The Mother of All Ironies

Lyndon and I have a handful of things that we just say to each other. At this point in our relationship we almost don't even need to say them because we just know they are coming. For instance when I make him mad (or vice versa) we say, "read my mind," which translated means "bite me", but we have 6 kids and don't want them to talk that way, hence the code words...we have lots of these. One of the ones that have been around forever goes like this...He says, "I love your butt" in which I reply "I love your pancreas". I know we are weird, sorry that's just how we are. Anyway the point of this post is that after all of these years of me telling him that I love his pancreas the darn thing up and quit working....that's right my hubby is a diabetic. A few days before Thanksgiving he listed off some really strange symptoms and since his brother has been diabetic since he was 14 he knew he needed to have it checked out. After a few doctor visits and a trip to the ER we seem to have figured out what is going on. He is a type 2 diabetic (this was hard for everyone to conceive because he is skinny and super active, but as for now the medication sans insulin is working pretty well). We have both responded in our typical way to respond to things. I am on about my 16th book trying to understand and he is getting the cliff notes version from me. He has a shelf in the fridge and a shelf in the cupboard. He will be annoyed that I posted this because he is a hush hush kind of guy. I have debated on this and here is the bottom line. If you love me you love him and I want you to put him in your thoughts and your prayers. I have been writing a post in my head for about a year titled, "10 reasons why you should marry a guy with ADHD", you can't believe the stuff the guy can accomplish in an hour, but at least for now that guy seems to be gone. He is tired, he hurts, and generally he is not himself. This is what I have found out in all of this. I LOVE taking care of him, he has always insisted that he take care of himself. I am honored to be his wife and while he doesn't love all this attention he is getting it anyway....even the boys stand in line to be the ones to poke him to check his glucose! Also as a side note, I have become obsessed with all things healthy! We really can't accomplish much when our health is crummy and after a year of pregnancy and recovering from a c-section, and this diabetes thing I am completely committed to making some necessary healthy changes in this house...I won't bore you with the details, but let me tell you I am on fire....

This One’s for the Girls

A few posts ago I wrote about the Book Wild At Heart, in it we learn what makes a boy a boy. I am now reading the book titled Captivating which is the same authors about what makes a girl a girl. While I don’t agree with everything (like their take on Eve for instance), it has given me some food for thought. They suggest that women need three things: to be romanced, to have an irreplaceable role in a great adventure, and a beauty to unveil. As I first began to read I thought that it didn’t really apply to me because I have never been a real “girly girl”. As a child I planned to be a fighter pilot in the air force (I think that was inspired by Top Gun)! However, as I read on I find that in all honesty I really, deeply want all of these things! So as I take a peek at my life I have to send kudos to the hubby for a life time (almost) of doing a pretty good job at romancing me. Last week he sent me 35 roses on my 35th birthday and visited with me while he took me for a surprise pedicure (my toes look smashing)….However with that said I have to admit the other two are kind of nagging at me. I mean don’t get me wrong I walk on the wild side all of the time. Just last week I put a pair of running socks on that are labeled for the right and left feet on the wrong feet and I seriously left them that way. And, just moments ago I poured myself a bowl of raisin bran and it was all flakes and I had to use my Macgyver instincts and rustle me up some raisins….Bottom line, I am having a hard time seeing my sock pairing, diaper changing, taxi driving life in the light of an adventure. Now there are some who would argue that raising 6 boys qualifies, but today I crave something big! As for the beauty thing, me, myself and I have fought about this since the beginning of time. I am about as captivating as the back of a macaroni and cheese box! So girls what do you think? Are these really the three needs that we have as women? I have to say that in those moments before I fall unconscious from a long day (if I’m not in the middle of beating myself up over what a terrible mother I am), my dreams tend to fall into these categories every time…an unexpected surprise date, riding on a moped from village to village in Haiti with my handsome husband curing disease (OK in this dream we have some medical skills), and being invited to a ball and looking beautiful (a little unrealistic here-hubby is 14 inches taller than me and neither one of us can even dance the hokey pokey)….What about you? Romance, shared adventure and beauty, are you feeling it? The picture is of Lyndon and I after we ran a New Years Eve Race together....for the full story go back to February 2008. That was romantic, a shared adventure and nothing makes me feel more beautiful than a hard run!

