i'm h. mac

Help

2016-06-19T15:35:00.001-07:00

the last month I have had this feeling that something was going to change. I couldn't put my finger on it, I tried worrying about it, scott felt it too. I thought maybe scott would be getting a different church calling but I kept feeling change with our house. Were we going to have to move? Were we going to win the lottery and get to pull out the upstairs carpet that I have regretted for 6 years? (as a compromise for doing wood floors I scrimped on the bedroom carpet and it is such a horrible grade, after a year it was matted flat) it was just the strangest feeling of impending change.

Also of note, correlating with this feeling of change my post partum hormones have been on a roller coaster and I am regretful to say that my gratitude has been hanging by a thread. I have been hard pressed to find any silver linings in my life. I have come to recognize this state of mind and try to detach from it, comforting myself with the thoughts that it will pass but really praying that it can be lifted. I wouldn't classify it as depression but maybe an inability to fully feel joy without significant self talk and pattern recognition.

With these things in mind, we had an amazing fast and testimony for the month of June. I could feel the spirit so strongly and felt powerful impressions throughout the meeting. One sweet girl, who was newly engaged to a member of our ward, stood and bore her testimony. She talked about her physical disability and her new fiancé's limited ability to do some things. She talked about life in such a powerful way and delivered a line that had tears springing from my eyes the second she said it. After describing her love for Alex, her fiancé, and her pride in the awesome things he is doing for her, she talked about the things that were hard for him to do, physically. She talked about her limitations and about how we all need help.

We all need help.

It was a tearful plea. It was heartfelt and so emotional.

It was so profound for me.

We all need help.

That line ran thru my heart daily and I was able to embrace the truth of it. If we plan on returning to a loving Heavenly Father, we have to come to know help, both receiving and giving. It is an essential part of our time here.

I thought of the amazing family this girl was marrying into and how perfectly matched she and Alex are. I was so impressed with this girl and in my deranged way of negative thinking started to feel bad for myself. I was thinking what a phenomenal job Alex's family has done with everything they have been faced with and felt myself shrinking with my duties as a mom. i admire this particular family immensely and was feeling like I was falling short in a lot of things I was doing. I resolved to do better and be the kind of mother to raise kids like Alex and his fiancé. They are a family that is love. They give it, they feel it, they share it.

With these thoughts swirling in my mind, I resolved to beat my negative feelings. To stop my brain from this stupid way of thinking.

Scott was supposed to be to scout camp over my birthday, which seemed okay in March when he told me, but the closer it got, the more that decision seemed to be a very bad one. I was trying to remember a year when he had been able to give me a day of his time. Suddenly I was mad because I was pretty sure my birthdays were always devoted to youth activities for the past 8 years. I decided to celebrate me by really being kind to myself and not letting this get in the way. I scheduled a hair color, a massage, dinner with friends, I was going to do it right!

The day of my hair color 5/7 woke up with the pukes. Flat down for 24 hours. It had been years since that had happened to all of us that fast. The day of my birthday turned into meetings and a drive thru for dinner. There were some tears.

The night before scott was to come home from scout camp in the uintahs, I was awakened at 2:10 am to our fire alarm going off. At first, I thought the house was on fire. It was filled with smoke. When I got up, I could hear a noise coming from the bathroom. When I went in, I saw that the newly hooked up claw foot tub had a cevered hot water line
in the floor. What I thought was smoke was actually steam. Hot steaming water was pouring everywhere. The kids were up now, distraught. I was panicked. In my delirium I tried to put the pipe back into the fitting but it was immovable and incredibly hot. The water was coming straight from the water heater, about 110-120 degrees. I ran down the stairs to the main floor and found that the fire alarm was going off because water was pouring thru it and it must have been causing a short. Water was pouring thru every can light, a wall of it pouring down all over a new couch we had saved for for a year. All over the computer, the floors, the antique chairs from Scott's great grandma. I ran to the basement to find the water had gone all the way to the basement as well. Pouring in all over. I was looking at the water heater and trying to figure out what needed to be turned off. By this time I was panicked. I ran back upstairs to see if what I thought was happening was really happening. I was loudly, and very verbally pleading for heavens direction. Help me know what to do, I repeated over and over. I need help.

My dad was out of town, my in laws were out of town, my brother in law that works construction was out of town. I called the police, and deservedly so, the dispatcher laughed at me and told me to cal a plumber. It was at that point I realized that we were all safe. No one's life was in the balance, this was just stuff. But the line ran thru my head, we all need help. I told Grayce to start calling neighbor's and the other kids to grab buckets and start bailing water out onto the patio. As I went out to the patio with my first bucket of water, I was horrified to see the water pouring out the backside of the house, the patio completely soaked. I ran again downstairs and went to a small lever on the water heater and pulled it down. The noise stopped. I ran upstairs to see that the water stopped.

Kind neighbor's and friends that heard grayce's call came to a bunch of sobbing people with a very wet house.

I was able to fully accept all the help that was given because I was in a deep deficit. If I hadn't heard those words and hadn't had them affect me the way they did, I think the outcome would have been different. My kids had a warm, dry home to go to and to finish sleeping that night. I had dear trusted friends stay and watch the sun filter thru the windows to reveal a beautiful sunrise and a disaster crew to clean the water up! Hot cocoa and donuts were given and received, food brought over, water bottles, advice at the perfect time, comfort, love, kindness. Golde McKay slept thru the entire thing and only woke up once, it was the first time that has happened in her lifetime!! Scott got a text as soon as he got cell service:

we are all safe. Water main broke, house is flooded. Welcome home.

My parents came home early from their trip to house a ragged group of relatives and we have been here ever since. It looks like this may be our home for a bit until we get water turned back on and the exposed electrical covered with drywall.

Suddenly, I can feel that this was the change I was feeling and yes, I get new carpet, but in a strange be careful what you wish for kind of way. The thing is, I don't know if I would have ever wished for my house to flood but I would never ever give away the chance to feel help. Suddenly, that negative cycle I was caught up in has turned into a whole lot of love, just like this family I was feeling so far below and I realized something. We don't become great while being stagnant or comparing ourselves and feeing deficient. We get the chance to become like those we admire when we live life and feel help. As if my parents heavenly abode wasn't big already after raising 6 scoundrel children, it will surely be multiplied because they have made room in their hearts and home for us without question this past week. I was able to go to sabbath worship today and not feel so far below what I should be doing but feel renewed because I was able to feel help from my most admired and loved brothers and sisters.

2016

2016-01-07T14:54:00.000-08:00

it's all coming out here. so many months of building up and thoughts. they are begging to be here. it's accountability and it's so therapeutic.

if i would have known how wonderful the aging mind and heart are i would have wished my whole life to be in my 36th year. honest. but mostly, if i would have known in the years before this one how necessary the belief in the separation in our spirits and bodies are, i would have fared my twenties with much less bruising.

things that are so good right now.

my relationships with my people. scott. grayce. easton. ella. rowan. golde.

i feel so connected and so in tune with them. i feel like we are all working together and going forward. we aren't in life's boat with someone hanging out wanting to stop. there are no leaks, we are afloat and we are loving the ride.

i have tried so hard to receive fully the gift of this baby. her spirit with us here, physically, has added something to us. it has changed me. it has given me priority and perspective that is nothing short of heaven's windows pouring straight to my spirit. all those hard rough places feel so right. it's not because she is soft and quiet and easy. its not because being tired is my strongest quality or the easiest on a marriage. it's because i acted on this teeny tiny particle of faith. and i didn't try to change my husband's mind about our family's size. i surrendered. i stopped worrying. i asked with all the faith i have ever accumulated that if this is what our plan is that all the things will line up. that all the hearts will be soft.

and he knew i needed that attitude for this baby. i could not have appreciated a golde in my twenties. this girl.

she is loud.

she does not like sleep.

and she loves 3 people enough to allow them to hold her. they are as follows: me, my sister, grayce.

unfortunately this list doesn't include her father. or her grandma's or grandpa's. or her brothers.

back ups are my friends angela, rachel, and taleese.

her mornings are spent not sleeping and making loud animal noises. her nights are spent staying up until every last person has gone to bed. it's like she is so plugged into the energy of this house she just can't miss one second.

and i am the happiest i have ever been, ever. that's the gift part.

it's like having her here gives me constant perspective because i see how quickly it goes. screaming all day? no problem, grayce and ella will be home soon to take over loving and adoring her. poop coming out her backside? bonus bath which includes more time to take in her majestic thighs! i have come to see there are worse things in life than these small inconveniences. i know i will blink and she will be packing those bags and leaving us for grand adventures leaving only these memories in her wake.

every year i come up with what the theme was, what i was able to focus on or what came up the most. my 2015 theme was a healthy mind. i have never learned more about the importance of a healthy mind. there has been a lot of therapy this year to help this little family work better. little glitches that felt like i was above my head and heart and capacity. someone referred to me recently as a downer, it was done lovingly and with good intent. i immediately texted my most treasured friend and asked for honesty. she responded that i am a spiritual person and a thinker. maybe these can be confused. i feel a lot of things, like so much. like my heart and head have so many feelings. so many. and at night, it takes a lot to go to sleep because i have so many ideas and concepts and it has taken copious amounts of discipline to turn it off. hence why therapy has been so helpful for me and my little family. i have come to see how my weaknesses affect everyone around me. we all fall short. therapy has helped me see how to better adjust myself to situations that really overwhelm me. i struggle with OCD. my thoughts become so focused and i really have to work to recognize that and tell myself to stop. i have struggled with depression thru the years and holding all the sad things inside is no good. no good. when i eat a high sugar, high carb diet i get extreme bursts of energy that cause severe crashes. that is not fun to think about but being real about it and not holding on to it is vital. i have to do everything i can to keep my mind healthy and happy! mostly, i have to remember my spirit is not my body. they require two different kinds of care. i am not tied to the limitations of my body. yes, it's crappy that i have malfunctions with my physical body but when i forget about my spirit and am not so gentle with the thoughts my mind tells my spirit, i will experience sadness. sometimes all consuming.

the things i have put in place to combat my weaknesses.

cleaners. i actually love to clean. so much that it's a problem. i have a hard time separating pick up and surface cleaning. by cutting back on certain things we are able to have help twice a month. my kids do know how to deep clean and pick up, not perfectly. wherein lies where i get overwhelmed and my OCD takes over. it is not worth being overwhelmed and compromising my relationship with my people over how shiny a toilet is but my limitations always surface and it can become an issue over time. cleaning help allows me to be on top of dejunking and pick up without being constantly burdened and overwhelmed.

love. time and time again i have come to the conclusion of the importance of our hearts. they are directly tied to our spirits. when i am overwhelmed with the shuffle of 5 kids, household duties, financial duties, yard work, menu planning, and on and on i tend to let my heart be hard and impenetrable. i don't want to be like that. i don't want to compromise my relationships over the thick of thin things. i am not a yeller but when i get overwhelmed i get sad. when i am sad i pull back and hold back contributing to those vital relationships. that's not okay. love always wins. if i can remember to have a sincere heart always i can keep the important things in the right order.

friends. i have come to the painful/sweet/valuable lesson that friends are the bonus of life. they are not the staple of life, they are not the mainstay of life. they are the dessert menu to a complete meal, they are the august of life - the sweetest berry summer has to offer. in observing women and friendships thru the years i find that the most conflict occurs when friendships are held to main course standards. friendships become the most prized treasures when they are treated as that bonus they were meant to be. i have been the receiver of the most delicious desserts this year. i hold my friendships high and close and i have been so rewarded this year and feel lucky to add another layer to all my desserts.

so here's to 2016. a new year. a new chapter and a chance to be more.

entrance

2015-07-15T08:17:00.001-07:00

i don't know if there are words to describe what the last 9 months have been like for me. i don't think i have the capacity to describe it all or to bring it all together with a blog post but i would like to try and pen the feelings that have been surrounding us with the entrance of this sweet baby.

i think i have brought sufficient attention to my misery to anyone surrounding me at any point during the past 9 months. it was hard to be around anyone because i didn't want to ever be accused of being ungrateful. but a few minutes with me and my mid section and you would indeed be hip to the misery. there was no quote, or self help book, or richard simmons move that would help the suffering lift. purely survival.

so the dr suggests a start date of may 13. he said this to me at about 34 weeks acknowledging that it will be very likely i won't make it until then as he watches me get tense about every 3-7 minutes. fine i say. very unlikely.

i go into survival. i don't tell anyone about the start date. i have major performance anxiety. majorly. i don't want to be a bother to anyone and it might have been i didn't even tell scott about the start date for a few weeks. no way was i going to have to be started, the contractions were so bad and so constant.

at 36 weeks rocky (the dr.) tells me, you made it! hooray! we did it! come up at any time, let's do this. any time the contractions get to be too much- come on up, i won't try to stop it. be careful he says, that baby's head is not where it should be and you have so much fluid. that baby could likely slide out. and then the cord was where the head was supposed to be and i was in a stew. but i felt this overall feeling of peace. and i tell myself over and over, i can do a few hours of misery to get this baby out. i can, i can. even a dire circumstance only takes a few hours to forge thru.

so may comes and i am so miserable i can't talk. if i do, i bawl or bark. and then my blood turns weak and i am a bleeder. there's a chance i might not be eligible for an epidural. and that is almost more than i can handle. i am maxed for miserable. go up, scott begs every 4 or 5 hour stretch of 3 minutes apart. no, that baby wasn't big enough last exam. he said that baby was only 6 pounds. i can do a few more days and hope for a few more ounces on this baby.

may 12th comes and i have told no one. well, i told grayce i had some blood work early in the morning and could she stay home from school to watch rowan. the night of may 12th comes and we get kids to bed and then get some things together. my sister in law has offered to photograph the birth and scott tells me it would be horrid of me if i didn't tell her. so i confide late the night before. she says she will be ready for the call. maybe by dinner i tell her and grayce can watch your girls.

we check in the next morning and they tell us we have to wait. didn't we get their message at 5:15 am? no, we were hustling. they tell us go eat breakfast, go wander for a few hours.

so we wait. i am so sick. literally. my throat has been on fire for a few days and my stomach is not happy. not happy at all.

finally, it's 9 o'clock.

by ten i am hooked up, anti-biotics dripping as i tested positive for strep B. four hours and then they will break my water. the nurse comments that i am already contracting quite regularly and being that it's my fifth she will only give me the lowest dose of pitocin for fear of delivering before the 4 hour mark. they don't want anything happening before that 4 hour mark.

i have so much fluid that when they try to put the heart rate monitor on for the baby, it won't stay, anywhere. i am so round that it flips off in any position. they have to monitor the heart rate. so for the day, i held this monitor. there is so much fluid, that i have to press deep into my skin to get a heart rate. plus, all that fluid made for a circus act for this baby. this baby is twirling and whirling around. it worked rather brilliantly as a distraction for me. between being in and out of the restroom from the fluids and the heart rate tracking, time seemed to go by quickly. by eleven o clock i decide we should call my mom. school will be out early this day and i need someone to grab the kids and bring them up to the hospital.

i call my mom who has promised to stay close until i have the baby. she doesn't answer. i call her house, i call her cell phone. after a bit of this i call my dad. i am a bit panicked and my plan has back fired. he tells me she is at the payson temple open house with her friend who is investigating the church and she has obviously left her phone at home. payson is not close to ogden if you are having a baby. my dad agrees to grab kids from school when it's time.

