Of Things Lost

According to my subconscious, my two youngest children died this month.

A few weeks ago, our family was swimming in a strange, stone complex of lifeguardless pools. There were lap pools and wading pools. All had stairs descending to the bottom; all were surrounded by gray, stone walls streaked with lime and rust and calcium deposits. One pool held my particular fancy. It was like a cube of water: twelve feet by twelve feet and twelve feet deep. It reminded me of the hippopotamus pool I used to stare into at Hogle Zoo when I was a kid. I couldn't see it, but like that pool at the zoo, I knew that somewhere behind me was a display of things that had been lost in the pool: false teeth, candy wrappers, sunglasses, purses... I watched my three oldest children swim confidently back and forth across the gaping green-black abyss. Then, Ammon, my youngest child waddled over from the wading pool and leapt fearlessly into the deep water. I was right by him, near the edge, and I jumped in, reached for him. I felt his soft flesh against my fingertips, but could not find a handhold, anything to grip. He slipped beyond my grasp and sunk like a lead ball to the bottom, one more addition to the collection of lost things.

Then, two nights ago, Jack and I played together at the top of a cliff. We were, in turns, at a carnival, a spectacular show, a meeting, a worship service, but always at the edge of a dizzyingly high cliff. Below us were trees and sandstone arches and white-picketed-suburban neighborhoods. At the last, we stood together in front of an audience, swinging back and forth on pine two-by-fours, holding tight to the rough and splintery rope that suspended the boards. People on the cliff above clapped and cheered, the immense scene of homes and arches and trees spread forever below us. We swung and laughed, exhilarated. Then Jack let go of the rope. "Grab the rope! Hold on tight!" I shouted, sure he was about to fall. I reached for him with one hand, caught just the seam of his shirt as he pulled away from me and plummeted to his death. The dream did not have the mercy to end there, but seemed to drag for months as it followed me through my grief. All of my days were dark, everything was inkstained black. In one scene, I had just given a powerful reading of my poetry. Then, as people asked to buy my chapbook I kept lowering the price. $4. $3. $2. It ended with me parting gladly with two copies for a handful of homemade, purple, sparkly play dough. I gave another copy away for a bowl full of noodles. 

I'm not sure if every parent feels this way, but for years I've been waiting for that proverbial shoe drop, anticipating always in the corner of my mind the day when one of my precious ones is taken from me. Each year it doesn't happen I heave a sigh of relief and brace myself anew.


So, dreams of disaster aren't uncommon for me.


These dreams, though...  They have a different feel—like my spirit, my soul, the universe, His Spirit, is trying to speak with me in the language of things that are lost.


I've felt no great sense of losing my little ones, no catch-your-breath falling feeling in my waking hours, but I have felt a slow, creeping inkling of loss.  Inch by inch, these gorgeous boys are getting away from me.  They are growing up too fast. I will not be the mother of little boys for much longer—these next few years will probably feel like a fast, fleeting dream.


But is it more than that?


Of course there is the mother-guilt.  How can I be going to school when these boys are so little???  But, the path I'm on right now was also dream-wrought, shown to me by soul-whispered and divine guidance.  And I've received powerful confirmation, even very recently, that it is the right path for me to be walking now and that I am walking it at the right pace.  

That moment I sold my poetry for so much less than I think it's worth said a lot to me, though. There are things that, soul-purpose or not, are not the most important things to me.  And am I selling myself short?  Exchanging my time and energy for the lesser things, the things that will enrich my life and the lives of those I love the least?

I only have questions right now.  No answers.  And that's ok, because that questioning, open, humble space is where I learn the best.  I know that something in my life needs to change, that it has something to do with my children, my motherhood, my priorities.  I'm praying and seeking and trusting that a whisper will come soon and show me the way.

Love and Kisses With Coco

Coco is snuggling on my lap.  We've been talking and cuddling and kissing all morning.

"Oh, Coco," I tell him, "Sometimes I love you so much I just want to burst."

He kisses me square on the lips.

"Kissing is love that comes bursting out of your body," he says.

Sigh...

Conversation With Coco

Me: How did I get so lucky to be your mom?
Coco: Because I choosed you!
Me: You did? You chose me? Why did you choose me?
Coco: Because you're the best mom ever! And you take care of me and you're nice all day!

**melt my heart**

Like when he says "I love you more than chocolate chips!"

Love this little boy! He can be sooooo challenging, but the payoff is so great!

Let Me Show You a Story of Coco's Front Teeth

They came in all cute, like this, poking pearly white through the gums. But they had a problem -- defective enamel.

Thus, the slightly pitted teeth turned into brown and crumbling teeth.

Which led to this -- major dental work under anesthesia.

