parade and random saturday stuff

AH, I am the WORST at remembering to take pictures!  My girls were dressed in cute 4th of July outfits today and I totally forgot to make them pose for photos, so these are the best we have :)  Last night was our ward's Fathers and Son's camp-out.  Mason and Matt had a blast, they planned their little camping trip all week long.  Matt bought treats, they went to Cabela's to pick up some new camping gear, and enjoyed every minute of it.  When they got there Mason helped Matt set up the tent, they explored and played, and the men did a push-up challenge contest (figures :).  While the boys were gone we did girly things around here :).  We helped a friend decorate her daughter's room, babysat my friend Natalie's cute twins, and then had some cute friends over for a little ice cream party.  Afterwards we watched Soul Surfer and stayed up until 11.  The girls thought it was so great.  Then we got up this morning and dresesed in our 4th of July best :) to go to the Lehi Parade - another highlight that might become a tradition.  They loved the floats, bands, and dancers, and they scored TONS of candy and little prizes :).  Such a fun morning. 

Tonight we got a babysitter and went to dinner at Tsunami (first ever Sushi experience, LOVED it!) with our cute friends.  While we were eating, Shelly (yes, THE Shelly from The House of Smith's) walked in with her family and was seated at the table RIGHT next to us.  My friend Lindsay and I were totally startstruck, giggling like little teenage girls that there was a celebrity sitting next to us (our husbands had no idea what was going on and why we were all excited :).  As we walked out we sucked up enought courage to say 'hi' and tell her we loved her blog.  She was so super cute and nice, totally loved her!  Yep, that's my new claim to fame, I met the famous blogger Shelly (pretty much want to be her when I grow up).  Anyhow, that was our Saturday, pretty exciting (I know, not really, but remember how this is a journal?  It was exciting to me! :)

saying it doesn't get easier

As time passes, some things get easier.  Saying he is gone just doesn't.  I was in my home office working this afternoon when I got a random call from IHC.  The caller explained that she was conducting their maternity care follow-up survey, and so I began tentatively answering the interviewer's question, not sure where this call was going.  She asked my delivery date, what type of delivery, where I delivered, what we named our baby, etc.  Then she asked how much he weighed at birth.  I answered 3 1/2 lbs.  She was surprised and asked how he is doing and if he was in the NICU.  I could barely manage through my sudden rush of tears to choke out 'he passed away a few hours after he was born.'  The interviewer was sweet, offered her condolences and apologized for not knowing before her call, then kindly said she would just close the interview and not finish the questions.  I managed a barely audible 'thank you,' and we hung up the phone.  I sat there and just cried.  For some reason I can think of him and the joy we had holding him, I can wistfully wish he was here, I can talk about him, tell his story, compare his red hair and cute features to my other kids in conversation, and talk to my kids about him and not fall apart most of the time. Having to admit he is gone, having to say it out loud, having to feel by eyes burn and well with tears as I tell a new person that I lost my baby, that part just doesn't get easier.

Mason

This kid totally cracks me up. Seriously. He is pretty quiet, but hillarious at the same time. He is so excited to start Kindergarten in the fall. He has been doing karate and baseball, and LOVES them both. He is not afraid to get out there and play hard and try something new, and he doesn't let other kids' attitudes bug him. He is just an easy kid. He is so proud of his karate belt. He recently earned his first stripe, he loves that he is getting 'closer' to his black belt :) I am looking forward to him moving on to ANYTHING but his white belt. Seriously, who puts a white belt on 5-year-old boys and expects it to stay clean?!!? I mean, the uniform is white too, but I bleach that regularly. Apparently you can't wash the belt though, or you lose all of your knowledge that you have gained in class (?). Really? So they white each other with them, use them as lassos, and hold them in their dirty little hands, and these white belts get filthy. I am SOOO tempted just to toss it in the wash 'on accident' and not tell him... nobody would know, right? :) Haha, anyway, I just love that kid, I wish I could keep him at 5-years-old forever (but he reminds me every day that he will be 6 in just 2 months, oh, time is going too fast)!

(above) playing in the 'rainbow' bathroom - he thought the rainbow prism 'mohawk' was pretty funny :)

 (above) the gross white belt :)  The pic doesn't do it justice, it really is so dirty!

 (above) Mason practicing his karate moves :) 

 (above) stealth ninja moves :)

(above) such a Matt face, he is every bit his daddy's boy!

you can't come out unchanged.

