End of an Era/Packing up the Old Quilt

I originally wrote this in my journal a month or so ago.  I've decided to share it here, too.  It's a little personal but it's family stuff.  And I feel like sharing it.  And I can if I want.

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Yesterday I got dressed and put a bra on.  A NORMAL BRA.  Not a nursing bra, not a maternity bra.  I haven't done that since 2012.  And the reason that matters is that yesterday was the first day of the rest of my life.  If there was ever a time to burn bras, it would be my maternity and nursing bras, which represent the years of my life spent literally and directly nourishing and building little bodies with my own.  And now, with the weaning (which was led by Calvin, and not me) of Calvin, my babiest of babies, I'm saying goodbye to that entire chapter of my life.

pregnant with #1, Zion's National Park

This comes literally weeks away from 10 since of the first time I started "trying to conceive", and so a decade was spent trying, failing, succeeding, growing, birthing, nursing, trying, failing, succeeding, and so on.   From here on out my body is just my body and is no longer an extension of another human being.  Not a feeding station, not a growing chamber.  Just me.

A few weeks from becoming 1st time parents!

 I feel as though I am lovingly folding a beloved quilt to be packed away into a cedar chest, where it can be cherished but no longer used.  I feel myself running my fingers along the seams of the quilt, revisiting the ups and downs of the season it represents.  The pain, the depression, the elation and impossibly perfectly simple joys, the disappointment, fear, and illness.  This patch of the quilt tells of the time I literally went into shock upon finding a surprise "positive" when I was already struggling more than I had ever before, while Spencer held me close and cried tears of joy for another bundle of love coming our way.


Layla on board.  You can't tell by my face but by this time the shock had turned to excitement and gratitude, which would only grow as we got to know the little person who surprised us so.

This one over here is when I was having a procedure done and it went wrong and in the pain and confusion I feared that my ability to choose to have more pregnancies would be gone.  I was surprised at the heartache and longing that possibility brought.

Cadence (3) and Campbell (16 months) greet their brand new sister Layla with a huge and warm welcome

Here's the one where we witnessed our first ultrasound.  Together, hand in hand, we watched our very own precious baby kick and twirl and squirm.  I couldn't help but laugh from the happiness it brought.  And here, along this seam, are the other ultrasounds, each one filling us with anticipation and promise as we eagerly awaited another addition.

Ultrasound of Cadence

checking in to the hospital with Campbell on the way

See these patterns, the meals that were brought, the help with the house and kids.  Here I can see all the months spent on the couch or over the toilet.  Trying to eat.  Trying to nourish.

One of the frequent times when the only place I could be was on the floor.  Don't ask me to explain.  Pregnancy wasn't good to me.  Pregnancy #5 pictured here.

Don't judge.  I'm at the finish line.

The guilt.  Those dirty, scrappy corners are from the Guilt.  Didn't eat enough spinach.  Too much fish in the wrong trimester.  Surviving off of crackers and Ginger Ale.  Supplementing with formula.  Letting them keep a pacifier because you couldn't afford to risk the sleep.  Arriving late to the pediatrician appointment.  Missing the signs of a food allergy for over a year.  Letting them cry it out.  Not letting them cry it out.  Spending months on the couch while they beg you to play with them but you're too pregnant and sick to move.  Losing your temper with a 2 year old. Neglecting the kids to get the house clean.  Letting the house fall to pieces because you are playing ring around the rosies over and over again...   

4 days before Ezra joined the circus.

Oh, here's a bright square.  This one reminds me of when Ezra was born.  The girls had been tucked into bed while my contractions were just beginning to take off.  They woke up in the morning to a brand new baby brother waiting in mom and dad's room.  What a golden moment.

Layla (3), Campbell (nearly 5), and Cadence (2 days from 7) meet Ezra, who surprised them at breakfast

I lift this part of the quilt to my cheek and momentarily breath in the memories of each of my newborns.  Looking into their eyes as they look into mine.  holding them close to my heart and feeling them relax and calm.  I just can hardly find the words for this part of the quilt.

