My little Superman...

The past couple of nights I have been seemingly more aware than usual of just how big my little Superman is getting. If you could see this guy in action {Crew is recently turned 3} you would know that he is a very intense, funny, energetic- boardering on hyper, lovable boy. He gets his mind made up very easily and there is great challenge is changing his thinking. He wakes up bounding out of bed 9 days out of 10, and still needs to be practically wrestled into a good night's sleep most of the time too.
He has very delayed verbal skills...but "talks" almost non-stop.
He loves to do things himself...but constantly wants to keep up and do things like the "big kids" here at our house.
He eats mostly yogurt, granola, nuts, cereal, toast and fruit...but would be just as happy living on chocolate chips and brown sugar lumps if I allowed it.
He knows all his colors and shapes and the alphabet.
He also knows how to turn on a remote, satellite tv, laptop computers, Angry Birds on cellphones; he can operate the Wii, DSi Nintendo games and the dvd player.
But yet he still isn't fully potty-trained.

He does things his way and in his time. Almost all the time.
It sure makes for some interesting struggles and conversations and interactions among all parties living in our home.
But we love him like crazy and he knows it too.
So in light of all of that and more, as I tucked him in bed the last couple of nights and lay down next to him to whisper and sing and calm him as he fell asleep, I couldn't help but let my heart swell over the fact that he is mine right now. I know it will feel like he has grown up too soon and he'll be finding new love someday down the road.
I pray for his future wife and soul-mate and her family who is lucky to be raising her and feeling her love right now too.
But as he wrapped his little Superman jammie arm around my neck and pulled me closer to him so he could twist his fingers in my hair, it just made me want to soak it in and savor it even more.
I am humbled and feel lucky to be his first love. I am amazed that I get to be the one to feel his arms wrapped around my neck and know that he feels so secure in my arms too. I feel honored that God has allowed me to be one of the people in his life to have to understand his speech, guide and direct his energy and try to help him maneuver his way through the early years of life, growing and learning.
I'll be honest- I go to bed worn out more often than not because of this little guy in my life. But in the moments of quiet and calm and when he races toward me with arms open wide to hug and be hugged in the morning, my heart overflows with a love like no other. I am happy to be the mom to such an amazing little superhero. I will always love the way he has captured. I hope I never forget how it feels to be hugged to sleep by this little superman.

Five days a week this is what it looks like at our house...

Wyndham gets her jacket on and Chip stops home to pick her up to take her to therapy. Teague gets a thrill out of seeing Daddy for a minute, demands a kiss, waves bye-bye and then keeps watch out the window until they are both completely out of sight.

Sometimes it seems like the "scenes" in my life will never change. I've been changing Wyndham's diapers for over 10 years now; that will likely never, ever change. She's had ongoing therapy {speech, physical therapy and occupational therapy, plus now, aqua therapy} ever since being discharged from the hospital in August of 2001. I don't foresee a change in that anytime soon either.

But the smiles she musters- even when she knows she is going to "do her work" and the persistence she has about always trying- even if she doesn't feel like it, those are things I don't think will ever change either. The fact that I get to be the one that she presses her hands against and the shoulders she leans on as she gets ready day after day today felt like a gift all over again. To know that she depends on me and looks to me and expects me to do the things she can't do for herself filled me not with a feeling of burden, or something to dread or feel pitiful about, but rather it feels like maybe this is the very thing I was created for.

Maybe it was Oprah's new show "Lifeclass" that triggered something in me for my heart to see with new eyes- even though I haven't even watched a single show. I've wondered about a "higher calling"- a greater purpose in my routine days for several years now. Today I was overcome with the thought that maybe in searching for something more, it's actually in accepting the way it is that therein lies my 'freedom'- my calling. In being less of me, I am more for someone else. In a small way it is what I think of when I imagine the hands of Mother Teresa as she held the wounded, the broken and the least of these. It was simply her presence that lifted others and made them "something". It was her willingness to sacrifice all that she became "great".

In that same- but obviously I'll never compete with the acts of such a woman- I am realizing that maybe, just maybe my being I am fulfilling more than I could ever know.

My being present.

My being love.

My being patient.

My being content.

My being baking cupcakes.

My being laundry lady.

My being disciplinary.

My being sorry.

My being content rather than seeking more.

My being open to routine, rather than feeling I need to create "splendor".

My being sensitive enough and compassionate enough and forgiving enough and hopeful enough and always willing to do or help or hold or clean or be leaned on. One more time.

Because that creates a safe place, a comfort zone, a reality for the ones who need me that there will always be enough of me for them and there will always be more for me to give when they hurt or want or need advice or feel like they are somehow missing their calling.

Maybe my calling is to be assurance to them. Or reassurance if need be.

Maybe a higher calling isn't as high as some of us are searching for. Maybe it is in being made low enough for others to grasp onto that we find that's exactly where we're made to be.

Today I feel more than I have ever felt in my life before, that my calling isn't something for me to attain, but my calling is to be a servant to others. That they might become more of who they were created to be.

When I pause and think about what an enormous task that is, I realize it is 'higher' than anything I've imagined I could be. Like the rock for someone else to stand on. Or the place for someone to fall and not get hurt. It's overwhleming to think that maybe my life's purpose is simply to help guide and shape the ones God has placed in my life so that they might become the fulfillment of themselves. It seems simple. But wow, let me tell you, the implications are enormous. I bow my head and lift the eyes of my heart and say to God, "Lord grant me what I need to do the task. To be the task. To meet the needs and dreams the way you would have me meet them."

Graciously, I hope and pray.

Happiness is warm laundry on a chilly day...

I took pictures of something I have done lots and lots of times through the years. It's especially wonderful on days like the kind we had today- that start out in the 40's when you wake up and reach only into the low 50's for highs. That's chilly. It feels even cooler because we were spoiled with warmer temperatures than normal this past week. It definitely feels like fall outside now.

