Seriously So Cute: January 2010

Sunday, January 31, 2010

1 year and 9 days

Wow: I still pray each and every night that I will see Isabella in the morning. That she will be safe. And that she will stay.

Crazy: Isabella is one year and 9 days tomorrow....

Hard: Was he really this tangible? This squishy? Yes. So glad.

Kisses: Love them. From both

Loves: All of my children. Trying to yell less, read more, hug, and not take for granted what I have.

Hope: We can go on. God is good. We can do this.

Joy: Families are Forever.

My precious little boy.

My precious little girl.

Monday, January 25, 2010

BuMmEr

Have you ever been to a doctor's office you like?

You know.

One you don't have to wait for 30 minutes or more before you get to see the nurse, only to sit in the room for another 30 minutes until the doctor comes in?

Or when you call, you don't hear this, "Can you please hold?" (click) before you even have a chance to process the question just thrown at you?

Or nice office people?

And you don't leave there totally frustrated because because you only got to see the doctor for like 30 seconds because he was running behind, which totally isn't your fault.

I mean after all you ARE paying at least a $20 copay and being billed $100 more, so seriously don't you deserve at least 4 minutes? And get to ask at least 3 questions?

Well to be honest. I have NEVER (ok once) had anything OTHER than this lovely experience at the doctor's office. (Apparently I am going to the wrong on you might say) Well Savannah sees an eye doctor, TWO leg doctors, TWO hormone doctors, stomach doctor, ear doctor, a pediatrician, and brace maker people. I have NEVER, not once (ok once) been treated like I deserve to be a patient. Really. All those appointments. And I don't even think they know who I am!!! Seriously.

Today changed all that. Really. It did. I switched doctors. Why you ask? Because my previous doctor doesn't even know who I am and the people in the office are just well, down right rude. And they don't deserve my business. :) So I changed.

I called to make an appointment and wouldn't you believe. The woman on the other end didn't sound like I was the most annoying person, calling about the same problem as the last 10 people. She was friendly.

That same face greeted me when I walked in. With a smile. A smile. Can you believe it? I filled out my paperwork and then she took a picture of me.... ya. scary. But they cared enough to know who I was so they took a (very scary) picture of me.....

Well aside from all the friendliness. The doctor did not deliver to me the greatest news. I have Iliotibial Band Syndrome AND Greater Trochanteric Bursitis. What does that mean? PAIN. PAIN. PAIN. PAIN. ON a scale from 1 to 10.... my pain is about an 8. Really. Not even kidding. So I got a steroid shot, which hurt bad by the way, and a prescription for some non narcotic pain meds. And the worst of all is. NO MARATHON. As a fellow runner, he was really sorry. Me too. Me. Too.

If you want to know where I went that was SO awesome???? I will tell you.

http://skylinefamilymedicine.com/

Check them out.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Firsts, Lasts, Never

The advice I gave my brother and sister in law.... she is 41 weeks. 5 days over due. Poor thing:

Enjoy the last time you will get to take a nap whenever you want. The last time you eat dinner without holding a baby or tending to a child. The last time you will get a good night's sleep. The last time you will worry only about yourself. The last time you will cook dinner without babe in arms, on your leg, or calling your name from the other room. Enjoy the last time you can watch a movie uninterrupted. The last time you can go to the grocery store without lugging a car seat, stroller, diaper bag, purse, keys, and cell phone... oh a a baby. Enjoy the last time for it being just you and your spouse.

And prepare yourself for the firsts. The first time you hold a baby in your arms. The first time he smiles. The first time he talks. The first time you go to church with a new baby. The first time you kiss him. The first time he holds your hand. The first time he says mama. The first time you go to the store lugging said car seat, stroller, diaper bag, purse, and baby. The first time you take him to a movie. The first time he scoots, crawls, walks. The first time your mom is a grandma. The first time your mom is a grandma for the 5th time. The first grandson with the last name of Walter. Prepare your self for all the firsts.

And then....

Never take for granted those nights you are up all night holding a crying baby. Never take for granted the first time he says mama, or looks up at you with those baby blue eyes, or when you give him a bath. Never take for granted even in those frustrating moments that you get your baby for one more hour, one more day, one more week, one more month. Never take for granted the times you want to pull your hair out because you still haven't showered, done the dishes, cooked dinner, or exercised today, because all you did was hold your baby. Never take for granted the perfectness of you little one. Never take for granted that you get to take your baby to the store with said above truckload of items. Never take for granted that you get to hold your baby while you cook dinner. Never take for granted that your days of a good night sleep are gone or that you can no longer "plan." Because inevitably you will be ready to walk out the door, your baby will spit up, poop, or start screaming for no reason at all and the best laid plans can't plan for that. Never take that for granted because...........

You never know when it will all be taken away.

Friday, January 22, 2010

Lunch with the Girls

About 10 years ago, my uncle died. There were several women at the time who had all lost their husbands within a short period of time. They all began hanging out together. Going on trips together. Getting lunch together. Relying on each other.

