-- What is she going to email next?!.  I had to prove to her that I didn't do what that teacher told her I did.  It hurt.  I hope I can mend the gap in the bridge with a treat that Keilie will take to her tomorrow.  Because when I emailed her to let her know Keilie would not be at zero hour this morning, her reply was just as curt, with no grammar, punctuation, or friendliness.

I will find someone to cover her shift

Weird to know that a Stephanie in the world is mad at me.  I hope one day that she'll be able to sign her name Steph, that she'll see that signing our name that way is a friendly gesture, one that isn't strongly worded or confrontational at all, friendly.  I inadvertently hurt someone, and I hate it.

Tools

"Mom, if we promise to put away all the tools, can we build a fort?"

They've upgraded to actual tools, instead of just blankets (as in every blanket we own), card tables, broom sticks, and weights.  Super Serious Forts are the only kind we make.

Made

Tyson: "I was made for soccer!"

Tyson waited many games to become goalie, always a bit disappointed when he was passed over.  It was worth the wait, and I think the coach took notice, since he put him in almost every game after.  He learned how much he loves it- think caged panther!- as well as how great he is at it, but also how difficult it is to wait for the ball instead of chasing it all over the field.

 The goal Tyson blocked by catching it!

Tyson with his favorite teammate, Henry.  Both 23!  They made quite the pair-- a Dynamic Duo.  Whenever he and Henry played together, Tyson's energy shot up, his eyes always scanning for his buddy.  They played well together.  We had to stop ourselves from cheering only them on.  We also had to coach Tyson to pass it to others, not just him.  They just naturally gravitated and looked for the other though, so we mostly let it play out.

 "Man, I just need to get in there!" was said during every single off-time.  It was fun to watch him cheer on his time, fun to hear him screaming their names and coaching them from the sidelines.  He's a good teammate, a good sportsman.

Tyson scored the first two goals of the season, the last goal of the season today (the only goal they made today), and the most goals of any on the team this season.  His first season!  With correct guidance, this boy could be great.  I never thought I'd love a sport where I had to sit outside (remember I am a wimp when it comes to the cold!), but I LOVE watching him play!  Like him, I can't wait for the Spring season!  He's seriously good, but it's his enthusiasm and energy that make it so much fun to watch him.  He was made for soccer!

GOOD SEASON, IMPACT!!!

Leaf

Something happened yesterday, something special and wonderful, something that feels sacred.  Remember those moments before Caden passed, the minutes from when I left his room to try to get some sleep?  I walked from the room to throw something away in the kitchen, went to lie down only to toss from one side to the other after only a minute, when I took the largest, most cleansing deep breath.  It was the kind of breath you'd take after nearly drowning, one that fills your entire lung capacity, yet I hadn't done anything particularly athletic or strenuous-- it was 4:30am after a long night, after all.  Moments later, Randy told me that I needed to come into the room, Caden was gone.  And I knew, I knew, Caden had touched me.  His Spirit touched mine in love, releasing so much with that single gentle pressure.  He gave me air as I was drowning.  What happened yesterday was just as special, something I never want to forget.

I thought a lot about my post yesterday, still feeling the weight of belief that I struggle so, so much, in part, because I miss Caden's spirit in my life.  While talking to Randy in our office, I saw a leaf from a plant, given to us by Jackie's best friends from High school (they've stayed very close ever since-- isn't that neat) at Caden's funeral, jump.

There are no air vents near this spot, none of the windows in this room open to allow air flow, there was no fly (or large bug, it was such a big movement) that lifted off or landed on this leaf-- it just jumped and bounced as if it had been pulled at the tip and let go.  Up and down, back and forth, moving the rest of the leaves in the direct circle around it by the motion.

It struck me so odd that the leaf was moving, when all of the sudden Mira started to bark that weird bark that she adopted the last few hours of Caden's life.  It's a very unique bark, one that she did not do the 18 months prior to Caden's passing, starting only the last day, to day and a half, of Caden's life.  It's not a full-on bark, more like a whimper/whine/tiny bark, and only when she was around Caden.  It's an anxious, nervous sound, like she doesn't quite know what to do with herself, can't explain what she feels or sees, doesn't know how to act.  At the exact second I was telling Randy I saw the leaf jump, she started barking.  Randy and I just stared at each other, no words needing to be spoken-- we knew Caden was with us.

It was no coincidence that the very day I write about missing his spirit, this happened.  I like to imagine that he was excited that I'd seen it, so he jumped and cheered and scared Mira.  As tears brimmed my eyes, staring into the knowing beautiful blues of my Mister, I whispered, "Hi, Caden."  And my heart felt joy.  Caden loves me that much.

In some ways, making it to the one-year anniversary felt monumental.  We heard from many different sources that the "year of firsts" was going to be difficult, that we should prepare ourselves as much as possible for the "firsts" that would come very soon.  We've had our first Holiday season without him, our first May 15th without him, our first October 4th without him, so now it can maybe be easier, maybe those days won't be so hard, is what {it} seemed to say.  But the truth is: We made it a whole year with nothing really to show for it.  Our lives without him still stretch out so long.  If I live to be 72, which isn't out of the realm of possibilities, I will have lived the same number of years without my Caden as I had lived my entire life before he died: 36 years.  When I think back on my entire life, that's when it feels like a long time.  My entire life!  That's what I have to look forward to on this side of our "year of firsts:" An entire life without him.  To someone 65, 70, 80+, they'll all tell you 36 is no time at all.  But to me, that's my entire life, and it feels like the longest stretch of time imaginable.  One year down, the rest of my life to go...