12:30. the dr checks in. i am still a 4. still at what i came in at. i can't progress until my water breaks. the head is crazy high but it is a head. he tells me he will be back at 2 to break my water.

at one the anesthesiologist comes in. it happens to be one of our friends and one of the partners in scott's group. at first this made me feel relieved but then a little strange. i don't cart scott around naked to my friends. like how should i feel about this at the next company christmas party? it's for sure a strange life when you are married to a medical professional. i can't think about things too much. the epidural was amazing. the mix tim did for me was so good i felt everything and so good i didn't feel anything. i was walking soon after and had no after birth or back issues, it was such a blessing.

at 1:50, rocky walked in and got to work. by 2:00 he had hooked my water.

there were 15 weeks of anticipation leading up to this moment. i dreamt of the relief that would come. i cried myself to sleep many nights praying for this relief.

but.

nothing. a little trickle. i had prepared the nurse for a flash flood, i was atop loads of towels with plenty on hand. she could see my devastation and checked me and found the baby's head was down enough that there was no way the water would all come out at once.

a few minutes into this and this crazy horrific pain right where my placenta had attached starts. it happened a few times during long stretches of contractions or whenever i was sitting in a chair that wasn't my recliner. all i can describe it as is a charlie horse in your gut. it was the closest pain to kidney stones i have ever had. it felt like something was being ripped apart inside of me. this was the second time during the labor that this happened and the nurse was growing nervous this time. there was some bleeding with it and also the baby's heart rate was dropping with the pain. and then there was a large gush. the flash flood i had prepared her for was happening. the gushing, the relief. everything. but this pain.

and then suddenly, it stopped after 20 minutes and the nurse checked me. i was a 10 and ready to go. she is paging the doctor and i am having scott call my sister in law and mom. hurry, we tell them!

i am in so much shock and disbelief.

there is rushing around, and running, and paging, and supplies, and in walks the doctor.

he is calm and ready and had a little smirk. he knew i would go fast but not this fast he says. we decide to face time the kids so they can be a part of the delivery. scott has the camcorder in one hand, his phone by the top of my head, and the DSLR around his neck.

one push.

ginger hair! red hair rocky says!

what!?!?!?!

one more push mom and this little ginger baby will be here.

once more and out flies this bright headed baby that is making all of the right kinds of ruckus. he holds her up and thru my tears i ask, what is it?

he gently lays this baby on my body and says, you tell us mom.

i look and take her into my arms.

it's a girl, i cried, and my cheeks are wet with all of the things this world hasn't given words for.

and the kids, they screamed, and cheered, and whooped, and hollered.

and there are tears streaming down my face.

and she is perfect and it is over. and her hair is red.

and at the moment, i knew what i knew for a long time. she was meant to be and waited so patient.

she is golde. (the original 1800's spelling of goldie)

golden hair, golden eyebrows, golden lashes.

fair skin.

i can see ella in her coloring and grayce in her dimples. i can see the christensen side in her and the mcfarlane genes. attribute certain things to scott's family.

and i know she is ours.

the joy and relief are palpable.

the nurse wipes a few of her own tears away and the doctor tells us those cheers are something he will never forget. he quietly goes to work stitching and repairing.

and after a few minutes of skin to skin my sister in law rushes in and starts clicking away. i am all sewn together and then my mom and kids rush in.

and suddenly the clock stops, the reuniting is all around us. there are questions and there is caution. and it is heaven.

in all my living in 36 years, i don't know if there is more appreciation for a hard thing. i know that everything that matters on earth is in the room with me, both seen and unseen. everything it represents. for scott and i, it was setting aside our selfishness to be done doing hard things and opening our hearts to this little spirit, fresh in her body, and basking in this amazing love that surely drenches heaven.

she weighs in at 8 pounds 1 ounce.

no way says the doctor. are you sure? that baby fooled us all, she was not measuring that big.

i am sure she was that big i say. yes, pretty sure.

and the relief that leaves my body, scott's body, my mom's body is so palpable in the room. and at that moment, it was caught on camera.

ella is washed and ready and has been for 9 months. hand her over.

and then she has had her turn and she comes to my side. mom, she whispers, it's twins!

i look around to see if there has been another baby carted into the room. there is not. so it begs the question, why do you think that sis?

look at your belly mom! there's still another one in there!!

a discussion about the amazing ability of the muscle called a uterus ensues. it still takes weeks for her to believe this explanation.

easton has this cautious, gentle love for her.

my mom welcomes her 8th grand baby!

rowan is a giggler with golde. it took him some time to be convinced she was clean enough to hold. seeing her fresh was a little alarming for him!

my first and fifth girl. scott and i are still amazed coming from families with 7 brothers and only 1 sister between us that we have 3 girls!

grandpa alan was in town to meet golde girl!

the first few days were so magical. i could feel so profoundly that this girl is strong. she is fire, and life, and energy. she has a serious case of the mommies which i find incredibly appropriate for the trouble that proceeded her! she loves her time to eat, its not only her meal but her most favorite hobby if that's possible.

i pinch myself everyday.

the feeling that i keep having is that this is the crazy i have hoped for my whole life. i never could have dreamed our life would be so full. there is something so profound in my everyday since this baby has been with us. it's a reverence and deeper love and gratitude for a creator's plan that i haven't felt before. maybe it's age and maybe it's growth, but its peaceful. and its happy. and it's ours.

above

2015-07-02T11:02:00.000-07:00

there is a childhood experience that is still so vivid in my memory and as school gets out every year, i always think about it with fondness.

when my family moved to north ogden, 28 years ago, my parents felt incredibly guided and directed to be there. the lot that they bought, the builders they chose to build our home, everything about it was all orchestrated.

it was solidified when we met our neighbors. all of them. we were surrounded by the best. it was especially exciting to us when the Su'a family moved in. or maybe they were there before us. i don't remember, childhood blurs the lines. but, i do remember that once our families met, the deal was sealed, it was a bosom buddy situation.

my mom found one of her dearest friends and i recall many, many afternoons spent on their back patio with women gathered. they would talk, laugh, relate, and bond. the time our families spent together has proved to be a life long bond. they are family.

i have one very distinct memory. one that i mentioned i think of often and recently i was able to recall it and connect it to a current ongoing in our family.

one summer afternoon, both mothers thought we should go up over the mountain and have a picnic in the wilderness. my mother knows how to do it right. we spent endless days over the mountain just a few minutes away from our house as kids. on this particular day we took a picnic up to north fork and introduced the Su'a family to our tromping grounds. if memory serves me right, it was their first time up there.

we went to our favorite site. it boasted a lazy river with a large tree which was a perfect place to entertain 8 kids. 4 of the aforementioned kids counted/doubled/multiplied because their names were mikey, manti, vaughn, and devin. these boys were the epitome of what and how boys should be. the stories that have been revealed thru the years of their misdeeds together have caused my mother to be grateful at night when she prays. grateful they all survived. so, you can imagine the setting of wilderness, water, and wild boys.

we had the perfect afternoon. the sun was brilliant and we were under a canopy of leaves. we discovered a long, large rope tied to the massive tree overlooking the river. soon, we were jumping into the water via this rope. over and over. again and again. there was yelling, screaming, and misbehavior from everyone, except probably jamie, she was always angelic. but the rest of us tested our mothers limits and surely made them crazy. my brother cameron caught a fish barehanded, threw it on jenilyn repeatedly and understandably, that put her into tears, fits, horror that i am sure caused permanent damage. vaughn, mikey, manti, and devin found sticks. always sticks. keep in mind they were all under 6 at this time and it was always about the sticks for every adventure. the best one, the longest one, the one that was most smooth. i don't remember where i fit in to the scene, most likely at my mother's side. i have always, always enjoyed conversation. is there such thing as a hobby conversationalist? is that real? because it's me and it's my mother. even when conversations were above my head and over my level, i appreciate her never shooing me and always letting me discover/observe the art of conversing.

as the afternoon wore on and the activities shifted, the boys decided to explore a different part of the river. across the road, a different path the river flowed. my mother never had the luxury of trusting her boys alone. never. and if she did, it was always met with stark consequences. this time was no exception. i don't know the amount of time that had passed, but knowing these boys, not long. soon, we heard mothers screaming all of their names and we knew it required everyone's attention. the river they decided to explore started shallow, it started innocent. it was accessible by road on both sides with shallow bush. but soon, it was beyond the road, the trees were impossible to navigate and those boys were lost. the further their river adventure took them, the deeper the water. they knew they were in trouble long before they could hear their names. they were trying to come up, back, get out. with it being so thick and deep it became a feat that required effort. the details after this become fuzzy to me, probably as all of these episodes with my brothers do. i think i always felt their lives were in the balance every single time and i tend to block some things out due to the trauma. they did this to my mom more than they should have. but, i do know that they were found and possibly spanked. deserved to be spanked. their adventurous plan back fired.

the memory of my mom and pam standing at the dense bush yelling for them is vivid for me to this day. i felt their desperation, even as a 9 year old. little boys, floating down an increasingly rapid river with no road or path to reach them.

we have found ourselves in a situation as parents lately that triggered this memory to affect me in a different light. as i was checking into the counseling office the thought hit me that there should be as many mental health clinics as there are physical health clinics. while it would seem charmed to declare all parents are equipped to deal with every situation that comes across the paths of their kids, it would be incredibly foolish to accept that truth as reality. i would never let my child suffer endlessly from strep throat. if i did, it would escalate into a dire circumstance. if my child had a physical deficiency, i would quickly seek help to remedy or ease the situation. i wonder why we aren't as quick to accept our defeat when we are in over our heads with mental health situations? all it entails is finding a different kind of help. the kind that helps ease our burdens as parents and gives us tools to help our kids. we work tirelessly as parents to teach our kids manners, how to be independent, how to succeed at school, but where are our efforts going to help our kids to be mentally healthy and to be aware of their mental health?

this past year, i found myself looking into a shallow part of a river. watching the enjoyment of normal activities. and then suddenly, i seem to have lost one of my kids. without my realization, they are going down a river that gets deeper and more swift. it's hard for me to understand because i am not where they are. i can't see the part of the river they are in, but it's deep. i know they need help but i can't see them. i have never been down this part of the river and i don't know how to get them out. and the thing is, i can try to pray away all the troubles i want to, but at the end of the day, i have to accept that i don't have what it takes to get to them. i don't have a road to access where they are, i don't have hedge trimmers big enough to clear the bushes. and so i have discovered that if i want to help them i have to find the people who have the know how to empower my child with the proper tools.

there is this part when you can't see where your child is heading that makes you feel loads, heaps, vast quantities of guilt. if i would have, if only i could have taken this sign back then, did i not do so and so well enough, did they always feel loved. all of these things taunt my thoughts mercilessly. and if we throw in the fact that i have been entirely out of commission from september to may 13, it doesn't ease my guilt, in fact,it significantly increases it.

but a break comes. in the form of a health provider taking control of the situation and really easing our burden. giving us direction and how to and making such a concerted effort to get us help. and then we realize the depth of what we are facing and our prayers are constant. they are earnest and a level of love and understanding opens.

i see that river and i am desperately chasing thick trees, deep water, and cries for help from the river's victim and this image hits me. if only i could elevate myself above it all, if only i could somehow get high enough above the river above the trees to give me a point of reference. and suddenly i realize, i can't but the power of a creator in his universe can. and the depth of the power washes over me. its a deeper understanding it seems has been on my heart lately. the power of a mighty god. it seems all of my reading and thoughts for some time have pointed to this and to the nothingness of me without it. the furious ways we try to constantly do for ourselves are purely in vain. when we embark on any endeavor on this earth and try to do it ourselves, we will come up deficient. all things point to christ and to an all powerful god. be still, and we will know that he is. to be still and to have the creations surrounding us testify is power that is beyond any love i have been able to give in this life. it seems to me that this power and love are intricately tied together and that maybe in this life, love is secondary to this power.

one of my favorite reads is by george ritchie. he was pronounced clinically dead for 9 minutes. the story is fascinating. return from tomorrow is the books name. as he chronicles his journey of being dead and the thoughts he goes thru without a physical body, he details the power of jesus christ. it hit me that his description is that the love he feels is almost without emotion but with power. it isn't anything he has to question, its a fact. he talks about seeing people in the afterlife, riddled with earthly addictions that heaven can't empower. tortured spirits desiring physical bodies to support earthly addiction. and yet. jesus christ surrounds them. they fail to look up. they don't open their heart to the light and love that is above them. when the author pens his feelings about this love, he describes it as a power that is beyond anything earthly.

when i take that account into thought and give it application to my circumstance, i feel this deep need for repentance. this deep need to forsake my instinct to do things on my own. to eliminate any circumstance that i wouldn't call on what is above me. as the book of mormon phrase i love states, "i would give away all my sins to know thee", it reminds me of the importance of forsaking that sinful need to do it on our own. i read that phrase years and years ago and was so touched by the power of it. daily i have taken to asking myself, what sins am i hanging on to today that have kept me from knowing him? the discovery of every facet of the sinfulness of man has really brought me to know and have abiding testimony of the power of what's above us and the sins we hang onto that prevent that power to aid us. as always, i am ever grateful for the opportunities that surround me that give me new understanding and allow me to love and be loved.

in the quiet

2015-04-24T11:49:00.000-07:00

my favorite indulgence besides partaking in something that goes into my mouth is being able to expand my mind thru books, conversation, or an outdoor setting. the last 9 months i have chosen to survive. that doesn't mean how i have done things is right or recommended, but its how i chose to do it. if i thought too much about what my day to day entailed, i would fall off the bandwagon. if i tried to plan anything i would only be severely disappointed by what my body was no longer capable of without severe consequence. if i put my faith in someone to finally let down and share my struggles, i would usually get my feelings hurt by their responses.

so,

i whittled my circles, my routine, my life. whittled it down to what i could manage until this baby came.

around christmas i had a few awesome weeks. only a few migraines, i was able to eat normally without hives or extreme gastric distress. the nausea and vertigo seemed to leave, slowly. we enjoyed christmas activities and i was able to cross things off my list. i was able to be excited about holding a baby and even thought about finding out the gender. then,

it went sour again.

amniotic fluid started to push at my insides like a balloon pushing full blast at my organs constantly. by 24 weeks i had a super scary incident that left me contracting for a 7 hour stretch that i could not stop. i am the queen at getting contractions to stop. my abdominal muscles were not stretching the way my body needed and there were about 2 chairs i could sit in without being brought to tears. my SI joints in my back were so inflamed, i limped/hobbled everywhere i would go. and then this strange pain started in my upper back. i waited too long to talk about it, thinking it was just another thing, and then we found out that some reflux turned into an ulcer that started bleeding. que anemia. and by 31 weeks i was at the bottom of a slippery slope. i would contract at the word "move" despite my arsenal of tricks. all i could do was to pray that my body could adjust. and here i sit at the cusp of 37 weeks, still here.