"I'm Not An Angel, I'm A Cowboy"

Last night Micah was snuggled in dad's arms and dad says "your an angel" to which my three year old responds "I'm not an angel, I'm a cowboy!" I liked that. I think that is true of my life too....When I think of angel's I think clouds, all in white, quiet and harps. When I think of a cowboy I think of utility, dressed to get the job done, maybe a little electric guitar and much noisier! My life is noisy with the exception of this moment, which to tell you the truth is a little odd. So just a few things in random order....
First off my oldest baby (yes he is still my baby) turned 12 last week. He was ordained a deacon in the aaronic priesthood, rode his bike 50 miles to complete his cycling merit badge and the doctor confirmed that he is now exactly the same height as his mother. How I love this kid!
Second, Friant baby number 6 is two months old and we are crazy about him. He has a very strange schedule but he is just starting to smile at us so we don't care.
Third, we are now 2 months post baby and you know what that means, running is all a go again. Woohoo! I have been at it for around a month and a half and while I am certainly not breaking any records for speed I am doing it and that makes me happy! I am also hitting all the Zumba classes I can because that is a super good time. I am sure you would all like to join me. Heck, I can't imagine anything funnier than a middle age woman with 0 coordination jamming out to Britney Spears, come and just watch me make a fool of myself, you can get your workout by laughing! Here's my theory. You have three types at these classes...(1) Looks great, knows how to dance, should be in a rock video. (2) A little unsure so they go at it half hearted not wanting to make fools of themselves, barely breaks a sweat (3) No idea what they are doing, but there to work up a sweat and so they throw themselves into it anyway! I happily fit into category #3. I don't know what I am doing but I throw myself into it anyway and grin the whole time.
This by the way is my new motto on life: I have no idea what I am doing, but it's awesome so I am going to throw myself into it anyway and grin the whole time! COWBOY UP!

The Boy Becomes A Man

I just finished reading a book called Wild at Heart. It's all about men and what they need to be men. I felt this was an important read for me since I am not a man, married to a man and raising six potential men. This read came at just the right time as I was confronted with a biggie this morning. In the book we are told that men need three things: A battle to fight, a beauty to rescue and an adventure to live. I have one boy who is working very hard on becoming a man and is doing a mighty fine job. Kyle will be 12 next month and he has done a lot of growing over the last year. Yes, I mean size wise (he wears a size 11 in men's shoes now), but I mean all the other ways as well. This summer he went with dad and the scouts on a week long 50 mile hike, he went with our county commissioner to the Utah Republican convention, he took on the project of mowing a sweet lady's lawn in our ward each week (and this isn't a city lawn...it's huge) and he has worked along side dad with all of the projects dad has had going this summer (and with Lyndon there is no half way). So back to this morning....My son woke up and informed me that he had one more thing to do to get his Star rank in scouting. He said he needed to hike 20 miles and that he would be doing that today. I immediately said no way and began to list all of the reasons why that was not a good idea (I would list them for you, but you are mom's you know what I am talking about). He calmly told me to check with dad, that this was all worked out. You know the movie Father of the Bride where she tells her dad she is getting married and he pictures this little 6 year old in pig tails? This is what I see sometimes with my big boy. I saw it this morning, a little freckle faced 6 year old who loves Power Rangers saying, "Mom I am hiking 20 miles today alone I should be home around dinner time." Lyndon keeps telling me that this is how a boy becomes a man and my greatest wish is that these boys become like that man so I need to trust him. I put gobs of sunscreen on him and plopped that hat on him that I bought for him when he was 6 (so big then, barely covered his head this time), and tried to act cool. He has the IPOD and was looking forward to a day of listening to Glen Beck's Book of Common Sense and conference talks. He will stop half way in Annabella and grandma will make him lunch and fuss over him and then he will come home. I feel myself wanting to give that lecture so many times given to me that used to make me so mad, "love them to pieces because before you know it they will be grown up and you will remember this as the best time of your life."

White Flag of Surrender

We watched a movie the other night that was so strange that we had to keep watching just to see how it ended. At the end we looked at each other and said, "what?" It wasn't until the middle of the night in a quiet house that I got it and could see perfectly how it applied to my life. In the movie an 11 year old girl goes to the national spelling bee. Her dad has coached her for months but at the same time her mom is having her own little break down. At the end mom is in an institution because she is has been stealing little things to make modge podge decor to try and put the "pieces back together". The little girl is desperately trying to please her dad and at the same time trying to "save" her mom. In the end she is about to win and she purposely misspells a word that she knew. I was confused, she could have had it, why did she chose to lose on purpose? As soon as she looses, however her family is healed. That confused me. However at 3 in the morning with my sweet baby in my arms I got the point.