First Moments with Campbell

And then there were 3.  Welcome Cadence!

These crooked stitches are from Nursing.  Uncomfortable at best; the worst stabbing, searing shooting pain of my entire life at worst.  The beginning, when I'd cry along with the baby as it took all the courage I could muster to work toward that latch, because I knew what pain was coming as soon as the baby's mouth touched the nipple.  Baby was crying and hungry and tongue was curling and back was arching and I was crying and holding the baby's head with my hand giving myself a pep-talk to shove the open mouth onto the raw and bleeding nipple and let that baby start suckling while I tried to distract myself with a show.  How I look back on those memories now.  Not with a desire to relive, but with a fondness that only hindsight can bring.  Maybe fondness isn't the word.  But the quilt just wouldn't be the same quilt without those stitches.

First time holding Ezra in my arms.

I reach out and touch the little patch that reminds me of the night I nursed newborn Calvin.  I could see that his eye was swollen and looked so uncomfortable, and yet I could sense how content and happy he was.  He even laughed ever so slightly as he drifted off to sleep.  I told myself that if he could be content in spite of his eye, I could certainly overcome the anxiety and pain that came with nursing him.  And so I suffered through those nights and days of nursing with a greater resolve to be content, taking my cue from my brand new fella.

Another moment that comes flooding back is when 10 month old Ezra was hospitalized for a seizure and I spent the 5 days/nights there with him while pregnant and very sick.  It felt like the longest 5 days in the history of the world.  I look back now and they are only a small part of the whole blanket.

Spencer always took the time to have "skin to skin" time with each baby.  Here he snuggles Layla while he preps for finals and is probably on a business call.

Here, all around the outside edge, is the binding.  I slip my fingers around it and remember the father of my children.  He was the anchor, the support, the one that kept it all together when I could barely move or when I was overwhelmed.  Etched into my mind and onto my quilt is the memory of him with each baby against his chest.  There is truly nothing he wouldn't do for those babies and for our family.  He is the binding of this amazing quilt and it is a strong and sure edge.


So proud of and in love with Campbell!                                                                      Kisses for Ezra from handsome Daddy

Unspeakable joy/Calvin's welcoming commitee

The ties of the quilt.  As my hands pass the ties of the quilt I think of all the prayers.  Please! Let us have a family! Please! Let the babies be healthy!  Please! Let this birth go well.  Let me have some strength.  Let us keep this pregnancy.  Let us be safe.  Please, let us be wise.  Please, help the baby to gain weight, to get well, to sleep, to wake up, to grow and do and be as he or she should.  Thank you! Thank you for more babies.  Thank you for survival.  Thank you for friends, family, or even hotel staff who reached out to help.  Thank you for miracles.  And thank you for family.  And babies.  And breastfeeding.  And formula.

how many prayers might it take to adequately express gratitude for this?

Each part of the quilt I'm carefully folding up has it's place in my memory, both the ups and downs have made me the woman I am today and made my husband the man he is.  And each baby that has joined our family has made us the family we are.  And so the quilt must be folded gently and with love.


Last pregnancy!!!

Of course, my chapter of motherhood is still in the thick of things and how grateful I am for that.  But as I allow myself to look upon the bittersweetness of last-baby-dom, I can't just put the quilt away without taking a moment to run my hands along it with a long and heavy sigh and appreciate it.

An entire decade.  A heavy, well-loved quilt.  Time to tuck it away and look forward to the future.

The future looks so bright!

SUMMER 2014 PHOTO BOMB

I don't mean "photo bomb" like it's new and hilarious usage.  I mean like, I'm about to drop a bobomb of photos of our amazing summer last year in a desperate attempt to keep a record of our family's memories.