the hard things have let up. the ulcer is under control, a few adjustments from a chiropractor, despite scott's apprehension, have made a huge difference. my blood count is getting to where it needs to be to deliver a baby, and while the contractions aren't much better, i will take any ease i can get. and suddenly the dr. tells me, we need to make our plan. here are your limitations. too much fluid, the baby's head just won't stay down, much less engage in the birth canal. it's made your uterus a pancake shape. yes, contractions feel like those chubby, orange wizard of oz midgets hanging all over my middle swinging inside and out, i tell him. contracting with a transverse baby is torturous. so, he gives me some time. some time to consider what will be the best route that i am comfortable with. he also tells me not to worry, that's his job. and for the fourth time, it looks like a c-section is on the table. and i hope, for the fourth time, i will be able to avoid it. and so i have been quiet and prayerful.

the other day, i was able to cross some things off my list. whenever i have a good day, i go thru and prioritize with exactness what is most important. if i clean a certain area that has been bothering me, i have to automatically take myself out of the game if something else the kids need me for comes up. so most good days, i focus on making the house feel semi uncluttered, making the kids meals, and telling scott what i wish i could have accomplished, and like a super hero, he makes it happen, always. he also says he has arranged a vasectomy for the day i deliver because he will never watch me go thru this again. i can gather all the kids i want thru other means he says, but i will never be responsible for doing this to you again. and then i beg, please don't. let's not shut doors, and he laughs.

i was reading one of my favorite books for the umpteenth time in my life the other day. i was able to get a few pages in and then had to digest for a while. harper lee always boggles my mind. every time i read her prized and only published novel, i learn. to kill a mockingbird is my favorite self help book, my favorite parenting tool, my favorite to inspire routine and learning in my kids. i am amazed at the capacity atticus has as a single parent to be exactly what his kids need simply by being himself. he is always thoughtful and takes honest consideration to his kids requests. he doesn't dismiss them as children but rather his most prized stewardship without giving his kids a sense of indulgent entitlement. he loves they way they need it, he dismisses judgement of others and always shows respect. he is slow to judge, quick to accept, and always true to who he is. my goodness, i appreciate it. i admit to closing the pages a little quicker than i should because started to feel the need to reevaluate. have i stayed true to who i am while i have been in the thick of a thin thing? what rough edges have i let be knocked off, or, have i held on to my hard edges. have i been fighting change or the capacity to become better by only hanging in there and surviving. have i let my heart be still? sure, my body has had to be still, literally, but a heart and body that are still are two different things. a still body has been necessity and ultimately, someone else's life is depending on my body being still. but my heart.

in my need to numb up to get thru, i fear that my heart has been still and hard instead of soft and still. i have been afraid to let a lot of things in for a plethora of reasons. i have never been in a survival mode this extreme before.

i was called to jury duty yesterday. it happens whenever my belly is bulging or i am nursing a newborn. every time i have escaped with my number not being called up, but yesterday, despite my telling them of my predicament, my number was called in to report for a jury. it also happened to fall on the day of my neighbor's funeral. well, neighbor is a technical term. he was first a friend, living in close proximity to his family and vast array of animals is only a bonus. i thought for sure, the county clerk would take one look at my phenomenon of a belly and dismiss me at once. instead, i was grilled in a room full of 50-60 other people, quietly filling out their questionnaire. how far along am i, how many contractions have i had in the past day, how much pain am i in. i was mortified. i have a disorder on a large scale that hates having attention in any shape. once the bishop had to say my name over the pulpit and my face turned hot and my heart raced like daytona and fluid leaked out the holes on my face without me having control. scott always has to whisper, breathe heidi, you are going to pass out. i don't know why its painful, but its a real thing. so my tears were brimming as the torture continued and i just don't cry unless its in a pulpit setting and i testify of the things i know. so as every strangers eyes are on me, i waddle over to a chair to start my 10 pages of questions regarding my opinions on lawsuits. i can't even remember my opinions on toilet paper anymore much less questions of deep moral absolutes. plus i can't see because there is moisture coming out every part of my head and i am contracting about every 4-6 minutes. i finish, leave, and sobs creep out as i exit the building. i am not excused and have to report back at 1:30. i will miss the funeral.

i cry the whole way home. i walk in the door looking 75 years old, with puffiness and wrinkles i have not earned thru a well lived life but thru crumbling. scott has magically had the day off, which is not normal and obviously a tender mercy. i sob the predicament to him and he is unsure how to act. i have not made tears like this a normal appearance in our marriage until this pregnancy. maybe it is age. i go upstairs and try to get under control and then i pray. please help me to be okay with however this day turns out. if there is any way i can go to this funeral, please intervene. and then the clock ticks and as we are starting to check kids out of school so they can make the funeral and i have given up hope for miracles, and the phone rings. the county clerk has got me excused from jury duty. my tears and puffiness then feel purely grateful and full of testimony that he knows the hairs on my head and the new found puff around my eyes.

i can't say what one pull it was to get to this funeral, mostly it was on account that there were so many reasons. ron brown was a man that you only come across once in your life and will never meet again. he played a large role in my brothers life as cameron was considered the fourth brown son on many hunting excursions. many times he was a constant with them on adventures across the vast expanse of the rocky mountains. i have always known and loved the family and then we moved by them when we were newlyweds. we haven't moved too far since then and have had the privilege to be loved by this family in a most tender way as neighbors. sundays soon meant a hug and kiss on the head from ron and high praise on my behalf, always undeserved i have to insert. we once asked him if he could bring a little display for our cub scouts for the annual blue and gold banquet that was themed "cowboy" and he brought the whole farm. he set up a fence in the church, brought exotic animals and taught those scouts how to wrangle an animal proper. i have never seen greater pride from boy scout eyes with their new found confidence. this was no small feat for ron and his bride as he was in the midst of chemo. they went above and beyond. ron brown was a cowboy. he was famous for his way with animals, sharing his talents with hollywood and the LDS church movie productions. his life was extended and his animals were used in all of the new bible films and other new church movie endeavors. his son at the service yesterday said ron had a talent of communicating spirit to spirit and that's why he had such a way with animals and people alike. you knew he loved you when you were around him. my brother wrote a classic tribute to ron that was read at the funeral yesterday. after i added to the puffiness of my face thru that funeral, it became abundantly clear to me why i needed to be there. it was like ron cementing his contribution of influence to my life.

who we are in this life is enough. all of us have a ron brown, atticus finch quality about us and its enough. every person is unique, its our divine inheritance. it has to do with an all powerful god and the things he puts in his universe. it's enough to make and keep friends, its enough to keep relationships alive in rough spots. its enough to raise kids and its enough to do good in the world. its enough that we can abandon our tendencies to compare and embrace our opportunity to discover that unique divinely inherited quality of every person we come across.

my greatest discovery in this parenting journey is that we are not the sculptors of our children, but the receivers of discovering who they are. we do not get to dictate who they are by shaping and molding clay but discover the masterpiece they come to us as. this has freed the guilt i indulge in sometimes when i feel that little voice tell me i am not enough and certainly not good enough to keep bringing kids in to an imperfect mess.

and so my excitement rises as we are in the homestretch of this hard thing, ever grateful for the unique circumstance of having a due date. rarely in this life do we have due dates from the hard things, i am appreciating every ounce of that. and i can't wait for heaven and earth to meet so that we can reunite with a spirit who has always been connected and loved by us.

dont pick it up

2014-11-19T12:51:00.001-08:00

i mentioned in my previous post that i was able to attend sabbath worship on sunday. this is an event that has been rare for me since early september due to our surprise. i don't know if i have ever had to miss too much due to pregnancy woes, but remember, i am old. i am a 35 year old woman with a full uterus and my glory, the 20's were meant for child bearing.

i was able to go to church. miracle. and the thing is i have been praying for for a while are that life would slow down and i would be able to plug in. i feel like we run, run, run. i am in charge of a schedule that has to be perfected with all of the obligations, events, and talents we are trying to cram into this busy season of life. i have longed for days with babies on my lap where our outing for the day was a walk around the block, a few good books, a close examination of the best afternoon snack, and devotion to a punctual, flawless bedtime routine. it has all been replaced with choosing the best things, priority given to each child's most earnest desire to nurture one specific talent at a time, and then - fitting in regular family things.

but i have stewed and worried about a baby fitting in with our madness. is it healthy, wise, fair to a baby? god has a funny way of calming troubled hearts.

there is nausea, Nausea, and then NAUSEA. I mean, i have had some. but this time. i had SOME. and i could hide it okay the first 6-7 weeks as long as no one was breathing within a 20 foot radius, or as long as no one had used an offensive hand soap, or...... well, you get the picture. and then the migraines started. and it's mostly a convoluted, long tale that i am glad is lifting but it was 5 weeks in a dark room eating apples and carrots. and a dark room would get the best of anyone after a while. there is a sinking despair when your most earnest prayer is for there to be a cloudy day so you can go downstairs and avoid where sun creeps thru certain rooms. and there is also some part where hope gets lost. early on, there were a few weekends spent down because it looked like i was loosing the baby. the doctors nurse was kind and gentle, offering to have me come up and have some blood tested or an ultrasound performed. but when i thought it thru, i knew that none of those things would save a pregnancy. so i prayed that if my body was able, this pregnancy could be saved. and that's when the migraines started. which translates to a significant shift in hormone production in my case, the very thing i needed. it's often interesting how the very things that seem to try us the most are the answers to our hearts desire.

in a dark room for a long time it wouldn't surprise anybody to think that i got nutty. i lost any social confidence i had (which isn't measured on any large scale to begin with), i became sad, depressed, emotional, and susceptible to immense negativity. i felt like everything was stripped away and worried that i would be locked up until spring. i lost my umph. i usually have enough umph and excitement about certain things for 3 people, but it was gone. my heart was so heavy. i felt myself slipping into a place with walls so high i couldn't see.

but then there was this small prayer that i could be normal, that a part of me could return.

i was sitting in a pew sunday when the speaker was reading an excerpt from the Chris Williams story: Let it go: A true story of Tragedy and Forgiveness. (there is a wonderful mormon message clip on it, or there is a book) he had just read Chris's reaction to feeling that his wife and unborn child had been killed, his other child in the back seat had been killed, but the child directly behind him was going to live. he described receiving the knowledge as factual versus emotional. then his eyes rested on the car in front of him that was tipped upside down. the one that had just struck his car at a high rate of speed, head on, killing all of these people, the driver in a drunken haze. he describes this voice as the voice of the savior, and it said, don't pick it up, let it go.

i have heard this story over and over. and over and over. it is an incredibly powerful story. i don't think any one person would say they are exempt from having thoughts of this scenario being their worst case.

and the thing that hit me the most was if this was the worst case, the worst possible event that anyone could imagine happening and the advice from a loving savior was to let it go, not to pick it up, why on this earth do i waste time everyday picking things up? if i really know that jesus christ has atoned for my sins, if i really know that he went to gethsemane and forged a new heart, specifically for me, plowing thru every emotion, trial, burden i will ever feel, and felt it, but without sin for me, why do i pick up meaningless things daily that forge a sinful heart? why do i pick things up that cause me to judge others, harness anger, and the like?
the other part that was so profound to me was that we have a choice. even though we do have a way paved individually to rid us from the burdens of picking things up, we can choose not to pick it up and to let it go. that doesn't mean we will be exempt from the healing of gethsemane, it just means we can progress spiritually at a rate that increases knowledge versus carrying things around that profoundly diminish progression.

i sat with tears brimming in my eyes, spilling over as this all sunk in. and then, i prayed. really, sincerely prayed that i could remember this. that it would penetrate my heart, my thoughts, my actions, my attitude. i knew that the way the story struck me was my personal revelation. my days have been filled with the thought over and over, heidi, don't pick it up. the thoughts that have seemed to cripple me are met with, let it go.

i got sick last night. it was a rough day. the NAUSEA was unpleasant, a migraine hit me right as we were to leave to cheer easton on at one of his last basketball games. i was quick to pick up the thoughts that have been ruining me, but quicker to say, this too shall pass, don't pick it up. and i did. and today, it's a bit rough too. the day after those hard ones always feel unsettling but my heart, it's full of gratefulness that i can let it go. that i can choose not to pick it up. and suddenly, i know my prayer is answered and i am plugged in.

surprise

2014-11-17T10:15:00.002-08:00

i am performing my semi annual blogging duties here.

my absolute favorite series of books are the Sarah Agnes Prine series. the first book is "these is my words". i read the series at least once a year. i always learn something about myself between the lines. i love the years her house becomes so bustling with children that her entries are sporadic and feel busy. i have given myself some leniency with the details of our lives when i know we are hard at work living and bustling.

there seems a golden point in parenting when all kids do not need monitoring revolving around bodily functions. there is some amount of freedom and a sense of arrival, if you will, once this occurs. there are four people we have monitored thru physical need and you think, maybe we are done. well, at our house, one spouse was praying we were done. and for a few years i had to be okay with that even though i knew we were not. bringing it up caused some tension. i also knew that i didn't want to wait too long. let's be honest, i am a short person and carrying large babies has posed some physical challenges for me. i knew aging anymore would not contribute to helping any infirmity.

last year, i prayed really hard that if we were supposed to have another baby, that the unnamed spouse would be filled with a knowledge that this person was a part of our family and that we needed to make it happen. i prayed and had faith that it would happen because i just know these things. i was however concerned that i would be strong arming someone if i put pressure on or guilt. so i was quiet. absolutely silent about it but i kept praying. within a few months that redhead came home from a temple trip and he knew. he knew and he was happy about it which was the part i had forgot to add in to my prayer, it was a bonus. he was ready. ready for a baby, he knew like i did, what kind of a baby it would be and how crucial this person was to our progression. but i was not quite ready. because...

girls like me dont get to plan due dates, dont get to gather excitement about pregnancy. girls like me have to prepare for disappointment, time passing, accepting whatever due date that comes, and building emotional walls to prepare for the disappointment. so, i said to scott, all my married days i have longed for a baby in may. a baby born when RSV is dead and allergy season is over. when the kids are out of school and carpools and extra curriculars are over. when the germs gathered at school cant come home for three months and when everyone is home to drink up a baby. when our only job is to lounge poolside with snacks and shade and sun and memories.

and he said okay. lets try for a may baby.

so, we waited a bit and i started building the walls. not thinking about anything baby. guarding myself against any cute baby, equipment, clothing, bumps, all of it - i shut it out. and to replace it, i started a cake business. because that's what any normal, logical person would do. they would immerse themselves in baking for days on end, for birthdays, brides, family parties, and the like.

but then,

there comes a surprise. and there's a may baby. due the week school gets out. and i know, this is meant to be. and i can't help but get weepy most days.

it's been hard. i have known sickness i never knew was possible. there is no longer a cake business. instead, there is this part of my heart that is full and the funny thing is, i never knew it was empty. the house is dirty and my husband is exhausted. he is doing it all right now. but, things are looking up. i went to church for three hours yesterday and it required no pill. i completed what was asked of me. i worshipped, i partook, i felt this burning in my heart and i thought to myself - welcome to the second trimester.

for kyle

2014-10-25T14:19:00.000-07:00

in a little over a week, my baby brother enters a new phase in life. he follows mormon tradition and says, i beleive now i will go and do. he has been called to serve an lds mission to the people of mexico.

the older i get, loving two little boys of my own, the thought of missions always hit me different/harder. it's a little more emotional for me thinking of what it entails to send a boy off in the world on his own, using every skill you have ever taught him, to survive in the world.