Goodbye

While walking around the neighborhood last week, remembering what we were doing this time last year, trying not to let my emotions drown me, I had an idea come to me that has stuck with me the last few days.  Maybe one of the reasons I miss Caden so much, why it still feels like there is an abyss in my life, is that I miss his spirit.

Many people have told me that they could feel of his spirit when he walked by them in school, when he was in their class, or simply when they read about his story-- they didn't know him in person, but he changed their lives and made them choose to do better.  Caden had a powerful spirit, one that was prepared and ready to go Home, that filled every space in our lives.  Having spent so much one-on-one time with him, especially the last year of his life, I think I felt his spirit more than any other person on earth.  There is something to be said about a mother losing the "flesh of her flesh," but I think that a big reason that I still struggle so much, which I know is absolutely normal and expected, is that I miss the spirit that he brought into my life.  He truly was, and still is, a remarkable spirit.

I knew this was going to happen today, but it still hurt walking up to it, seeing the space dug up and empty.  Someone sent me the words of another mother that lost her child.  I was going to use just one portion of it, but I want to save all of the words forever.  I feel them, I understand them, I know them.  And I hate them because they're real, and it really, really hurts.

For Grieving Mothers

by Dr. Joanne Cacciatore

I am a mother.  I am a bereaved mother.  My child died, and this is my reluctant path.  It is not a path of my choice, but it is a path I must walk mindfully and with intention.  It is a journey through the darkest night of my soul and it will take time to wind through the places that scare me.  

Every cell in my body aches and longs to be with my beloved child.  On days when grief is loud, I may be impatient, distracted, frustrated, and unfocused.  I may get angry more easily, or I may seem hopeless.  I will shed many, many, many tears.  I won't smile as often as my old self.  Smiling hurts now.  Most everything hurts some days, even breathing.  But please, just sit beside me.  Say nothing.  Do not offer a cure.  Or a pill, or a word, or a potion.  Witness my suffering and don't turn away form me.  Please be gentle with me.  And I will try to be gentle with me too.

I will not ever "get over" my child's death so please don't urge me down that path.  Even on days when grief is quiescent, when it isn't standing loudly in the foreground, even on days when I am even able to smile again, the pain is just beneath the surface.  There are days when I still feel paralyzed.  My chest feels the sinking weight of my child's absence and, sometimes, I feel as if I will explode from the grief.  Losing my child affects me in so many ways: as a woman, a mother, a human being.  It affects every aspect of me: spiritually, physically, mentally, and emotionally.  There are days when I barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore.

Grief is as personal to me as my fingerprint.  Don't tell me how I should or shouldn't be grieving or that I should or should't "feel better by now."  Don't tell me what's right or wrong.  I'm doing it my way, in my time.  If I am to survive this, I must do what is best for me.  My understanding of life will change and a different meaning of life will slowly evolved.  What I knew to be true or absolute or real or fair about the world has been challenged so I'm finding my way, moment-to-moment, in this new place.  Things that once seemed important to me are barely thoughts any longer.  I notice life's suffering more- hungry children, the homeless and the destitute, a mother's harsh voice toward her young child- or an elderly person struggling with the door.  There are some many thing about the world which I now struggle to understand: Why do children die?  There are some questions, I've learned, which are simply unanswerable.

So please don't tell me that "God has a plan" for me.  This, my friends, is between me and my God.  Those platitudes slip far too easily from the mouths of those who tuck their own child into a safe, warm bed at night: Can you begin to imagine your own child, flesh of your flesh, lying lifeless in a casket, when "goodbye" means you'll never see them on this Earth again?  Grieving mothers- and fathers- and grandparents- and siblings won't wake up one day with everything 'okay' and life back to normal.  I have a new normal now.

As time passes, I may gain gifts, and treasures, and insights but everything gained was too high a cost when compared to what was lost.  Perhaps, one day, when I am very, very old, I will say that time has truly helped to heal my broken heart.  But always remember that not a second of any minute of any hour of any day passes when I am not aware of the presence of my child's absence, no matter how many years lurk over my shoulder, don't forget that I have another one, another child, whose absence, like the sky, is spread over everything as C.S. Lewis said.

My child may have died; but my love- and my motherhood- never will.

Kept

I am a horrible secret keeper sometimes.  I don't mean to be, I just accidentally tell things in a round-about way.  I wanted to keep Brennon's gender a secret until we told Caden (remember how grumpy he was for an entire weekend when he found out Shelby was a girl?!), so I told Kimberly that I couldn't tell her until then.  Then I turned around a few minutes later and said, "Oh, I need to go grab blue balloons."  And then it hit me-- I just told her. without actually telling her.  I don't come right out with the secret, but I seem to accidentally spill the beans more often than not.

