So, the church has its own YouTube channel, making them officially more hip than I am. Anyway, my friend Reba posted this video on her blog of Elder Uchtdorf's talk about happiness. This is a great talk, and the video is awesome. Enjoy!
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Story time
Jeremy is a really good sport.
(By the way, this was taken before Clara had her cast removed on the 16th. The radiologist confirmed it was just a bad sprain, and after a few days with a splint Clara was back to her old self again.)
(By the way, this was taken before Clara had her cast removed on the 16th. The radiologist confirmed it was just a bad sprain, and after a few days with a splint Clara was back to her old self again.)
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Sam-Day
Today is Sam's fifth birthday. For those who may not know, Sam is our first child, and he passed away just hours after his birth due to complications from an umbilical cord accident. He was a truly beautiful baby, and to get a sense of what he looked like you can look at either Clara or Jonathan. They are all triplets born years apart!
This birthday feels like something of a milestone, which has made today and the weeks leading up to it both difficult and peaceful. I have not quite felt like myself lately, especially for the last week, and for all of you who are familiar with grief--which is just about everyone!--you have probably experienced periods after an acute loss, even years later, where you recognize yourself going through various stages of mourning all over again. That's how I've felt this week. But when I woke up this morning I somehow felt happy, and now that I'm thinking about this and writing about it I have to believe that Sam's spirit is nearby and is having a comforting effect on our home and family.
Many of you knew me and Jeremy when Sam was born. We are still comforted and touched by remembering the outpouring of love and prayers and kind words you offered during those first difficult days, weeks, and months. I am especially grateful for my family and Jeremy's family who have always been wonderfully sensitive and have taken care to think of Sam and to visit his grave in Provo. I also do not think I would have made it through those initial months without the selfless support of my wonderful friend Stephanie. Steph and I had been good friends for several years, and when Sam was born we worked together at UVSC. Stephanie was pregnant with her own first baby boy, and despite the anxiety my experience caused her about her own baby's health, she selflessly talked with, listened to, and cried with me. I really don't think I could've done it without you, Steph.
As the years have past and our family has grown, the meaning of Sam's Day has continued to evolve. This year we're looking at it as a celebration of our family and a recognition of our blessings, and we're celebrating with a special family dinner complete with a ridiculous cake I'm making for Jeremy. (Those of you who know me well probably know that I almost never make dessert, so the fact that I am making--and I kid you not--an eight-layer yellow cake with this off-the-hook frosting that has actual chocolate, actual cream, and actual butter in it will seem really surprising. That is just how much I love my husband.) Other than our special dinner it's a pretty low-key day. Jeremy is working, our kids are sleeping, and I am left to myself to bake cake layers and to reflect upon my happy life. There were times early on that all I wanted was to wake up after five years had passed so that I could be spared all of the hurt and heartache that greeted me each day. Now that I've woken up this morning, I can safely say that never would I trade even one of those days. To paraphrase what someone once said under very different but very difficult circumstances, I am grateful even for Sam's death, because it enabled me to have the absolute knowledge that God lives, because I became acquainted with him in my extremity.
So here's to Sam, who lived the life he was supposed to live. I know he continues to touch our lives, and I also know of at least one family whose lives are different because of Sam: Two years ago we learned that Sam's pulmonary valve was given to a 4-month-old boy in Massachussetts in 2005. Sometimes I like to think about that little boy and his healthy heart. And when I do, I always smile.
This birthday feels like something of a milestone, which has made today and the weeks leading up to it both difficult and peaceful. I have not quite felt like myself lately, especially for the last week, and for all of you who are familiar with grief--which is just about everyone!--you have probably experienced periods after an acute loss, even years later, where you recognize yourself going through various stages of mourning all over again. That's how I've felt this week. But when I woke up this morning I somehow felt happy, and now that I'm thinking about this and writing about it I have to believe that Sam's spirit is nearby and is having a comforting effect on our home and family.