I have had in my mind a picture of what my home and family life should look like for a long time now. In that picture you would see a clean home, healthy meals and snacks, order and a place for everything. In that picture are one on one dates with the kids and the hubby, kind words spoken and voices that are never raised in anger. You would see mom and dad faithfully fulfilling their callings and doing their home and visiting teaching. I am huge into learning and so the kids would be at home learning and we would be reading voraciously for hours a day. I also believe in exercise so mom would be running and the kids would also have an active life. Mom would study, because mom loves to study and the kids wouldn't spend more than a small amount of time in front of the TV or computer. My food storage would be caught up and organized and I would be baking my own bread each day. Those are just a few of the things that I have seen in "my picture."

Last week I could clearly see that this little picture of mine was me being like that 11 year old girl. I was desperately trying to "spell" every word right and in the meantime those around me, myself included, were falling apart. I called my husband just sobbing, at work no less. Saying over and over, "I can't do it anymore!" Jamen and Isaac were homeschooling, but miserable and making everyone that lived here miserable right along with them. The sweet baby I was blessed with from heaven is a very needy baby and I was trying to hold him with one hand, correct math worksheets with the other and do laundry with my toes. It finally ocurred to me on the phone with hubby that it's true I can't do it and the bottom line is WE DON'T HAVE TOO!

So there I was choosing to misspell a word on purpose. Jamen and Isaac went back to school (two weeks late I might add) because they wanted to be there. I turned the laundry over to Kyle (it's not nearly as neatly folded or caught up as I want it to be), I quit nursing my baby (even though I know darn well it's better for him) because I have low milk supply and he was starving and cranky all of the time.

None of these things fit into "my picture" of the way things should be, but you know what? I am throwing the picture out. I am raising the white flag of surrender and turning my broken down self and family over to the Lord and doing the best with what I have got. Right now I have 6 sons who need mom to be gentle and happy more than they need to have a deep understanding of Charles Dickens. My husband needs a wife that doesn't greet him at the door in tears because she has marinated in those kids for so many hours that she just wants to run away. All of the things that have been in my picture are good things. I really meant well with every single thing. However, the Lord in his wisdom gave me 24 hours in a day and frankly with the life He has given me I can't do everything all of the time. You know I could probably do all of the things on that list, but the cost may be my sanity. The cost may be peace and harmony in our home in order to have the larundry folded perfectly and I don't want that. So for today three of my kids are in school and happy to be there. One of my kids is still home because he wants to be. He spent the morning reading Hamlet to his three year old brother, playing the violin and doing laundry. My darling baby is sleeping peacefully for the first time in days all filled up on formula and happy as can be....

Forrest Rex Friant

He's Here! Just a quick announcement about the new addition. Forrest made his debut on Monday morning, August 9, 2010. The c-section went beautifully and he was perfect right from the start. He weighed 7 pounds 5 ounces and he was 20 1/2 inches. This is supposedly a big baby, but he must be built like a Friant because newborn clothes absolutely drown him! He is sweet natured and puts up with lots of kisses and being passed around a lot! The boys adore him. Micah always wants to "pet baby Forrest" and Jamen thinks he is so sweet "he just can't stand to be away from him." I am recovering well and am happy to report that other than a wierd seizure pre c-section and a couple of rough days post I am feeling so much better! Well baby is crying, off I go to hug and cuddle my miracle!

6,7,8,9,10

We are busily preparing our home for our new arrival. I'm not sure why we feel we must deep clean every nook and cranny of our homes and organize like crazy people to bring a baby home, but for some reason we must. Now I have brought home a lot of new babies and never once has one of those babies said, "boy this place could use a good cleaning." However, I can't help myself, I can't stop cleaning. I am having so much fun in my head with the thought that my 6th son will be born at 7 AM on 8/9/10, I giggle every time I think of it and I think about it a lot! For those of you not counting down the seconds like I am that is exactly 8 1/4 days from this minute....I told Lyndon that I think I would even endure my c-section sans meds just to have it done with! In the mean time we are all getting a kick out of just exactly how large a persons ankles and belly can get. People have been really nice to pretend like I am so tiny and they can't believe that I am due already, but my honest friend (thanks Nic) cannot believe a human being can get this huge. She delivers babies for a living so she has seen her share of pregnant women! Anywho, I will probably be off the air for awhile, but just wanted to share a little of our excitement.