So my little laundry fun is well-received on days like today. As soon as a load of clothes is ready to come out of the dryer, I fill the basket and whichever kid(s) happens to be nearby they are treated to some warm laundry smothering. Today Teague was the lucky recipient. He got a blanket and Wyndham's dress wrapped around him and tossed on his head- which he promptly pulled off and laughed about.

I love to do this- and my kids all love it too- when they are just going to bed or have been settled in for a few minutes already. I love it when it's a load of bath towels too- all fluffy and fresh and piping hot. I grab the hot items out of the dryer and sometimes totally surprise them with a pile on their heads as they lay in their beds. Or sometimes I call them to come help me out for a quick minute. And when they show up I put Daddy's lounge pants and t-shirt on their heads. They laugh and scream and pull it off. And they always want more. It can get out of hand in a big hurry when one kid puts underwear on another one's head and the fun factor for that kid drops off suddenly. But the laughter and warmth and fun that comes from a dryer full of warm laundry is one I know they'll remember when they've grown and one I hope they don't outgrow too soon.

It's the little things.

I keep telling myself that.

I know it's not the things I do so right.

But the things I want them to feel good about. It's the things like laughter and seeing that even though you have to do stuff like laundry in life, you still have the choice to make it fun once in awhile. Or more than once in awhile. It's about knowing that seasons change and even with the 'cold' there is opportunity to feel warmth and create a bit of happiness along the way.

I can't help but think I'll always be glad that I let my kids play in the warm laundry and even encouraged it on cold days. Maybe this is why I love the smell of Tide so much...

Don't let this picture fool you...

This is Teague helping me sweep the floor. The fact is he's the one that makes most of the mess around here these days! I can hardly keep up with the Cheerios, dried peas and carrots and other food and toys he leaves behind throughout the day. Yesterday it was the toilet paper streaming across the hallway, living room and entry way as though we had some mini party going on and needed streamers for the occasion. Sometimes it feels like fun for me. Other times I feel like I am fighting a losing battle trying to keep up.
In the end, I pause ad breathe and take it in. Because I have learned life's lesson that this season of his life and mine will be a distant memory before long. So I snap a few pictures and try to take it in. And remind myself that a clean house isn't what I really want in life. I want happy, well-rounded kids that know there's no place like home!

If you believe in karma, you can't believe in her...

One year ago at this time Chip and I were dancing with Wyndham in our living room, then getting her into her jammies and tucking her as cozy as we possibly could into her bed. It was the eve of her double-foot surgery. We knew we were in for some major life changes, and comfort was not going to be one of them. For her, or us. We knew life was about to get as challenging as it's been for us in a long while.

We just didn't have a clue it was going to drag on. For a whole year. Or more.

Trust me.

We've lived through lots and lots of medical situations and injuries that require extensive care and treatment. We've been through the wringer with grief and trauma and all that it takes out of you as you process it and work your way through it. We're no strangers to doctors telling us what to expect- and having it turn out more on the "worst case scenario" end of the spectrum. I guess I could just tell you we're not rookies when it comes to recovery after injuries.

But this time it was different.

There were no medical helicopters or ambulances rushing one of our loved ones off with the outcome {literally} up in the air. We were feeling cautious, yet hopeful as Wyndham faced a few months of immobility and healing. We had several consulations of various doctors- all who agreed and supported the decision to go ahead with the realignment surgery and tendon lengthening. They used words like, "Wyndham is a good candiate" and "you should expect her to do very well" and "this is something that's been done before yielding great results, so we expect the same or better for you too". As hesitant and unsure as I was going into these consults, I walked away from them each time certain that Chip and I were making the best decision for Wyndham to have the surgery done. We felt educated and informed. We had asked lots of questions. We had exhausted other less invasive measures for a few years and finally felt like we were at the place where there really was only one best option.

So we went ahead and had her surgery done.

I dreaded it and prayed about it for over a year. I asked God for a miracle. I fully expected that at some point along the way my prayers would be heard. I figured that even right up to the very last set of x-rays taken that the doctors would come back to our room and tell us that they couldn't believe it or explain it but there would be no surgery needed. I fully believed that God wanted to use Wyndham as a real-life miracle in an orthopedic office setting. It seemed an unusual place- but I knew God could do miracles anywhere. That's the way this story went. In my head and in my heart. I wanted nothing more than for Wyndham to avoid the pain and suffering that she would endure. I wanted nothing more than for her to be able to keep going to school and be "just like all the other kids". I wanted her to keep growing and playing and laughing and signing and riding bike like she had been doing so well for the past couple of years. We certainly didn't need her laid-up in double casts. It would never be a "good time" for that. But certainly not just 5 weeks after her new baby brother had been born. That's supposed to be the time for the family to bond and nuture one another and adjust to sleepless nights and just take it all in. Because a new baby brings enough change of its own. We're no rookies in that department either.

So I knew, one year ago, as I danced with Wyndham and tucked her in and then swaddled Teague and nursed him to sleep, that the morning would either bring miracle or hurt. For all of us. Unfortunately, God chose not to heal Wyndham's feet on their own, but instead Chip gave her a nice warm bath, she had to skip breakfast, and then we hugged her and sent her off- with a smile on her face- to have surgery on both of her feet/legs.

Chip called me with an update at one point and said she had all the nurses smiling as she held out her finger for the pulse-ox and she was just being the best patient ever. I imagined that she would be. This was the first time she was hospitalized and not sick. She was as healthy and strong and happy as she'd ever been. Which made it all the harder for me.

I'm sure it was still the pregnancy hormones in my body, but I spent most of that morning in tears. I couldn't shake the feeling that it was the worst thing that I could do as a mom- sign the papers and authorize my little girl to have bone taken from her pelvis and placed in both feet, as well as have her legs cut lengthwise on the back of her calves for her tendons to be lengthened. It was as if I were signing us up for suffering. Her for the physical pain and limitations it would put on her; Chip and me for the added demands and emotional/mental suffering we would feel as we helped nurse for her and give her the care needed to get her back on her feet. I cried because I knew that everyone of us in our family was going to hurt in some way. And I had basically said, "Go ahead... you have my okay."

