2015 Catch up

Every year I tell myself that I will set aside time to write in my personal journal and to update the blog; every year I fail. Miserably.

But then I thought, shows do little recaps all the time. That is my answer. Soooo here goes.

Here's what you missed so far:

January - Found a house we liked on the east bench in Provo. Put in an offer, after a few back and forths, we were under contract!
February - JL began work at EMC for their Isilon division. We finalized preparations for the move. We also found out we were expecting.
March - We hauled our stuff and moved a whopping two miles away. We began unpacking.
April - We had our first ultrasound and were glad to hear that there would be minimal issues with the pregnancy.
May - The boys graduated from preschool and we prepped for an exciting summer.
June and July - SUMMERTIME!
August - School was back upon us. I got put on partial bed rest right in time for things to get crazy.
September - JL switched over to the new DSSD division at EMC.
October - We had our fourth child and first daughter. (More on that later)

And there you have it. Caught up.

Namaste 2014

Isn't it funny how quickly a year goes by? Maybe this is just me, but when we hit three kids, our time really started flying by, with these blips where everything slowed down to a sludge like crawl only to speed up again three seconds later.

I believe in full disclosure, so honestly, when 2014 started, my little family was just starting an uphill battle of epic proportions. My sweet husband was diagnosed with fatty liver disease, Henry was two months into his Sensory Processing Disorder diagnosis and our life in many ways was at the mercy of his Occupational and Speech Therapists, Walter and Asher were getting neglected in the chaos, and I was drowning under three kids, JL's liver, my thyroid issues, and the recent revelation from my doctors that at the age of 26 my husband and I might not be able to have any more children.

As we desperately tried to juggle the many plates, everything and everyone suffered.

Until finally, one February morning, in the wake of an epic fight with my husband the previous evening, I just let all of the plates drop to the floor. 

Time and time again, situation after situation, I felt deeply humbled. I became overwhelmed with the feeling that Heavenly Father was breaking my imperfect self down inch by inch so that I could rebuild myself from the rubble. One little brick at a time. Baby steps. Bill Murray baby steps. 

I felt truly blessed. Through every trial and tribulation that came. I really just felt overcome with peace. There are tangible blessings that occur when you hand your life over to the Lord and ask for guidance in even the most mundane situations. By December, it was apparent that 2014 in its messy chaos, was the best year of my life. 

Does that mean that suddenly in 2015 I am rising from the ashes like a phoenix, with glorious splendor? HAH! Guys, no. No. Just today, Henry had a spectacular fit in the mother's room during church because he didn't want to be Sunbeam and wanted to stay in the nursery, and while he was flailing his arms and legs and I was desperately trying to find all of the strength in my body to restrict his motions, he managed to rip a HUGE hole in the knee of my tights. So I went to the bathroom, threw those things away, and went another two hours in church with boots, no socks to protect my feet, praying that no one noticed I haven't shaved above my knee in....oh...seven weeks. 

So in honor of the many New Year's Resolutions I have heard, here is mine: Be a little more gentle and a lot more kind with myself and those around me. Just one baby step at a time. And as the effervescent (you read that right) Tom Hiddleston said, "You keep putting one foot in front of the other, and then one day you look back and you've climbed a mountain."

Here's looking at you, kiddo

Five years ago, after many hours of labor, JL and I happily left the hospital with our oldest child. We were young idiots who thought we could handle things and Walter, with his 80 year-old man face quickly put all of our confidence to rest. Walter struggled with nursing, a consequence from the C-Pap machine he was hooked up to immediately after birth. He was sensitive to everything - dairy, soy, corn, meat, certain nuts - and JL and I spent hours reading labels on everything that came into the house to avoid the onset of vomit and hives. He began talking at 5 months and never stopped. By a year, Walter was sharing his rather strong opinions with us in full sentences. Right as we waved goodbye to all of his food issues (four years later), we discovered that he has allergy induced asthma. He is tall and skinny, to the point that finding clothes that fit him often leads to a headache.

And I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

Without a doubt, Walter has made me a better person. He is hilarious, stubborn to a fault, inquisitive, bright, caring, and unquestionably old-fashioned. He calls JL and I Father and Mother, respectively, believes that men should hold open doors for women, and insists that his hair be combed flat on his head ("like Poppa's"). Walter is OCD and quick tempered, but he has a wonderful sense of empathy and an ever developing moral code that guides him.

Oh, and his Do-A-Dot painting skills are second to none!

I am infinitely grateful to be his mother. So here's to my Goose, his father's Scrub, our forever Walter Theodore. May 5 be even better than all of the years that came before!

the story of how Ash lost his hearing and got it back again

Foreword: The roller coaster ride of Henry's SPD diagnosis truly enabled me to take a "roll with the punches", que sera sera attitude about this entire event.