May began with Disneyworld, covered elsewhere.  Then came the seizure, covered elsewhere.  Here's a little from the rest of the month:

Campbell and Layla had been taking a dance class from Rachel Watson, a 12-yrold girl who ran a studio out of her parents' home.  With her thigh-high cast, one might expect Layla to sit out of dance class.  As seen below, she did not consider that a reason to not participate.  Their dance recitals always bring tears to my eyes but I imagine that 30 years from now this one will still be one of my most favorite Layla moments.

Campbell receives recognition from Miss Rachel for constant obedience and willingness to try new things.

Ezra showing off his teeth, 10 months old, watching his sisters dance.

Spencer brought the girls to visit Ezra in the hospital one night.  He's pretty lucky to have all these loving sisters!

 JUNE:

Ezra in June.  He's just kind of the cutest.

June was another one of those "Never-a-dull-moment" kind of months filled with adventure and, might I remind you, pregnancy.  I had told Cadence after what felt like decades of arguing about our "no sleep-overs" rule, that ONE time for ONE birthday she could host a sleepover party.  Turning 8 seemed as good a time as any so she chose her 8th birthday for such an honor.  Since we were going to be gone during the entire month of July (her actual birthday), we planned for June.  Also in June, Spencer headed up a week-long survival trip for his scouts on the Buffalo River.  In an act of pure desperation we called Mammaw to come help us during that week because, again, I don't do pregnant well.  Mammaw came to save the day and that week we not only hosted a great big movie-night slumber-party birthday bash for Cadence, we also orchestrated and executed our first annual Service Club Carnival and Outdoor Movie Night to benefit the Children's Shelter.  Thank goodness April was there to get us through the week!1`

The party guests watching "The Lego Movie"

Slumber Party Shenanigans!

Self-made cake!

The girls making the Carnival Flag Pennant Banner

Working hard!

The carnival was held at the Fleming's backyard and Tara had a fever all day while we prepped the yard in the boiling heat.  Pioneer woman!  The "Happy Kids Service Club" is comprised of the Clive, Fleming, and Bredensteiner kids and we plan little service projects throughout the year and decided during the summer each year to do one big project.  Last year it was just a Movie night so we stepped it up in 2014 and made the carnival.  The project was a "birthday drive" so the entrance fee was a donation of birthday supplies for the shelter-- candles, wrapping paper, balloons, presents, etc.

some of the "cake rock" set up.  My invention :)  The Cake Rock is like a dance party and a cake walk put together.  Dance+Cake=good.

An exceptional girl showing off her exceptional facepaint.

Here's one of the games the Bredensteiner's set up and manned.

The Photo Booth that Clives were in charge of.

Caprice and Jaclyn offered their service and sold popcorn and drinks. 

Here's a table full of donations.  We filled Dan's extended cab full of donations plus a box of cash.  We were thrilled with how much we were able to bring to the Shelter!  What generous carnival guests we had!

Also in June-- Campbell's first concert!  Daddy daughter date to the free Walmart Shareholders Concert to see Luke Bryant.

This dark blur is an attempt to capture the wild-animal dance--partier that came out of Campbell spontaneously when she felt the music.  She was FEELIN IT.  Little rock star :)

 After all the planning and hosting and carnivalling, we packed up the van and drove to Utah!  We found ourselves there with 2 days left of June.  Summers in Utah are so beautiful and Grandma and Grandpa always have a surprise!

This would be our last visit to Grandma Great (my Grandma Harward).  We missed having her in Grandma Orton's basement where we could sneak down to visit her anytime.  Although visiting her in her new place required gentleness and waiting of turns and a general  quit-touching-all-her-stuff, the kids really treasure her and so they loved spending time with her.  We didn't know we wouldn't see her again in this life.

grandpa and Ezra have a special bond.

Campbell enjoys movie night on grandpa's projector screen :)

 And that leads us into the crazy month of July.  And I mean CRAZY.  Hold on to your hats, folks.

You know what? I'll do july on it's own.  Because who's going to stop me!?

Baby's first...

I'm writing this blog post 11 months later, so we're kind of going to go back in time today.  Let's wind it back to May 22, 2014, boys....