"And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive.  You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over.  But one thing is certain.  When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in."

I can't say the storm is over yet, but I can say that I am not the same, Miles has changed my life in ways I couldn't have ever imagined. 

unlikely comfort

I have always had a paralyzing fear of spiders.  Like deathly afraid, can't even move when I see one.  When I was about 10 years old, I remember sitting on the floor in the kitchen putting away pots and pans, when I happened to look up and see a big black spider crawling up the wall.  It FREAKED me out!  I started to panic and yelled for someone to come kill it.  Nobody was all that concerned, this was a usual occurrence, and it was usually a teeny little spider or a 'harmless' daddy long-legs (I don't care how many times people tell me they are harmless, they CREEP me out!).  Anyhow, my mom told me to just squish it.  Nobody was coming and it was getting away, and if it got away who knows WHERE it would go... probably straight to my bed or something... so I made a pathetic attempt to kill it.  I swatted at it with a dishtowel just hard enough to knock it off of the wall and flip it upside down onto the kitchen floor.  Underneath on it's belly was the telltale red hourglass.  My biggest fear, a black widow.  I froze as it scurried under the kitchen cabinets where I had no hope of anyone killing it for me.  I was an anxious mess the rest of the day.  I couldn't focus, I couldn't calm down, and I couldn't even imagine going to sleep with that thing wandering the house.  Nothing my mom said could make it better.  Finally when my dad came home, my mom had had enough and told my dad to tell me to knock it off, I was being ridiculous.  He asked what I had seen, and I told him.  He told me he couldn't do anything, that it was long gone.  What he said next has always stuck with me.  He said, "well, I don't know what you are panicking about, there are tons more of them in this house, I have seen plenty of them in the attic."  I know, it sounds strange, but for some reason that was comforting to me.  There are tons of other ones out there, and they haven't killed me yet, so this one probably wouldn't either.  That was all I needed to calm down and let go.  And yes, I did sleep that night.  So how does this story relate to my life right now?  I don't know if it really does, but I tell you that story to tell you another.  A couple of weeks after Miles' passing I received a letter from a close friend's mother-in-law who had lost a baby a little over 40 years ago.  She shared her feelings and experiences, and said that she to this day still thinks of him, and still misses him.  My first thought was 'really, in 40 years I am still going to feel like this, it's never going to go away?'  But just like the with the spider, it brought an unlikely feeling of comfort and peace.  She had made it 40 years, and she was happy and had a good life, and it hadn't killed her yet.  There are plenty more years of pain and grief ahead, but knowing that they are out there and that they are survivable has brought comfort.

it happened

Tonight I was doing the dishes and watching my cute kids play tag and push each other around on ride-on toys on the deck.  They were up way past their bedtime and enjoying every minute of it, giggling and playing and being just so cute.  I smiled to myself as I watched them, and then I wistfully thought about Miles.  I got that same feeling, that tugging on my heart, that constant awareness that someone is missing.  It happens all of the time.  But this time it was different.  I didn't cry.  I imagined him out there playing with his siblings, just as I have so many times, but that was it.  No tears.  Just a wistful sigh, and then I finished what I was doing and called the kids in to get ready for bed.  I didn't know how I would feel when it happened, when that moment came that I thought about him in that way, but didn't cry.  I didn't know when it would happen, or if, but it did.  It was small, but it was something.  It was evidence that my heart will heal, and I will always be able to keep him a part of my life and think about him, but it won't always hurt so bad.  It was only a small moment, and there have been many tears at other moments since, but it gave me hope.

Father's Day

We are so grateful for all of the fathers in our lives.  Today I am especially grateful for Matt for being such a wonderful father to our kiddos.  He is my other half, my partner in crime, and he makes up for what I lack.  He loves spending time with the kids, and they eat up every second of attention they can get from him.  They were so excited for their Father's Day project/present.  I had seen this idea on Pinterest and I knew they would get a kick out of it.  I pulled out a white shirt and some fabric markers for the kids in the craft room (with the door shut so dad couldn't peek :) and explained to the kids that we were going to make a 'back rub' shirt for Dad.  I drew roads and buildings on it where they told me to, then they spent the next several hours (seriously) coloring it in and making it perfect for Daddy.  It comes complete with a racetrack, road signs, water feature, park, garage, carwash, and baseball field (of course). They were so excited, and SO proud of it!   