In my defense, I really feel that even though we asked a hundred questions, and even though the therapists supported us and the physiatrist supported us and recommended her surgeon and even though Wyndham loved her surgeon and we all seemed so confident and ready to get this done, I still feel (looking back a year post surgery) like we were not given the full scope of what the worst-case scenario might be. We were told she would be in double casts up to her knees for 8 weeks. Then she would be in some orthodics- which would be adjusted as she progressed with her rehabilitation. There was never, ever mention that she would be needing a wheelchair one year later. Or more.

That never crossed my mind. We looked at it as suffering and life-style changes that would last through the winter months, but then by spring we would be ready to breathe in the newness of springtime and feel energized and see Wyndham flourish. We never dreamed that things would take a toll on her the way they did. She hardly moved out of her wheelchair for the first 6 months at all. We never dreamed her lack of good progress would take such a toll on our marriage and family dynamics. I guess I thought Chip and I would find a rhythm and things would sort of move along differently. But we are adaptable people. We've lived through traumas and seizures and sort of expected that in taking it one day at a time we would manage the way we always do.

With humor getting us through most of it, and with the light at the end of the tunnel guiding our way. Only this time, there were too many days where none of us laughed. The pain was managable for Wyndham. But beyond that I couldn't help but grow more and more resentful as the progress seemed too slow and the recovery more demanding than any of us had imagined it would be.

I shut myself off from the world. In part because we had a new baby and 4 other kids just doesn't make it convenient to go out and do anything anywhere. But I think I shut myself out and grew a little bit more resentful everyday because truth be told, in my heart and mind we had already paid the price of suffering. And even more than Chip and me, Wyndham had paid more than her fair share of suffering. With each day that we had to lift her out of bed, and with each diaper change that we had to roll her to her side and try to bathe as she lay helplessly looking on or watched her siblings go off to school or play the games they wanted to, it just dug like a knife in my heart.

I've heard a lot about karma the past few years. You know, the idea that what a person puts out into the world is what comes back to them? Well, I believe it to a point. A really tiny one. And then I toss that notion out the window. Why else would there be so many things written about why bad things happen to good people? Or what about natural disasters- they take anyone in their wake. There is no mercy or stopping for people who have meant their quota of good. Sometimes bad just happens.

As I've watched Wyndham's life unfold over more than a decade now, I've only seen from her "good". I mean literally her life was turned upside-down and her chances to put anything out in the world were stripped before she had even sat up on her own. She never even had the chance to say a bad word. She has only shown determination and joy everytime she's had the world turn against her. And there have been a lot of times. Yet somehow, she overcomes. She's a fighter... most often with humor being her method of finding her way back too. She has always had a high pain tolerance and she always manages to be the one that makes me see the light is still there. No matter how dark it's gotten through the years.

In fact, one of the biggest reasons Chip and I have fought to keep our marriage together and have been able to find joy and happiness in life after loss and tragedy is because we have looked at Wyndham (and Brock, and all our other kids too) and we've said we want to keep it together and give them the best that we can in spite of how we feel.

But this year has been different.

I've had to fight with me (follow me here- I'm talking about the me inside of me) because I've blamed myself and felt regret and basically I have tried to figure out why the suffering we've lived with has had to follow us for as long as it has. I truly believe that God is able to change our circumstances. I fully trust Him with all that happens in our lives. So to feel pain for so long and not lose the happiness we worked so hard to get back through the years has just added to the hurt I've carried inside. It's been tough.

I've gone around in circles and tried to figure out what we could have done differently. That never helps anything for me anyway. It just makes me wish for a "do over" and we all know that can't happen. So I feel disappointed too. That even though we've tried our best, it just isn't turning out the way we imagine it to.

One year later.

I've been riding my bike for the past 4 months or so. I average 10 miles each day. I've ridden over 500 miles and in the time it takes to pedal that far I have had a lot of thinking and wrestling and praying along the way. I've pedaled some days out of frustration. I've pedaled some days out of fear. I've pedaled some days out of regret. I've pedaled some days just because I know Teagan never got to ride a big girl bike and Wyndham will never bike alone. So I've biked for them. I've pedaled some days because I can't believe how good I feel. I've sometimes wondered if I'd ever feel "good" again. {The answer is yes!} I've pedaled some days asking God to take all the pain away. I've pedaled on other days thanking Him for being merciful and keeping Chip and me together to bear the burdens and still see beauty rise from them. I've thanked God for giving me the ability to finally let go of needing answers or seeing outcomes that I've predetermined in my own heart and mind. I've pedaled and wondered why He's given me so much when I sometimes act like the biggest baby in my whole family.

One year ago I knew Wyndham was going to wake up and then be taken from her cozy home and the next thing she would find herself throbbing and her legs would be in bright orange casts and her hip would ache, but she would never know why. I am sorry that I let it happen to her. I am sorry one year later that I didn't know better than to say no. I am sorry that I couldn't change the fact that she would be in a wheelchair for a year and give up so much. I am sorry that I couldn't make it better for her. I am sorry I couldn't take away the hurt. I regret that she has suffered and been changed- even though she is content in her chair and doesn't seem to feel pain now. She isn't back to the way she was. She still needs maximum support and aid for so many daily activities.

Chip and I have found as much of a "normal" groove in the past year as we can with her needs and those of 5 other kids. We've only just begun to find our way back to one another. I am still on my way of letting go of why all this has had to happen to us. I am still holding on to the hope that even if God chooses to not reveal the answers to my questions, that I can still trust Him and know that He can work it all for good.