i only lived with kyle for 4 years before i was married, so our normal family connection is a little different. my kids however, look to him like a sibling and i appreciate that on every level. he has been glue for our family, the late in life baby that garnered a whole lot of looks my parents direction as my mom was 38 when she had him. he was the best decision they made. he is such a good, focused person. he works hard, he is a stoic person. he does what is asked of him and he does it well. i hope my kids know its because he "knows".

i know that he knows who god is. kyle is coming out of his shell, leaving all comforts of the youngest child, essentially the only child the past few years, the comforts of a first world country, because he has put the effort into cultivating a relationship with god and that gives him enough strength to share with others what he knows.

it's not just about god either. if we know god, we know that jesus christ is the way. sometimes the world suggests we "find jesus" as if he is something only a few will find. if only the world knew what sheri dew stated: "jesus christ is not our last chance, he is our only chance. he will show us the way because he is the way." our achieving an eternal reward will not be by the skin of our teeth as my mom always tells me. our eternal measure will be fulfilled by abounding grace and mercy. abounding.

there will always be apostacy. it makes my heart hurt but i am no stranger to it. utah mormons are always shocked when we tell of the amount of apostacy we saw at an ivy league university. the reasons for abandonment were no small feats. there were facts/reasons/books/knowledge that took years to accumulate. people can throw away a lifetime of god's love by hanging themselves up on the smallest detail. the smallest. it becomes obsessive and a lifetime of anger, frustration, and hurt gets thrown at the very thing that heals. the very peace of life is cast aside due to brewing anger that isn't extinguished thru the merits and mercy of him who can heal.

we are all on spiritual journeys here on earth whether we acknowledge it or not. we are progressing towards god or we are not. either direcion is crucial for our eternal destiny. how do i know that the way the LDS church does things are the dictates that mandate heavens entry? my life has been layers of confirmation and also times of doubt, frustration, and self inflicted darkness. i have found that our bodies are meant to worship. i believe that is how god created us. the mountains beckon awe, seasons encourage deep emotional stirring-a need for connection. the order of god's creations suggest his ways are ones of process, journey, struggle, growth but above all order. our body's need to worship can be tilted either way. worshippers of self, pride, world, money, intellect, imagery, materialism, intellectualism, can feel just as fulfilled/justified in life as those who choose to direct their worship to god. i believe in satan. he is just as real to me as god's abounding love. he also begs for our natural ways of worship. so many times he wins.

i was listening to one of my favorite talks a few weeks ago by henry b eyring and one thing that stuck out to me this particular time was when he said - "if the foundation of faith is not embedded in out hearts, the power to endure will crumble." i needed to hear that so i could know where to draw from. i was struggling with enduring, hope, faith. i think it's a daily struggle for anyone caught in the thick of thin things. i appreciated that line. my foundation is embedded, i just needed to remember that. and because of it, i can endure. it's that simple.

so kyle, this is what i know. i see the creations under his direction and i know that there is a way to him that entails order, direction, work, and love. his plan is perfect, and because we are not, there is no road/journey/belief that his plan can not find a place for. every detail of our lives have been accounted for so that we can return with him. there is no struggle, doubt, pain, wrong, loneliness he did not account for and it's because he wants every one of us. every single body he gave life to, he wants returned. he longs for that parental love returned in order and worship, respect and understanding by us.

now, go and do. find and serve, our knees our bent on your behalf. loves.

hanakapi'ai falls trail

2014-02-03T17:35:00.002-08:00

there comes a time in every couple's marriage when they get the green light feeling that they can travel together and their hearts won't burst from missing their kids and their bank wont weep for a year from the cost.

it happened to us.

it was brilliant, wonderful, amazing, and fantastic.

hawaii it was. oahu and kauai.

we went with some dear friends, and of course thru the course of the trip they became more dear. traveling with loved ones deepens bonds.

i went for the beach. i went because my soul craves taking in god's creations. that sounds gummy and so forth, but deep inside me i don't crave adventure or thrill seeking activities. they are fine and i don't mind them, but i don't seek them. i seek out the opportunities to be still and know god and i find that the earth's beauty is essential in that endeavor.

oahu was filled with non-stop activity. we were tourists, taking in every sight possible. while i could chronicle all of the activities, the two that were the best for me were taking in the north shore swells that were something for the record books and waikiki beach. we were able to sit behind yellow caution tape and watch the waves. it was purely magnificent and healing. the waves were beyond description and i kept thinking how lovely it was that we were taking in the north shore at such a rare time and with such power and force. as we made our way around the island we hopped out of the car and walked to the laie lds temple. all temples are special but i had a moment as i walked with my friend in front of the grounds where i could see everyone i loved in white. the two of us were quiet for a moment as we were taking in the smells, the scenes, the peacefulness and we both commented to one another that this was celestial material. feeling loved and seeing beauty has to be of heavenly merit.

we finally squeezed in a few hours on waikiki beach which was so refreshing. we saw sea turtles, skin that should have been covered, obscene exercise routines, inside jokes were born and the like.

we all knew that when we went to kauai it was about living like a local. we were somewhat true to that. there were some touristy things that we indulged in everyday for the thrill seekers in the group but my lazy hawaiian beach dreams were fulfilled. we stayed on the north side in the hanalei bay area. i have never in all my life seen such beauty. to sit at a beach with a mountainous back drop, waterfalls pouring off every cliff, and waves crashing all around, it was profoundly spiritual for me. the first beach we were at i had hours of spiritual awakening. it was like all the funk and fog of daily things lifted and those quiet whisperings were suddenly the new volume in my head. scott was back and forth snorkeling with his buddies. i had quiet moments of deep reflection. i love taking the chance to be still and see god. scriptural phrases poured thru my head the whole time that helped me get a re-charge and perspective that only a mother can appreciate.

the trip wasn't about escaping my daily duties or drudgery, it was about taking a second to re-group and re-charge, figure out where my marriage is, where my spirit's progression stands, and how i am doing at fulfilling my responsibilities to the four souls who claim me.

it was laced with laughing, and bonding, eating, and beach comparison.

one of the days i gave in to the busy ness of vacationing and submitted to a hike. a secret amazing beach, a waterfall you can swim under were the enticing words that got me. i would surrender to some physical work to see that. i pictured a blue lagoon greeting us with a mild jaunt up a mountain.

the previous night greeted us with a horrific rain storm. it howled all night, took out roads with the precipitation, and made some of the crossings impossible.

to get to the halfway point of the waterfall, we had to cross a fairly deep river. at one point because of the rain it was so deep some hikers were stranded overnight and had to wait to cross the swift waters. we happened upon the major crossing right as it was deemed passable. i traveled with tall people on this trip and water that was mid thigh for them was waist deep for me, making it trickier to cross such an angry water passage. the men were great and formed a human chain and pulled me along. once we crossed we realized we were out of cell phone range, it might start raining again which would complicate the waterway to get back, and we were running out of daylight and water. we quickened the pace so that we wouldn't have to add our marks to the board marking the fatalities on the hike. (there were 82)

we passed thru amazing bamboo jungles and terrain that was breath taking. some of it was lost on me as i didn't like taking the chances we were taking to see the waterfall. i have a very black and white personality and i really struggle with grey areas. as a woman who was being missed by four little people in utah, i felt like there was a definite risk of being stranded and loosing the feeling of vacation. we were loosing daylight and almost completely out of water. we started to loose the trail due to the large volumes of water pouring all around us. soon we had to start looking for things to help us decipher if we were on the right path. we had heard from so many people about this amazing hike and no one described to us what we were encountering. suddenly we realized there were pink ribbons tied along trees. they were trail markers. that's when we realized how much the rain had distorted the trail. the actual trail itself was comprised mostly of rock and dirt making the trail slick and muddy. we finally neared the top, feeling this exuberant, triumphant feeling only to be greeted with what i can describe as the force of a helicopter in front of us. the waterfall was overflowing with water and wind, showing it's power and authority. the water bouncing off the fall had us all covered and soaked in five minutes flat. one person tried to swim and the temperature was too cold. two others attempted it and could only dunk their heads quickly before retreating. i had to stand with my back to it as the force was taking my breath away. we couldn't snap any pictures of our accomplishment because the water would have ruined our cameras. we left quickly, defeated. our end reward wasn't at all what we had hoped for. it was too much to take in and enjoy.

the entire hike there were scriptural phrases coming in and out of my mind and i was being taught. i left the waterfall totally depleted of the excitement i had built up. my build up and hype was that it would be quiet and still. i thought about how that hike was so similar to trials, life's journey, and so on. our choices put us on paths that may be the same trail as others, but the lord has to power to shape the trail just for us. our hike was a bi-polar experience to everyone else's who had been on it. we saw the same fall but it was magnified. we had to work harder getting there, take more risk to do it, but essentially our destination was the exact same as everyone else's who had done it. i thought about the past twelve months we have been thru. i signed up to be a mom but i don't recall asking for torrential rain. my path felt so flooded this past year. i felt like i was on a trail that was going to wash out at any point because it seemed beyond what i could handle. but, i had pink ribbons all along the way telling me i was where i needed to be. we were doing what we needed to to finish the hike, to conquer the trial. when we got to the point that was the hardest with easton, we were exhausted and deflated, the final summit left us feeling weary and weak.

at the end of the trail there was some sense of accomplishment. our physical efforts left our bodies feeling weak but there was a sense of completion, we finished what we came to do. i also felt like at the end of our trial this year that it was important not to lament on the downward part of the resolution. sometimes i have the tendency to got caught up in the sheer exhaustion of the trial, having a hard time giving it up, lamenting of the "hard" nature of it. it's important to get off the trail or trial. be ready for something else, ready for the next one.

i also thought about that hike in another way. i thought about how life's journey is only meaningful when we are on a path. if we stand at the trail head simply waiting for something, we never get to experience the good and the bad that adam and eve taught us about. i thought about how important our time on this earth is. every choice, action, reaction is crucial. we are in a testing period that we can never get back. the end reward is going to be so much more than we can imagine. sometimes life just seems like a simple hike, a jaunt if we listen to the account of others instead of engaging and finding out for ourselves. somehow the thought struck me that the magnitude of celestial glory or heavenly reward will be just as powerful as that massive waterfall. so much more than we can imagine or take in with our limited vision. the things that wait to award climbing trails laden with torrents and floods are more powerful than we can comprehend.

today is monday. monday after vacation is like eating purple poi, slimy, goopy, not desirable. and so, i will dream of ways to get back to tropical paradise and remember to take the trail/trials with grateful hearts.

is there such thing as Santa?

2013-12-05T09:32:00.000-08:00

this is a post wherein i validate children all over.

this story will take us back to the years of 2004-2006. the mckay's lived in the ghetto otherwise known as new haven, ct. we lived on the campus of yale university. in our 4-plex there was a wide diversity of the world represented in a small colonial building. the italians lived across from us. she was an artist, he was the stay at home dad with their son theodore. katarina and angel (he was a man and it was pronounced anyel) were from spain and they had two daughters whose names escape me. the people above us were a family from korea. they had lived at yale in the tiny apartment for 9 years. he was getting his PhD in religious studies. they had three children. we got along great. koreans in general are polite, well behaved, socially aware of their own behavior and actions. their middle child, alex, however, in public often overstepped his bounds. his mom only let him interact with other children outdoors, rarely indoors. our apartments were so tiny that he rarely came over. there were a few occasions where they came over, once when they got locked out of the apartment and the campus police took three hours to respond and then in the depths of winter, he was at our house once. and it was the once you don't forget.

he was in awe of the toys at someone else's house, the food at someone else house, the movies we watched were different, it was a cultural thing mostly.

somehow the topic of holidays came up between him and grayce. i think grayce was around 4, and easton almost 2. alex, in his little korean accent spills to grayce the following:

alex: grayce, there is no santa claus. it is your parents. they go to wal-mart. they buy everything for you there. it is not santa. there is no easter bunny, there is none of that, it is ALL from the store.

grayce: well what about the the valentine's chicken? does he come to your house?!?!

alex: what?!?! the valentine's chicken? what does he bring you?

grayce: (she showed him her recent haul from our tradition) he comes and knocks on your door and runs away. he leaves you all this stuff of your doorstep for valentine's day. if you believe, it's real.

alex: oh man,..... (he stomps off angrily up the stairs)

i have always told my kids when they asked about the existence of magical traditions that as long as you believe, magic exists.

and i believe that.

as long as you believe, there is magic. i will never dispel, i will never bear any bad news, there will never be a talk.

magic happens when you believe, even a valentine's chicken.

ramble

2013-11-21T08:40:00.001-08:00

there was a situation that needed to be taken care of for a while and it had to do with my female body parts not wanting to cooperate. this is a situation i have dealt with for 19 years now. 18 years ago was my first surgery to remove the devil they named endometriosis. and while it's not the worst thing to happen it sure is not convenient. i went under the knife in October to have the stuff removed, again. this time it was causing the strangest symptoms. like i thought i had neck problems for a year and tried every chiropractor/massage/MRI/steroids solution possible. and then i get referred to a specialist and he's like, hey you have endo growing on your diaphragm and that causes your neck to hurt, and let's take your appendix out because you have cysts rupturing on your right ovary and the statistics aren't in your favor of keeping the appendix happy while that business goes on. and i say, hey specialist, there are some other pains going on and they are strange so how about you investigate.

and so he does. and i wake up from surgery and no one looks at me sorrowful in the recovery before i can hear what i lost and what they found so i figure i will live. the report is that the endo was growing everywhere it could but not on my uterus and ovaries and that's a warm fuzzy. but also, an irritant. lucky am i because i have four kids and that is always an impossibility if this stuff attacks your major female parts. irritating because it causes the most awful pain and makes me think my necks a mess, i have weeds growing in my colon, my leg has a blood clot every month, and my ovaries could spontaneously com bust at any point.. good news, he burned the heck out of the enemy. only, it has kind of made everything worse and apparently it takes a while to heal and that was not on my planner. so there is this funk and mist that makes me cry when i can't do normal things or go a day without having to lay down. i think somewhere i read that that is not allowed if you are the mother.

and so days pass and i am "recovering" which involves everyone to constantly ask "how are you", "you don't look so good" and the like.

and i have come to a moral issue. i don't feel good most of the time now while my burns heal up and all, but man i don't want people knowing about it. i want to feel alive again. i want to forget about how torturous i feel and how hopeless it feels to think i might feel like this forever/another day. but when someone can see on your face that you had a rough night that required medication, i don't want to lie. and so...

when the bishopric asked me if i would make breakfast for our ward christmas party in two weeks, i knew that god loves me. because really, i am mostly on invalid status as a mormon for a while. the relief society sometimes gets involved to help and that makes me feel real bad about what it's all come down to. but god, he knows me. he knows that while i don't have a lot of strengths of offer my LDS ward congregation, i can feed them. i know how to make a lot of tummies gathered at a ward house happy. and, i like doing it. he knows that for some reason, i took to the kitchen. i developed a talent as a young mother on a tight budget and i also developed a talent of recognizing how much god loves seeing us eat a meal together. how when there is a plate of food before us that someone filled with love and time, relationships are strengthened. you feel loved as you partake of good food. and god knew that i needed to be taken off the invalid list. when i was asked, i had been on my third sleepless/tear filled night because the recovery isn't complete. but when i was asked, i was able to ignore that misery better on behalf of my ward members breakfast needs. i was giddy thinking of a menu ALL BY MYSELF! the most tortured part of serving as a mormon is sometimes you have to have your rough edges knocked off by serving on food committees and that always opens it up to opinion. i get to say what, how, and they even let me choose the when (time of the party)! now, those are circumstances that will facilitate healing.