And of course, Daddy loved it! They thought the placement of the Gas Station on his lower back/bum was hilarious :)

Now whenever Dad wants a backrub, all he has to do is put on his special shirt and the kids will go to town (literally :) getting it done! :)

learning to play differently

I read this on a friend's blog right after Miles' passing.  I had forgotten about it until a dear friend (who also reads the blog I mentioned) typed it up on pretty paper and gave it to me to put in Miles' little box of keepsakes.  She also gave me a set of music note charms to put on my keychain to remind me of this analogy, and to remind me that it is okay to feel the deep pain of his loss, and to want to feel it, but it is also possible and okay to move on. 

My address is titled "The Myth of Getting Over It." It's my attempt to answer the driving questions of grieving parents: When will I get over this? How do I get over this?

You don't get over it. Getting over it is an inappropriate goal. An unreasonable hope. The loss of a child changes you. It changes your marriage. It changes the way birds sing. It changes the way the sun rises and sets. You are forever different.

You don't want to get over it. Don't act surprised. As awful a burden as grief is, you know intuitively that it matters, that it is profoundly important to be grieving. Your grief plays a crucial part in staying connected to your child's life. To give up your grief would mean losing your child yet again. If I had the power to take your grief away, you'd fight me to keep it. Your grief is awful, but it is also holy. And somewhere inside you, you know that.

The goal is not to get over it. The goal is to get on with it.

Profound grief is like being in a stage play wherein suddenly the stagehands push a huge grand piano into the middle of the set. The piano paralyzes the play. It dominates the stage. No matter where you move, it impedes your sight lines, your blocking, your ability to interact with the other players. You keep banging into it, surprised each time that it's still there. It takes all your concentration to work around it, this at a time when you have little ability or desire to concentrate on anything.

The piano changes everything. The entire play must be rewritten around it.

But over time the piano is pushed to stage left. Then to upper stage left. You are the playwright, and slowly, surely, you begin to find the impetus and wherewithal to stop reacting to the intrusive piano. Instead, you engage it. Instead of writing every scene around the piano, you begin to write the piano into each scene, into the story of your life.

You learn to play that piano. You're surprised to find that you want to play, that it's meaningful, even peaceful to play it. At first your songs are filled with pain, bitterness, even despair. But later you find your songs contain beauty, peace, a greater capacity for love and compassion. You and grief -- together -- begin to compose hope. Who'da thought?

Your grief becomes an intimate treasure, though the spaces between the grief lengthen. You no longer need to play the piano every day, or even every month. But later, when you're 84, staring out your kitchen window on a random Tuesday morning, you welcome the sigh, the tears, the wistful pain that moves through your heart and reminds you that your child's life mattered.

You wipe the dust off the piano and sit down to play.

********

Feb. 26, 2006

Copyright © Las Vegas Review-Journal

Steven Kalas is a behavioral health consultant and counselor at Clear View Counseling and Wellness Center in Las Vegas

we do not doubt that our mothers knew it

"And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying: We do not doubt our mothers knew it." -Alma 56:48

I mentioned that I have decided to treat this blog more like a journal. I have decided to keep it public (I don't publish the very personal entries, those will go in my personal printed version), however the things I write are the things that I want my children to read, the things I want them to know, the things I want them to know that their mother knew. Life doesn't always happen as planned, and I have no idea what waits around the corner for us, but I want to know that my children will know what is important to me, even if I am not very good at expressing it. I want them to know that they mean the world to me. Their safety, their health, and their happiness are the most important things to me. I want them to know that I love them, that I will always love them, no matter what. I want them to talk to me, to share their hopes and dreams with me. I want them to really know me, and I want to really know them. I want them to know that I love their father, and that the day I married him was the greatest day and best decision of my life. I want them to understand that that doesn't mean it's always perfect, we are both still human and we aren't perfect people (not by a longshot), but we love each other enough to rise above our imperfections. I want them to know that I love the gospel. I am still learning and growing in my knowledge and understanding of gospel principles, but I am so grateful for the gospel and the peace it brings. More than anything, I want them to know that I love the Lord and I love my Savior. I trust in the Lord, and try my hardest to know and understand and accept His will. I want them to know that I have a testimony of the power of  the atonement. I know that we can be cleansed of our imperfections, and if we try our very hardest, the Lord can help to make up what we lack. I want my children to know these things and understand them for themselves. And I want them to be able to say as the 2000 stripling warriors did that they do not doubt their mother knew it.  I want to be that kind of mother.