The picture is Lyndon with our baby Micah.

Why Do We Do This?

I am in a tither (is that a word?) Today on the day that we celebrate our freedom I am thinking about our freedom of speech. The thought that is on my mind is, Just because you are free to say something, does that mean that you should? My opinion on this is a resounding NO! In the last two days I have been confronted by several examples that remind me just how thoughtless we can all be when we speak to each other. Yesterday I came home in a stew about natural childbirth, obviously just weeks away from my fourth c-section I don't participate in that. However after a talk with a well meaning friend I could only assume that the reason I needed (or chose drugs and/or c-section) was because of my own lack of knowledge about the beauty that is natural child birth. Today I came home looking at my kids and checking to see if they chew their toe nails because of a lady telling me that is exactly what homeschooled kids do. I then took a look at my home, checking for filth because also in her opinion homeschool families live in filth, not just filth but we are talking feces type filth. Shortly after I receieved a call from one of my dearest friends who was having a rough day that I think very much stemmed from others judgement of how she does or does not do things at her house.
Let it be said. I am certain I am as guilty of this as anyone in the world! I get so excited about the things that mean a lot to me that I know I sometimes present my enthusiasm in a way that makes it seem like the world's in the wrong and I am right. But, what the last 11 years has taught me is that there is no one right way to do things. I do believe there are a list of absolute imperatives that apply to everyone (moral character being key), but when it comes to day-to- day living, raising kids and being a family that is between God, you & your spouse and your kids.
I am tired of coming home after speaking to another person (usually a woman) and questioning every single thing I ever felt good about. In the last couple of years I am doing less questioning myself and more just wishing that we could be a little more gentle with each other, a little less judgemental. One thing I have confronted over and over is when you get zealous about something people seem to automatically think that you think something is wrong with them because they don't do it too, when that happens they get defensive and then things get ugly. For example, after my third son I started running because I needed something that was all me. I loved it so much that I decided to run a marathon that year. One friend pointed out that was all well and good for me, but that she loved her kids to much to do that to them. Up until that moment I couldn't see a single reason why this wasn't good for me and my family, but then I started worrying that maybe she was right. In hind sight I see that what really happened is that she felt bad about something I was doing and couldn't let it go past until she made me feel bad about it too. I am challenging all of us to be a little more gentle with each other. Something that may work wonders for you may be a disaster for someone else. For me, for now: the majority of my kids do not leave home to be educated, one of my sons is black as black can be, I happily take myself to the hospital with all the drugs I can get and have a baby c-section, I think that reading & organizing is more fun than most any type of entertainment there is, running (preferably alone) is in my opinion, the ultimate high, and I love heavy metal (although I rarely listen to it because I am wise enough to know that isn't a great influence for any of us). As for those of you who do things completely opposite from me, you are welcome to my world. I look forward to hearing about the things you are excited about and won't ever feel like you have to do it my way to be right. I will have a tendency to get enthusiastic, maybe to a fault, about the above mentioned things, but this is not because I think you have to do it that way, this is just because I love these things. I hope we can be friends...

The Pot of Gold

If mushy makes you nervous step away from the blog post. Today I have been married for 14 years. In July I will have been in love with this guy for 19 years. Let us step back in history a bit shall we....We met when he was driving the motorcycle with his best friend on it and the said friend started chasing my friend who was driving the car that I was in. Because we thought they were someone else we stopped and met them both. I guess they got in with us, but I was in the front seat and had a boyfriend at the time so I don't really remember even talking to him. Our friends started dating, then they stopped dating and his other friend started dating the same friend and somewhere in there we became friends (and I broke up with my boyfriend, which is really key now isn't it?) I really managed to capture his heart with three things. 1. He was wearing a Motley Crue necklace type thing (this is the 90's people) and I said, "I love Dr. Feelgood". 2. A pair of purple shorts that I think were probably a little too short. 3. I tore a string off of a baja I was wearing and tied it around his arm and told him to never take it off (I was kidding, but weeks later there it was). This led up to the first call and the official date. I won't blabber forever, but I will say pretty much by the end of the night I knew we would be together for awhile, I don't think I knew about forever, but awhile. After a blissful year together he went off on a mission and I waited at home for him semi-faithfully until he came home. When he stepped off the plane, to nervous to really know what to say all he could think of was, "hey blondie" (I had been flagging all summer and my hair bleached out a bit) I knew then that I would love him forever no matter what. We have moved 12 times together, filled our house with almost 6 gorgeous sons, laughed, cried, fought like lunatics and loved each other every day since June 21, 1994. I know there are other men out there, but there is no other Lyndon and I thank God every day that he sent me the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I love you baby. Happy Anniversary.