My faith isn't dependent on needing the answers. But it sure depends on knowing the One that has them all. That's the bottom line. It's not about karma. It's not about who has done what and how good or bad it's been. It's not about our energy being worse than another families, and it's certainly not about Wyndham deserving of something bad yet again. It's been a journey, that's for sure.

As you can see from the photos, she IS doing well. We're ALL doing well. In many regards we have nothing to complain about. We have more than we need or deserve. Would we change things if we could... yes. But we are taking things as they come. And Teague is happy to spend time in the chair during the times Wyndham is out of it.

I continue to bike as often as I can and with each passing mile I am feeling more confident that no matter what our family endures, we will come out shining. I can't say that I believe in karma. But I can tell you beyond a shadow of a doubt, I DO believe in overcoming. And if you believe in that, then you most definitely believe in Wyndham. And I believe Wyndham is here because God knows we all need to see what a miracle looks like everyday. I most assuredly believe in those.

...and then he was 3!

A week ago {Sept. 19th} Crew turned 3! It seems like we were just setting up his nursery and getting all the tiny clothes washed and put away in anticipation for his arrival. The next thing I know he is signing "3" and helping to select the cake flavor(s) and then holding the mixer and licking the beaters when the batter is done.

The years really do go by in the blink of an eye- even though some of the days and nights feel like they will never end! Even with having 7 kids, I will never understand the phenomenom behind that truth. We fell in love with Crew and his tiny newborn baby scent back in 2008. He was perfect and warm and squeeky at just the right times. It seems like he grew out of that newborn/baby phase way too quickly and his bright little mind was bent on keeping pace with all his older siblings. There's a 4 1/2 year gap between him and the next in line, Ava, so he had a lot of ground to make up!

I won't sugarcoat it and lie to the world here on my blog. He was a tough cookie- and still is at times- especially when it comes to his strong will and his independent nature. He has wanted to do things his way and on his own since about the 1 year mark. It's only been in the last few months that he is easier to "tame" and also his verbal skills are finally starting to develop and that makes things a bit better for all of us. Knowing that "Bobbie" means he wants to watch SpongeBob helps more than one would think!

I am just so grateful that he is smart, funny, healthy, happy (at least at various times throughout the days) and ready to learn and try new things all the time. Even if it means I've wanted to tear my hair out once in awhile. We're in this together and for the long-haul. Thankfully we have a relationship that was based in love from the very beginning. And love will see us all through!

So, to wrap this up I am going to share some random things I love about Crew being 3:

I love that he can make his own toast. It sort of gives me a small heart attack because I'm not sure what he's up to sometimes, but it makes him proud. Some of my older kids could take cooking lessons from him. Seriously.

I love that he wears Superman jammies and when he wakes up in the morning a lot of times he comes running right to me with his arms wide open ready to give and get a hug. It's a great way to start the day!

I love that he laughs at quirky things. He loves slapstick humor already.

I can't help but love that he gets mad when we tell him he can't drive a car yet. I think he gets that from Ava. She was so upset one day at age 4 that I wouldn't turn over my keys to her that she cried the whole way home from picking up the big kids from school. =)

I love that Crew loves "grown up food" over fast food or junk food, for the most part. He eats cereal/granola for several meals and snacks each week. He especially loves fresh fruit and berries on top. And he insists on pouring the milk on himself, so I give him a little cup of milk that enables him to do it without my help. He won't eat chicken fingers or cheeseburgers, but he does like corn dogs. And toast. See above. =)

I love that he stills gets way too tired and than "crashes" at nap time if/when he takes one. He has a point in the day where he needs a nap so badly, but he fights it just as hard. On the days that he takes one I often get to lay down on his bed and help him calm into sleepmode. I know he's there when he starts twisting his fingers in his hair on the top of his head. Sometimes he even makes little knots.

I love that, even though it makes me feel like I live on a prairie and I'm married to Charles Ingalls, Crew calls me "ma". It's most adorable when he says, "Thanks, Ma!" for whatever it is I happened to get for him at the time.

I love that he makes smiley faces on the driveway with chalk. He loves art time with paints, markers, crayons and LOVES playdough. But he's not so typical in that he hates to get any of it on his hands or clothes. How lucky does that make me?! =)

Okay. One more. I love that he doesn't hold back. Whether it's good or bad, he's in 100%. Which is why I sometimes want to tear my hair out, but I also know that the world holds something amazing for him and he's going to go get it with all of his heart. It might get broken a time or two... but whatever his dream is, he is not going to settle for anything less. There is a lesson in that for all of us. Even if I am a biased mom of a charming 3-year old boy.

Happy birthday to my Crewie as we sometimes call him. I am so glad to be the one to watch you grow, to teach you new things, to see you try and try and try some more, and to share the frosting from the beaters too. My life is forever better because of you! Love, Ma xoxo

Documenting daily life...

I've had a debate in my head for a few weeks now as to keep blogging or not. As you can see, the "not" won out for awhile. =) Sure, life is busy from day to day. Three of the six kids have started back to school; Wyndham is getting more therapy services- which already keep Chip busy running her back and forth to her sessions, and summer is starting to wind down so I am trying to get in as many 10-mile bike rides as I can. It seems like there is always something to cook or clean or pick up... our daily life is routine, but not at the same time.

Even as I wonder whether or not to make note of the "stuff" going on in our lives I realize that this is the kind of stuff that is too easily forgotten. The seasons of life sometimes change so gradually that I hardly notice they've changed until I look back and see that things were once very different.

So here I am again, taking note of the really insignificant, significant details of our life. As it is- right now. With Brock (in 7th grade), Bella (in 4th grade) and Ava (in 2nd grade) in school our home has gotten quieter from 7:45 am until 3:25 pm. When Wyndham is away at therapy sessions I suddenly find myself with just 2 kids at home. Something that is a rarity and makes me think back to when I had Teagan and Brock. Crew and Teague are the exact same ages apart as those two were and it brings back a flood of memories of how that season in my life was very different than it is now. I have found that these two little guys love to play together and are very good in their play kitchen. We save all sorts of products/packages from our real kitchen and they can pretend together for a long time and are very happy at the food they make. I love getting to spend some playtime with them as I know how important it is for kids to get more individual attention.