a day in the life

Where did my stay-at-home mom life with one little baby to take care of go? Seriously! I love my life, but it can get BUSY! Today we got up early to go yard sale-ing :) -okay, that wasn't necessary, but so much fun. My kids totally loved it, they each got to use their money to buy one thing. Of course it was a junky old toy, but hey, they spent like 75 cents, and were so proud of their purchase that they entertained themselves the rest of the day :) Seriously, they were so exciting to go yard sale hunting with me, it was like Christmas morning. Anyway, after we were done I had to run to Hobby Lobby on the way home for some more YUDU ink since I ran out (PS - I am NOT a YUDU fan, I will be putting that on KSL this week, total waste of money). When we got home I had to finish screen printing all of the shirts for our upcoming girl's camp (nothing like waiting 'till the last minute, I need to get them to the camp director by tomorrow :). I finished those, then put Maylee down for a nap while I went out into the garage to finish painting her dresser - I am determined to get it done and in her room before I leave for camp early Wednesday morning! Her nursery has been sad, empty, and unfinished since we moved in because I had decided to do a boy room in it for Miles. Now that I don't need a room for Miles, I just want to finish Maylee's room and make it stinkin cute (and I had already bought fabrics and cute things for her room before we moved in and found out I was pregnant, so I might as well use them :). WELL, while I was out in the garage, Maylee decided to put her newly aquired crib escaping skills to work (I knew she could climb out, so I made sure there was nothing on her floor, and I shut her closet doors before I left her room, and I had put a child lock on her doorknob so she couldn't get out of her room. Yes, I am mean. Judge me if you will, it's all about survival!). Anyhow, she went down pretty well, and although I could hear her little feet running around for a little bit, she was pretty quiet, and finally she stopped running around, so I assumed she was asleep (and there was no noise on the monitor). About 30 minutes later she woke up crying and cranky, which isn't normal for her, she usually wakes up happy and talking. I sent Matt in to get her since I was heat-setting the freshly screened camp shirts. I heard him say 'oh no, what did you do!?!?' when he opened her bedroom door. NOT a good sign. I walked down the hall and ran into him carrying Maylee with his arms stretched out holding her as far away from him as possible. He had found her buck naked :), and covered in grease head to toe. Then it hit me. I had a jar of Vaseline on a shelf in Maylee's closet behind a box of diapers. It was the ONLY thing in her entire room that she could have gotten into, and my little monkey found it. Crap. Have you ever had to clean up Vaseline? Not fun. She had smeared gobs of it in her hair, all over her body, on her clothes that she had removed, all over her floor (which luckily is bamboo, if it was carpet it would have been ruined), on spots on her ADORABLE yellow mandala print wool rug from West Elm (yeah, just wait until her room is done, it's going to be rediculously cute. At least I think so :), on the walls, the door, her baby doll, her crib, her blankets, her antique rocking chair, EVERYWHERE! I scrubbed and scrubbed at it while Matt showered her and washed her hair over and over. While I scrubbed I also called poison control (yep, mom of the year) since she had been alone in her room and I didn't know if she had tried to eat it. They told me it was fine, she likely didn't swallow it, but if she did it would just grease up her digestive system for a few days, not anything to worry about. After lots of scrubbing I got most of it off of the walls and floor and rug, and gathered up all of the clothes, blankets, and baby doll and threw them in the washing machine (I had googled it, as long as I used extra detergent and washed them several times on hot, it was okay to run them through the wash. I did the sanitize cycle - a 2-hour cycle - 3 times, and it worked. Thank goodness). Her hair was another story. After about 4 washes with hot water and dish soap it still looked awful, like grease coated dreadlocks. Sick. I googled again and read that olive oil and dish soap would do the trick. We put her in the kitchen sink this time, rubbed in the olive oil, then dish soap, then rinsed well with the hottest water she could stand using the sink sprayer. It helped a little. We repeated a couple more times, then we had to dry her off and get her dressed so we could head out the door to Mason's karate performance. He was SO excited, we didn't want to miss it! They were ADORABLE, and so serious about performing. Afterwards my kids were running around and everyone asked why Maylee's hair was still wet 2 hours later :). Nope, not wet, just Vaseline covered. We did the olive oil thing again when we got home, it got a little better. Hopefully it looks better in the morning for church! We have a ward-split meeting tomorrow, so we will see how that goes. Anyway, if you ever wondered what a typical day in the Brown household is like, there you have it. I can for sure say that we are never bored :) It's a little chaotic most of the time, but I love it, and I wouldn't trade it for anything! I LOVE my little family!