Many of you knew me and Jeremy when Sam was born. We are still comforted and touched by remembering the outpouring of love and prayers and kind words you offered during those first difficult days, weeks, and months. I am especially grateful for my family and Jeremy's family who have always been wonderfully sensitive and have taken care to think of Sam and to visit his grave in Provo. I also do not think I would have made it through those initial months without the selfless support of my wonderful friend Stephanie. Steph and I had been good friends for several years, and when Sam was born we worked together at UVSC. Stephanie was pregnant with her own first baby boy, and despite the anxiety my experience caused her about her own baby's health, she selflessly talked with, listened to, and cried with me. I really don't think I could've done it without you, Steph.
As the years have past and our family has grown, the meaning of Sam's Day has continued to evolve. This year we're looking at it as a celebration of our family and a recognition of our blessings, and we're celebrating with a special family dinner complete with a ridiculous cake I'm making for Jeremy. (Those of you who know me well probably know that I almost never make dessert, so the fact that I am making--and I kid you not--an eight-layer yellow cake with this off-the-hook frosting that has actual chocolate, actual cream, and actual butter in it will seem really surprising. That is just how much I love my husband.) Other than our special dinner it's a pretty low-key day. Jeremy is working, our kids are sleeping, and I am left to myself to bake cake layers and to reflect upon my happy life. There were times early on that all I wanted was to wake up after five years had passed so that I could be spared all of the hurt and heartache that greeted me each day. Now that I've woken up this morning, I can safely say that never would I trade even one of those days. To paraphrase what someone once said under very different but very difficult circumstances, I am grateful even for Sam's death, because it enabled me to have the absolute knowledge that God lives, because I became acquainted with him in my extremity.
So here's to Sam, who lived the life he was supposed to live. I know he continues to touch our lives, and I also know of at least one family whose lives are different because of Sam: Two years ago we learned that Sam's pulmonary valve was given to a 4-month-old boy in Massachussetts in 2005. Sometimes I like to think about that little boy and his healthy heart. And when I do, I always smile.
Friday, February 20, 2009
Lucky Number Sleven
On Monday, Jeremy and I celebrated the end of our seventh year of wedded bliss. We marked this auspicious occasion by going out to lunch--sans children--at McKenzie River Pizza Company. This is the first time we've been out without either of our kids since Jonathan was born (sad, perhaps, but true) and we had a rockin' good time. What's not to love about eating one's weight in delicious gourmet pizza? (Answer: nothing.)
My mom wondered whether we'd have anything to talk about other than Clara and Jonathan, and we totally did. We spent most of lunch reflecting on the highlights and lowlights of our marriage. Classic! I wanted to dredge up all of the lowlights, but we stuck mostly to highlights. Ha! We only talked about the lowlights that we can laugh about now, like the time we cried ourselves to sleep on our first sweltering night in our first weird, weird apartment in Syracuse, or the time I randomly got head lice and Jeremy spent two hours a day combing my hair out for two full weeks while I sobbed.
Some of the highlights included several of our wonderful vacations and road trips, all of the great places we've had the privilege to live, and of course our charming children. (They are always like one hundred times more charming when they're asleep or not with us.)
Once our lunch was over, we decided to add another lowlight to our list by snapping this self-portrait outside of the restaurant. Woof:
I wanted Jeremy to try for another picture, but then the camera battery died. Oh well. Happy 7-Y, Jeremy!
My mom wondered whether we'd have anything to talk about other than Clara and Jonathan, and we totally did. We spent most of lunch reflecting on the highlights and lowlights of our marriage. Classic! I wanted to dredge up all of the lowlights, but we stuck mostly to highlights. Ha! We only talked about the lowlights that we can laugh about now, like the time we cried ourselves to sleep on our first sweltering night in our first weird, weird apartment in Syracuse, or the time I randomly got head lice and Jeremy spent two hours a day combing my hair out for two full weeks while I sobbed.