Because We Belong Together

I am thinking tonight of my Grayson. This little miracle of mine didn't get here the same way all of the other boys around here did and as he grows it is clear he is beginning to question that a little bit. You see he spent nearly a year and a half in a crib for 23 hours a day with other babies scratching at him, hungry and sick most of the time. When he was 8 months old he was so sick that he was hospitalized for 3 weeks before I got there to nurse him back to health. Just when he was feeling better I got on a plane (by force) and left him again for another 8 months. During the time when babies learn that if they cry someone will come for them and take care of it, my little boy learned that cry all you want no one if going to be there for you. Now as he grows we see that affecting him in painful ways. He is doing all he can (subconciously) to make us crazy so that he can prove to himself that we really don't love him, that we really won't be there for him. I am going to tell you honestly that the making us crazy part is working! But, no matter how hard he tries to prove that we won't be there for him it's just not ever going to work.

You see I know without a shadow of a doubt that before the world was, I wrapped that beautiful boy in my arms and promised him that I would find him. I know that the Lord set it up for me to be his mom and him to be my son. Nothing will change that. He may have five brothers that all lived in mom's belly, he may have a chocolaty exterior in a family full of vanilla's, he may wonder why we say that we know just what grandma Friant went through raising daddy because Jamen is just like him and we don't say that for him. But, the bottom line is this. He is my son. For eternity and longer, no matter what, we were meant to be together and NOTHING will change that. I hope that he knows that while I don't have to put a second mortgage on my house, live in a pile of paperwork, take three planes, and nearly lose my sanity waiting for him to get home again, that I will do all I can this time to go and get him and bring him home to me. Someday, and I don't know when, he will know that though sometimes it is hard for him to understand why he is here, the reason is because we belong together.

Ramblings of a Pregnant Woman

Hello All
I usually wait to post until I feel so inspired, most days I just feel inspired (though denied) to take a nap. But, I felt that though this wasn't going to be a literary masterpiece that I do have a few thoughts I would like to save for my future self. In typical Heather fashion I will number them, though they are not in any type of order.
1. We named our son. Thanks for the help, phew that was a hard one. We ended up heading the other direction and decided to name him Forrest. That was my great grandpa's name and we like it. We are stressing out many people who seem to find this name completely disgraceful, but Forrest it will remain.
2. I have it in mind to start keeping a little notebook of the funny things my kids say, but they may be grown before I get it done, so the couple from lately would be: Isaac wants an apple critter (fritter) and Jamen would like a flazed (glazed doughnut). Cute and can you tell the awful food this pregnant woman has been craving? Isaac would also like to have dinner at a restronaut (restaurant).
3. I really believe the secret to peace is cutting back as much as possible on the crazy in a family's schedule, at least that works for us. The more we are home with no immediate plans the more peace there is in our life. This has also left lots of time for reading and we finished The Trumpet of the Swan and Knights of the Roundtable in the last few weeks. Did I mention that reading to my kids is the highlight of my existance?
4. Simplifying is just the best. I think that a houseful of bored kids makes for some resourceful and interesting people. We are going on a whole month of no TV until evening (and often not then). At first this was challenging, but now it just feels like those little brains are flexing and I love it!
Not much to say, like I said just rambling. Life is good. I am so blessed and I just felt like telling it to the world (or at least the few people that read my blog)

And He is a Good Kisser...

Little confession here. I often wish that Pottery Barn would grant me a $100,000 make over for my home...I know my designer friend is probably cringing because of my lack of originality, but I just love their look. Clean, organized, modern but not to modern. Anyway I don't actually own one thing from Pottery Barn (you would have to sell a kid to buy a soap dish), but I love the look all the same. I often take a picture and run it past my builder husband to have him copy it for me. He is awesome. He even trudged through building me bunk beds that in my opinion are even more beautiful than PB's. Yes the cost went up a little when we had to take him to the ER because gloved in winter and a drill press are a bad combo....but still fabulous. The one thing I have really wanted is, of course, in relation to books. I find it in every catalogue and dream of my kids books sitting in there. Now the dream has officially become reality and I wanted you to seen the finished product. Isn't he fabulous, and a good kisser too!