Layla's "Bee School" graduation (the preschool coop we'd done with friends) at the Wanamakers.  Ezra had been teething and running just a touch febrile so I left him in his carseat during the festivities so that he would be less likely to spread any possible germs to the others.  He sat contentedly watching the preschoolers run around and sing their songs and have their snacks.  I was trying to get some food into my persnickety pregnant belly and I watched him curiously.  He seemed fixated on something but I couldn't tell what.  My spider-senses were tingling but I just didn't know what that was about.  I ate and chatted some more until I couldn't handle the tingling any more.  I asked my other mom-friends, "Does something seem weird about Ezra?"  Nobody seemed to notice anything so the conversation drifted away quickly but I kept observing.  He seemed to be fixated with his eyes up and to his left, and he almost seemed to be tremoring.  Was I imagining that?  I picked him up and held him.  He didn't change his gaze.  His hand was definitely shaking and tightened into a fist.  I called his name, touched his face.  No response.  My friends were now convinced that something was wrong, and I was too.  Kelcy ran to get her thermometer and his fever read 101 or something like that-- feverish but not crazy high.  My friends told me "don't worry, febrile seizures can be perfectly normal, but you should take him to see the pediatrician".

 I left Layla there with all the friends and I put my baby into his carseat and into the car.  I could hardly stand putting him down and then not even being able to see his face.  As I drove I could hear his breathing sounded strange.  I talked to him, told him to relax and not worry, mommy's still here.  I called Spencer and told him that I was rushing to the pediatrician and that this is not too unusual, but to keep his phone close until everything is resolved.  I got to the pediatrician and put my boy back into my arms.  I held him close although he didn't seem to melt into me the way he should.  Still no looking.  Stifled breathing.  Tremors, tightened fist.  I got to the front desk and tried not to break into tears as I blurted out, "I think my baby is having a seizure!"  The woman there told me I was very lucky because it was lunch break so nobody was with any patients and Dr. Hill would be able to see him immediately.

We rushed back to the exam room and Dr Hill (whom we love) came it quickly but calmly.  She evaluated him and assured me it was a seizure and that it's really not unusual.  She tested his blood oxygen level, which was way below the limit of normal.  His temperature had gone up, too.  In an instant he had a little, teeny, tiny oxygen mask on, which he took no notice of, and was given ibuprofen.  We waited and watched and discussed possible causes, and of course the fever was the most likely cause.  But as we watched, he continued.  That little fist stayed taut, the tremors and labored breathing continued, and the gaze never broke.  The problem was that febrile seizures are supposed to stop on their own, but, by the best of my calculations, we were about 30 minutes in and still going strong.  The assistants were sent to scour the clinic for anti-seizure meds, which they had once had on hand.  Nothing was found and so the paramedics were called.

And that is how Baby had his first ambulance ride.  I was so sick and so weak, but they carefully lifted us both in and took my bag and things for me.  They let me hold him in my arms the whole way and the paramedics were all calm and reassuring.  They had me hold his oxygen mask on while they gave him a shot with the medicine that is for seizures.  It didn't take long at all for his fist to relax, his eyes to close, and his breathing to return to a normal rhythm.  By the time we got to the hospital he was in a deep sleep but clearly not seizing anymore. 

Into the ER we went.  They put me into a wheelchair and let me continue to hold him.  In the ER he was hooked up to monitors and blood was drawn.  My phone battery was about to die, of course.  But I was able to keep Spencer updated as things happened.  It was a looong afternoon of tests and waiting for results and feeling completely depleted and weak and nauseous.  He slept deeply for most of it, although they kept waking him for tests and it was heart-breaking every time.   And then I'd have to try to get him to calm down in my depleted state in a brightly lit, sterile room with almost no comfortable surfaces, with tubes and needles in our way.  He was taken away for an MRI, which I couldn't attend bc of my pregnancy.  I waited helplessly outside the door, wondering if he knew I wasn't there.