At the time, I thought this was rather hmmmm comical? interesting? morbid? I mean (at the ripe ol smart age of 19) weird!!!! Why would you all want to get together and have a cry a fest. Get over it. Move on.

Boy was I wrong. These women had a common bond. Something that many women had suffered before, but they were suffering now. They were in this together. They were grieving together. They were sharing their good days and buoying each other up on their bad days.

When Daxton died, I began a new journey in my life (willingly or not... more like kicking and screaming). It has been painful.

Physically painful: there were many mornings I couldn't get out of bed because it hurt so much, callings at church I hung on to by a thread because I couldn't do more than just show up, my house went to ... well... it was a mess because it just was too hard.

Devastating. I lost my right arm. Literally. Where my right arm held an infant, it was lost. Gone. Forever.

Lest I go back to that traumatizing day or last year..... AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN, I will refer you to June 2008 if my blog.

However, through all of that pain, devastation, 'hardness,' I have met the most talented, fascinating, strong, devoted, beautiful women. EVER. Not. Even. Joking. They are what get me through the hard times. They are the ones that are in this WITH me. They are the ones I call on when I can't/couldn't endure one more hard day.

About every 6 months, we all get together and have lunch. We don't necessarily talk about our losses. It is just where we all can go to a 'safe' place if you will. We can speak openly, candidly. Sometimes we have new 'angel moms' and sometimes we have the old ones. :). But each time, I leave feeling a little bit better. A little bit stronger. A little more like I can go on. If 'so and so' can do it, so can I. If they can make it through the first year, so can I. It is funny now, because I am now the "oldest" angel mom in our little group.

It wasn't so long ago that I felt alone. That no one had done this before me. Yet here I am. Surrounded by these amazing women. Women I never would have met if Daxton hadn't passed away (which no offense I would give up our friendships.... and truth be told, they would too :)). Yet again. Here I am. Amidst greatness. I don't attest to being anything great. But I am sure glad that I have others I can look to for strength.

SO thanks girls. Thank. You. So. Much.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

Seriously????

Well I was wondering if the day would come.....

I have been training for 4 LONG months. 8 Miles no longer seems LONG. In fact our "short" runs consist of doing 12 miles.

We have completed

1-13 mile run

1-14 mile run

1-15 mile run

2-16 mile runs

2-17 mile runs

1-18 mile run

1-19 mile run

1-20 mil run

AND Many Many Many "short" runs like 8's, 9's, and 12's. In fact, I had to read "17 miles is not normal to run" about 4 times before I actually started to believe it (that is AFTER I said it to myself 12 times every hour for 2 days straight).

.... So it is NO wonder that I have injured myself. I believe that I have pulled my rectus femoralis muscle (after the 20 miler.... go figure). That is the muscle that attaches your hip and knee along the middle part of your thigh. Ya. It is a little painful. So when you see me limping. Please don't laugh.

I have shed many a tears through the pain. Through the let down that perhaps after all the above mentioned runs, if I don't complete the marathon it will be all for naught. The training is the hard part. The marathon is the easy part. And if I can't do it? Well boy that is a doozy.

You can forget the bragging rights. No one cares if you say "I trained for a marathon" They are only impressed when you say "I ran a marathon (2 if I actually finish this one)."

So here I sit. Leg propped up. At my computer. Eating peppermint bark and a few cookies. When really I should be partaking in oranges, green beans, and lettuce.... since those extra calories are going to do nothing for the figure :) since I am not running 40 miles this week. Just resting. But maybe I can sugar rush my way through the let down.

Not giving up hope yet, but if this week doesn't prove to be healing......

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Bike for Sale

For Christmas we bought Mikenna a bike. It is ADORABLE.

One problem. TOO BIG. BUMMER.

And I bought it at Target.

With cash.

And I can't find the receipt.

Don't worry, I put in a GOOD faith effort in looking for it. I donned my Nitrile gloves I bought at Costco for such an occasion as this... and began trash digging. Yes. You read correctly. Trash digging. In the garbage in the house. And in the garbage in the big black garbage can.

And Yes It Was Disgusting. And would have been worth EVERY nasty diaper, rotten orange, spilled salad dressing, and petrified egg (I bet you didn't know that a 4 day old egg could be petrified or that an orange could turn black and leave all sorts of pleasant juices and fruit flies). But it wasn't Because the receipt is nowhere to be found. Nowhere.

And via the GREAT Target return policy of if you didn't purchase it with a credit card we can track or have a receipt then you are S-O-L. And they aren't that sorry. But then again, they did lose millions and millions of dollars from those good honest people who stole product from their store only to turn around and go back to another store and receive cash for their pilfered plethora of items.

And then there is me. I don't even care if I don't get the difference in $$$ back for the cheaper smaller bike. I just want the cheaper smaller bike so I can spend hours on end teaching my daughter to ride her bike that ACTUALLY is her size. Although this is a very laughable sight.