also, my mother helped me come up with a purpose to gathering for breakfast. we will fill trailers up with food for the local food bank. she was able to go to the facility and make a goal to help them no matter what! so we will ask our neighbors to help and bring a can of food and come share a meal. it will make christmas creep into all of our hearts and for sure heal wounds of many shapes and sizes.

old and young with a tale of football inbetween

2013-09-24T10:42:00.001-07:00

this boy here to my right but your left is my youngest sibling. he is kyle and i am a fan. this is us watching a sunset together at bear lake 1 year ago. we both had sweet sunglasses and my sister in law documented it, thanks ash. i was a junior in high school when he was born and he was the cutest baby you have ever seen, minus the part where he was always vomiting. always. every morning before school, someone would have to go round up a new shirt if they held kyle. he has played a good caboose to our family. he is tough, and fun, and funny, and a superstar uncle.

in the summer of 2012 he decided to take up football. he is a generally athletic kid and his cousin ben was playing. he had never played on a football team before but he is a hard worker, really hard worker and he has some serious determination.

i mentioned in my last post how it turns out he can play, well too.

last friday we were at the football game. we watched good old weber high crush viewmont. crush them. the quarterback had 3 running touchdowns. kyle played hard but we noticed they were giving other players some time to get experience on the field. fourth quarter came around and sure enough, the whole night kyle was wide open for a pass every play. we all wondered and waited to see if he would get the chance, the kid is a speed demon.

the perfect strike came. he caught it and ran 35 yards. there were two players from the opposing team waiting for him as he scored that touchdown. they crushed him. he went down so hard and even though it's football, it was mean to tackle someone after they made a touchdown. especially my little brother. he was down and didn't move. instantly, the umpires started waving their hands frantically. the EMT's were instantly called onto the field. my kids were scattered all over the stadium with friends. scott ran down immediately as we thought it was a head and neck injury. then, my parents were fetched by screaming girls. i rushed down to the field as the stretcher was rolling onto the field.

my dad starts hearing the crowd chant, get up kyle mcfarlane over and over.

as i get down there, he is whooping and hollering and his arm is in a sling. that boy broke his arm as he was tackled down.

his version of the story is when he saw them coming to tackle him he closed his eyes and misjudged how close he was to the ground. as he was on the ground, the ump says to him - sweet touchdown. kyle's response was- thanks, i broke my arm.

that's why it was sheer panic instantly.

kyle didn't cry. well, until coach hammer came up to the hospital and delivered the game ball to kyle. offensive player of the week. and he teared up when he realized he wouldn't be playing in the homecoming game.

it took 12 screws to put both broken bones back together. and the PA assisting the case felt bad because almost everyone assisting in the surgery had been at the game and were a buzz with the sweet play.

some funny things that have to be documented.

as i got down on the field i could see kyle was going to be fine. his coping mechanism was humor. he is a stoic kid. quiet. but that night, he was cracking everyone up. his cousin ben, was above him on a crane videoing for the team. ben and kyle have been inseparable since birth and ben broke his collar bone the week before the football season started and was out. so, he films for the team. ben watched kyle's body on the ground and thought he was dead. until kyle yelled up to ben,- next week, me and you buddy! we are up there together. kyle instantly knew he was out for the season.

he was so upset when he realized they had stopped the game to get him taken care of. he was yelling - drag me off, drag me off, keep playing! as he realized we were all pretty shaken up, he yelled, let me give a wave to the crowd, let me wave. and that he did.

his buddy jaden was lifted by his helmet by the defensive coach and told rather vulgarly to kill viewmont's offense for kyle.

in the ER, he had everyone in stitches. scott went with my parents to the hospital to be the support and i thought that was appropriate as when people caring for you have a connection, they make sure things go more smoothly. scott knew almost everyone caring for kyle that night. the big rivalry game of BYU vs. UTAH was the next day and scott, kyle and easton had tickets. kyle found out which team the surgeon was cheering for (utah), and as he walked in the room to consult, kyle started sing/shouting: rise and shout, the cougars are out!! the ER doc happened to be the surgeon's bishop, and that always gives you a warm fuzzy that they were working together.

this picture appeared in the newspaper on the front page of the sports section a few weeks ago. kyle made a touchdown and it was amazing. easton mckay almost piddled his pants to see his uncle on the front page of the sports section the next morning. easton has been an avid newspaper reader since the beginning of kindergarten (his teacher suggested challenging him with big words, it's kind of like a religion now).

this was another great shot.

i have pondered all of this. the why, the how. this kid has put his heart into something that he now has to stand back silently and watch knowing he is capable of performing. the team is slated to possibly be in play offs of some sort which is huge for weber high. and then part of me hopes my sons see that if you play football you will get your arm broken. cause, shoot. every time someone goes down, my heart palpitates abnormally and i feel like we are watching brutal carnage on a field with someones baby boy. but then, there's that thing about doing hard things in life. about having a good attitude with the cards your are dealt. about not being able to change a thing. my wise friend often stated, everything is as it should be. and now, he is in a different kind of sport. the kind that is quiet and unnoticed. his cousin ben has been engaged in it for two months. he sits at every practice, every single team meeting, every game on the sidelines. he videos the games so the team can see where they need to improve. that is not playing sports, that is called being a sport. that is hard, and that is the refiners fire. it's grueling mentally and physically, wanting to play but not being physically able to. how lucky is kyle to have a buddy who has gone before him? i can only imagine the conversations that will take place on the large crane overlooking the field. and we will cheer for the film crew and not miss a game and be proud that kyle and ben are doing hard things.

new

2013-08-26T10:16:00.000-07:00

there are 49 pages i could fill with words to describe the last two weeks of my life but that's drawn out and long.

easton had a parasite. had. that means he is 100% normal. his pain scale went from a 5-6 everyday to a 3 within two hours of the medication. by 48 hours, he was a 0. i won't go in to the details of how it came to light or how we figured it out, but it was one of the hardest parenting situation i have had to watch. i have never seen a body so tortured. and then at the same time, it was a miracle. and no doctor can explain it to us nor has anyone been able to identify what type of parasite it was (the lab tried for a week) but it doesn't matter. eosinophils spike when you have an intestinal infection, prednisone makes that number go down, hence why we thought we were making headway with the course of action. the crazy diet? most likely unnecessary. the steroids that made him so ill and changed his physical appearance, probably unnecessary. the faith and testimony that are under all of us after learning patience, love, trust, becoming a strong family, they were all necessary.

healthy easton had a lot of words and information build up in his body for five months and now it is spilling out at a rapid speed. we have established a no talking rule after 8pm. my head is tired.

ella started a chinese immersion program. ella now hates the chinese people, language, food, dragons, and life in general. it was a chain of miraculous events that she was able to get into the program and i felt a jolt and overwhelming rush of heaven sent energy that ella mckay needs to know mandarin chinese. but i have spent the last two weeks on my knees watching my confident, happy, little girl turn into an angry asian hating gal. scott and i had a moment where we talked for hours, and cried and talked some more about it. we knelt to pray that night and he looked at me and said," what's our decision? we need to make the decision and pray that it's the right one." i told him that what she was supposed to do had been conveyed to me, we need to pray that her heart will soften and that her tongue will be loosed and that the anger will be replaced with love."

the next morning, she walked in her classroom. we didn't have to hang out in the car crying to find her courage for an hour. she gave me the thumbs up after one minute which meant she earned two points. we have a large poster up on our board called the chinese loving chart. there are no more sparkly things left in the town. we own them all and ella earns them with the points she accumulates for our chinese loving chart. she gives out cards with her name and number on them so that she can make some new friends because a new school is scary. and, those cards are worth one point each if she passes them out. we have had no phone calls yet, but this week, i can feel it, it will happen. and yesterday during sacrament meeting, my father in law snatched up her paper she was drawing. it was a picture of a girl with all chinese characters above it. not only does it make me happy, but those characters are so dang pretty, i feel like she is an artist. and also, this language immersion program has made me change my mind about punishing a kid under 5 years old. because one day i had to ask her chinese teacher something and the thing is, they don't speak english. and so i didn't understand anything she was telling me and my cheeks got hot and i wanted to spit, cry, hit and scream. so now i understand the behavior of all children everywhere and it is merely a language situation and never will i get upset with a kid under five for not doing what i say lickety split.

also, my daughter grayce, she turned 12. and she is suddenly a woman and she is confident and wore a duck dynasty shirt the first day of seventh grade, bypassing all of the other fancy shirts we bought. and it reminds me of the time in second grade she wrote a song in duck for the talent show (she has a killer duck call that comes from her mouth) and when the teacher asked her to translate it in english, she did. and it reminds me that she has more confidence in herself than i ever did. she makes no apologies, watch out. she also started wearing make up and suddenly, the dynamics around here have changed. because when i went to back to school night with her and she introduced herself, her teachers asked who her parents were. most likely, they taught scott and i and their cheeks turned red because they were teaching second generations. and because i feel mostly like i have not been able to give my other kids sufficient attention with the running back and forth to health institutions, i threw her a nice birthday bash. we had a delicious dinner, a fantastic two tier yellow cake i made, and we did facials, nails, and watched pee-wee's big adventure. i told all 14 girls that this was cinema at its finest and large marge was the pioneer for special effects in movies today. they weren't as impressed as i had hoped for but it was a fantastic night.

my new normal includes all day with a two year old who is turning three soon and only goes on the potty when he wants a starburst. and because of the aforementioned language thing, i am just fine with that. i am not lonely enough to beg scott mckay to take his baby locks off his baby door yet but it will probably come sooner than later. and also, something fantastic has happened to rowan. he now will watch tv. this is miraculous on many levels because it's consuming him and yesterday he saw the number eight and said out loud that he wants the number eight. and PBS is taking right over for me and his mind sponges up every little bit of information. because when easton was three, he went to pre-school. at the 3/4 mark of the year, his teacher told me he just wasn't getting the whole letter and numbers thing and that we should watch the letter factory. he watched it for 4 days straight. the next month he read the stop sign. by years end, the teacher told me he was the top scorer on the kindergarten entrance exam. and so, i will embrace the learning from those shows.

last friday, we had the most fantastic experience. my little baby brother decided last year that he might want to play football. the boys in my family have an athletic build and have done well with sports. well, that mr. kyle decided that he would play football this year too. only weber high school hasn't won a football game for 23 games straight which means two years. and so, we all didn't have too high of expectations in the community. they got a new coach and there were high hopes. we trucked down to west high last friday night. this is where very large football players live on the west side in salt lake city. my mutha texted fear into all of us as she got there before us. text:very large players, kyle might be a rag doll at the end. scared.
shoot. we wondered if this was the kind of carnage small children should watch as we had hyped them up to see uncle kyle play football. wouldn't you know, that kyle mcfarlane, turns out he can play football against thugs after all. he played the entire game and we were all yelling from the stands mostly in shock and disbelief every time he kicked the ball or his name was read over the loud speaker. except for the fact that west high kept calling him kyle mcfarley which turns out okay as we have quite an affinity for the farley's in general. but there was one thing he did that scott had to narrate to all of us naeive family members called a fumble. i don't know how it happened as this was the first football game i have ever watched in it's entirety, but somehow there was a large pile of thugs on top of my brother and the folks in the stands were yelling, he's not letting it go, i think weber got it. that little brother of mine was under that whole entire pile of thugs and it's a real crowd pleaser if you can still hang onto the ball of a lot a fellas are on top of you. and scott mckay commented on the way home how kyle played offense and defense and how he never even played football until last year. it kind of makes me real proud of how athletic he is and how experience doesn't matter if you have a listening ear and a drive to do hard things. and to top it all off, they won. those boys killed it and it was announced at church podiums across the valley yesterday. and all of these things happened in two weeks, which is why i say - NEW.

sweet relief

2013-07-31T14:52:00.000-07:00

monday was our big day with easton. we were checking his eosinophil levels to see if they had lowered in his blood.

the week before i threw my grandma's big party, i was de-junking and came across the articles scott had printed about eosinophilia and hyper-eosinophilia at the hospital. when he initially brought those home, i had a very strong impression not to read them. the doctor had told me we were doing everything possible for either diagnosis. easton's eosinophil levels suggested the hyper condition, but his symptoms did not. i made a mistake and read the literature before i threw it away. the one good thing that came from it was reading that when prednisone is taken, every time you taper, or lower the dose, the disease can re-surge and cause all of the symptoms to come back for a few days. we were finding that to be very true with easton. the every two week taper was a cruel trick. he would be making progress and then we would have to taper and he was down for five days. reading that part made me feel ready for the next 6 tapers we had ahead. the part where it said hyper eosinophilia is always fatal made me stop dead in my tracks. my heart sunk and instantly my eyes were wet and i realized why the dr and scott were being so solemn about this. that was a sunday night i read that. the entire week, i found myself on my knees a lot. i was contemplating things that a mother fears. i pushed it aside by submersing myself into the party planning. throwing that party was the best distraction i could have had while we have been going thru this. we had to cancel a couple of vacations (traveling is hard with a restricted diet that is crucial that it is followed with exactness and it was a somber thought to have to pinpoint every hospital along our intended traveling routes) and as a result we used those funds to pay for all of the things insurance doesn't cover and put some attention into our yard. if we were going to be home all summer, we might as well enjoy the house and the yard. i planted 13 flats of annuals, we amended soil, finished items on our house list and got ready for this party in between the plethora of hospital, lab and dr visits. that week, i had given myself so many tasks to complete, i felt lucky that i had little down time to contemplate what i had read. i knew we were weeks away from retesting his levels and it would take the week to get the blood work results to see if it was the hyper eosinophilia and if it had attacked the heart, brain, kidneys, liver or muscles. the week seemed to fly by but at the same time, each second was loud and slow with these humbling thoughts.

as we were cleaning up and people were dispersing from the big bash, my cousin Johnny and his wife inquired about easton. they had traveled from oregon to the party and had heard about easton's illness. they told me that their good friends have a daughter who is fighting HES (the hyper condition) and it had attacked her kidneys. When the diagnosis was given, they realized that everything that is out there about this condition labels it as terminal. This family was able to go to a specialist in pediatric HES at oregon health sciences university to consult with him about their daughters condition. he told them that pediatric cases have a much higher survival rate and that it's not a death sentence. my heart soared when i heard that. i felt like even though i didn't listen to that strong warning about not reading that literature (for the record, i didn't read it for 4 weeks) that a loving father made it up to me by bestowing that information to me. it was in no way a coincidence that they would mention that to me. i still get teary thinking of that loving mercy extended to me. it helps me be a better parent to my kids, a little more loving when i want to be upset when they don't follow my strict instructions. also, i was relieved to know that the road might be long to a full recovery but that it was possible.

