Thursday things

I just hosted my first book club meeting!  Now I really AM a real adult!

(The book: Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, a good yet quick-and-easy Halloween read.)

So of course, the day was a nightmare.  Lex woke up sick, pulled a pillow into her morning shower (that's what I get for trying to edit photos while the kids are occupied!), and didn't take a good afternoon nap.  I ran some errands, forgot that my visiting teachers were coming over, taught a less-than-stellar history class, didn't get my house vacuumed. I did make dinner, but Slice didn't get home from work until after book club was supposed to start, so his food was cold and gross (and I was wiped out).

Another day in paradise!

Wednesday woes

About 6 months ago I was sitting down with a(nother) new doctor, telling her my woes of chronic fatigue.  I told her about my long bout of strep that became recurring bouts of strep. I was certain it turned into mono that had remained untreated - and wondered aloud if the combination somehow caused my hypothyroidism.
(I'd been reading up on the internet.  Doctors looooove it when patients do this, I know.)

She didn't think so, but ordered an ultrasound on my thyroid and some bloodwork to test for Epstein-Barr virus.  A week later I got a phone call. "Your ultrasound looks great, thyroid blood levels are fine .... but it looks like you have a new strain of Epstein-Barr.  We don't think you're contagious, but expect to see extreme fatigue for the next 3-6 months. There's not much else we can do, sorry."
And that was that.

So, summer saw me in survival mode. Slice worked many many hours, I somehow wrenched my back (what am I, 50?!) and soon, the maintenance of our house became more than I could handle.  Forget about the weeds turning into trees in the yard!
Matt & Kim lived in the basement for a few months, which was great.  The kids played together, we ate joint meals, they helped with cleaning and projects around the house that otherwise would not have gotten done.  I was a little less lonely without Slice around.

I think things are getting better now.

Tuesday talk

Second item of business: blog names and a little update.

I've had a jolly good time referring to my children by blog names, but for some reason, the fun has worn off. I think we'll just call them Will, Emma and Lex from now on, because that's what I call them in real life.
Slice, on the other hand, can only go by as Slice here, even though we all know his name is Dorian and I call him Slice only on the blog. The name is just too near and dear to my heart.

Will is in afternoon Kindergarten at our nearest Elementary School.  I get asked sometimes if he's in public school, I guess because I teach homeschoolers at my house? But boy, am I glad to get him out of here for 3 hours a day! He needs (and loves) the social interaction and the structure. I need the small bit of peace provided.  Win-win.

crazy hair day at school last week

Will is starting to really read, which is a complete delight, one that I somehow did not anticipate.  How great is it to see the world opening up before your child's eyes???  Amazingly great.

Emma is finally in preschool (just around the corner from our house, perfect!) and, after many months of begging, ballet. She is loving and excelling at both.

"Look Mom! A crown pumpkin!"

Emma is mourning the loss of her best friend and cousin, Grace.  Grace moved away from Roosevelt and we still have to talk about it all the time. It's tragic.

Lex is 20 months, recently moved from the crib to the bottom bunk of our trusty toddler bunk beds.  We did one night without a binkie before we gave in.  (More binkie drama surely to come ... but I'm Scarlett O'Hara! Not worrying about it today!)

"What? I wasn't doing anything."

Lex is my darling.  Oh, the laughs we have had over her love of food.  She thinks she's much older than she is, and tries to do everything her older siblings do, causing much grief and crying and accidents.  And fighting, when Will and Emma don't want her messing with the stuff they're doing.

Luckily, with everything we're involved in, I still only HAVE to leave the house 3 days a week to play chauffeur. That suits me just fine.

Monday is for Marriage

First item of business: My sister Em is getting married!

As of Saturday night (a.k.a. Halloween, a.k.a. Em's birthday AND the 3-month mark of her coming home from Uruguay) this darling girl is engaged!  She'll be sharing a last name with Kiana, which is totally weird, but we are in the Basin after all. And if you marry cousins, you just might end up with the same last name.