Seven weeks ago, Asher broke a high fever. 103.9, in fact, making him the uncontested record holder of highest fever in our home. We gave him some meds, put him back to bed, and when he woke up in the morning he was completely fine. Except that he was not really responding to sounds. For about 24 hours there we hemmed and hawed and thought about what we wanted to do and then right when we decided to take him in, he started to seem a little better. So we watched. If there is one piece of advice I could give to a new parent, it is this: Watch and wait. Things usually resolve themselves.

This situation did not resolve. We took Asher to our trusty pediatrician who recommended scheduling a hearing exam at Utah Valley Hospital's Speech and Balance Clinic. When we got to the clinic a wonderful audiologist (Jared) ran a couple tests, told us what we already suspected (that Ash was having some trouble hearing in his left ear) and we scheduled some more tests for today to find out the extent of the loss.

And after a week of solid prayers that everything would unfold the way Heavenly Father saw fit, we woke up this morning to a new version of our child. One that appeared to be hearing and responding to us even from across the room. When we went in for our appointment, Ash flew through the testing, hearing (HEARING!) every whispered peek-a-boo and soft beep beep beep that came through the speakers. He even remembered to grab his train that he hid under the chair during the initial testing to bring home with us.

The audiologists and I were elated! Asher was also elated, ya know, because of the reunion with his sweet train.

And tonight I sang lullabies to my baby boy without his hand on my throat, his fingers on my lips, or his little self humming to fill the void, and I tell you... I was touching a little bit of heaven. 

Heaven people. Heaven.

Why I love opinionated people

aka "How I listened to Mindy Kaling's audiobook in two days"
aka "Mindy Kaling and I share a disturbing number of opinions"

In a different world, another time, Mindy Kaling and I could have been best friends. Kindred spirits that meet, bond, and after a lifetime of overt criticism, become the two crazy old ladies that do what that want and everyone is secretly jealous of. I know this now because I finally got my hands on a copy of her book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns).

I have spent my entire life in college towns. This is both illuminating and exhaustingly frustrating. I love that the general populace are learning addicts, much like myself, proudly wearing their nerd quirks for the world to see. I dislike that I spend most of my life waiting for books on hold because I am surrounded by hordes of unabashed bibliophiles, much like myself. Books that would not be popular in other towns have over 300 people in line at my local library. Growing up, I solved these dilemmas by going to Barnes and Noble and buying the book. (Need to add: I also enjoyed this easy fix, because three out of four times, I ran into my super cool older brother camped out in a chair reading something ridiculously nerdy, like books on calculus or programming. One time, he was half hidden in the transit between the Children's section and the Teen section, so well hidden that I only noticed his distinct hair from my second story perch because I was looking for it. He could have been a creepy pedophile if he was not so thoroughly engrossed in his book. And I loved him even more for it. Second note: this was a long sidebar, I am not sorry. If you know my brother, I am certain you find him majestic. If you don't know my brother and are missing that sort of je ne sais quoi in your life, I suggest you move to Texas. He will force you to understand things you could care less about, which everyone needs a little of in their life. His wife is hands down the friendliest woman I have ever met. She is a lover, not a fighter. And while his two kids can at times be overwhelming - because they are children and that is their nature - they are whippet smart and high energy tornadoes that will one day change the world with their awesomeness. Third note: Now I am sorry. I could talk for hours about my brother. Fourth note: I love you, Steve. Stay awesome.) As I filled my bookshelf and began stacking books, I would dream of the day that I lived in a home of my own where I would have more than a bedroom to put books in. Well folks, I live in a 1950s ranch style home with built ins out the whazoo and I am out of space for my books. 

Which is why it took me three years to read/listen to this bit of hilarity.

Opinionated people are hands down my favorite people in the world. They know what they like, they know what they don't, and they will tell you exactly what they expect from any given situation without reserve. I love someone with some good ole' tenacity. At my best, I am a classic introvert. I hold a general distaste for large gatherings of any kind and frequently tell my husband, "But.....people. I hate people." like that is some kind of justifiable reason to not attend whatever function he is shoving me out  of the door to. This is my largest flaw.  But every now and then, my husband will walk through the door with a twinkle in his eye and say, "I met someone today that I think you are going to like."

I live for these moments. I live for these people.

Mindy Kaling is an opinionated little ball of awesome.

If you have not read this book, you should do so immediately. Especially if you agree with any of the following statements:

- The Jews are formidable. They gave us bagels, the superiority complex, and produce the most bull-headed human beings on the planet. Make friends with as many Jewish people as you can immediately. Your life will forever be changed for the better. 

- Chest hair is sexy. Men should have hairy chests. This is NOT a debate.

