Perspective

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

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

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

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

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

"What Does Your Mom Cook Best?"         Hot Pockets

Arrow of Light

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brennon Dirks & Sean Porter

So proud of my Brennon!!

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

Brother & Sister Anderson: Sweden

Sister Crosier: Thailand

Sister Nelson: Philippines

Brother & Sister Larsen Sr.: Japan

Brother Larsen: Spain

Brother Kraus: Mexico

Brother Schlesser: Germany

Brother & Sister Taylor: Slavonia

Brother & Sister Bowen: Turkey

Brother Brimacombe: France

Sister Randall: Africa
Brother Edvalson: Argentina

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

Shaken Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not funny."

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

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

Atha-- what now?

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

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

"The Athabaskan's."

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

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

Not Me!

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

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

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

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

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

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

But when I turn it like this...

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

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

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

Embarrassed

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

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

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

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

Two Weeks Late

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

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

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

Two lessons that I've learned for future Christmases:

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

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

Duet

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

Ready!

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

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

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

Irrational

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

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

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

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

White Board

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

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

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

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

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

The Words

We had the house decorated, the presents wrapped and under the tree, and all activities chosen for the Christmas season before November ended.  It felt as if I needed to be prepared to just relax, for some reason.  I have felt emotionally stronger for a few months now, so I wondered if it was just my subconscious telling me to be ready.  Because I did need to be ready.

As the days drew closer to Christmas, more and more reminders of our missing Caden kept cropping up.  Little stings that made me cry.  Every single time.  We passed a Bronco on the road, and it set me off.  I'd be sitting at my computer and look up to see the Caden ornaments on the kids' tree, and it set me off.  I'd see the Netflix Profile names that he changed one time (Kiddie Pies and Mommy of Love), names that I'd seen many times before, and it set me off.  And the major one, Christmas Eve night, when we left his stocking hung as we filled the others.  The second Christmas hurt just as much as the first one.

During the break, I happened to be watching two shows that climaxed with two very poignant paragraphs that describe how I have been feeling.  Because of the work that was done in November, I was able to do something that I rarely do: sit and watch a show, instead of working while I kind of pay attention.  These are two shows I've seen before, but I needed to pay attention to hear these words.  Because they say it in a way I cannot right now.  I am too tired, too emotional, to write in the way that I know I can, in the way I feel I should.

Samwise to Frodo Baggins in Lord of the Rings:
"It's like in the great stories, the ones that really mattered... sometimes you didn't want to know the end, because how could the end be happy?  How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened?  But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow.  Even darkness must pass.  A new day will come.  And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer.  Those are the stories that stay with you, that meant something."

Mr. Magorium to Molly Mahoney in Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium:
"When King Lear dies in Act 5, do you know what Shakespeare has written?  He's written, "He dies."  That's all, nothing more.  No fanfare, no metaphor, no brilliant final words.  The culmination of the most influential work of dramatic literature is: "He dies."  It takes Shakespeare, a genius, to come up with, "He dies."  I've lived all five of my acts, and I am not asking you to be happy that I must go, I'm only asking that you turn the page, continue reading, and let the next story begin.  And if anyone ever asks what became of me, you relate my life in all its wonder, and end it with a simple and modest, "He died."

Randy and I both did a lot of crying on New Years Eve night.  We'd just dropped Keilie and her friends off at a dance.  As we were pulling away, we spoke of the last time we'd been to that building.  We were dropping Caden and Zachary Bagley off.  It felt so wrong to be dropping Keilie off without Caden.  Because he would have been there with her.  He would have watched out for her.  He would have asked her to dance.  I love that she has memories of him asking her, but I want more memories, for her, for me, and for everyone else.

We decided to stop by his grave on the way home.  And we cried and cried as we thought back on this first calendar year without him.  2018 had no new memories of Caden.  Not one.  Writing "and it breaks my heart" doesn't even state how much it hurts.

Our darkness is passing every day.  Things are getting easier.  There are moments that hurt so much, I don't know how I can continue breathing, but things are getting easier.  Time is not healing our wound, only we are learning to live with the pain.  I still verbally tell Caden I love him every single day, sometimes multiple times a day.  I still stare at his pictures, memorizing his face and marveling at his handsome everything.

As we were standing, huddled together, at his grave, I had a thought hit me that felt like a migraine exploding in the center of my brain, "It's still real."  I cannot believe my Caden died.  I cannot believe he is never coming back.  It's surreal that it's still real-- He Died.

I am not depressed.  I have not felt the sucking vortex of depression, for which I am grateful.  And, believe you me, I have been waiting and vigilantly watching for it!  As I say this next bit, understand that I am 100% not depressed in the least!  But I can tell you with all honesty that I have had a few thoughts this year about the joy of dying.  If we were on a family vacation, I'd think, "If we got into an accident right now, I hope we all died together."  And I'd feel joy and hope at the thought.  Because I miss my family being whole so much.  I cannot wait to see Heaven.  I cannot wait to feel the Heaven of being with my entire family in one setting, smiling, hugging, crying, and together.  I cannot wait to see my Caden again.  Because, death isn't as scary to me now.  I do not crave death to get away from this life, or to run away from the sorrow and dissipating darkness of our reality, but because it would mean we were together.  Together.