baby's first MRI

After all results came back normal the attending physician said that the next step was to send him to the Children's Hospital, but that she really didn't want to do that since she knew how hard it would be on our family and that she didn't think it was truly necessary.  So instead they checked us in right where we were, so up we went to the pediatrics floor. 

baby's first EKG

The next 5 days were constant vitals-checks and IVs and frustrations.  We were blessed with mostly really wonderful nurses.  Even the ones that made me mad were still good and caring, they were just completely unconcerned that waking him up every 2 hours at night meant that I had to spend the next hour and a half getting him back to sleep, which was killing me and was surely not helping him to improve.  I feel pretty certain that, had they let him sleep it off, he would have gotten over the fever in half the time.  He didn't maintain a healthy temperature until Saturday night.  The results showed urinary, ear, and sinus infections ("although babies don't actually have sinuses", we were told.  Um, get your story straight, folks!)

happy to be playing but still attached to the IV stand...

  So Sunday he was perfectly fine and energetic and really sick and tired of being in the same small room with tubes in his arm tying him down.  We were so anxious to be sent home but they kept us one extra day just to milk us for all we had be safe.

Monday afternoon, Memorial Day, Ezra was finally discharged.  The nurse that I had loved the most and who had really made me feel heard and validated in my concerns and frustrations was there with me to help me get packed up and get on my way.  Spencer was on the lake with the girls and our friends, our annual Memorial Day tradition.  It was nice to have a quiet home to come back to and get settled.  It was really just nice to be home.  SO nice.

Discharged and it feels so good!

It's been almost a year and although he's had several fevers since, he has not had another seizure so far.  As you might imagine, he gets watched like a hawk if he even looks a little warm.  We are told by the doctors to medicate him as soon as a fever shows, even if it's a low-grade.  It's the breathing and lack of response to how much oxygen he was getting that makes me really nervous.  What if he does that in his crib? I can't bare the think about it, and I can't bare to put him in his crib if he's feverish.

You never see just how blessed and cared for and capable you are until something like this happens.  I'm so grateful that it was more of a pain in the rear and less of a life-altering event.  I'm so grateful for the glance into the world of hospitals and emergencies-- a little taste of empathy and understanding for families who's lives are changed during stays such as that.  And of course every person in town stepped up to love and serve our family.  Some men from our church that we didn't even know stopped by to check on us and brought my van from the Pediatrician's to the hospital for us.  Dinners and childcare and mowing the lawn.  Spencer's Aunt Dodie, who was in town visiting her own grandson came and spent a few hours at the hospital holding and soothing Ezra, so that I could rest and then go out to dinner for Tara's birthday surprise that I had planned.  We were so well-cared for! 

And of course, I'm grateful that the Lord blessed me physically to be able to do what I was supposed to do, and emotionally and spiritually to feel the peace I needed.  And to have an amazing husband who held it all together on the home front so that I could put my whole everything into worrying about supporting Ezra.

And that that's over with.  Sheesh.

MOMMY DAUGHTER DATES/Spring Break 2015

Spring Break.  Staycation.  Words that have oft sent chills down my spine.  The kind of chills that send me to the store for ten pounds of chocolate, a 12 pack of caffeinated beverages, play-doh and bubbles, and craft supplies en masse.  I was so afraid.  Kids, 5 of them, constantly needing me--exhausted and ragged me.  the kitchen, in constant use: breakfast, snack, snack, treat, lunch, snack, snack, tea party, treat, dinner, dessert, snack...  The constant bickering of kids in close quarters... Will we survive?  I am never sure.

Well, Spring Break kicked off with perfect 74 degree days.  The kids happily played outside all day and we saw all kinds of neighbors.  We had play dates, treats, surprise visits from dad... all the good stuff!  The days ended with a slightly messy (rather than totally trashed) house and a physically exhausted but emotionally sound family.  Success!  Add a little Flaming Lips into that mix and I felt like maybe I'd died and gone to Heaven!  I finally knew what the other moms meant when they were actually excited for school to be out.  We were having fun!