His dentist armor-plated them and tried to make them look as natural as possible.

Two weeks later he was running and, you guessed it, hit his teeth.  Hard.  We thought they'd fall out, but I prayed like crazy and they stayed in.  But they never looked as good after that.  And the dentist said they'd be more prone to infection after trauma like that.

Fast forward about a year. Coco starts having big pustules above his teeth that hurt and drain when they're popped or bumped.  (You can thank me now for not posting pictures of that!) We return to the dentist.

Sure enough, all four top front teeth are abscessed. They all have to be removed.  Coco looks like this for two months. Except the gaping holes went away after a few days.

The dentist makes Coco a glued-in retainer with four new prosthetic teeth.  He looks so handsome.

Two hours later.

Three hours later.

We return to the dentist.  He saves the day by fixing and replacing the retainer. AND (bless him) does not charge us for the second visit.

Coco has a super week and a half with his new chompers.

No words.

Here they are. Waiting for repair. For Mommy to decide it's worth it to pay to fix them and try again. For now he's happily sticking his tongue out with his mouth closed and chomping from the side and not eating corn on the cob.

Coco Quote

"Mommy, I need diaper change. I 'mell 'tinky and da big kids won't pway wif me."

Conversations With Coco

Coco cracks me up lately.

Among other things, I love it how he always comes to me crying and blurts out "Daddy (or Kaitybean or Mashuga or Scud) day me NO!" Telling Coco no is one of the worst things you can possibly do to him.

He has also started experimenting with pitting mommy and daddy against each other.

Like today for instance. We got home from the library and he wouldn't get out of the car.

"Coco, it's time to get out and go inside," I told him.
"No. It not. I tay," he calmly replied.
"No, Coco. It's time to come in the house!"
"Daddy day me yes! I tay!"

Then, just a few minutes ago I sat him at the table with a bowl of ice cream (mainly because it is the only food we have left in our house right now). Moments later, I look over to see him flinging the ice cream across the table and on his chair.

"Coco! I gave you ice cream so you could eat it, not fling it around the kitchen!"

I promptly took it away and came back to the table with a washcloth.

Coco looked at me sheepishly and said very calmly, "Mommy day me no."
"That's right. I told you no. Is that because you made a wrong choice?"
"Um. Yes. I dorry. It be otay. You no be mad."

How could anyone possibly be mad after that?

I love this kid.

Why?

One of Coco's favorite words, lately is "Why?".

"Coco, time to get dressed."
"Why?"

"No, you can't have any candy right now."
"Why?"

Or if it's really serious...
"No, you can't play outside right now."
"Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?!?"

Sometimes I answer him. Sometimes I give him more answer than he wants and that seems to be pretty effective. It goes like this:

"Coco, it's time to get pajamas on."
"Why?"
"Because it's bedtime."
"Why?"
"Because it's getting dark outside."
"Why?"
"Because the earth has been rotating all day and has now rotated to the point where the sun is going to be on the other side of the earth for a few hours. So now it's time for us to have nighttime and for children on the other side of the earth to wake up and play."
"Oh."

My absolute favorite "Why?" moment of the last week was a few days ago. I was putting him to bed and he was having a particularly hard time going to sleep. Daddy came in to help. I'd already told him his two favorite stories (three bears and three pigs). So Daddy came up with another story.

"Once upon a time there were three sharks..."
"Why?"

We laughed and laughed and laughed. And it took even longer for Coco to settle down and go to sleep. But it was so worth it.

Mischief Can Be SO Exhausting

So, I'm Not a Photographer

I'm not so great at the photography thing. Concepts like foreground and SLR and composition and shutter speed completely baffle me. It always frustrates me that JDub can take a picture of the exact same subject I've shot and it is breathtaking. Mine, blah. That's if it's even clear. I'd like to take a photography class sometime soon so that I can get better. I dream of having one of those blogs with pictures that are like chocolate for the eyes. Ahhh...

So, aside from my obvious lack of photographic-talentedness, my subjects are also hard to get a handle on.

Case in point. Coco got into some pink sugar yesterday and I HAD to take a picture. So, I grabbed JDub's iphone couldn't find our regular camera.

This is the hilarity that ensued:










Finally, a mostly clear picture with a smile and most of his head. That, my friends, counts as success for me.

By the way, isn't he darling? I'm a bit partial to that sweet face.

Rites of Passage

After almost ten years as a mother I once again feel thoroughly initiated.

This weekend I suffered through a severe bout of mastitis -- fever up to 105 degrees, uncontrollable shaking, headache, body aches, chills. Oh, and my right breast had a lump the size of a ping-pong ball and was hot, red, angry, swollen and painful.