Until that time comes, the time where someone relates my life in all its wonder and ends with a simple and modest, "She died," I will strive to fill it with conviction, purpose, and joy.  I want to continue to try to live like my Savior and my son.  Because this life, this story, is one that stays with you, that really matters.

Smile!

How Mira feels having family come to visit.

Especially if you drop food for her to eat at every meal and snack time, throw the ball all.day.long, and give her a good scratch whenever she approaches you, which is what she's been getting non-stop since the Wilsterman's arrived!  We love it when people come to play!

You?

Ash and Russ arrived before Randy and I got home from a massage appointment yesterday afternoon.  I had to go to the bathroom, so I went quick before meeting them in the front room.

(Tiny, soft knock, knock, knock) "Caden, is that you?"

It was 3-year old Everly.  She was just 25 days shy of turning two when he passed away.  It didn't prick my heart so much as warm it.  She still remembers my Caden, still hopes to see him.  It made me tear up, but happy tears this time.

A few hours later, while looking at my lock screen on my phone, she said, "Oh, there you are Caden!"

It makes me beyond happy to see that she remembers him so much.

Osoyoos

In a friend's Christmas card, they sent a letter about some of the highlights of their year.  One of the things they loved, and would do again, was something that sounded like so much fun.  They stayed in Orroville, Washington to go to a Model Train museum in Osoyoos, Canada (pronounced: Oh-so-use).  So we hooked up our camper, packed up our car, gathered Christmas gifts to play with on the drive, and headed North.

We were safe, but the conditions were not ideal.  What should have taken us 4 hours ended up taking us 6+.  We arrived in time to set up the camper in the dwindling light (made even more dark because of the weather), have dinner at the only open restaurant in the tiny town, and play games in our camper until bed.  Not only was this an adventure to a new place, it was our first time trying our camper out in freezing temperatures.  Worked like a charm!

The next morning, we ate breakfast as we packed the car, and made it to the border with zero wait time.  While coming closer to the border the night before, we saw that it would take 45 minutes to go 8 miles, because of the border.  On this morning, without a wait, we made it to our destination in 15 minutes.  With time to kill before the museum opened (like our time in Seattle, we gave ourselves plenty of time for traffic), we took a little drive around the beautiful Osoyoos lake.  It was fun to see the change in speed limit signs, and the different gas prices.

It was one thing to read about this museum and another to see it with my own eyes.  I wasn't prepared for just how grand this place was going to be!

"In 1979 the Pedersen (Poul, Ulla, Joe, and Lotte) family packed all their belongings, including the trains, and moved from Denmark to Spain, where they stayed for a couple of years.  Poul had no sooner started to put up the train when he had to take it all apart again since another move was on the go.  Off to Canada they went in 1981 and Osoyoos became their new home town.  Poul built his own house, including 2000sq. ft of train room as usual.  He worked on that layout for 17 years and then it was time for another move."

"Now here we are today, and they hope this is their last move.  They built this warehouse in 2000 with about big room for the train, which was still just a hobby."

"After a couple of years, the family had a brain storming session and decided to open up the display to the public for the first time in 2003.  At that time, Ulla and Lotte got heavily involved and took over the creation of the landscaping.  Poul was very happy with that solution, as he did not care for the landscaping part."

"It started out very small, with about 500 sq. ft. of display.  Each winter they worked in the evenings and weekends to make the display bigger.  As the display has grown, so has the amount of visitors."

"Now that they have run out of space, they are re-vamping the older sections with new products that have come on the market, and upgrading a section at a time."

"The little people come from Germany, and are made of white unbendable plastic.  Ulla (the owners' wife) has hand painted more than 25,000 little people over the years."

"Trains have always been Poul's passion.  He enjoys building the frame work and laying the tracks for the more than 45 computerized trains currently running."

 Arms extended, one side of the first room of four, with place for one more (Caden) at least!

 Look at the detail under the "water."  That's a sunken treasure boat.

 Do you see my full-grown Mister looking tiny in the expanse?!

 Do you see the mountain scape towering above his height?!

 If this was a real town, this would be a place we'd go!

A few minutes into our perusal, the lights began to dim, and the display became new again.  We were transported to a different museum, without even leaving our spots!

 Day

 Night

 Day

 Night

 The mountain is on fire!

Pictures do not do this place justice.  You cannot believe how MASSIVE this place is.  There is SO MUCH.TO.SEE!!  One of the owners (Joe) was there fixing things and adding new features.  In one of the rooms, probably the first 500 sq. ft. room, he asked us if we'd seen the five wedding scenes after telling us more about many aspects of this incredible display.  We'd only seen one, so we all searched for a full 10 minutes to find the others.  Six people looking for ten minutes for four wedding scenes-- that's how much there is to see!  Every scene you could imagine was present, including mermaids!  Like our friends, Mike and Karen, I'd go back in a heartbeat!  Like I always do, I thought, "Caden would have loved this!"  He was missed in all aspects of this adventurous vacation.

The roads were much safer on our drive home. We made it home yesterday by 5:00pm.  I can't wait to do this again!!!  If you are looking for an unforgettable adventure, this is highly recommended!!!