The Snowman that will last until June.

Ab is such an "I want to play outside...get me out the freaking house" kind of girl. Much more than I'll ever be. She sees snow and she's gone...and can be outside for HOURS. This past weekend gave her ample opportunity for projects in the snow, and the project she put on the table was not for the weak.

Earlier in the afternoon, Ab made a stop through in the kitchen and mentioned that she needed "a little help" rolling the base of the snowman. Unbeknown to us, she had rolled a ball about 30 or so feet and had created a pretty good base all by herself. She and Blair (being the good, fun dad that he is and I'm not) then went outside to begin making Frosty (That's what Abby later named him...very original). (Invitations for me to join were promptly excused with "I don't do snow, just sand." I have never owned ski/snow pants and I've lived in Utah 20 years...)

The beginning stages:

A break had to be given for church and dinner...and then those two were back at it. With a goal to roll the base all the way around to the front yard. Blair called our neighbor Deeno (Who is a recent transplant from the Bahamas) to help push.

This is where it became entertaining for me. I even put on my hood and stood outside to watch. All the while laughing so hard that tears began streaming. These two large men took TWO hours to complete this world's (or at least Howe's) largest snowman. I think they both were exhausted at the end.

Abby was in absolute seventh heaven. Laughing, running, sliding, and LOVING every minute of her 10 degree, three hour experience with her dad. Making a memory I doubt she will ever forget. I'm so glad I at least married someone who remembers how much fun it is to play...even though it requires a few extra ibuprofen this time around.

The Recliner.

I sat in a recliner in Deak's blue and red room, in the middle of the night, for a year.
It kept my back comfortable and held my arm in a way that prevented it from falling asleep.
I awoke two or three times a night and held my fragile boy's body in my arms. I gave him medicine through a nebulizer with the prayer that the mask I held carefully in front of his nose would allow him to wake up in the morning.

That chair, my husband, and I... kept him alive.
What a year that was.
I don't remember many milestones or events. Although I know much of it was characterized by hospital food and specialists I didn't want to have to meet. Exhaustion overtook most of my ability to recall specifics, but I do remember feelings. I'll never forget most of them.
Tired.
Panic.
Joy.
Hope.
Guilt...

...because I know that year will also be marked for my sweet girl. She grew ten years wiser during that time and furthered an independence due to necessity, and a mom that was coping while in survival mode. My heart aches at the thought that I may have forgotten at times to show her how important she is and how deeply my heart feels for her. Oh, how I pray that she will someday understand and forgive.

This chair may be leaving my home today. Blair and I have been selling items we've deemed "unnecessary" as a way to supplement our income a bit, and there is a buyer.
I've cried many tears at the thought of losing this chair. The new mother who is buying it won't know...she won't understand the significance it has held in my life.

But, I need to move on.
I hope today becomes a today that I will look back and recall in future years.
I hope it is the beginning of an ability to lose some of this fear I've felt and still hold on to too closely.
A closure of one world, and an opening to a world I wasn't sure would ever exist.
I no longer need that chair to help Deak breathe.
He can do that for himself.
In fact, he could walk to that chair if he really wanted to.

I think it's time to let go.

It's a good thing these things are happening at Christmastime and I have FM 100 to fall back on.

I'd like to think I manage stress well. My independence-stricken, type A personality says I "Have to, or else."

I've made a goal recently to consciously work harder at being kind. Not the fake, bring you a casserole kind of kind, but the real thing. I just really feel like I can be better. I hope to be at least.

I figured Christmas was as good of time as any to begin this task, so I've been trying...but, the stars have not been aligned in my favor. Certain obstacles have tested my patience/stress management level, which in turn, create attitude problems that I frequently need to adjust. I've had to ensure FM 100 and it's constant Micheal Buble' (or whatever) playing Christmas songs are on in my car at all times to redirect and refocus back to reason I am trying so hard.

The obstacles are included, but certainly NOT limited to:

*Deak screaming anytime Micheal Buble' or any other mellow singer decides to sing on FM 100. He prefers the Hip Hop version of Santa Claus is Coming to Town (which includes several meaningful lines: "Yo, Santa..Got my Ice? and "Rudolph...I ain't cool with him no more...he got the six four." are just a few faves) ... and those who know Deak, know he isn't shy about expressing his hatred of certain musicians. This makes listening to FM 100 and de-stressing nearly impossible while driving with him. I wish Black Eyed Peas or Eminem would create a Christmas Album.

*$700 worth of overdue work on the car. I love when those things have to happen in December. Apparently I've needed brakes, tires, air filters, a battery, windshield wipers, and several belts for quite some time. Hmmm...who knew?