 (above) my happy yard sale buddies!  (Maylee wouldn't look at the camera so I just took a pic of the older 2 :)

 (above) ran across Frank's boat keys sitting on the console in Matt's truck.  Sure miss him.  If you knew him and his love for his boat, you know this quote totally fits him :)

 (above) Mason and Maylee after the karate performance (notice how Maylee's hair still looks wet 2 hours later?  Oh yeah, love Vaseline.)

 (above) Mason and his cute karate buddies :)

(above) FINALLY finished the stack of t-shirts (front and back) for camp.  PHEW!

the way it should be

I was looking at some friends' blogs recently and ran across one on a friend of a friend's blog announcing the arrival of their 4th child, a little boy.  The mom posted photos and blogged about her other kids meeting their new brother.  She wrote about how anxious they had all been to finally meet him. They looked about the same ages as my kids.  Their 2-year-old girl reminded me of Maylee, and she described her being so in love with him, and you could see it in her face.  I was happy for this family (I don't know them, I just happened across their blog), but I couldn't help thinking this was how it should be. Today is my due date. Today my kids should be excitedly meeting their new baby brother for the first time and smothering him with kisses while he grunts and protests. That's how it should be. Although today hasn't been as hard as I expected it to be, none of my babies have arrived on their actual due date, it is yet another reminder of things that should have been. We knew for awhile that Miles would likely be born long before his due date, but his due date was the time we could expect to take him home from the NICU, to have him a part of our daily life, and to be a central part of our family.  I see babies who were born the same week as Miles beginning to smile and reach fun little milestones, and again I think about how it should be. I watch Maylee so sweetly hold and care for other people's babies. I watch  the way Kinley and Mason excitedly talk about their friends' new siblings and how cute Kinley's teacher's baby boy is, and I am happy for those families, but they should have been able to have that excitement for their brother. Should have been able to love him and ooh and ahh over him and show him off.  They talk about how they would have played with him and taught him things.  Those are  the hardest things, the things that should have been. The family parties and vacations and birthdays and the mundane everyday things that he should have been part of.  I know that the Lord had a plan for Miles, and I constantly remind myself that this is how it was supposed to be for him, but sometimes I can't help but think about the way it should be.

another day in paradise

Maylee learned a new little trick today. Fabulous. So much for her talking in her bed for an hour every morning while I get dressed, and goodbye 4-hour naps every afternoon while I actually get things done.

And just when I thought it couldn't get worse, she learned to open the door and turn on the light in her bedroom.  Awesome.

I still love the little monkey, but this will take some getting used to!!!

I put Maylee down for her nap, and about 5 minutes later while sorting laundry I could hear a little fist knocking on her door.  I went in and there she was, standing by her door.  I picked her up, but her back in her crib, and told her not to climb out anymore, it is time to sleep.  She said in her cutest 2-year-old voice 'oh-day!'  I again closed the door and went back to sorting laundry.  A couple of minutes later I again heard her little knock on her door.  I decided to ignore it, she can't open doors and so she would eventually fall asleep somewhere on the floor.  I went downstairs to get Mason out the door to karate.  After he left, I turned around and there was Maylee standing at the bottom of the stairs.  I was so confused.  I picked her up and went up to her room, where sure enough her door was wide open and her light was on.  McKinley and her friends were in the craft room, so I asked them if they had let her out.  They said they hadn't.  I turned off her light, put her back in her bed, and shut her door again.  I sat outside her door this time and just listened.  After a couple of minutes I could her her climb out of her crib, run across her wood floor, hang on the doorknob to reach up to turn on the l ight, and then turn the knob until she got the door open.  The little stinker.  By that time it was too late for a nap, so we gave up.  After Mason got home from karate he had to get dressed for t-ball practice, then after practice Matt had a softball game, so we all loaded up and headed out to watch him play.  After their game was over, our cute friends invited us over for a late night roasting marshmallows on the fire pit.  It's summer, how could I say no to that :).  By the time we got home, though, Maylee was asking to go to bed, she was so tired.  We are going to have to figure out this nap thing, she can't survive without one (and neither can I, I will NEVER get anything done!).  Matt put her to bed and she went straight to sleep, she was so worn out from her busy day.  I took the kids over to the Hansen's and we laughed and roasted marshmallows and the kids played 'night games' until 11.  I finally had to end the fun and round up the kiddos to head home to bed.  As we walked home, Mason said 'that was the best night ever!'  I love summer!  Pretty sure there will be some late sleepers at my house tomorrow morning!