Name Our Son

OK...Granted we have already come up with a lot of names for boys, but you think we could settle on one more. I decided I would send it out there and maybe one of you can help...In case you don't know our names go in alphabetical order "GHIJKLM" so the name needs to be an "n" name. In answer to the two questions that we get often, no we are not having enough kids to fill all of the slots, this is it people. Second, we didn't get all cute and decide on this ourselves. When we were pregnant with out third our incredibly strange oldest son said "if his name started with an i we would be HIJKL" we pointed out as cute as that was we couldn't think of an i name. He responded (he was 4) "Abraham had a some named Isaac" so that is how this little cutesy tradiditon got started. Here are the names we are considering, but really aren't thrilled with any of them (though Nash has been the favored choice)
1. Nicholas
2. Noah
3. Nash
His middle name will be Rex and we would really like to find a 2 syllable name since we are all 2. It seems like we got tired and lazy at the end to name him "Nash" kind of like we were just to exhausted to finish it up....Names that are a no:
1. Nathan
2. Niles
3. Neal
I would love any ideas that you all may have. Ask around, make it your project would you? Give this poor son of mine a name!

A Familiar Sight

Lyndon and I went for the much anticipated ultra-sound on Friday. I couldn't believe the amount of interest in the big question, "what kind of baby will the Friant's be bringing home this time?" As she looked and looked our little one did the usual hide as long as possible, but knowing our situation she was happy to keep looking. It's always so special seeing the little alien face, seeing the kicking and feeling it too. I hate being pregnant, but I am completely aware of what a miracle it is. After a few minutes out came the very familiar sight! I might have a hard time seeing the other little parts, but this one has sort of become my specialty. Lyndon started laughing and at first my heart sank. I was so sure that we were having a little girl this time. About two second later I looked at the screen and I saw the most beautiful thing, my son. I could never wish him to be other than who he is, I adore him already. And as the minutes went on and I knew that this son of mine would be my last child I felt nothing but honored. I am the mom of six sons! Isn't that amazing! If I live up to my duty I get to help six little men become big men. As for not having a daughter, I always tease that I don't do hair or emotions, but the truth is I wasn't teasing. If a daughter would have joined our family I would have read all the books like "Raising a Daughter for Dummies", but I think a part of me always would have felt a ltitle lost. Boys make sense to me. "Brother annoyed me, so I hit him", yeah I get that. I love rocks and bugs and stories of adventure. I adore the color blue and have always hated the color pink. I love everything about being the mother of boys. I grew up with one sister and it was always a dream of mine to have a brother. Then when that dream passed I dreamed of having a son. This is a perfect, beautiful example of how the Lord not only heard my prayer, but magnified more than I could ever dream! So the Frian't are having yet another beautiful boy, I almost feel sorry for the millions of condolences we have gotten, talk about the wrong sentiment! But, the good news is, I get it. I get that I am absolutely the most blessed woman there is and I have six messy, noisy, gorgeous boys to prove it.

And then it was OK...

Yesterday I had one of those moments that got me thinking (their really rare so they stick with me). Life is hard. Challenges are a daily part of everything we do. Sometimes I feel like giving up or at the very least wish I could hire Alice from the Brady Bunch to help out. So here's my thought... Life is full of difficulties, we are always climbing the mountain and it seems like we hardly ever get to the top and get to appreciate the view. I thought of a few times I got the "view" and then it was OK....
#1 Yesterday I got to hear my baby's heartbeat for the first time. The last few months have been an experiment in torture for me. I have never been more sick, never been more miserable in my life. I had begun to think of this little one as a life sucking creature. Yesterday I got to hear that little baby and then it was OK.
#2 In high school I dated this cutest boy for over a year. Then he left to serve a mission for two long years. I was 16 and incredibly dramatic, so though I knew he was doing the right thing I was so depressed. Then the depression went away and a I dated a little bit, one of whom I thought might be "the one". However, it never worked out because I just couldn't "Dear John" Lyndon, I even chased the mailman down once to get one back. Then he came home. It was awkward and weird but that first night he asked if he could kiss me and I said yes and I swear their were fireworks and then it was OK.
#3 We knew we were supposed to adopt and eagerly got started on the process. Then became what adoption is really all about...waiting. We waited and waited and worried and worried. I became so insane I needed meds (my adoption friends continually suggested different ones for me to take), but never did. It was the most heart wrenching thing I have ever done and I never felt more alone. But then many, many months later on Christmas Eve this angel boy sat on my lap with a bow on his head and then it was OK.
There are lots more. But, I think I am beginning to see that life is a series of bumps, bruises, long runs (though I kind of like those) and climbs with an occasional glimpse of the view and then it will be OK. Hopefully someday I will stand next to my Savior all broken up but having tried my hardest and He will give me a hug and then it will be OK...