Here's a funny story about her fiance.
Slice grew up in the same ward as his family, so when Allen gets a mission call to Sendai, Japan (Slice's mission) we are pretty excited.  Slice vows to write, send packages, etc. etc.
Several months down the road, we pick up some nice wool socks and thermal pants, knowing that winter is coming and it will be cooooold on the streets in northern Japan.
Then these items sit on my counter for WEEKS, just waiting for a little note from Slice.  He keeps telling me he'll write one, I keep getting irritated.
Finally, well into winter, I give up waiting.  I send a package to Japan without even a note ... but with a return address, so at least Allen knows who it's from?

Oh, hey there, blog.

I've missed you.
I don't think anyone checks you anymore - and how could I blame them? I was never super reliable to begin with - but the truth is, I miss writing on a regular/semi-regular basis.
(Journaling habits died in college.)

So here we are, November 1st, five months since my last post, and I'm gonna go radical and commit to posting every day for NaBloPoMo EVEN THOUGH I've never done it before and we're planning a 10-day trip this month and who knows if I'll even be able to post while we're gone and I might have to write scheduled posts beforehand to keep this commitment.  See the level of commitment here?  It's impressive, right?

Comments or no, I have so much to write about.

Five

Dear William,

You are five years old!  We took the training wheels off your bike today, as promised, after you asked us to a hundred times over the last several months.
That's pretty much the stage of life you're in - ready to take off.  You just recently stopped taking naps (a sad day for me). Last month you went to kindergarten screening, last week you graduated from prechool; now you're asking to peel carrots and cut strawberries for dinner. I can't wait for the adventures that will open up to you this next year as you learn to read.

Your personality is effervescent as ever. My mom said to me recently, "I think Will has only one volume: Loud!" We can only shake our heads at the enormous amount of energy you possess. You love to go play with neighborhood friends and disappear for hours.  You also love to find my phone and take silly-face selfies or watch Rescue Bots on Netflix.

You're a good big brother, especially to Lex, who thinks you are the funniest. We've had to start some conversations about NOT saying people are fat or chubby, even if (like Lex) they are.
You and Emma are partners in crime! My favorite thing in the world is when you get treats from something, and you find Emma to share with her. She does the same for you.

We love your enthusiasm, your helpful attitude, and your happy disposition. The only thing you REALLY don't like is when we force you to get dressed. Oh, the tears. I hope we can get over that as we get ready for kindergarten.

You will love school once you start in a few months. You have great social skills and a truly bright mind. We love you, and we are so excited to see what the next year brings!

Mom

Bonnie

I've been wanting (and not wanting) to write this post for quite a while now.  No matter how much time I spend thinking about it, it's not gonna write itself.  And time is of the essence: my friend Bonnie is slipping away from this life.

I wrote once before about how college friends are (maybe) the best friends you can ever have.  They see you for who you are, without the trappings of home and money and status.  They see you through the crucial life-changing-decision years, and the ones who remain are friends for life.  It's surreal to see that life ending so soon.

I first met Bons when I came back from Europe.  She was a close friend of my five new roommates and became lovingly known as our "pseudo-roommate."  In the first few weeks she mostly laid on our couch, pining over an ended relationship.  I wasn't sure what to think of her - except that at least she'd HAD a relationship, which was more than I could say.
It got better from there!

Bonnie was articulate and spontaneous and delightful, not least because she didn't seem to care what people thought of her.  She sang the tenor part in choir.  We went to a midnight showing of Pirates 3 and drove around the roundabout 20 times afterward.  We spent a weekend in Roosevelt (including Tyson!?), hiking and swimming across a freezing windy reservoir, building a bonfire and screaming at a near-crash.  She went to London, I moved out, Lu went to Jerusalem and then moved in with her.

I remember walking to a football game at Lavell Edwards Stadium and listening to her talk about her first date with Adam.  She'd been crushing on him at work; as soon as the interest was reciprocated it didn't take long. She was so happy.  They got married a couple weeks before Slice and I did.

Bonnie moved across the country and had two babies close to mine, and we became blog friends.  I loved her wise comments on my musings and her posts about life with an opera singer.  Then she got cancer.  And she wrote beautiful, humorous and heart-wrenching things about her experiences with treatment.
She got a grim diagnosis.  She accepted it with courage and grace.

I've watched Bonnie mostly from afar, these last several years.  But I'm so grateful for what I have learned from her.  I've learned to cherish the mundane moments of young motherhood. to count myself fortunate to be with these kids another day. I've learned to be more patient with myself and others. To love more completely.