gratitude and cupcakes

Yes, it has been a rough couple of weeks, but I have not forgotten how much I have to be grateful for.  I am grateful that I get to wake up to these beautiful little faces every morning.  I love the funny things they say and do, and I love watching them learn and grow every day (although I do wish they would slow down a little, they are growing way too fast!) I am grateful for my wonderful husband, who although he is as tough and manly as they come, still asks me how I am feeling, listens to me cry, and can admit that he misses his little guy.  I love that he has a big huge soft spot for our mischievious little 2-year-old who just adores her daddy.  I love that he enjoys doing 'man things' with Mason.  I love that he keeps up on Kinley's school work and reading, and always remembers to ask her how her friends are doing and what she learned that day.  I am grateful for my family.  I love them so very much. 

 And I am grateful for the little things.  The simple pleasures.  Eating dinner as a family, even if it's just hot dogs.  Going for walks around the neighborhood.  Making cupcakes with the kids.  The sheer joy on their faces as they lick off JUST the frosting.  I have so much to be grateful for. 

they said it would happen

and it did.  Just like they said.  They said I would be fine and feel like life was getting back to some sort of 'normal', then around 2 or 3 months after Miles' passing the pain would come back full force.  I was doing fine, having more good days than bad, and making 'progress.'  I figured they were wrong, they didn't know me, I can deal with this just fine and not fall backwards.  But it did come back, just like they said.  The shock and fog has started to wear off.  It hit me like a ton of bricks.  And again it's hard.  His headstone is done, my c-section has mostly healed, the last of the medical bills have been paid, the loose ends have all been tied up, and there is nothing left to be done for him.  There are no life plans to make for him.  There are no new milestones to report.  There is nothing new to say.  And people don't really ask anymore.  Not that I blame them, what else is there to say.  But it's a harsh reality that becomes more real every day.  I don't ask why it had to happen, I know it did, I can accept that it was the will of the Lord.  But why does it have to be so hard.  Why does my mother heart have to long to hold my baby.  Why do I have to miss him so much that it physically hurts.  Those are the things that I have to ask why.

Mason's 1st t-ball game

It was a big day for Matt Mason (okay, his daddy too :), he had his very first t-ball game tonight!

They were both SO excited.  Last weekend Matt took Mason out by himself to McDonald's for breakfast and then they headed over to Dick's Sporting Goods to get Mason fitted for his first REAL baseball glove, as well as pants, cleats, a bat, and a cool baseball bag.  It was probably the best day of Mason's life so far, he came home so excited to show everyone his new gear and try it on for us.  He has been asking every day when his first game would be.  We sure love that little guy, he is growing up too quickly!

something someone said

a good friend sent me this quote the other day, and I thought it was a perfect follow-up to my post when you say nothing at all. 

“If you know someone who has lost a child or lost anybody who's important to them, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died, they didn't forget they died. You're not reminding them. What you're reminding them of is that you remember that they lived, and that's a great, great gift.” –Elizabeth Edwards

I couldn't have said it better.  It's not that I want to talk about only Miles all of the time, I can talk about other things too, but I want to know he is remembered.  Especially now, as time passes and life moves on for everyone else, and the shock has started to wear off for me and reality is setting in.  Trust me, you are not reminding me, not a minute goes by that I don't think of him.

nothing says 'hello summer' like a swim party

at Aunt Lisa's!  Thanks to Lisa and Greg for hosting a fun summer kickoff swim party & BBQ, I can't think of a better way to start our summer!  We always look forward to holiday swim parties at the Cowley's!

And of course, it wouldn't be a swim party without the traditional violent game of pool basketball.