elder bednar gave a talk in march found HERE. i came across it a few days before my good friend was diagnosed with colon cancer that had spread to her liver. she is in her early 40's and today she sent her oldest son on a mission. her husband was my favorite seminary teacher and now they are our neighbors. i love them dearly and we have all been so touched by their journey. the concepts presented in this talk have stuck with me. i thought about it pertaining to my friend and then, i had the opportunity to apply it to me. do i have as much faith in dying as i do in living? would i have the faith the let my son go as much as i have the faith that he is healed? my goodness, it's humbled me. i think i have more faith in living sometimes than i do in dying and that is something i need to work on. it seems ironic as a mormon that i wouldn't have more faith in a forever family and in the sure knowledge that we would always be a family unit if we lived up to those covenants, those very principals define mormonism. my friend i previously mentioned called me last week. even though we are friends, scott had been involved as they have gone thru this cancer challenge, and i stayed aloof, wanting to give them their full privacy. we were finally able to talk and my goodness, talking to her gave me the boost i needed before we did this blood work. her liver tumors have shrunk remarkably, and her cancer numbers are astonishingly low. she is proving a miracle. we talked and related. she told me that she was really struggling as to what it means to live with cancer. she decided that most of the time she felt good and so that is how she would act. it's a new normal but "as a man thinketh". it helped me so much. we need some counseling but it is extremely hard to get into a pediatric specialist (im going on three weeks of trying to be seen within the next six months) and she passed on her counselors advice to me. define a new normal and be happy. live. don't feel bad about what isn't in your normal anymore.

the blood work showed that easton's eosiniphil levels have returned to normal. with this blood test, for now, we are out of the HES category. we are on our way to healing. now that the eosiniphils are out of the blood, it will stop the attack on his GI tract. eosiniphils attack tissue giving easton what's like asthma of the GI tract. the rate of eosinphils were 100+ in his GI tissue, and so it will be a while before he starts to feel like his old self and before he starts to recover. he has a while of this strict diet, steroids, vitamin boosting (when the tissue is so inflamed, it's extremely hard to absorb nutrition), pro-biotics, and the thrush, oh it's miserable, but!!! we are leaving our dark path for now. our unknown, scary, what's the road we are on path. the relief is not something that words can describe. knowing that easton is functioning enough to return to school in a month and that we don' have to live day to day, dr visit to dr visit is tremendous relief. i am always grateful for this point in a trial when you can look at it with the layers of miracle and add them to the foundation of life.

extremely blessed, overwhelmingly loved.

the biggest birthday bash i ever threw AND the longest post this blog has ever seen.

2013-07-26T23:07:00.002-07:00

in the bleak winter months i had the party gods give me a vision of a lovely party i would throw for my grandma helen to mark her 95 years. my party voices started and i couldn't stop them. it happened and it was one of the highlights of my life.

my mother had told me no for years about hosting grandma's adult birthday party. mostly because she is the youngest of 7 kids and i guess you let the older ones take charge or something. so i had to usurp her and go to my auntie annette who is the event planner extraordinaire. she said yes and i was beside myself with excitement! this is all a real and true story about my excitement. there is nothing i love more than to host or be a part of culinary events for people i love. pulling a meal together comes easily to me, especially for large groups, and being that i'm a mormon and we are supposed to share our talents, i have to listen to the party demons sometimes, and that's on account of i dropped out of piano lessons as a teenager and i can't enrich the mormon's on sundee with my music abilities.

i filled up an entire notebook with ideas and such. and the menu changed 976 times but that was the funnest part, thinking of what to feed all these good people. i started on emails to my cousins and aunts and uncles and i think you might like an excerpt of one i sent out to guilt them into coming (because they couldn't see the scenes the party demons were playing for me, i had to lay on the heat real thick like):

This email is to address any concerns, excuses, problems with your attendance to grandma's friday night celebration.

1. you have a babe in arms, they are invited! if they happen to talk back, spit, hit, or wrestle - those offspring are not invited. kyle and ben have promised to behave.

2. you can't find a babysitter for the aforementioned children. call me, i will arrange responsible gals to watch them at my in-laws who live a few houses away.

3. you have to work and can't get to the party by 5:30 or 6:00. Dinner is a spread of food that can be eaten at 6:13, 6:42, 7:23 and so on. JUST COME!

4. you have a medical condition. my husband has a medical license and a killer first aid kit but he does not treat hemorrhoids. we also have two horses on standby should you need assistance once you get here. grandma has agreed to be pulled in by sled, what's your excuse?

5. north ogden is far away. so is the great beyond where grandma will be sooner than any of us. it will be worth it.

6. you don't know what present to get her. her words to me friday were something along the lines of - please tell everyone no gifts! i know they stew about what in the sam hill to get a 95 year old and the truth is, i don't need anything i'm ever given. my tip to you is that she is a sucker for m and m's and also the dark chocolate covered pomegranate seeds at costco, also pero is always a hit.

7. the entertainment should please a bunch of christensen's. i worked for six weeks to secure it. it is top secret but i know you will laugh.

8. food. it will be good.

9. grandma's hoping it's her last party, you might be sad you missed out.

you would come if you got this coercion, right? the beginning of the email was wikipedia's definition of coercion.

i am pleased as punch to tell you that it worked and our final count was around 75 people! there were cousins i had not seen in years that attended and my glory, it was something i will never ever forget. my sister in law who was eight months pregnant at the time captured perfectly the evening. i am so over the moon grateful for her and her photo skills. i always invite her to my events and she always, always comes thru. she has a gift with natural light and i think the following photos show it.

the woman of honor, helen.

when my alaskan brother, cameron, saw this picture, he asked what bad thing vaughn (my brother shown here) ever did to me to get grilling duty on the hottest day of the summer. he was willing was all!

that martinelli's lemonade is found at costco and it will tickle your fancy. it's amazing

the appetizers were laid out and i ended up realizing that we did an ode to corn. every dip contained corn but no one complained. it was divine! my mom and i fussing over the set up and function.

and the guest of honor! grandma on the far right and her sister allison in the middle (this is not a great shot of her crunching corn, sorry auntie allison!) and then her sister eulinid in the bright pink with my aunt ruth in the light pink. behind them was the baby station. i gathered up every baby apparatus ever known for all thebabies that came, it was awesome!

my good neighbor grows these fantastic flowers in abundance and let me have a go at them for decor. it was purely therapeutic.

you will notice the name tags that my brother and dad are wearing. little did everyone know that this was a clue about the entertainment (it was a top secret surprise). and they are also probably conversing about how i made them do ridiculous things to get ready for this party. one of them being mowing a lawn in 200 degree weather and the other painting my mudroom the entire week so that my house looked somewhat pulled together.

mingling and laughing. grandma pulling scott in congratulating him on staying married thru this whole deal. he is such a good sport!

i sat with my cousin jill and her husband nick and enjoyed the ode to corn. it was possibly the first time i had sat down in a month. this is real. i wish i had realized that i needed to take my apron off. i wore that thing until i went to bed. ah well.

my aunt ruth and aunt susan in a deep conversation about how i pulled this off for only $7 a plate. (i kid, but that dollar amount is real folks)

these two shots are poor reward for my slave labor, but i had an epiphany that i would not enjoy one moment if i did not have help there that wasn't related. i called in some big favors to some good women i love, they obliged and i am forever indebted. at the end of the night, my entire house was put together, food put away, and not one dish left to do or thing to clean. their name tags read, the help. we had to make sure no one mistook them for a cousin. in this picture below, kellie is giving me strict instructions that she will take care of the cake station.

i had a food skeleton inside the house of how the salads should be laid out. they had the ingredients for each salad in separate coolers with a food label on what went into each grouping. i went with salad bar extraordinaire for dinner.

the next shots demonstrate that these folks came for the party, not my speaking abilities. oh how i struggle with public attention. it makes things not work out smooth for my mouth and head. and apparently, my hands over compensate. a lot of hand action was apparently necessary for the welcome to the party and what we were having for dinner.

this shot of my mom is a beauty. i love that happy look on her face. it does not at all reveal how she had been my sous chef for three days straight chopping, slicing, and following orders. she's a gem.

if seeing extra large pictures of a salad spread doesn't make you excited, i am real sorry for you. this is my happy place.

my mom and i made 120 dilly rolls. store bought is not good if you have lived 95 years on this earth and your only complaint is you vomit when your intake of m and m's exceeds two handfuls.

after dinner was over, i introduced the entertainment. it's okay if you don't know who it is. these folks all did and the pictures of the reveal are priceless.

MR FARLEY

this man below made a video (after many, many performances around the state) of a family reunion typical of mormon families. its a one man show where he acts out every character who might attend a family reunion. we were all rolling and the laughter was heard two streets over. it was our entertainment as kids and it extended to most of my cousins. i had a whim and googled him. turns out he was delighted to come and i was giddy for months about this surprise. it made the evening. and, apparently, some of my cousins did not have a VCR growing up. they enjoyed it anyway and in that particular family, most of the spouses that married in to the family had seen it growing up. it was great!

the reactions upon his arrival were awesome. i had one cousin who wanted to yell and shout she was so star struck. my uncle and cousin were in fits of disbelief and giggles, they couldn't believe it.

i think this is the winner of the night. the three remaining sisters. it makes me tear up every time. they were watching our baby parade. we had so many new great grand babies there, we paraded them to the front.

the birthday cake was quite a feat. i was at a baptism where my friend amity brought these two amazing rainbow cakes. they were not only beautiful, but some of the best cake i have ever eaten. i asked to hire her out for the evening only to find she would be out of town. she came over one day and gave me a lesson. it was gold. i ended up making 20 layers which turned out to be 4 cakes. it was the highlight of my culinary life. they are so beautiful and my goodness, they grab your attention!

i will be honest, they were slicing up the cake and i had a watchful eye. six layers gets tricky but this was my cool, spy, sneaky face. the help did a fantastic job slicing!

grandma took the mic right before we ate cake and imparted some gratitude and wisdom. she's my idol.

this face is one i have seen many times thru my life of loving her, but i feel so over the moon that ashely captured it. it's her overwhelmed, amazed, purely grateful face. priceless. happy 95th grandma helen.

the best thing i ever did

2013-07-26T15:33:00.000-07:00

i am going to tell you about it, but first let me tell you why before what.

we have a new normal around here. that's obvious with the past few posts. things are good with easton. we are on a path and i feel like we are making progress. we still have a long road ahead and there are many things to conquer before we get a clean bill of health, but we will get there.

in this process of this sickness i discovered i have a really hard time balancing and not just giving up on certain things. for instance, when there are weeks where we are at the hospital, dr's office, lab all day for say 4 of the 7 days of the week, i find it really hard to follow thru with cleaning, three meals made, pick up, homework, extra curricular activities. not to mention time for myself. things came to a head and that's when i made a decision to hire a cleaning crew for my house.

all my married life i have discovered that i really, really struggle with keeping the cleaning voices quiet in my head. tell me i am not the only one? i have the need to clean everything top to bottom, old to new. i struggle with keeping balance on both ends. when life is crazy i tend to stress over cleaning and am usually too drained to do the actual cleaning, only stress about it. also, i found i had to get really worked up and mad to clean to propel me thru. it was seriously a disorder that i probably should have been taking medication for. i have my kids help me but getting them to deep clean the way i want it was only injuring our eternal relationship. that's being honest. i do however have them do things that don't require spraying chemicals. once i watched one of them clean the bathroom, ugh. it was far more dangerous for everyone with all of the scratching, itching, touching kids do on a regular basis, and then you throw in bodily fluids on surfaces? they were contaminating themselves before they could clean the mess up and i was loosing sleep over it.

every year for my birthday i have wanted this deep cleaning package my brother has been telling me about. that scott mckay is a hard sell. for three years i have begged and he just has too much common sense to indulge in such things. i knew my mental health was at stake and so this year, i told him that was what i was getting for my birthday, a deep clean. these folks came and cleaned windows inside and outside, walls, corners, baseboards, decor was dusted, couches vacuumed, and then a regular cleaning to top it off.

when scott consented, i took the two weeks before the cleaners came to de-junk every crevice in my house. there were trailers full taken to the DI. it was so incredibly liberating. i have always had a hard time making time for dejunking because i always feel like i am in the process of regular cleaning. it was becoming a snowball effect. and for the record, this cleaning problem and stress always seemed manageable in smaller quarters. this house has killed me. i realize it's no mansion, but we lived for ten years in apartment type dwelling and so it feels massive to me.

while these good cleaners were doing their deep cleaning, i asked if they regular cleaning as well. he gave me a quote and i told him to come twice a month to this house. i made room in my budget by cutting down on some other things and we fast once a day (joke). i made changes in phone services, and started cutting back on extras and it is worth every single penny! i can keep the house picked up but i don't function very well when i have the burden of cleaning, pick up and de-junk on my plate. it feels like i have had someone give me 10 years worth of therapy. i highly recommend it if you suffer the problems i do. and for the record, i do have to clean before the cleaners come in a sense but it has forced me to only worry about pick up and regular cleaning everyday. so at the end of the day we go thru the house putting everything back in it's place and then do meal clean up and floors as needed. but, twice a month, my floors are mopped, kitchen scoured, all floors cleaned, sofas vacuumed, bathrooms cleaned top to bottom and my goodness, it feels so good! for the record, my two levels (about 3100 sq feet) for my bi-weekly cleaning is $100. am i crazy? yes, either way you look at it!!

when time stops for a bit

2013-06-07T22:20:00.002-07:00

sometimes time seems to halt and it's like god's hand scoops you up. you go along for the ride but you feel ultra sensitive and out of your comfort zone. it feels like home when hard things happen. a strange familiar feeling. does this make sense?

i need those things in life that make me stop and say what are you doing and where are you headed. are you going good places? are you taking your kids with you or are they dragging behind.

my heart has been in a million different directions since this all started with easton. broken, mended, shattered, torn, guilt ridden, bursting, overflowing. all of them. i love my family. i am grateful to love fiercely and to be loved fiercely.

our first miracle was when our pediatrician gave us his cell phone and told us we could text and call. there were countless nights he kept us out of the ER talking us thru calming easton down and getting his pain under control. he stayed up with is, hour by hour, determining he was okay. that's organic medicine. that's why scott m went into medicine. he saw a grandpa and uncles practice organic medicine. he saw healing. it's no corporate office, it's no billing and payment, it's house visits, it's charity, it's healing.