She is quite good on her 12" bike (what possessed me to jump 2 sizes in bikes I will never know or why I didn't take her to try it on for size or why I didn't gold plate the receipt and hide it in my important documents in my fireproof safe, I will never know) but when she hops on the bike that is too big, she forgets how to ride a bike altogether, steering, pedaling, braking, steering, pedaling, braking.

So I put it out to you. All of my fellow blog readers who live in the Arizona vicinity. Do you want to buy a bike?

http://www.target.com/Girls-Schwinn-DeeLite-20-Bike/dp/B00006JIE9/ref=sc_qi_detaillink

If you are interested in this wonderful bike, please leave an email address where I can contact you :) and we will go from there. The item in the store was $100 (see my dilemma? a bike that is too big.... and no good) PLUS tax. So I offer it to you at $85 and NO TAX :). Aren't I a saint? I know. I know.

Saturday, January 16, 2010

T.W.E.N.T.Y. MILES

Yes that says 20 miles. I thought I was going die. I think if I didn't know any better I would say I hit the wall today. It hurt. A Lot.

But it was our last "long" run before the marathon.

And it was only 20. We still have 6.2 after that for the marathon. It will be a treat. Or something.

I would like to thank my husband for being so supportive and watching the kids whilst I arose at 430am every other Saturday to run and he watched the kids. And never complains.

And today when I can't even take two steps without wanting to fall over. He takes them for a walk. Or rubs my shoulders.

I put my shoes on, or my sandals rather, and noticed a HUGE blister the size of my little toe, on my big toe. It hurts. But I try not to look at it. It hurts less :).

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Gramos are the BEST

What can I say? Gramos are the BEST!!!

I mean how many gramos do you know will take you to the dollar store and

walk out with a loot like this?

Or take you to get your toes done, Like this?

Or your Finger nails, Like this?

EVERY other Saturday while Mom sleeps?

Not very many.

And Lets not forget the Kisserbella. (no that isn't her REAL name, but we sure like it and that is what we call her.

She spends half her life in the high chair. Snacking. On the table. While I cook. Or eat.

OH I seriously LOVE her :) Sorry dad. I think it is a great pic of you :)

And who doesn't love going to the cabin in Heber. With a broken heater. In the winter. When you are from MESA. Where it is NEVER cold? We do. We did. Then we came home. Because this is the attire we donned while there.

O I love this face. Isn't she the cutest little dear you have EVER seen? She will only eat salted crackers. No sweet ones for her. Whose kid is she anyway?

She is too big for this. Too big I say.

Where did the time go? She will be one soon. Jan 23 to be exact.

Sunday, January 3, 2010

Just a Memory

I crawled into bed and then I crawled right out.

I usually enjoy Fast and Testimony meetings. I do. Usually.

A sweet older woman said today, (and there was a preface, but it isn't really that important. Ok maybe it is, but it isn't what I remember) "When you lose a child they become just a memory."

I am sorry? REWIND. What did she just say? I looked over at Doug. Apparently he wasn't paying attention, or maybe he was which was why I couldn't get his attention. Seriously? Seriously?

I am sure she has had her fair share of trials. I am sure of it. Really. I am. But seriously? Why not say something like, "oh and that time you didn't have enough money to buy bread?" or "when you were in that car accident, but everybody was ok" or "when you were fat and now you are skinny" or "when you locked yourself out of the car" or "your dog died." Those my friends are memories.

Why use something SO dramatic? SO close to home? I mean seriously? SERIOUSLY???? There are TWO people I KNOW who are listening that have "lost a child who is now just a memory that we will look back on." SERIOUSLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Why would you say something like that? WHY o WHY o WHY? Especially when you are NOT one of the TWO that HAVE lost a child?

I am glad that I am not easily offended (or maybe I am.... I just observed all the CAPITAL letters and !!!! points included :)), but lets be real here. What in this world would possess you to say something so LAME!!!! I have other words, but we will stick with lame.

You know what the worst part is? It. Is. True. Really. That is the worst part. The absolute worst part.

I am not a New Year's Resolution maker. I'm just not that good. But I am a really good New Year's Resolution braker. Too bad this has to be my first 2010 post, but it is what it is. Timing is everything.

I am going on my second full year without Daxton. It is hard. But it is true. Sadly. However, I am one year closer to seeing him. Hopefully I have become a better person in the last year. Better so that I will one day REALLY be able to see him again. To raise him. To love him. To kiss him. To hold him.

And it won't just be a memory. It won't be the cold piece of paper that a photograph provides. It won't be the stale smell of the ziploc bag holding the unwashed last pieces of his laundry. It will be real.

Last year to make New Years easier (if that is possible, considering I had a total breakdown) we decided to set goals. Goals that would be attainable, doable, unbreakable. Now I don't know about you, but I have to be accountable to someone. So I decided to be accountable to Daxton. He is the one that keeps me on track. He is the one that keeps me motivated.

Why you might ask? Well the goals I set last year were supposed to be goals that would help me to better myself so that I could live with him again. I am doing that same thing this year. I was accountable last year. My goal was attainable. Hopefully I can do the same this year.

There are a few more goals this year, but hopefully I will be able to remember them and be able to accomplish them.