I'm learning to find the humor, the joy in dark times. I'm trying to be more generous. More brave.

I think of Bonnie and her family often, wishing there was something any of us could do to change this course.  But her beautiful children are a legacy to a great woman - to two wonderful people who love each other - a loving Heavenly Father and an eternal bond.
Thank you, Bonnie, for everything.  I'll love you forever.

UBOC

My life for the last few weeks has been pretty much consumed by UBOC.

We had sectionals every Tuesday evening, 3-hour rehearsals on Saturdays and one all-day marathon that left us totally wiped out. (Especially me, because I was singing first soprano and Mack Wilberg is NOT EASY on his first sopranos.  I'll tell you what.)
Plus, we had to commute to Vernal every time.
BUT OH.
SO WORTH IT.
The feelings are indescribable, really, so I'll just say that we came away from rehearsals strangely energized. Craig Jessop is a true master and still, the kindest conductor I've ever seen. It was remarkable to watch him correct, cajole, shape and conjure. He gave us direction and laughter and fascinating anecdotes, not to mention all the catch-phrases.
We loved him.

When I left BYU, I didn't expect to sing in a good choir again. My hard-earned skills were doomed to decay. I've been thinking a lot about the many (so many!) hours I spent in the Madsen Recital Hall, the lonely times and the solace of music. The joy I found in being part of something bigger than myself.
And that's what choral singing is to me: becoming one. A single conductor, a single song, many voices with a single goal.  Creating something beautiful.
There's really nothing else like it.

Lucky's First Birthday

Dear Alexis,

I've been saying "Third time's the charm!" for a year now.  YOU are the charm.  You came to us with your curly hair and your daddy's dimple and the mildest disposition. You charm us all with your sweet, happy spirit. We are so lucky to have you in our family.

Somehow you're jolly and snuggly and fearless at the same time.  You never care about getting hurt.  You'll climb all over things, fall and smack your head, cry for a second and try it again. Rinse, repeat. That's why you walked early. It drives me totally crazy.

Your brother and sister LOVE you, and you want to be like them so badly.  You chase them up and down the hall (and stairs!), reach into their bathtub, grab their toys, and give them multiple kisses before going to bed.  They laugh and kiss you back, tickling to hear you giggle and begging for more hugs.  Your favorite thing in the world is eating.  And it shows.

We didn't have the easiest start, you know.  For the first months of your life I was stressed beyond anything I'd experienced before.  My milk wasn't fatty enough, you didn't gain weight, and you didn't (couldn't?) take naps in our tiny house with two noisy toddlers.  We were trying to move.  I fixed and painted and cleaned and nursed and stressed and cried, feeling all alone with your dad gone as much as he was.  It was HARD.  And I was so grateful for the help I got from my parents, siblings and friends, without whom I surely would have landed in a mental hospital.

Things got better!  You took bottles and slept better, we sold the house and Daddy finished his fire training.  You got your own room.  We spread out in our new house and it made a huge difference.  We are in a good place as a family.  We've been so blessed.

When I look back at the last year, I can see the wonder of God's timing.  He knew when to send you to us, so all the other things we didn't know we needed could work themselves out.  I'm grateful for you and the sheer joy that you bring to my life every single day. I hope you keep your curiosity and love for life always. I adore you.
Mom

J

Two days after the car accident, my sister and her husband came back to Roosevelt.  Sunday evening our favorite Dr. offered to do an ultrasound, just to make sure everything was okay with Ki's 17-week pregnancy.
It wasn't.

The ultrasound showed no heartbeat, and after some other tests, they decided to admit her into labor & delivery the next day.  Ang and I stayed up late trying to put together a baby quilt like my mom has made for all of her grandbabies.  It wasn't perfect, but it was something to take to the hospital.

She delivered a broken baby boy, and they buried him in the local cemetery.

We all kind of sat around for a week, visiting and grieving and being with each other.  Brent & Megan came from Missouri (to attend another funeral, actually).  We talked about the most important things.  We remembered that the most important thing is being together.

Eventually, Ki and Sheldon still had to go home, to heal and get back to their "normal" lives.  The new normal.