Some of the highlights included several of our wonderful vacations and road trips, all of the great places we've had the privilege to live, and of course our charming children. (They are always like one hundred times more charming when they're asleep or not with us.)
Once our lunch was over, we decided to add another lowlight to our list by snapping this self-portrait outside of the restaurant. Woof:
I wanted Jeremy to try for another picture, but then the camera battery died. Oh well. Happy 7-Y, Jeremy!
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Castaway
I ended up taking Clara to Urgent Care again last night. After she woke up from her nap she basically did nothing but whimper for two hours. We bathed her, fed her dinner, and then I just couldn't take it anymore! She has not been the same girl for the past two days, and I decided it wasn't worth it to make her go through 12 more hours of pain to wait until this morning to take her in.
We saw the same RNP at the urgent care, and she reviewed Clara's x-rays again, this time focusing on her wrist (which by this point was swollen). She couldn't see any discernable break, but she said that in a young child the bones are not completely formed and it's hard to tell for sure. She is going to have the radiologist at the hospital look at the x-rays on Monday, and she decided to put Clara's wrist in a splint. As she was getting ready to splint her arm, she decided that with a two-year-old it might be better to completely immobilize her arm with a cast. So now Clara has a green cast that she'll have on at least until Monday (when we get the radiology report), and probably until the following Monday. The RNP thinks it's a bad sprain, but she didn't rule out a fracture.
Anyway, I have no regrets about my two-and-a-half hours at urgent care with Clara last night, even though I am pretty sure I could literally see the germs crawling around. She is much, much happier today, and in much less pain. Here's hoping that in a week's time she'll be back to her old self again!
Friday, February 13, 2009
Clara's hammock
Oh, Clara...
Yesterday at a play group I went to with my cousin, Clara somehow fell and hurt her arm. At first I thought she had nursemaid's elbow (again), but after three hours at the Urgent Care (including x-rays and two screaming children (I didn't scream; I just wept silently)) they couldn't find anything wrong with her elbow. They sent us home with this miniature sling (which Clara calls a hammock) and told us to come back in two days if she still wasn't using her arm. Well, it's now been more than one day and she won't do anything with her arm. I'm inclined now to think the pain is in her wrist, so perhaps we'll be back at Urgent Care tomorrow for more x-rays and more fun!
Yesterday at a play group I went to with my cousin, Clara somehow fell and hurt her arm. At first I thought she had nursemaid's elbow (again), but after three hours at the Urgent Care (including x-rays and two screaming children (I didn't scream; I just wept silently)) they couldn't find anything wrong with her elbow. They sent us home with this miniature sling (which Clara calls a hammock) and told us to come back in two days if she still wasn't using her arm. Well, it's now been more than one day and she won't do anything with her arm. I'm inclined now to think the pain is in her wrist, so perhaps we'll be back at Urgent Care tomorrow for more x-rays and more fun!
Saturday, February 07, 2009
I'm five months old!
Who do I look most like? Please take a look at the pictures, then vote in the poll to the right. I think I know who will win...
:::Me:::
:::My sister:::
:::My dada:::
:::My momma:::
:::Caillou:::
:::Me:::
:::My sister:::
:::My dada:::
:::My momma:::
:::Caillou:::
Monday, February 02, 2009
Then and now
I am getting ready to retire this particular outfit, so I thought I'd provide an illustration of how much Jonathan has grown in the past (almost!) five months.
(Have any other moms noticed that Carter's brand clothes are huge for their size range? This is allegedly a 0-3 month outfit, and in most other brands Jonathan is wearing 6-9 or 9-12 month sizes. I mean, he is many things, but "little for his age" is not one of them...)
(Have any other moms noticed that Carter's brand clothes are huge for their size range? This is allegedly a 0-3 month outfit, and in most other brands Jonathan is wearing 6-9 or 9-12 month sizes. I mean, he is many things, but "little for his age" is not one of them...)
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