You know the last time I had mastitis? Either it wasn't very severe or it wasn't mastitis because it most certainly wasn't this.

So, last night I went to the doctor to get antibiotics. I would have gone on Saturday in hopes of getting relief sooner, but I was too sick to go to the doctor! If it hadn't been the weekend I probably would have just called my midwives office to have them phone in a prescription. Saturday was one of those days that I wished doctors still did house calls.

So, a visit to the Instacare at 8pm Sunday was my best solution at the moment. It was rather an amusing visit. The doctor who happened to treat me seemed very embarrassed. He took my word for it and trusted from my description of the symptoms that it was, indeed, mastitis. He had a very difficult time saying the word "breast". I had a very difficult time not laughing at him. Though I did have a good laugh on the way home.

I now have a prescription ready to go, but I'm not sure if I will fill it. This morning I feel much better and after hot compresses with mullein, garlic, peppermint and goldenseal the pain in my breast has subsided almost completely. The lump is now much, much smaller. The redness is going away. So, I think I'll watch and wait for a few more hours and fill the prescription if I don't see continued improvement.

These rites of passage are an interesting thing. And I find that I learn as much or more from the difficult ones as I do from the more positive ones. If nothing else, I am always so grateful for compassion I learn for others when I go through my own sets of difficulties, no matter how small they are.

I am sensing that there is another rite of passage coming quickly for Coco and I -- weaning. Now, to the staff at the instacare last night who looked at me cock-eyed when I told them I was still nursing my 14 month old, this may not seem like anything unusual. But to me, who believes that it is perfectly normal, even desirable, to breastfeed for the first two years it feels like premature weaning. I recognize that mine is the unconventional view -- that most mothers have weaned long before now without a backward glance -- but I've always allowed my children to self-wean and I think it has turned out nicely for us.

Still I am sensing it is time for us. For many reasons breastfeeding is no longer a mutually pleasant and positive thing. I'm feeling my way through this, but think it may be time to make the break. We shall see how it goes.

Pictures, Pictures and More Pictures

First, some photos of our Valentine's Day Sugar Cookies because it's my blog and I'll post holiday cookie pictures a month late if I want to.





Next, we'll move on to two cute pictures of Kaitybean. These are very common facial expressions for her and they crack me up.



Oh, and see how much she and Mashuga love each other?



And now we shall move on to Coco pictures. I adore this kid.

"Je t'adore! Je t'window! I don't care!" (Anybody know that movie?)

Here's Coco playing with Daddy:



And sleeping with Daddy:



And getting into a tub of frosting and making a mess:




And after he fell on the ice in our driveway and scraped his cute face:



And playing outside on the trampoline, one of his new favorite activities:




Here's what dinner often looks like at our house:




And last of all, these may look like icicles to you. But these, my friends, are winter roses. My sweet husband and children have been picking them for me often. At first I thought they were a bit crazy, now I think it's adorable. And they really are beautiful.



So, that's it for now. Sorry, quite the overload, I know. I really need to get into the habit of unloading pictures from my camera and posting them here frequently, rather than waiting for months and then deluging you with photos of my crazy family.

Hope you enjoy.

Can You Say Hematoma?

Or "OUCH!"

We took the kidlets to see "Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium" last night. Don't ask me for a review of the movie. What I saw was quite fun, but I didn't see much.

It was a fiasco from the beginning. Just as the movie was starting, the man behind me tapped me on the shoulder and handed me Mashuga's shoes. Apparently Mashuga had taken them off and dropped them behind his seat. Then, a little later I looked over and he had no pants on. None. What the?!? So, I handed Coco off to JDub and proceeded to look on the floor for his pants. I found them almost behind our seats, because apparently he had gotten stuck between the back of the seat and the front and his pants came off when he wiggled his way free.

Then, Kaitybean was kicking the back of the seats and kicking her legs and being entirely too fidgety.

Then Mashuga started to do the same and when I tried to get him to stop he exclaimed, very loudly "But, I'm playing!"

Then there was the part where Coco wouldn't sit still for more than 2.5 seconds. He was spinning around on my lap and trying to get down and going back and forth from me to JDub. I'd forgotten that little ones reach the age where you can't take them to a movie and expect them to stay still and go to sleep. Coco has officially reached that age, so we will be hiring a babysitter for him next time we go to a movie.

Because Coco was obviously not up for a movie, JDub and I took turns out in the foyer with him, letting him wander around. When it was my turn, I decided to let him walk around a bit in the back of the theater where there were no seats. It worked well for a while, until he decided to make a mad dash for the aisle. I grabbed him, but he was going too fast for me, so I only got his legs. With his momentum, this meant that he fell forward and hit his head on the hard, sticky floor with a loud thump. A few people gasped and I hurriedly scooped him up and went out of the theater.