Each day (Tue/Wed/Thur) as soon as Daddy got home from work I packed up one daughter and took her on a special date of her choosing--one activity and dinner.  Almost every weekend Spencer takes the girls out on a collective Daddy Daughter Date, and he goes at least once a month to have lunch with the girls at school (one on one).  But I have maybe never taken them out to do something special individually.  This was a trial run, let's see what happens...

 Cadence was first, and she chose (with my prompting) Tennis and Tacos.  Neither of us have played much tennis in our years but since we have access to the tennis courts at the Walton Family Fitness Center, we could just go try hitting a ball back and forth.  And try we did :)  just before we left the house it started dumping rain and when we got to the courts there weren't any indoor courts available.  Cadence is no pansy so we decided to brave the weather and go outside.  It turned into the perfect evening for playing--the sun popped back out and the court dried up and outside was exactly where a person should have been.  We had so much fun serving the ball back and forth and chasing it around.  We laughed with eachother when the ball went in the opposite direction than we expected, we joked about how "good" we were, and she trailed the ball around with her racquet next to her foot saying, "heel, ball, heel" and then tried to train it to go straight to me.  I kept getting flashes of a familiar feeling, like I was out having fun with Mignon.  We wouldn't have had to be good at tennis to have a fantastic time.  This was a new thing, and made me really excited for the ages and stages ahead--something I haven't really been thrilled for as yet.

At one point, Cadence just walked over to my side of the court and wrapped her arms around me: "I'm having so much fun".   We had the chance to really enjoy eachother, and what a great moment it was.

We then went to a nearby Mexican place (Las Fajitas).  She was excited by how fancy it was (your typical Mexican place) and picked a taco plate to eat.  We shared a Pina Fanta and she was amazed at how delicious it was!  Then I introduced her to fried ice cream and we giggled together as we made a mess eating it.  She sparkled in all that undivided attention and we really had a good time together.  I talked to her about boys a little but she asked me after a few minutes if we could stop, she didn't really like that topic.  Haha, let's see how long that lasts.

The next night was Cambpell's turn.  Campbell chose to go swimming.  There was a tornado watch in effect and the rain was pouring down, so I wasn't sure they'd keep the pools (though indoor) open.  But they did and so in we went!  Campbell and I pretended we were mermaids--Ariel (me) and Marisa (Campbell).  We could choose whatever color of tail we wanted and change it whenever we wanted.  When I asked her what color of mermaid hair she had (I was planning on pink with sparkles) she said, "Can't you see? It's bwown.  It doesn't change."  I didn't want to plant any ideas about what she should or shouldn't think of her own hair so I dropped it.  Besides, I do already have mermaid hair :)  .  We got pool noodles and rode them like our dolphins.  We established our secret handshake (double-handed high five followed by the baymax version of a double fist bump). We went to the deep end (which she called the "dark side") and went "Mamping" (mermaid camping).  We had to go "charge our tails" first (I was confused but followed her lead, this meant to pretend to plug your tail into a cord and let it charge up like a cell phone) and then we went mamping.

 After our dolphin races and mampout were ended by the pool closing for the night, we got legs and went to dinner.  She wanted a ham-melt from Arby's so I told her I knew a restaurant that made even better ham-melts and we went to Panera.  Our mad dash across the tiny parking lot to the door of Panera resulted in two totally soaking went legged-mermaids.  Good thing we like water, being mermaids and all.  We shared a cup of chili and each got a sandwich.  She wasn't sure she'd like the ham-melt because it actually looked more like a sandwich but it was good!  We sat next to eachother rather than across so that we could snuggle and keep warm after getting drenched.  She hugged me and told me she wanted to do this all the time.  She said she didn't remember getting to play with me and that it was so fun.  She smiled so big I think my heart almost burst.  The sparkle in her eye was blinding.