I am glad I have a spot to "preserve" some of these really mundane activities here on my blog, because I know the years go so quickly and it's too important to not take notice of the little moments. I see how each of my kids is growing and learning and discovering new things. Every day. And new discoveries- no matter how many people have discovered them before you- are always worth documenting. I hope you are finding freshness in your days right now. Breathe it in and savor it. Because tomorrow will be a new day and you might forget just how much you loved today.

What a difference a year makes!

Today our baby of the family turns one! We are so lucky to have such a happy, healthy, rambunctious one year old in our lives. Teague has always been loved by us, but in the past few months he has been able to give a lot of love right back. He's generally a content, but busy, little guy. He loves to play with all his siblings and he loves banging on the All-Clad pots in the kitchen too. He's been climbing up full flights of stairs for 3 months now and has been walking for nearly a month. He is curious and smart and has a love of puppies- even though we don't own a single pet. He has 6 teeth- and although he is great about eating a variety of vegetables most of those teeth like sweets just as much. =)

We have loved watching him become who he is already and look forward to watching him grow and change and become all God designed him to be from one til however old he gets!

Happy Birthday, to our dear Teague. Love and best wishes from your whole family!

They made it more fun!

My parents came for a visit from Minnesota last week and we sure appreciated all they did for us and to help us have a little more summer fun together. With a ratio of two adults to six kids considering the ages and special needs of three of them it's much more manageable to do activities with a couple more helpers. Grandma and Grandpa were more than helpers. They made life more enjoyable and eased some of the daily burdens that tend to weigh Chip and me down so much.

We spent an overnight at a cabin of our friends on Big Star Lake here in Michigan. It was perfect weather and there was a lot to do- including a boat, kayaks, tubing, building sand castles, relaxing and a family outing to the famous Jones' Ice Cream. My parents are so laid-back around our kids and just jump right in playing with them and doing other household projects like defrosting our upright freezer. Like I said... the fun stuff. =)

Chip and I marked our 16th wedding annivesary {on August 12th} and my mom made us a carrot cake- very similar to the one she made for us on our wedding day. I have to tell you this has probably been the hardest year for us on so many levels. More difficult even then the year we had our Old Depot incident. Some days Chip and I wonder how we manage to even stay together. For me it is proof that God exists. He is holding us together when we would rather split our problems in half or just let half the family have some breathing room to feel "normal" at times. I'm thankful for the miracle God keeps doing in our hearts and lives as He keeps us together. I hope we can look back years from now and see just how far we've come. But in the throws of the tough stuff it can be hard to see.

I'm still thankful for Chip sharing his life with me and we love each other to the core. It's just the fun isn't the same kind of fun we used to have and we're trying to live in the moments of wonderful that we do have each day and recognize that we are pretty lucky- evenso.

I think we know it inside.

My parents visit reminded me that we DO have so much to be grateful for. We DO have a lot of fun when we can make it happen and God DOES want to see our marriage through all seasons of our lives. I hope we're eating cake together- as a couple and as a family- for a long, long time.

Summer is still in full swing...

The summer is going to be gone before we know it. My kids are the kind of kids that like to sit inside in the air conditioning rather than hang out in the outdoors, barefoot and grubby, all day long. One way I do get them to stay outside a little while longer- despite our heat and humidity this summer especially- is by giving them popsicles and frozen treats. The other day Crew had his first orange cream push-up.

It was a hit.

Hope you're enjoying all the fun summer has to offer! I am making a new savory recipe from Martha Stewart's Pies and Tarts book for dinner tonight. I just might let you know how it turns out. It's going to be full of fresh Farmer's Market produce- so how bad can it be even if I mess it up, right?! Mmmm. Farmer's Market produce. One of my favorite things about summertime!

Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days...

Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days. Not counting Leap Years. That's a whole lot of missing.
I know.
That's how long it's been since I last kissed my daughter, Teagan. That's how many days my heart has wished I could turn back the hands of time. That's the number of times I've awoke in the morning and wished my reality was just a bad dream from which I could awaken from.
A whole decade of letting that reality sink in still hasn't changed the clarity of my memories of "that day". The one where everything I had learned and believed up to that point in my life would be shaken and tested. Ten years have passed and my heart rate still jumps at certain sights, sounds, smells and those triggers bring me right back to that day. They are etched, as few other memories in my life are, in such detail and wrapped up in the greatest pain I have ever felt. Sometimes I close my eyes and start to bring them to mind and all these years later I still find I need to catch my breath as those pictures unfold in my memory.
The crash. The screams. The slow-motion of it all. The disbelief and unreal feeling feeling all too real. The sense of urgency outweighing the terror I felt creeping in. The horror I was trying not to let in just kept unfolding unlike any dream I could have ever dreamed on my own. The weight of Teagan's limp body in my arms as I carried her several paces and then realized I had no where to go so I stopped and laid her down. That's the part when it all began to seem achingly real.
I kept hearing myself say, "Oh God... oh, God... oh, God... please."
Please, what?
Please, help. Please, NO! Please don't let this be us... just please, oh, please!
But it was us. And them.
And.
Her.
* * *
There is a story in the Bible where someone asks Jesus how many times must you forgive someone when they sin against you. One time? Two? Three? Seven?
Jesus' reply is "Not seven times, but seventy times seven."
Four hundred and ninety times.
That's an awful lot of forgiveness.
I used to wonder (as a young girl growing up as a Pastor's kid and hearing these stories often) why would Jesus pick some a random, big, crazy number? I used to think it was way too much. Who would ever need to forgive someone that many times... 490 times?
I certainly never dreamed it would be me. Moreover, I most certainly never dreamed that not only would I have to choose to forgive seventy times seven, but even hundreds more times than that.
Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty times. In just the first 10 years alone.
Forgiveness is a choice. I choose daily to forgive.
But I must confess and be truthful too and tell you that sometimes I fail. Some days I have desired forgiveness in my heart and soul, yet I have fallen short in living it out in the actions of my life that day. I have claimed forgiveness to be so, but it hasn't always been true in the thoughts of my mind. I have even "fought it" on particularly tough days that simply haven't felt fair for me to forgive. There have been lots of tough days over the past 10 years. There have been lots of days where I have felt life to be unfair.
But it isn't my place to decide when or why or how or where. As much as I would like to choose which days I can forgive fully and which days I can just skip that part, I know I am not the one who gets to decide. I am not the one chosen to hand out the punishment or sentence. I was chosen for something else. I am asked to forgive out of the overflow of forgiveness given to me. I am asked to show mercy where none is deserved. I have been shown grace and in such an act given to me even when I was less than, I am changed and now I know it is grace that I can extend to another who is less than too.
Ten years ago I was "doing everything right". I was a middle-class, tax-paying, home-keeping, church-going, hard-working wife and mom to three young kids who just happened to sit down around a table at a restaurant with my family in hopes of simply enjoying a simple Sunday brunch together. However, the actions of another forever changed the way I now look at life.
I wish I could say that my scars have healed and that we've blossomed into a family that lives life to the fullest and has learned to leave our worries behind.
The fact is that 10 years later I still feel an ache inside on a lot of days. Sometimes I even mutter the words, "I forgive you" outloud just to try to make myself believe that truth and hopefully feel it a bit more clearly inside. I know I have forgiven. I have claimed it over and over and I do feel it has changed the way I live. But it is still oftentimes a conscious choice- or should I say a surrender on my part to claim that forgiveness. I'll even admit that it's still a lesson I wish I never had to learn. Yet it seems to be the life lesson I've needed most.
I am nothing.
Teagan was nothing.
The one who turned our lives upside-down is nothing.
We all are nothing.
Without Him.
Without His Grace.
Without His Forgiveness. Without His love and mercy and compassion and healing.
I choose to believe that His ways are not my ways; His are higher and perfect and Just.
Good even.
Even when I don't feel it. Even when I have to pick up my cross daily and claim it to be true.
I will.
For 10 years I have.
It hasn't always been easy. Or nice. Or pretty.
Or wrought with showers of blessings- as the old hymn says.
I'll be honest.
It hurts.
A lot of days it still hurts.
Teagan was my light~ my delight~ she was irreplaceable and there is still a void in my heart and forever will bein my life where I feel she should be. Where I miss everything about her.
Wyndham too is a daily reminder of the most hurtful day of our lives as we continue to watch her struggle to do many of the "normal" things others can do. We see her suffer pains in her life that many will never know. With each diaper change and never-ending trips to and from therapy sessions we are reminded that some hurts will never go away. We have learned to live with them.
Three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days ago the sky was blue, the sun was shining down and somehow our lives suddenly erupted with chaos all around.
Ten years later we've "righted" a lot of things. We've learned to laugh through our tears. We've learned to hold on to even the tiniest threads of hope at times. We've chosen to forgive and to live that and truly mean it- not simply mouth the words. We've healed more than we could have imagined we could or would- both inside and out. We've loved again. We've believed in brighter days. We've brought more kids into the world that at times felt empty and dark. We've witnessed happiness and beauty and joy and miracles.
We have walked a long, winding, twisted path that still doesn't always seem like the path to be on, but we know that faith sometimes asks us to walk places we would rather not go. Faith often means we must take the next step no matter what lies around the next turn. It means being willing to trust, simply because we know and believe in the One who is leading- He can be trusted.
Ten years of remembering. Of missing. Of wishing it all different. Of wanting things to never change from the way they were. Ten years of tears that feel like they'll never stop- then finding moments of joy in the midst of them. Ten years of forgiving and hoping and believing that it makes a difference. In us. In her. In anyone who wonders if it even does make a difference in life to forgive.
The answer is yes. It does. It can. It will.
If you allow it to.
I'll never stop remembering Teagan. I'll never stop missing her. I'll never stop loving her. Or telling stories about her to anyone that is willing to listen. I'll never stop wanting to live life more fully because of her. She is and always will be thelove of my heart.
I forgive, not because of her, but because of Him.
I follow- because He is faithful.
I believe- because He promises to make all things new.
I hope- because He gives mercy.
I am changed, not because of one day in my life, but because of what He did one day for me. I am changed because of who HE is. I still give Him the broken, messed up pieces of my heart and life and trust that even as He redeems the brokeness that it's not for my sake.
But for His glory.
As I think back to the horror of that day- July 29th, 2001- it's scary and terrifying and ugly and gloomy and filled with despair. Yet somehow God has brought good out of it. Even when I don't notice the goodness. Sometimes it's hard to see it very often; that's been especially true in our lives the past several months. But looking back has made me realize just how great God is. I still have a whole future of choosing forgiveness and giving our hurts and challenges to Him.
I know, without a doubt, as I have had 10 years- three thousand, six-hundred and fifty days- of daily reminders that He is seeing us through! Today I pause to reflect and to humbly give thanks to God for bringing us this far.

The number of her days...

Yesterday I posted on my FaceBook status that Teagan came up to me while I was making her lunch and out of the blue asked me, "Mommy, how many days am I?". I spun around and looked at her and sort of laughed when I told her, "I'm not exactly sure of the number, but you're a lot of days old, Sweetie, and you have a lot of days left".

It turns out I was wrong.

She had only a couple of days left on this earth.

I have been thinking a lot about how I might have lived those 48 hours differently if I had known they would be our last days together. I've blogged about the topic before and how I really feel it was probably best for me not to know- especially when life took such a drastic turn. I know nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen in our lives back then.