A Part of Me Is There

Over the last six years I have fallen in love with a country and a people that have been in my heart, on my mind and in my prayers every day since I was first introduced. Some of you are getting your first introduction to Haiti and maybe even pulled out a globe to see where in the world this tiny place is. I have been trying to write a blog post about how I feel about all of this, but as you know my blogs tend to be silly or off hand and there is nothing either silly or off hand about the disaster in Haiti. If I let myself think to much about it I feel as if I will begin to cry and never stop. A few of my concerns

• The people I know (and the ones I don't) who have waited months and often years, kids rooms painted, hearts broken over and over again wondering when their kids will be home. Now they pace around wondering if their kids are even alive and if so what will all of this do to the already nightmare process of getting them home.
  
• My hero Bishop Harry Mardy and his family who I am told is pretty much living in an LDS parking lot with, among others, all of the kids from the Foyer orphanage in Petionville that was destroyed. They are desperate for food, water and medical care. While there he is grieving the loss of his mother and sister who were both killed in the quake.
• My Haitian Roots kids who I love so dearly. Of the 100+ kids we know that 10 are OK, the rest is unknown.
• My sons other mother. I always thought of her and I as partners and pictured taking our son to meet her again someday. Will I ever know if she is still here?
  

Because several people have asked me I will let you know of two ways that I know of to donate. On the right hand side of my page there is a place you can donate money to Haitian Roots or Hope for Little Angels of Haiti. If you feel inclined go there to donate and just write "to be used for the disaster" and all of your money will be used for that purpose. The Haitian people are suffering and this is not your typical group of wimps here. They are tougher than most of us ever thought of being. I love them. I worry about them. I am praying for them and I love knowing that you are too. Don't stop. Don't forget them.

Yes the whole world revolves around me...

I had made a decision not to blog until I felt better, didn't want to whine and complain in print. However, my new thought is that if I blog about it I won't feel a need to whine incessantly to any one who will listen. I am going to see if it works and if it stops me from being all about me to the next handful of people that are nice enough to ask how I am doing, then you won't want to read this for awhile. So how am I you ask (not that you asked, but for the sake of argument let's pretend the whole world really does revolve around me)? You know how I love lists so let me give you top 10 reasons why I am not OK...
#10 having been ill for nearly two months now there is nothing left in any grocery store anywhere that hasn't made me me sick and so therefore I can't eat it again...
#9 my son said that he loved me because I used to take care of him, but now that dad does it he likes my hair
#8 reading makes me dizzy, that's right my favorite past time can't happen
#7 running keeps me sane, unless you count running to the bathroom then you can imagine just how sane I am
#6 the track marks and bruises up my arms from the hospital make me look like a druggie
#5 though I appreciate the sometimes 5 pounds I lose in a day, bulimia apparently isn't going to work for me
#4 an allergic reaction to an IV drug at the hospital turned me into an embarrasing raving lunatic threatining to rip my IV out, my poor sister stood in the hallway waiting for the nurse because she was to afraid to be with me
#3 I haven't gotten dressed in a month and my adorable husband probably is starting to think the women at work look kind of cute (note my husband works construction and for the most part he has NEVER seen a girl at work that he would have noticed wasn't a guy)
#2 I have little to no participation in my life...it happens without me and I am to sick to even notice most of the time.
#1 you never know how much your family needs you until you are right here and can't do anything for them. I see all of them suffering because of me, me, me and it breaks my heart into a million pieces...
So big thanks to my sweet friends and family who call and ask how I am doing and then endure my tearful whining. Big thanks to those who have brought food (or offered to do so), cough drops, herbal remedies and groceries. Huge thanks to those who have offered to take my kids if I need them to. Big thanks to my darling sister who endured one of the most difficult nights I can remember by my side. Did I mention I know how blessed I am and I really love this little creature? I do and I know this to shall pass, I just wish it would pass a little quicker...