 Seriously.  They always end with several people bleeding, bruised, or (in today's case) being kicked below the belt.  Yep, we love our family! :)

entry a day

Today the Young Women's president taught a great lesson on journals.  Journaling has always been something that I struggle with.  I want to do it, I try to do it sometimes, but I seem to get busy and fall short of my goal.  After Matt's dad passed away, Matt started to read his journal.  He spent an entire day reading the things his dad had written.  A few little stories and anecdotes from their childhood, and random thoughts and events of significance to him.  There wasn't much, but Matt learned things about himself, and about how his Dad felt by reading what he had written.  After he had read it all, he said he wished there was more.  I am sure that is how my children will feel.  They will read the few random things that I have written and wish that there was more.  There are years of gaps and lapses in writing.  After today's lesson I decided to try something more simple.  Since for me blogging seems to be the most effective form of journaling, I am going to do an entry a day on my blog.  Just a few sentences or something funny the kids said that day, and maybe a photo or two from my phone.  That's all, pretty simple, but hopefully it will give my kids something to remember and read someday when time has passed and they have forgotten.  Hopefully in reading the things I write and the little things that I find significant, they will know how much I love them.

Rather than start a new post (since I have started like a million of them :), here is today's entry.

McKinley gave a talk in Primary today.  I am so proud of her, she is becoming such a responsible little lady.  She helped Matt write her talk this morning (because like not-so-responsible parents we forgot about her talk).  She insisted that she could get up herself and read it, and she did.  I did convince her to let Matt help hold the pictures while she spoke so that she could concentrate on what she wanted to say :).  She is growing up so quickly, and constantly talks about how excited she is to turn 8 and get baptized in a few months.  I sure love that girl!   

Mason lost his 1st tooth!

This is a few days late, he lost it last Thursday (May 31st), but I just took a picture of his goofy grin to post it :) He was so funny, I didn't even know he had a loose tooth. I noticed his tooth looked a little crooked, so I asked him about it and he said it was loose. When Matt got home I had Mason show it to dad (I hate loose teeth), Matt wiggled it, then just yanked it out. Mason didn't make a noise or even cry. He was all ready for karate (in his white uniform, I kept telling him to make sure he didn't get blood on it :), so he ran out the door to karate carpool about 3 minutes after Matt pulled his tooth out. He was so excited to show his friends the hole in his smile, and he was VERY excited for the Tooth Fairy to pay him a visit :)  Love that guy, goofy grin and all!

little ray of sunshine

We are so grateful for our little Maylee monster!  If you know her, you know she is a little spitfire.  She is bossy, stubborn, and spunky, but we all just love her to pieces, and she makes us laugh constantly.  Since the older two kiddos are often out playing with friends or at school, Maylee is my little sidekick.  She is always with me, and even in her naughty moments she somehow makes me laugh (even though I sometimes have to pretend to be mad :)

 (above) Maylee loves to play with the rainbows in my bathroom (the glass doors and chandeliers cast little rainbows all over the room in the mornings, Maylee gets so excited and shouts 'rainbow' and tries to 'catch' them on her hands :)

 (above) yep, that about sums up Maylee. Always on the run looking for trouble!

 (above) Maylee discovered the 'self-portrait' mode on my phone, she thought it was hilarious to take a million pictures of herself sticking her tongue out :)

 (above) she insisted on wearing Mason's cowboy hat and her cowgirl vest with her pajamas tonight.  Seriously, love that cute little face!

 (above) Maylee's guilty face as she got caught stealing an apple out of my fruit bowl on the counter :)

 (above) Maylee found the baby carseat before I had a chance to put it back in storage.  She insisted on being buckled in and sat there while she ate her breakfast (a burnt eggo that Mason had made for her :)

 (above) these two are quite a pair, they LOVE each other, but they really love to push each other's buttons!

 (above) such a little princess

(above) for all of her wildness and spunk, she has such a sweet soft side.  She loves to ask about her baby brother, asks about mommy's 'owie' (my c-section scar), and give loves and kisses when she sees someone feeling sad or hurt.  I don't know what we would do without this little girl!

2 months. 61 days to be exact.

Miles would be 2 months old today. 2 months has never felt so long. With my other kids I would have to stop and think, then do some math. I would often lose track of how many days or weeks or months old they were.  Not with Miles.  I know every day, every minute, every hour.  I have felt every second of the time that has passed since I last held him and kissed his soft cheeks.