A big part of the peace and acceptance of Teagan's death though has hung on the fact that we know and trust that God was not surprised one bit by what happened. In fact, the Bible even tells us that even before a single day comes to be, He has ordered that number perfectly.

God knew before Teagan ever took her first breath just how many days she would live out on this earth.

She lived the perfect number of days. For her.

It's not to my liking, that's for certain, but my heart has accepted it as much as a mother's heart can, I believe.

She lived and loved fully. I know I overthink the what if's, the why's, the how's and never stop wondering where we would be in life if things had gone differently that day. Somehow just knowing that I'll never forget and I'll never stop loving her- even when she's gone helps to temper the weight of the grief I feel from all we've lived through and emptiness we've felt having Teagan gone. The breadth of her life was short, but the impact I still feel from the days she did live on earth have forever touched the core of me.

Tomorrow we mark 10 years since our tragedy at The Old Depot.

I only hope that even as I recall the memories of our past I won't take the days we all have left for granted. Not one single one.

Bella's birthday and thoughts...

Yesterday was Bella's 9th birthday. She requested Baked Caramel French Toast for breakfast and she is in love with all things Pokemon, so I added some detailing to a Ryke's cake and it was one sugary, tasty day for all of us. =)

I was secretly hoping her birthday wish would be for all the laundry to wash, dry and put itself away, but I guess that wasn't it as I still have two clean piles to put away as I type this. I hope she wished for good things to happen in life. We are all still so ready for things in life to turn down the stress levels a bit and to get back to a more "normal" state. It's been a wild, long year for all of us and there's still a ways to go too.

I always get especially nostalgic at Bella's birthday as she was born just 4 days prior to the first annivesary of Teagan's death and our family tragedy. It's still so hard to grasp all that went on in that one calendar year back from July '01-'02. I still can't begin to know how it is that a person can lose one child and gain another in less than a year's time, but I can tell you that Bella has added joy and personality and she is such a thoughtful girl too. Nobody could have ever filled Teagan's {sparkly!} shoes, but Bella sure filled our hearts back with a taste of happiness and hope that we hadn't had in a long time. I'm so glad God sent her into our lives 9 years ago. I only wished she could have met her big sister.

Happiness is...

Happiness is all around us. Somewhere. In someone or something or even in a dream we imagine no matter where we are or what we are going through. I have learned the secret of seeing or finding happiness. It's in being open to it. Looking for it. Wanting it. Aching for it. Being intentional about seeking it.

Suddenly, sometimes right in front or above or swirling around you, there it is.

Happiness was so evident when Crew got his hands into a new bucket of chalk and had a clear, blue sunny day to play with it on the driveway. Happiness rarely costs a thing, but at the same time you can't begin to put a price on it. It just is. It doesn't have conditions or strings attached or deadlines or hidden agendas.

My biggest problem with happiness?

It's me.

Far too often I miss it.

I miss seeing it.

I miss looking for it.

I want it packaged differently.

I want to make it happen my way.

Or the other person's way.

Or I just plain forget that it's even out there because clouds seem to get in my way, when in reality the clouds are the vehicle and tool leading me through or toward happiness.

I used to believe in a world where happiness was the guarantee. I used to believe that if you did everything right- or at least tried to do it all right- you'd find it or it would simply come to you. I have since grown and experienced the truth which is the reality that "right" isn't a guarantee for anything. It still is the best way to live and try to do things. But it isn't a shield or automatic "free card" for experiencing happiness.

In this month of reflection I find it even more important for me to look for the simple happiness in people and things around me.

Like laughter of kids in summer as they play chalk on the driveway.

Like the look of pride on Wyndham's face as she pedaled her bike on her own the other night after nearly a year of not being able to ride on it.

I see it in the sparkle of Teague's eyes as he tries something new- like opening a cupboard door and pulling out the containers stacked neatly inside the doors.

I see it in Bella and Ava when they ask for a "sleepover" and they hear the answer "yes" and then they smile as they head off to bed in the same room.

I sense it in Brock each time he gets to do something where he exercises independence. Even or should I say, especially in the little things- like getting a library card and riding his bike to check out some books.

I know it's there. Every day. In the big stuff; the little stuff; the amazing moments and equally in the mundane ones too.

I am choosing to claim it and embrace it daily right now. It might not change my world and they way I see things or change the way things are, but it changes a moment. Or two. Or three. And when I start noticing happiness the way it was meant to be experienced, I start to feel it in my heart. That, my friends, happens to be the place where happiness matters most.

Summer days.

Summer seems to fly by no matter if you're a kid enjoying a break from school or if you're busy trying to keep up with kids home from school. Isn't that right? Or even if you don't have kids and you just want to soak in as much fun and sun as possible. There just aren't enough hours to squeeze everything in.

But we're trying our best around here. Wyndham has a demanding schedule of therapy right now and that actually has allowed me to get out with the other kids a little bit more than I had thought I would be the past few weeks. She gets to spend some free time at the club with Chip- sitting at the computer playing Paint and games and even getting to ride the cart around the course from time to time. She is loving it and is working hard at getting comfortable on her feet and using a cane. I am much more hopeful with her prognosis now than I was at the beginning of the summer. Sometimes hard work actually does pay off!