A few weeks ago, I was brought into the confidence of a very big secret, one that will change the course of this family's life.  Randy was called to be the second counselor in the Bishopric.  Nothing had been breathed to the ward that this could happen, so it was quite a shock to hear that it would happen, making the fact that I had to keep it secret that much bigger.  In addition, he was called on the Tuesday before General Conference, meaning I had to wait 12 days for it to be revealed.  That is a long time for someone like me to keep my yapper shut!

The second counselor of the Stake Presidency had called to ask if he could speak with both of us, that he'd meet with us separately and together.  Randy said that either of us was being called to a big calling.  I told him that it was him, since President Burrup hadn't called my cell, but doubted my logic when I heard that the second counselor in my Dad's previous Stake Presidency was over Young Women's.  I was sweating bullets for an afternoon after hearing that.  Ultimately, Randy was called, along with another good man, to be counselors to our current Bishop, Bishop Kreutz.

When asking Jamie her opinion of whom could be getting the calling (now that I write this, maybe I was less certain it was for Randy after all), since he'd called Randy and not me, I told Jamie it was going to be difficult to keep the secret.  "Here's the deal, we can't talk about it.  At all.  Not even a little bit.  I will send you a text that says either, 'Randy,' or 'Stephanie,' so you know that one answer, but I will not say anything else, and you can't ask."  She kept her promise, I kept the secret.

Jackie, Darwin, Wayne, Rachelle, and Grandma Fuller all drove up to see Randy ordained to the office of High Priest.  The guise was Tyson's birthday and watching one of his soccer games, the truth was: they came for Randy.  I think Heavenly Father knew it was going to be hard for me not to accidentally tell the secret, so he orchestrated it to happen around Tyson's birthday.  Otherwise, I wouldn't have a good enough excuse as to why we had both sets of parents here for some random weekend.  After all, it would have to be something monumental to have the driving hours that were made to be here, together.

This Week:
2017- Caden's funeral with Tyson's birthday and baptism.
2018- "Tyson's birthday," and Randy's ordination.

One year ago I felt sorry for Tyson, having his brother's funeral the day before his birthday.  This year I feel overjoyed for Tyson, having his dad's ordination the day after his birthday.  Crazy how life can be so different each year.

The question everyone asked as we walked through the halls during church was: Are you ready for this?  I can't help but think it's going to kind of be like cancer care.  You can't really be ready for what you don't have past experience and knowledge about, so you take it a day at a time, ready or not.  It's going to be time consuming, like nothing we've ever known before, but the blessings are going to bring Miracles to our eyes, light to our lives, eternal purpose to our days, and we'll come out better for it on the other side of this beautiful refining.  Randy is going to be an amazing support to Bishop Kreutz, to the Hillview Ward, and, as always, to us.  Ready or not...

Tyson's Day

Tyson had a great day!!  Grandparents and Great-Grandma Fuller came to watch him play soccer.  Tyson was overjoyed that he was chosen to be Goalie while they were here.  He had one seriously good save, one where he actually jumped in the air and saved it with his hands in the nick of time, and many where he kicked it away.  Not one goal was made on him, although many were made against his team in the game.  His team may not have won the game, didn't even score a single goal, but Tyson won as a Goalie this game.

Then we went to Panda Express for his birthday lunch, and came home for Cheesecake and presents.  The family got him a Laser Tag game.  10 batteries later, Tyson was playing with his siblings in the backyard.  I love it when a present is loved as much by siblings as it is by the child you bought it for.  I think it makes the child feel even more special to have a gift that others would love to have.  They've been playing it often, even getting Randy out to play with him.

There are only two things I miss about living in Utah: Family closeness for parties, and the mountains.  I wish we could have more consistent parties like this one, where Grandpa and Grandma Dirks didn't have to drive 14 hours straight, and Grandpa and Grandma Burrell and Grandma-Great Fuller didn't have to drive 10 hours with a stop in Boise.  I'm so grateful they could come to support Tyson. 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TYSON!!!!

Tyson Darwin-- 9!

 HAPPY 9th BIRTHDAY, TYSON!!!!!

To the boy that still tells me he loves me, no matter who is around and who might hear, still snuggles, still kneels down to pray right next to me each night, even if you were across the room, still asks me to tuck him in, still blows me kisses after kissing my cheek, still tells his teacher that hugs from me make him happiest, still astonishes me with his mental capacity, still has the quickest whit and funnest humor: I love you.  You make my heart feel like it's going to burst.  Each time you say, "I love you, mom," as you race your soccer friends on your way to get a drink, or pass me in the halls of school when I volunteer, or even if I simply sit down in the front room, I want to scoop you up and just hold you.  Your mind will get you far in life, your drive will get you farther.  Your humor will draw friends to you, you kindness will keep them close.  I will forever give thanks that I felt so strongly to have a fifth baby and that Heavenly Father sent me you.  You bring so much to this family.  Happy Birthday, Ty!  You are so loved!

 p.s. We measured you today.  You've grown 1.5" since June.  Your body must know how much you wish you were Brennon's twin-- you're catching up to him (and Shelby, since they're only .25" apart) fast!