That was Then …

and this is Now …

What a difference a year makes!

A daddy’s boy … Baby Tad lights up the moment BT walks into the room and bursts into tears when BT departs.

A climber … managed to crawl up on a chair yesterday and enjoyed flipping the light and fan switch on and off until mom rudely put an end to the dangerous fun.

An explorer … fascinated with the contents under the sink; the first child we’ve had to install cabinet locks for.

A crawler … has taken a few steps but still prefers crawling.

An eater … inhales bananas and can devour 1/2 a peanut butter sandwich faster than either of his sisters.

A sweetheart!

We’re blessed to have you in our family, Sunshine!  Happy Birthday!

Vivi and I have been the unfortunate victims of MANY mosquito bites this summer. OUCH!!!

We both itch like CRAZY and poor Vivi swells up just like I used to as a child. Judging from her latest batch, she went outside in her panties last night.  Poor kid!

As we walked back to the car on Saturday following a fun few hours at Arbor Hills Nature Preserve, Baby Tad enjoyed his piggy back ride so much that he nearly fell asleep on BT’s shoulders.

But we’re not sure what prompted him to start sucking on BT’s head … it tasted salty? it felt prickly? it made us all laugh?

Two weeks ago today at just about this time in the morning, BT was packing for his DC trip.  I guess you could call it “packing.”  He could fit everything for a week-long trip in one of the quart-size ziplocs they hand out at the airport security checkpoints.

Anyway, none of us was all too happy about him being gone for four days while he visited family, leaving the rest of us to mourn his absence.  You see, BT is the FUN FACTOR in our family. Without him, we would be condemned to a hermit-like, regimented existence of chores, classical music, crafts and chocolate. Sorry kiddos. No more Nacho Libre, Napoleon Dynamite, or Princess Bride. No more twangy, grammatically incorrect Bluegrass. The house would be as clean as a whistle. Unfortunately, no one would feel like whistling by the time I had played drill sergeant; however, I do imagine that they’d enjoy the daily dose of chocolate that Dad tries to put the kabash to.

And being MR. FUN, it should come as no surprise that, when ticket prices plummeted just minutes before he should have been on his way to the airport, he proposed the insane idea that we ALL go to DC.

Craziness.

Where are we going to stay? What about transportation once we get there? When will the laundry and cleaning get done if I’m not here on Monday? How am I going to get everyone packed?  Ariana will miss a day of school! Carseats? Cat?

My mind was a jumble of unanswered questions. But then I paused the little program in my brain that is constantly process mapping, problem solving and over-analyzing everything just long enough to give into the folly of the idea.

Throwing caution to the wind and throwing–yes, throwing–clothes into suitcases, we rushed out the door, pausing only long enough to give the cat an ample supply of food and water and to grab the camera bag.  And despite the fact that I forgot toothbrushes, jammies, and underwear, we had a fabulous time.

So fabulous, in fact, that it makes me want to ask: “Where are you taking us this weekend, BT???”

Silence is the sharper sword.  ~Samuel Johnson

As Ariana headed off to bed tonight, she gave me a peck and a squeeze like she always does, but there was a deafening silence that accompanied the token ritual affection.

She didn’t say that she loved me.

She always tells me that she loves me before she goes to bed.

First day of school (August 2009)

I was awfully hard on her today when she reviewed her graded work from the past week with me and it wasn’t up to snuff.

Too hard on her.

But she never said anything when I harshly chastized her.

She never does.

She just sits and quietly cries.

Oh, may I learn to bite my tongue so that sweet Ariana doesn’t have to bite hers.

On our recent trip to Washington, D.C., Vivi had a terrifying experience at the hotel…

Translation:

BT was herding the kids down to the lobby and I was in the room gathering up the last of our things when I heard a scream of sheer terror.  When I realized that it was Vivi screaming, I hurried out into the hall as BT raced past me headed the opposite direction toward the stairwell.  Apparently, Vivi had stepped into the elevator (alligator) and the doors had closed behind her, trapping her inside all alone.  Thankfully, the doors reopened when I pushed the elevator call button but not before Vivi was totally freaked out.

As scary as the experience was for all of us, it makes me laugh that, anytime I tell her I’m sorry, she says, “it’s ok, momma.  It wasn’t your fault. It was daddy’s fault.”

Spanish Fork, UT (August 2009)

I believe that Christ, in addition to being the Redeemer of all mankind, was a master carpenter.

Why?

Because following the sealing of my brother-in-law’s family in the Washington, D.C. temple a few days ago , my sweet six-year-old nephew astutely observed that they were now “glued” together.

And who but The Master Carpenter could facilitate a bond to last not only for time but also for eternity?

We love you guys! Thanks for sharing your special day with us!

Breagan (adopted son of my dear friend Judy) did not choose his developmental delays, physical maladies, and behavioral challenges.  He had no voice in the choices of his biological mother that resulted in his daily doses of strong mood-altering medications, special schooling, and an uncertain future.

FACT:  FASD (Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders) is the leading known preventable cause of mental retardation and birth defects, and a leading known cause of learning disabilities.

FACT: FASD annual births are higher than autism, Down’s Syndrome, cerebral palsy, cystic fibrosis,  and spina bifida – COMBINED!

There’s a whole lotta pledging going on these days (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqcPA1ysSbw).  (“I pledge allegiance to the funk, the United Funk of Funkadelic”???? “I pledge to be a servant to our president”??? HEAVEN HELP US!!!)

Sorry, Hollywood. I can’t pledge to never use the plastic bags at the grocery store.  And I will continue to flush the toilet.  And I will probably always have a tendency to drive a little faster than I should.  But I do pledge to help bring the dangerous consequences of alcohol consumption during pregnancy to the forefront of our social conscience with the hope that children like Breagan and families like Judy’s can be spared the devastating effects of FASD.

To learn more …

The Center for Disease Control and Prevention has put out a fact sheet on Fetal Alcohol Spectrum Disorders.

Also the National Organization for Fetal Alcohol Syndrome has a website with wonderful information, links, helps, educational information, etc., that you can look at.

Few people would look at Miss Vivi and think her capable of being anything but sweet and demure, but behind her innocent smile is a spunky little spirit. Just ask Aunt Heidi.

(Heidi & Vivi feeding the ducks in Spanish Fork, UT–August 2009)

One summer morning while at Bear Lake, Uncle David took the kids snake hunting. Thankfully, all they found was a skin which Vivi proudly carried inside to show Ho.

As I sat in the bedroom at the back of the cabin feeding Baby Tad, I heard Heidi’s blood curdling scream of sheer terror followed by Vivi’s attempt to restore order with logic: “But it’s not alive … it’s only skin.”

“I don’t care if it’s not alive, sweetheart. I don’t like snakes. They scare me,” was Heidi’s patient reply as she shooed Vivi out the door.

Chaos erupted again a few minutes later, but this time I heard Vivi’s Bart Simpson-like giggle. The little tow-headed tormentor had discovered Ho’s achilles heel and had returned with her scaly prize to exploit the chink … and I remained hidden in the back room, grateful that Vivi had identified a new victim for her shenanigans.