- Women are beautiful and alluring no matter their dress size. Again, this is NOT a debate.

- Pierce Brosnan is a sexy, sexy, sexy man. 

-"People who love to eat are always the best people." - Julia Child*

Read it people. You've had three years of opportunities. Read the book. You're welcome.

*If you do not agree with myself and Julia Child, we are no longer friends.

Ruler of the Home

I believe in the power of a name.

If I had known ahead of time that Henry was going to be diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder, I would have chosen a name that was derived from something docile. (I just looked this up, my child would totally have rocked Masueto or Nao, who cares if he is whiter than white.) Since I did not know this, I chose Henry. I willingly fought to name my son Henry. For months. I spent months picking away at my husband's defenses until he finally agreed, albeit conditionally, that we could name our second son Henry. "If he looks like a Henry when he comes out."

We thought he did.

Henry's SPD frequently remind me of Henry VIII.  Yes.  My toddler reminds me of the man that divorced the British nation from Catholicism, then his wife, and then became so disagreeable he killed the woman that he spent seven years of his life attempting to bed and created a new church for because someone said that she might be sleeping around and with her brother. I am constantly amazed by Henry VIII. I am also constantly amazed by my little tyrannical Henry.

Today Henry:
- pushed his brother off a chair
- tried to befriend an ant and then stomped him to oblivion when he was bitten
- bit my thigh and then curled into fetal position and sobbed with remorse
- spent the entire day naked and adamantly refusing all clothing except his new black crocs
- tipped over three kitchen chairs
- knocked two closet doors off their runners
- stole all of his brothers food and then slapped him with a plate when he tried to take it back
- tackled his 16 month little brother to the floor
- yelled at Tom Hiddleston's portrayal of Captain Hook in the Pirate Fairy, calling him "a big, mean, meany!", at the top of his extremely healthy lungs
- threw a bean bag chair across the room

To be fair, Henry also rubbed my back gently and gave me constant hugs in between his reigns of terror. And like Henry of Tudor times, he is incredibly athletic, intelligent, charming, and strong. When he chooses to be.

I am constantly amazed that women still choose to have children. I mean, I chose to have Henry after having Walter, a clearly gifted child that started talking at 5 months and hasn't stopped since. ("Can we eat hamburgers again today? I am feeling carnivore-ish. Like a dinosaur.") Don't get me wrong, I adore my boys. They are the light of my light, even on days when I think I might die alone in prison from losing my inner battle to kill one of them. All women are secret sadists.

And today, I can't help but think that I really should have named this kid Nao.

Well folks....I made it

That's correct. Since I last posted, my weight loss total has skyrocketed to a solid 95 lbs! And it gives me great pleasure to say that while I have not hit my doctor's target weight loss, I have come under the mark of my own goal of 135 lbs to weigh in at 134.6 lbs!

I WILL TAKE IT!!!!!

When I started this lovely journey, I never thought that I would even make it past the 50 lbs marker, so to say that I am elated is an understatement. I truly have a greater respect for the strength of my body and the wonderful gift that it is in my life.

I did not accomplish this on my own. Not only did I have the amazing support of JL to kick me out the door five days a week and eat healthier versions of his favorite food with minimal complaining, but my great physician jump started this entire process at a time when I was ready to just give up and let the Hashimoto's take over. But the number one thing that helped me is a perfect tie between Yoga and the wonderful trainer at my gym, Benjamin Leto. It feels a bit odd admitting that JL was not the guy to help me the most (since he most definitely is 99.9% of the time), but this time even he will agree that Benjamin takes the cake. He helped me work around my thyroid problems, strengthened my bad knee to prevent future injuries and really helped me work with MY body. And yoga came in and complimented his efforts by really helping me feel the capacity for strength that my body and mind had within them. While I am not done, my body fat percentage is at 23% and my doctor would really like me more between 18-20% for the sake of my thyroid, I know that the hardest part is behind me and now I can focus on toning and building muscle to replace what little fat I have left to lose. 

And while I promise not to continue to post about weight loss, etc., I will make no such promise about boring people to death with Yoga related subjects. Yoga is awesome. Everyone should make it a part of their daily life. Unless you have a physical restriction and cannot practice it - like my father who gets dizzy when he does sun salutations. Bless him. 

Also, on an odd note, I find that I am having to relearn how to move in the world around me. I have actually been using some of Henry's Occupational Therapy techniques (a completely different story folks) for spatial awareness. This is not a complaint by any means, and I actually appreciate the lesson. I find that I have been better able to connect with Henry on this particular issue in his life and that my patience with his frustration has grown exponentially. 

(If you made it through this post, Congratulations! Highest of fives! I am running on little to no sleep and it took a lot of effort to put together functional sentences, so your small sacrifice of time is truly appreciated!)