He was mad! He screamed and wailed and cried. I took him outside because I was afraid he'd upset everyone in every movie. As soon as we went outside, he calmed down a bit. Then, as I walked back in I looked at his forehead and saw the ginormous bump. Now, I've been a parent for almost ten years now and I've NEVER seen a bump that big on one of my children's heads. Especially one that developed in less than two minutes.

So, I freaked out. I went into the theater and told JDub that I needed him immediately. He came out and was also a little disturbed to see a large golfball sticking out of our son's forehead. He took a couple pictures, then gathered the other kids so that we could take Jack to the doctor.

We called JDub's brother (who is a chiropractor) on the way and he said that it was normal for small children to get large lumps on their heads after a fall and that we should probably just watch him for signs of concussion. I decided that, though he was probably right, I'd prefer to have someone look at him just for my own peace of mind.

Sure enough, by the time we got to the Instacare, the bump had lessened a bit and Coco was walking around and acting normally. They didn't even check us in or charge us a copay. The Dr. just looked at him for a minute, shone a light in his eyes and told us to keep a good eye on him and wake him up every 2 or 3 hours during the night.

"He's either just fine or he'll need a CT Scan," he said, "and we can't do anything for either one here."

So, we drove home and put our sleeping children to bed. Coco is fine this morning. You can barely tell he even had a fall. So, that goes to show that first time parents aren't the only ones who freak out over their children's injuries.

And at least one good thing came of all of it. I'm sure that the people who were sitting near us during the movie were very happy to see our family leave the theater.

Mastitis and Other Updates

Thank you all so much for your well wishes and love! Also, thanks for the advice and suggestions. I will have many more ideas to draw on next time. Hopefully there won't be a next time, but at least I'll be ready.

Thankfully it did not progress to full-blown, fevered mastitis. I had the warm, swollen, burning, painful breast. And the nausea and body aches and fatigue. But no fever.

So, Coco and I slept a lot and nursed a lot and I drank a lot of water and took lots of warm baths. By Saturday afternoon I was feeling pretty much back to normal. Thank goodness.

Again, thank you all so much.

So, Saturday afternoon I had the chance to go to my sister-in-law Jamie's surprise party. I just love this woman. She is the one on the far right of the picture above. So much of the good that I am has come from knowing her. She so effortlessly loves and lifts and blesses others. She is loyal and kind. She is so smart about so many things and knows how to work hard. Add to this the fact that she's beautiful, hilarious and just plain fun to be around. She also has such an amazing testimony of our Savior and such a graceful way of always trying to be more like him. Now don't you wish she were your sister in law?

The other woman in the picture (the one in the middle with the pigtails) is my sister-in-law Trishelle. I met Trishelle when I was fourteen years old. She is actually the one who introduced me to my husband and I would be obligated to love her if that were the only good thing she'd ever done. But, she is also just so wonderful. She is beauty and light and love. She is one of the most joyful, exuberant people I have ever known. But she is also so good to help others, mindful to their needs and always willing to do what she can. She is an amazing mother, wonderful with all children and has that rare gift of being able to see good in every person and every thing. She also is a great example of faith and helps everyone around to be a better person. Again, aren't I lucky. I've said before that marrying into JDub's family has been fun because of all the brothers I get to have. I am equally honored and grateful to have such wonderful sisters. I have two other marvelous sisters that I should blog about sometime soon also. I just had this picture...

Back to the update...

After the party, we stayed at Trish's house to watch Transformers. As we were getting kids settled down and dinner made, JDub's younger brother opened the oven with Coco right by it. Coco did what any curious, walking 10 month old would do. He walked right up to the oven and put his hand on the inside of the oven door. His poor little left hand is now covered in blisters.

He was very, very upset that night, but after we got him taken care of and calmed down he slept through the night. It hasn't seemed to bother him too much since. We are, of course, keeping a close eye on it and slathering it with aloe.

So, that was my last few days. How were yours?

P.S. Jamie, I hope you don't mind that I stole your picture and your idea. I saw your blog and just couldn't help copying you. :)

Lalalala

Still writing away on my novel. I've got two or three rough chapters finished.

On another note, I think Coco may now have Thrush. First Herpangina, now this. Poor little guy. I'll be calling Dr. Mumford the Magician in a few minutes.

But look at how cute Coco is. This picture was taken last Friday.



And guess what I found today?

A drive-through market! After my sadness at the loss of my dearest Grocery Guys, I think I may try this market out and see what I think. Anything to avoid the torture that is grocery shopping with four children.