One of the things I have to do during these summer days of July is to try to over-compensate for what I am feeling inside as we get closer and closer to the anniversary of our Old Depot incident. It is such a struggle for me inside still- 10 years later- to not let the grief creep in and overshadow the fun we still can have as a family no matter what is on our hearts. One of the things I did, mostly for me =), was to get out the Easy Bake oven and make a couple of batches of tiny cookies. It is one of the activities Teagan loved to do most and her fingerprints are still smudged on the window on the front of the oven where you peek inside to watch the cookies bake. I have told my kids they are welcome to peek inside and touch the window too; however no one is allowed to ever whip the window clean. Just knowing that she is still a part of the memoies of the little oven makes the treats we bake taste that much better to me. The kids all oved making the chocolate crinkle cookies {click here for the recipe we used and love!} and I just hope they will grow up understanding that grief and remembering and having fun and laughing can all be rolled into one. I don't know how else to live with my grief other than to incorporate it into their lives too. I don't think they will ever fully grasp what a sudden and profound loss we experienced when Teagan died, and rarely, if ever, do they see me shed a tear anymore, because I simply don't cry they way I used to. I think they will associate good memories and fun times when it comes to Teagan and that's exactly the way I want them to think about the sister that still holds a big piece of my heart. I think Teagan would be happy to see us having picnics and baking with the play oven and recalling the ways she filled our lives with joy.

These summer days are challenging for me in more than one way. But I am glad that I've been able to learn to tie joy and sorrow together. Not just for me. But for them too.

It's never the best photo...

It's never the most techinically correct, nor do I care if everyone is looking into the camera with smiles on their faces- it's more than that to me. Our last family photo with Teagan was taken as we sat together awaiting the 4th of July fireworks. Each year that we've had the opportunity to do so, I have made a point to try to get a family picture snapped. This one was taken yesterday as we sat and waited for our local parade to begin.
It's crazy to me how life has gotten so much harder for us over the past 10 years, rather than as I would have expected it to have gotten "easier". Maybe it is the marking of a decade and that reality sinking in as the end of this month approaches and the 10th anniversary of our tragedy draws near. Maybe it is simply I wish with all my might that I could live the life I imagine in my mind, but wake up to the fact that wishes don't always come true. Maybe it is the fact that Wyndham- who so deserves every good thing that this world has to offer her- has walked such a long, difficult, hard path for almost her whole life, and she is the one I watch sitting on the sidelines having to let life pass her by far too many times that I feel nothing in this world can ever make it up to her anymore.
Maybe it is in the surrendering.
It's still my biggest challenge. To know when to hold on and when to let go.
I feel I've lived it and learned it, and yet it is the lesson that keeps coming up. Time and time again.
I gave up on the "perfect" family photo years ago, thank goodness for that! But I'm still not ready to give up on loving all of us in spite of our imperfections. It's our flaws that keep us holding on. More tightly than I imagined at times, but the blessing is we're all still together. I just never dreamed we would ever have gotten as big as we did! Ten years changes a lot of things- our family looks a whole lot different than it did back then. I wonder what we'll look like in another 10 years! I have no idea, but I can tell you that we won't be perfect then either! =)

Coke Floats & Pinky Promises.

Today our family is keeping in tradition for the 10th year and having Coke floats together to honor Teagan's memory and make a new one at the same time. It's our annual "Coke Float Day"! We never dreamed ten years ago that having a late night spontaneous Coke float with Teagan would become such a cherished memory. But as circumstances would have it, just one month later as I stood at her hospital bedside and wrapped her tiny pinky around mine and promised to love her forever, I said the most difficult goodbye in my life. I still can't fully wrap my mind around how life took such a dramatic and twisting turn in just a blink of an eye.

Sometime after Teagan died, and likely one of the days where all the strength I could muster went to feeding Wyndham bottles with medicine in it and the rest of my time was spent with tears streaming my face, I flipped through photos and recounted happy times we'd spent with Teagan. It was the one thing that I did to keep my mind off the hoorror of what we'd been through- I had to concentrate on how lucky we had been to have such a great little girl in our life and we had been blessed with lots of wonderful "ordinary" moments with her in 4 short years.

When June 30th rolled around that first year after losing Teagan, we made a special point of recreating the moment of Chip and Teagan's late night Coke Float with Brock. We wanted his life to have some happy times too- even as difficult as life had become for us. In doing so we found that not only did we get the chance to remember a wonderful time with Teagan, but it was a chance to turn our heartache into a new happy memory at the same time. And goodness knows our hearts needed opportunities for joy in life again!

We had lived and learned how quickly life changes unexpectedly and also just how quickly our days go by- no matter what is going on in them. Big stuff, little stuff; everyday, routine stuff, or extraordinary, amazing stuff!

You can click to enlarge the photos here to read the journaling on a scrap page I made when I first started scrapping back in 2006. I remembered this night with Teagan and Chip so clearly. If tragedy hadn't struck it would have just been one more picture among so many others I snapped through the years. But in light of what happened, it became a treasure and a gift that now lives on each year as Coke Float Day.

Our family will be "celebrating" this ordinary, special day out at Chip's golf club with some frothy mugs of root beer or coke and ice cream. But we invite you to join us by having your own round of Coke floats or whatever it is in your life that would be meaningful and memorable and fun. Don't wait for a "reason" to enjoy today. Don't wait for a crisis to be reminded that today is a gift- just as it is every single day! Pop some popcorn and enjoy a movie together, or go for a walk and feed some ducks at a nearby pond or bring a fresh bunch of flowers to a neighbor who needs a pick-me-up or even call a loved one that you haven't spoken to in a long while and say, "I've missed you and love you!" simply because you have the chance to do so.

We've lived through some dark, grief-stricken days and still have ongoing challenges that affect us every day. We've learned it's so important to take time and intentionally live in the moment. We aren't superheroes when it comes to happiness and sometimes the biggest life lesson we've learned from our heartache and loss of Teagan is to never take the little moments for granted. We're so thankful we had Coke float night with Teagan and we're so thankful that we can enjoy it each year (and sometimes several times each year!) with the rest of our kids too. We hope you are moved to take an ordinary moment in your life and make it memorable and extraordinary in your own special way because of the legacy Teagan left to us. She was truly a gift to us. To you, and to whoever chooses to celebrate life- in the big and little things. Happy Coke Float Day from the whole Ferlaak family today! Find something to celebrate!