(disclaimer to our medical friends, my spelling is not accurate but i refuse to google our diagnosis for fear of being institutionalized, work with me?)

then along the way, i just happened to ask our allergist while i was doing a baseline with rowan for his food allergies (i could tell they had shifted because he had constant eczema since december that wouldn't go away)a simple question. i just had a feeling. it is uncharacteristic of me. having scott work in the medical field, he gets a lot of questions from people. one man cornered him in the hall at church and grilled him about his hemorrhoids. a lot of people call and ask if he can tell if they have a broken bone over the phone. they are really seeking reassurance from someone who spent a lot of years in medical education if they are going to be okay and what they should do. on this particular day, i excused myself profusely to our amazing, wonderful, brilliant allergist who is also an immunologist, for the question i was going to ask about easton. i had noticed on rowan's new patient questionnaire a line about frequent recurring strep throat. it was my first nagging question to the pediatrician when this all started. easton's had strep throat 6 times in 12 months. the immunologist said it was absolutely a sign that something was off and would i be willing to include him in easton's care. he gave me a list of blood work to take to our GI appointment. it took nothing short of hi-jacking the GI staff at primary's to get an appointment. our pediatrician called for five days straight to the emergent on call dr. for five days. straight. no phone call back. these two months have led to so much disappointment with the GI dept at primary's. i would get angry, angry because easton was getting sicker and sicker. being the primary care giver and not able to relieve pain and suffering no matter how much i googled or racked my brain was torture. primary's tells us it's a six month super bug. wait it out. they did a CT w contrast which reassured us that there was no life threatening problem. the blood work came back and was reviewed by dr jones (the allergist/immunologist) and he immediately sent me for more blood work to check easton's eosinifils. this is a measure of allergic response in the blood. he also did a ton of skin tests and we found he was allergic to a number of things outside and a few foods. the blood work came back and his eosinifils had doubled from 800 to 1600. so high that dr jones called primary's and told the nurse we needed a GI scope immediately. not in two weeks. as soon as possible. they got us in 5 days later with another GI willing to take it on. At the scope they were looking for the presence of these eosinifils in the esophagus. dr jensen reviewed his findings and said there was no significant swelling and he had a very healthy tract. we were devastated. he told us with the presence of the collection of enlarged lymph nodes discovered in the gut at the last ultra sound it would confirm the virus theory. so that day we were on team virus, wait it out even tho none of the medication was helping. we were told the results would take 7 days from the biopsy. i got a call the next day from our GI. he told me that the rate of eosinifils was high and that we needed to be treated by the allergist but that it wasn't at all explaining the pain easton was in. he told us to go back to our pediatrician and general surgeon who performed the umbilical hernia repair in april and to do an exploratory lap. sigh. we were off team virus and feeling like we were at square one with an incidental finding. we were so depressed. the next morning i had an appointment with dr jones to review the results. to diagnose with eosinophila it takes a score of 20, 50 being severe. easton was 100+. i was telling him how i felt so deflated that this didn't explain his pain. he got stern with me and told me we had a diagnosis and that it was absolutely the right path. he assured, calmed, educated, and promised to follow this thru with us. he promised easton he would do everything he could to get him feeling better and this was causing the pain. he wanted us to see the general surgeon the next day to rule out a need for surgery and wanted him to call dr jones the second we were done with the appointment. dr jones called my cell phone on his lunch break and said he had this this nagging feeling we need to do some more blood work. there's a condition that's called hypereosinifila that is hard to pin down and diagnose, but it's serious. we have to explore it. his rate double in three weeks. it won't change the course of treatment but it changes how aggressive we are. we will get that blood work back in two weeks when we see how the prescribed course of action is going. no surgery. it was the answer we were hoping for. and the last two days, man they feel right. it's that green light feeling that we are with the right people doing the right thing and my burden is lightening up. it feels right. those angels in the last post? i looked up, i made room for them, i listen for them. i can feel them.

what's the prescribed course of action?

a five food elimination diet. we eliminate dairy, eggs, wheat, soy, nuts in any form. an aggressive round of steroids to calm the GI tract down and to see if it improves the eosinifil rate. every time we reintroduce one of the foods, we follow up with blood work and a GI scope. is it chronic or acute? time will tell. today, he started the steroids which should take 2 weeks to notice improvement. we are praying he responds to it and his rate goes down. please don't google this and talk to me about it. when scott got off the phone with dr jones this week, he spent the day at the hospitals medical library. he came home solemn and said, "what a miracle that you asked that question. i don't want to think where we would be if we let this go untreated." and so i won't google it. i will take it day at a time. we have dr jones cell number and his urging to call with any questions. that's healing. that's organic medicine. today i called the nurses line because i remembered my best friend who had lupus could never go in the sun because of the steroids. i wondered if i should keep him out of the sun. also, someone was telling me a coconut was a nut and i shouldn't give it to easton. i had grandiose dreams of ice cream with coconut milk and oil to fatten him up. dr jones called me back 25 minutes later to tell me what to expect and that the FDA classifies coconut as a nut but it's a fruit and eat away.

we are calorie boosting as he is thin and this condition makes it hard for him to absorb nutrients. his blood work shows his deficiencies. i bought a juicer, with every piece of produce in costco accompanying me home. i'm a mother on a mission.

this is long, it is detailed and erratic but there's a point to it.

i have an inbox full of emails. i have texts waiting to be responded to. i have a phone that rings with concern. we put our pride aside and asked for help. we have prayed for a miracle. loved ones, you are our miracle. it is faith that proceeds the miracle. ours wasn't enough. i can't express the overflowing gratitude that seems to burst from me at times. i have been so touched to see genuine concern and faith expressed for easton. god's hand. we have been on a ride. and this particular ride is slowing down. i hope i can cultivate and keep this feeling with me. the feeling of hard things and how it reminds me of home. that closeness we feel when we realize that bended knee offered to calm the turbulence is what this life is about. yes, that line my friend jen said from my last post about the lord orchestrating our education, it has imprinted on my mind. this is our education. it is not a mystery, it is the answer. thank you from the bottom of our hearts for everything that was offered to receive and be aware of this miracle. love is what it's about, we are forever grateful. thank you!!

new normal

2013-05-29T16:49:00.001-07:00

today is day 39. 39 days since easton got sick, really sick. the kind of sick that sends the red mother alarm off. blaring. flashing.

when motherhood grabbed me with that first maternal inclination, i remember well the thought of panic setting in. grayce was a new baby and the responsibility hit me upside the head and down the other. i remember the distinct thought that it would be 18 years before she could be out of the house and that heavy feeling might leave. of course that was soon replaced with and eternal well of love. love that surprised me. i was entranced by it, by loving her and wanting 900 babies to love and feel that love from.

when your baby gets sick, it brings such a wide variety of emotions. the love is so perfect and so pure. in some ways, when everyday you are waiting for your child to turn a corner, it seems everything stops. the days no longer count, the measures of time seem loud reminders of when your normal was disrupted. that feeling of love is magnified, explosive because it's all you have to aid this baby in the pain and in the journey.

it all sounds so dramatic. all those emotions over a little boy who is sick. but that maternal instinct is so fierce. there was one visit to the ER in particular that scott and easton had to go all alone. it was a result of an on call GI dr not calling our pediatrician back for five days. our pediatrician told us to force their hand. i was fed up with our medical system. if we were given one more colon cleanse, i was going to knock some heads together to the tune of a fierce beat. it we were told one more time a sentence containing "wait it out" and "virus", there was going to be someone who would hear it from me. hibernation for mother bear was over. we were 17 days in. i was done living day to day, done with no answers, done with begging for a GI specialist to see us. done. i am the mother and i knew deep in my bones by day 5 that something was not right in his body. it took 24 days from onset to get to a specialist. the poor kid has gone rock hard on one side guarding because the pain is so intense. he is hunched over and moves slow. sometimes it goes away, sometimes he vomits. every night its hours to get his body calmed down to sleep, and all night it's tossing and turning. all night. 39 nights. 6 ER visits, 8 lab visits, 4 ultra sounds, 1 CT scan, 5 prescriptions, at least 40 phone calls, psychologists, GI's, immunologists, allergists, and we still don't really know. one dr called today with a lab value that doubled in three weeks over a certain number that means it's possibly more than the severe allergies we discovered in the skin tests and the GI scope needs to be done sooner. when i asked what it could be, he tried to describe it simply saying its benign whatever it is but it's an indicator of something that's yet to be discovered of an abnormal production in the body that could take six months to figure out and watch. sigh.

am i learning? am i taking the opportunity? am i looking up?

i'm pretty sure brian kershisnik got it right in this painting, lift your eyes my heart tells me on the days my heart is broken for this kid, lift your eyes. i want this painting 50 feet by 50 feet so i don't forget what it does to me when i see it. it feels like a deep truth in my heart.

i read this concept from a friend's blog who has been recently diagnosed with breast cancer at a very young age. she was talking about the game of what if i have cancer? the process she went thru upon discovering a lump and waiting for the results. here is an excerpt:

This turned into a bit of a What About Bob moment (i.e. Bob: There are two kinds of people in this world those who like Neil Diamond and those who don’t. My ex-wife loved him. Dr. Marvin: You mean to tell me that you are a paranoid multiphobic personality, but she didn’t leave you? You left her because she likes Neil Diamond?) OW…OW…. My moment was kind of like “You mean I have been putting all of my efforts, reading books, making plans, spending most of my time caring and nurturing these children and I am disposable? I can at best be taken out of commission for a while as a mother and at worst be taken to the other side??? So maybe, they don’t really need me as much as I think they do? Though I have always looked at motherhood as a joint effort with God; I realized more than ever that it is His work and His glory---to help these children achieve their full potential and return to live with Him. He is at the helm, not me. I can be a useful instrument in his hands as a mother, but He is not depending on me. I am depending on Him!!! My children are depending on Him—and He will orchestrate their education and mine in mortality in a way that is best for us. Also, I realized more fully that where I fall short as a parent, the Savior's grace is sufficient for them and me.

have i shown easton that we are depending on him? have i shown him that no matter what the doctor tells us, this is all temporary but the learning we do from these trials is eternally vital?

i was lamenting over my strawberries the other day, half dead and lifeless. i had amended the soil, watered faithfully, and yet they were dying. the rains came thru with cold temperatures and as i watched for days i was quite sure the vision of strawberry jam would be put to rest and that there was no way could they survive the multiple days of awful weather. they went into the rain compromised and weak. after four days i was amazed to see the leaves a vibrant green and more blossoms than i could imagine. the vines were spreading and by george, we might be able to eat from our garden this year. the thought struck me so deep that the harsh weather was exactly what these strawberries needed to make them beautiful and productive.

and so i will lift my eyes, be grateful for the rain, and remember that we are depending on him.

*if you want to read more about my friend jen and her unselfish documentation, you can go here. every post i read of hers i feel like i'm reading a conference talk. she is unmatched in her eternal vision and doctrinal interpretation.*

looking for miracles

2013-04-29T14:30:00.000-07:00

i'm in charge. usually. i coordinate, i plan, i write lists, and more lists, i make meal plans, cleaning plans, dish out jobs that need to be done, carpool, and on and on. i am in charge of a lot of things to keep my little household running. in the midst of the bustle, i take more credit than i should about being in charge. i feel like i have had a few reminders about being in charge that have really helped me.

the last month has put some hair on my chest and some contributors are strep throat, stomach flu, emergent surgery for easton for a hernia repair, a trip to the hospital twice to rule out appendicitis for easton, my ever abounding female hormonal problems (last months PMS episode mimicked a blood clot in my calf, the list of things that happen before i cycle is unreal and gets stranger every month. i have never ever looked forward to a monthly visit so much to relieve the craziness, the symptoms dissipate within hours of cycling. TMI, i know), and little easton who just can't get over a stomach bug (we are on day 9 and under a doctors watchful eye and a trip to the hospital).

i had my breakdown yesterday. i was headed to church and had some responsibilities there that called for a list of organization and cooperation. the list didn't include easton taking a bad turn as we were trying to get there on time. i had to call the doctor again, go over symptoms and protocol and what to look for. scott ended up getting someone to cover for him so he could take him up to the hospital. my tears started as i pulled up to the church house 10 minutes late and realized i only had one side of my face with make up on it and my dress wasn't ironed. my hair was neglected because of the turn of events and i broke. the bishop was the first person i saw and immediately asked how easton was. the dam broke. snot flying, mascara running down one side of my ugly crying face, the sobbing. the hall was filled with people looking at the spectacle. i have never done that in public before. i was absolutely mortified. everyone bustled around me to take over so i could go to the hospital with easton. but, i couldn't go. i had to go home and cry for two hours. i was filled with fear and panic to say the least. i was also not feeling up to par as i had spent friday night throwing up all night and dealing with an incurable yeast infection i have had since christmas. it was one of those soul searching moments. i had to dig deep and find where my peace was going to come from. i remembered this talk i had heard by chance as the channel was on BYU tv one morning and kept repeating to myself, don't shrink. don't shrink. and then the desperation of how do i not shrink? my son is in peril, his eyes are sunken, there is nothing i can do for him. it seems there is no end, no break in his pain and misery. there is no meal i can cook, no service i can do for him. my body is sub par and compromised and i feel insufficient right now, not shrinking seems impossible. i wanted desperately to give into that fear. then i had the feeling to listen to this talk from a few weeks ago. it was such a moment of clarity when i felt like someone was right there telling me what to do. i had to ask for a humble heart to realize that i needed to borrow some faith. i had let the fear consume me to the point that i couldn't see an end to the monotony of the affliction. i repeated over in my heart, i do believe but please help my unbelief. i had to realize that my faith was short. i had gone thru this onslaught without relying on my faith, therefore missing the miracles. everyday there are miracles and there is hope. this being in charge business is tricky to balance faith sometimes. i puff with pride and take credit for things that i should be looking up for with gratitude.

i had to sit in my bed with closed eyes and remember the things i do know. and then i recalled the miracles i have been missing. i was filled with just enough hope to press forward.

being aware of miracles i was so filled today when i went to a dental appointment with rowan. i had noticed a few spots on his front teeth on the back that did not look good. i made an appointment for this morning and sure enough his thin enamel had broken thru and we were missing some spots obviously on the back teeth when we were brushing. that little boy let the dentist use the drill without any numbing medication and fill the bad spots. he sat completely still for 45 minutes while he drilled, poked, and filled. i was overwhelmed by that little miracle. it saved us a trip to the surgical center. rowan didn't flinch once. as we were leaving dr ryan's office with a fistful of treasures, that cherub looked up at me and said, momma, that was fun, can we do it again? it was just the miracle i was in need of.

drama{tic}

2013-03-13T13:37:00.002-07:00

january can do some nutty things to a gal, but this thing might have been too nuts. one day i had this really terrifying thought about my girls connecting their beauty to their long hair. we seem to grow hair like unwanted weeds around here, it just pops up uncontrollably. everywhere they go they get a comment about their hair. i decided that i wanted them to realize beauty beyond what grows on their head. i talked to them about change and beauty and about doing something great for someone else. ella was right on board but grayce (whose hair turned a wavy mess with the onset of puberty) was slower to concede. somehow she jumped off this steep cliff with us. Here we are, ready to take the plunge.......the girls right out of the shower, ready for change.

change is what we got! ella and i both coughed up 10 inches, while grayce left us in her dust...she came up with a whopping 14 inches!

grayce and i were on our way to new beginnings, hence the fluffiness ella was mad she didn't have!

two months in to it, here's my feeling on short hair. ITS A LOT OF WORK. for grayce, it's perfect. her length is just right, ella needs about 5 more inches, that's her perfect length. i wish i would have cut 5 inches and changed my hair color. i can't get away with only washing my hair every couple of days. short hair is serious, you have to have a style, and the boho look doesn't work as well. i had gone with a darker hair color in december and it was making my poor no sun skin looked washed out. but, like i stated earlier, our hair grows like unwanted weeds. so this is a tragedy we will recover from. next january i will buy a new top or a new pair of jeans.....