The next day was a harder day.  It was too cold to play outside for most of the day.  I was burned out and run a little ragged.  The kids were more grumpy, too.  I finally busted out the Dr. Pepper.  I actually tried to teach them how to make my famous Georgia Peach Pie.  I am not that darling mother who loves to have her children in the kitchen with her.  I hate it.  I hate it like I hate using the same rags on the table that are used on the floor.  A lot.  I just can't handle the power struggles and the licking and nose picking and distraction from the recipe and the knives and eggs and licking and salmonella and hair and... it's just too much for this simpleton of a cook.  And so I decided that a pie collaboration was just what this chilly spring break day needed.  Just guess how that ended up...

But that night it was Little Miss Layla's turn.  Layla also chose swimming.  Layla has truly become the middle child and it took Spencer and I a few months to catch on.  She was the baby in our eyes and then BAM! two babies in a row and she's smack-dab in the middle all of a sudden.  She is often expected to be as mature as her older sisters and her needs often get second fiddle to the babies (not often, always).  So this was a really important night for her.  She was so excited!  I expected her to choose a make-believe theme like Campbell had but instead the night was filled with, "Mom, watch this!!" and, "Did you see that!"  And on and on it went.  All I had to do was clap and shout hooray and let her see how wonderful she was in my eyes and that sparkle I mentioned in her sisters, it came out in cats and dogs.  She did back flips and front flips and swam to the edge and back and back floats and belly flops and touched the bottom of the pool and more flips.  She made me nervous the whole time because she was constantly just barely keeping her face out of the water.  But it never seemed to bother her.  She kept saying, "This is so fun--I want my next one to be tomorrow!"  or "...on Tuesday!"  etc.

Layla chose to eat at Dickies (barbeque joint), where she already knew she wanted ribs.  Ribs!  What a big kid!  So I let her get a soda and ordered her some ribs and she informed me that I would sit next to her, not across.  So we sat together and gobbled our yummy barbeque.  She looked at me with the rib in her hands and sauce across her face, "Are ribs a kind of animal?"  "Oh, no, they are actually a kind of bone.  Look, even you have ribs, see?" and I poked her ribs.  A look of terror and shock spread across her face, "Do they take them from people?!"  She immediately felt better after I explained to her that they come from pigs.  She promptly scarfed down the remaining rib and loved every bite.  Then we ran to the nearby cupcake shop.  We were freezing and I joked, "It's sooo cold, I don't think we're going to make it!"  Ever the cheerleader, she responded, "Oh, yes we are, I KNOW we'll make it, I know we can!!"  We made it, guys. 

At the cupcake shop as we sat to eat our sweets, she told me that she thought the teen-aged clerk was very pretty.  I told her that she should tell her because that would surely make her feel very happy. We approached her for some extra frosting and then Layla asked me to deliver her message, which I did.  And the girl loved it, of course.  Then we sat back down and Layla whispered "I think everybody here feels special tonight, mom."  I could tell she was feeling all-around good.  We raced back to the car and had to head home.  She was beaming and her "bucket" was filled.  She hugged me and told me that she wanted to be just like her.  I hugged her and told her I wanted to be just like her.  "But, you don't want a funny tummy, right?"  Well, no.  And then I got her some tums and put her to bed.

 Today is Friday, the last day of Spring Break.  I'm tired.  So tired.  I'm behind of everything--housework, church stuff, etc etc.  But I've finally gotten a little ahead of things with my relationships with my kids and filling their buckets.  I think learning to share attention and learning to meet your own needs when you must are great for kids, but just as important is the lesson that regardless of how many other people there are to love, they matter.  They matter individually.  They are enough.  They are treasured and cherished.  And no matter how true you may know it is as their parent, they will only know it if you give them time.  What a treasure this week has been.   I can't wait to do this again sometime.  And what amazing kids we've been blessed with.

* I took more adorable photos and each kid took a few selfies with me, but for some dumb reason the pictures won't show up.  sad face :(