2, to, too, two

2013-02-27T11:05:00.001-08:00

in october we celebrated with cake and candles, balloons and streamers. 2 years since heaven lent itself and our family expanded.

mild, calm, snuggler, dormant. complimented on all ends from every adoring, admiring friend about his content personality.

and somehow his lack of vitamin D in the form of bikes, sand boxes, and swings have led to my son being two.

my friend had twins that could sniff out a sharpie marker from a mile away at the age of two and plaster one another's faces in 15 seconds quick. and so the sharpies were eradicated form every corner and nook of their home. only to find that they forgot one in the hidden tool box in the garage.... and again another week of black sharpie covered faces were presented. the shame and anger i remember her going thru. of course i was hysterical with every blood hound like hunt for the sharpie... it just kept on going.

cereal. he can sniff out every piece in my house and spread it from top to bottom. crush it, smash it, spread it, hide it for the next round. placed on the highest shelf that even i can't reach without a stool, no use. showering has become a luxury unless shackles are brought out to keep him from next escapade.

liquid in any form. whether it be the kind he produces or the kind he is given to drink. it is spread, spit, launched in any form. spread from here to there. i fetched every secure cup possible to halt the chaos. there is no cup he cannot conquer. IV's are the only thing i have not yet explored. just eating a meal is 1/2 hour clean up. water spit at other kids while eating, soup dumped down the front of his body for decor, dripping down the table and soaking every crevice. why on earth did i think white cabinets were a good idea.? it's as bad of an idea as white carpet. really, poor. they are scoured once a week.

too. to every pancake no matter how flat, there are two sides. the other side of the two pancake are the squeezes around my neck. he strokes my hair and says with admiration, "you hay fretty mama." or he will ask squealing, "you love me mom??" with his voice in total amazement. it gets me every time.

or how about when he watches his favorite show, NACCHOOO LIBRRREEE, and yells it, just like that. his requests to wrestle in sacrament meeting can't be ignored and often i feel like someone should be dinging a bell with the last amen as i walk out slapped, punched, and wrestled....

his cousin of 3 months old was at his mercy the other day when the baby was in the swing and rowan was holding an adult size tube of toothpaste shoving it in his mouth. it was when the red tube of lipstick came out and he was instructing the baby, "this is lady paint, so pretty" that i had to laugh. a three month old covered in bright red lipstick would have caused tears and i feel lucky i caught him before the first stroke went on.

this too shall pass. and one day, my heart will long for two.

my annual trek

2013-01-30T12:59:00.000-08:00

to the city happened to fall in the christmas months. AND happened to be very last minute. i knew i might talk myself out of it if it was too planned out, or some other health malady would keep me. the list of crazy things happening in my body gets longer all the time BUT things are manageable. anyhow - i held up for this trip and crashed hard when i got home. almost couldn't participate for christmas as i somehow had a piece of calcium come loose in my ear in all the travel. my 33 year old self had to go see an audiologist and have a classic geriatric maneuver done to get my head from rocking like i was on a boat. it was quite the experience but totally worth being in the city with two dear friends.

i feel lucky to have some cool cats in my life. one of them willing to drive to denver to get a published round trip fare to NYC for $120. i am not so cool and said i would go but would be happy to pay more to fly out of SLC (im dumb like that).at one point there was an issue with a fare incorrectly printed and i was going all alone (it only lasted a few hours, but i went to bed thinking that i had booked a ticket and the other gals might not be coming).

emily blogged about the trip magnificently. i felt like we had a journalist on the trip and also committed to be better about the whole picture thing.

Day 1 - click here
Day 2 - click here
Day 3 - click here

Day 4 - click here

let me give you a recommendation that day 3 is something not to be missed. look for me and that part where my face met the pavement at the famous central park fountain in front of many, many spectators. you can see where this idea of jumping and holding hands goes wrong for someone with legs half the length of the people on either side of you. this picture caused us many nights of out of control giggling as we relived over and over my horrified face right before it meets the pavement.

the food. we indulged in so many wonderful things. i can't even begin to describe the food let down as i come back to my little town and feel so deprived. there are so many good things right at your fingertips in this city. i wonder if on any trip i take to NYC i will ever have this madness die down. it's so deep in my soul my love affair. i am already planning my next trip. the hotel we stayed at was an absolute find and the best kept brooklyn secret. we were literally 5 minutes away from times square. the free taxi service was awesome and you can't beat $200 a night thru booking.com..hollah!

i love nothing more than to be with good solid women that i love and admire. maybe my NYC obsession has to do with these wonderful women who indulge me each year. i learn so much from them. i am incredibly blessed with amazing women that surround me and i never tire of gleaning from their goodness.

i also had this opportunity to look at all of these pictures of myself and do some serious evaluation. i don't own a full length mirror and also don't consider any part of my closet "in". i barely scrape by in the fashion department. i am embracing the fact that i have short legs and a squatty body. emily pointed out that it might be because i am comparing myself to two girls with freakishly long legs. this thought i came across last week said "comparison is the thief of joy". this has made me look at the pictures and simply embrace. embrace the fact that i look a whole lot like my brothers. sometimes this makes me feel not feminine. i am determined to add some more feminine pieces to my wardrobe. also, i am fine with my weight. yes, it tends to gather round the nether region despite any effort i put into it, but that's a part of me. i am determined to figure out the things that i can wear that suit my body type. also, day 4 makes me look completely like franklin the turtle and if my scarf was fashionable i would be okay with the turtle look. however, a fleece scarf is in no way fashionable. at all. things like that. i am going to work on so i don't get so critical and down on my looks.

case in point:

hey yo homies! bumble bee day - the salesman convinced me that this hat was chic. i look like jerry seinfeld from the bee movie.

example #2 - hamburger anyone? i was feeling the shake shack love this day i guess, because i look like a hamburger (with dirty clothes and hair- because my luggage hadn't come yet.)

this i submit as the dirty hamburger eating world's best dumplings. really. not only nice but world's best.

sherry dubbed this the ear eating picture, but for some strange reason, it's almost my favorite picture of the trip. emily absent is the reason why it can't be my favorite.

and with that said - this is my favorite picture of the trip. there's nothing like a real time moment such as one right before your face meets pavement to let you know what humble pie tastes like.......

2012 Seasons Greetings and Reflections

2012-12-18T22:13:00.000-08:00

Sometimes I try real hard to conform and such. BUT. I can't get it together for the whole Christmas Card situation. Here is my offering, slight as it might be. I feel incredibly and overwhelmingly grateful to have spent 2012 surrounded by such wonderful people. 2012 has been filled.

Yesterday I was reflecting with my sister and we had the most wonderful conversation about the concepts concerning mourning, compassion, and curiosity. Sometimes I think we confuse our need to help and be compassionate, selfishly with curiosity. We look at someone else's trial and feel the need to help. Sometimes we selfishly feel like we need to know details of someone else's crisis or trial in order to help. We need to tell our neighbors about someone else's crisis or trial to make OURselves feel better. 2012 gave me the opportunity to see how we mourn with those that mourn. We extend just enough mercy that our curiosity is curtailed.

I watched a clip of Robbie Parker's press conference. At the end of his sobering offering to the media, he was asked what his last minutes were like with his sweet angel. I saw his heart pierced with pain from the inappropriateness of that very personal question and in seconds this overflowing mercy he extended to the reporter. He shared what those last moments of earth life were like for him and Emilie. 2012 taught me that asking any kind of a question in crisis to this dad is inappropriate and not compassionate. Compassion would never have asked questions. Compassion would have been a listening ear. Compassion would have been letting him keep those last moments sacred and for himself. This man knows what mercy is. I have come to gain a better understanding of what quality people I have been blessed to mourn with and be loyal to. It has taught me the error of my selfish curious ways with a determination that I won't forget what 2012 brought into our lives. I am determined to explore and extend mercy more fully in my life.

For the lighter offering of this Holiday Theme, I will update you on this family of mine. That good red head got himself some hobbies this year. It was about time. Hobbies should never include writing prescriptions and giving neuro exams.

I talked him into this Jeep he had been eyeing and now he fancies himself on finding "parts" for this jeep of his. I never ever knew that a car could be a hobby. Turns out that jeeps are a lifestyle. We enjoyed many summer nights with ice cream cones dripping down our faces and the wind blowing in our hair at sunset. I will emit the gory details about how he got a bad deal on one of those Jeep parts and how the fabric top kept hitting back seaters in the head. He has also got himself a bow - think Robin Hood. Arrows and practice are required for this deal and he has yet to come up with the purpose of it all other than a hobby.

I confess that he gets better with time and am so glad he is mine. He has played the part of super hero this year filling in the major gaps our year has left us. I can't possibly imagine how another Christmas can come and how I can enjoy it any more with him and then life always surprises me and every year it is possible.

Grayce - 11. pre-teen and proud of it. the battle is beginning. that picture up top was chosen as "the one" because that good red head of mine looked at it and stated he wanted something with his pre-teen hugging her dad without being asked framed and on the mantle. She is fun and happiness. She is tease and attitude. In this family picture, every single item of clothing is from my closet down to the boots. Having a daughter who still boasts the 95% for height will always be a mystery to this short mother. She has blown us away with her desire and drive to keep at that singing talent and I am quite sure I will pass out from nerves every single time she sings a solo. She got to record a song in a studio with her voice teacher before he moved away in August. She sang a duet with him and it was such an honor to watch her with those head phones on with twinkling eyes taking in that studio. She is bound and determined that NYC will be in her future for 2013 and has been diligently saving up money so that she can be included in my annual excursion. By darn, I think she is going to do it.

Easton - 9 the end of this month. He will always continue to amaze me with his old soul. He is starting to act more the part of a brother this year by the occasional poke, tease, and torture. It makes me happy as he was far too behaved for his own good. He has held his sports torch high by racing to read the sports section of the newspaper every single morning and memorizing every stat over cereal. He has been playing more sports and talking less, which is a good thing for the sanity of those who live with him. He has loved finally being in the third grade and having permission to spout those times tables he memorized in kindergarten. At the beginning of the year, he started to read the Book of Mormon in his free time at school and was to 3 Nephi by March. We were shocked and amazed and inspired to do better at scripture reading. Our Bishop challenged us to read the Book of Mormon this year and boy howdy, he got on that one all on his own. His proudest accomplishment is that of the mullet he sports. I tried to hide it in these pictures but his grandpa McKay teases mercilessly that he is going to get his Young Women's medallion if he doesn't cut it. He did recently take 3 inches off the mullet and boy is he proud that his is still longer than any of the teachers and priests in the ward.

Ella - 6. This little girl continues to amaze me with her determination and zest for life. She has blossomed in Kindergarten. The first day of school she came home and told me that she went to the principals office. I was mortified and grilled her endlessly about why. She was telling me it had something to do with her friend and a line of kids and I could not make sense of this. I stewed about it for days asking her what he said to her and what her teacher said about going there as she told me her teacher had her go there. Finally I got brave and asked her teacher. She laughed and said that everyone went to the principals office, they went on a tour of the school. I have chuckled about this more times than I can count. She is quite the girl. She is an artist, spending hours on end at the art table she got for her birthday. We have regular piles of these amazing creations. I was watching her in her classroom the other day and was amazed at the confidence she has around people. I watched her in these little groups and saw all the kids watch what she did and they all followed. It scared me near to death to recognize her leadership skills and then I eased up a bit as I saw she was making good choices and showing kindness at the same time. she is such a gem in our family.

Rowan -2. Angel. Really. There are no words to express his light in our family. He is kind and patient. He heals and glues all of us together with this amazing ability to calm and assure. If you are having a bad day, come for some Rowan love and he will make you feel pretty important. He is also sporting a mullet at his brother's request and is proud to tell you about his "muwet hair tut". He has each one of those siblings on a tight string. He has taken the lead from Easton and loves all things sports. His favorite thing to do is watch games. More recently WSU Basketball games. Oh how he lights up when we tell him it's game night. He squeals, he yells "go team" and loves when they score a basket. Walking into the arena sounds like we have a baby pig with us. He gets crazy happy and squeaks to his hearts content. He is amazing as far as watching games. He will watch an entire game while making someone feel loved and sitting on their lap. He loves nursery and loves to tell me about the snack every week. He is blossoming and it is such a privilege to watch. He melts my heart daily as he wraps those chubby arms around my neck and says "love you mom". His naps are one of the highlights of his day as he religiously tells me everyday after lunch that he is a tired boy and needs his crib. He is so much like Easton was at this age and I just can't believe DNA could be so similar.

I love this family of mine and feel really blessed to be sharing Christmas with them. They make me a better person everyday. They are what life is about. I love being around them and feel like we have reached such a high point in family life. Young enough to still love us yet old enough to clean toilets - Hoorah!!

a gift idea for you

2012-12-13T15:11:00.001-08:00

right after graduate school was finished and we started earning a paycheck, we were faced with a gifting dilema. instead of having a few beans as an offering as a christmas gift to family, we had some actual real money. we didn't know what to get family. as the siblings on my side talked, we decided to pool our money for our dad and have it go towards a plane ticket to alaska (my brother lives there and he wanted to get up to see him). We had a good sum of money from the 6 of us. it required an envelope to hold it all. as christmas time drew near, we became aware of a family that was in need. my brother devin was working at the ogden DI at the time. on christmas, as we gathered around and exchanged gifts, my dad opened his envelope. instead of that wad of money was a note that said something to the effect of: "we had money in here to go towards a plane ticket to visit cam. it was a good amount. devin told us of a family he worked with. they were in need and we decided that if you taught us anything as kids, it would be that the money needed to go to that family instead. thank you for teaching us the real meaning of christmas."

it was a very touching christmas celebration as we honored my dad and his gift of teaching to us.

every year we try to donate our money we would spend on each other to a good cause. this year i was feeling empty. as our own little family, we adopt a child from the child abuse utah program (they are in the shelter for christmas) and provide a christmas morning for them. we were able to help out a good deal with the missionary efforts for our church a few months ago. but there was nothing screaming christmas to me. it's tricky to get that green light feeling.

today when i woke up and got this email, i knew that this would be our family giving gift this year. scott was on a flight with rachel a few months ago and felt really inclined to get involved with their families efforts to help send off missionaries for our church in guatemala. you can read about it HERE.

she talked about a perpetual fund to help the people that they were worshipping with and i was head over heels with this great idea. feel free to click HERE to read about it.

and sorry for ruining the surprise of your gift mcfarlane's, but i had to pass this on to others looking to do the same thing. merry christmas!

repeat

2012-11-25T16:58:00.001-08:00

we are in that phase with my toddler. explosive learning is taking place. words learned often tend to be repeated, repeatedly. as in over and over. only a mother can appreciate this phase. while my video on the previous post demonstrates this point, maybe that will give my story credit.

while in the midst of sunday sacrament worship, rowan let it be known that his tummy was sick. tummy sick, over and over. within minutes he lead the chorus with melodic tones in his voice ringing out "i'm poopin" over and over. we are quite past the binky phase and so i desperately stuck my finger in his open jaw - kind of like you would a puppy, to quiet the chorus, all to no avail. he is no dummy. he saw the rows in front of us and the ones behind us with red faces and giggles leaking out. he knew his song was first rate with that reaction, and so from our bench the song of praise heard was "i'm poopin, i'm poopin".

sorry bishop.