*Abby's seasonal (December) ADHD/I kinda think she's on crack mental disorder. I find myself taking VERY deep breaths and closing my eyes each time she begins prepping for her dramattitude. (Yes, I just made up that word). On a positive note, she was chosen to eat lunch with the Principal at her school this week, and was beyond excited.

*Dentist checkups suck. They suck worse when the three wisdom teeth you were hoping would disappear on their own (don't they all?) decide to explode with decay. When I told my dentist I didn't feel any pain, and need to wait until the summer to pull them...He just kind of laughed and said,"Ah...okay. But, call me the day you wake up and want to shoot yourself. That's when your ugly, decayed nasty ass tooth has hit the high road." (Okay maybe I embellished the last line...the rest true)
Oh yes, and I need a crown.

Yippee.

*My hair is from Hell right now. It's like I've been taken over by the spirit of an eighty year woman who wanted to pass me her coarse, dry, gray, straggly hair do and get a good laugh out of my misery. It is falling out of my head and I have two inch gray (yes, gray) roots showing. I am ONLY 30!!!! I tried to get out of going to the Relief Society Christmas party because of the gray, but I was bribed with a diet coke from a friend and enticed to see if I could get away with sneaking it in.

(I got away with it right up to the point where I SPILLED it in the middle of the pathway...karma.)

That's all...in the spirit of Christmas and my goal to be kinder...I will not allow these momentary spite filled rages to overtake my day. If you see me humming Christmas carols to myself while in public, just walk away, give me my moment, and try to pretend it is not a sign of delusional behavior.

Remember.

I smiled watching Abby under the Christmas tree tonight. She was just hanging out underneath, eating homemade chocolate chip cookies and reading stories. Echos of "Run, Run, Run, It's Fun, Fun, Fun" from the Yo Gabba Gabba Guitar and Booner announcing the Jazz game played in the background.

Abby tends to function in crazy mode during the month of December. She moves 100 miles a minute, and wants to see, feel, taste and touch everything around her. Her already bright eyes shine in that pure unadulterated excitement, and each time I see them I get to briefly remember my trips to Candy Cane Lane and Christmas Street. I feel 70 degree Christmas mornings filled with Cabbage Patch dolls and Madonna tapes.

Even though I am tempted to spike her milk with a hefty dose of Benadryl each morning, I am certain there will be a time in her near future when my tears will sting as I think of how she's grown beyond this stage.

A stage she gives me the opportunity to remember again, and I never want to see her lose.

Last night was spent decorating the tree, listening to Christmas music, sipping sparkling cider and eating pumpkin pie. It was spent with the sincere hope that I will give my kids the same types of sparkle filled memories that I have of this time of year. At least enough of them to help compensate for my fair share of non sparkly memories that I am destined to also relay to their adulthood.

Cheers to the beginning of the season.

My Heart is Walking.

I've put off writing about this because my heart is not quite sure if it is ready to expose the depth of emotions these past two weeks have brought me. Words will not begin to do justice to the experience of watching my baby boy take his first long-awaited step away from my arms. Away from my arms and into a world that I am learning to accept he will have to eventually become a part of.

We have waited so long for Deak to get his walker. We were loaned one for the weekend several months ago, and knew we needed to wait until we could get the one that would work best for him. The timing couldn't have been more perfect.

He is finally ready. I couldn't make him ready and I couldn't control the timing. I have had to step back the past few months and attempt to take less ownership of his therapeutic accomplishments. Something that is really, really, really hard for me to do. But, it is something that will hopefully help with my sanity.

I expected tantrums at first. I anticipated screaming, yelling and stiff stubborn legs.

I got laughs, smiles, kissy lips and purposeful movement.

It was his choice this time...not mine.

While walking, Deak's eyes light up and he pushes his cute little lips together in concentration. When he arrives at his destination...he claps for himself and his smile takes up his whole face. He feels proud, autonomous, and pretty freaking cool.

In the past 10 or so days we have had the walker, Deak has learned how to maneuver it more than I anticipated he would learn in a month. Today I took my niece, nephew, Abby and Deak to a Children's Museum and decided to venture out into the "real" world with the walker.

Deak had issues with screaming every time the walker or any of us stopped walking, but it was amazing to watch him try and try and try to get where he wanted to go.

My boy has grown up.

We spent some time in the art area and painted pictures. I knew Deak liked it, but I really understood he liked it, when I watched him figure out how to turn the wheels on his walker, and walk twenty or so feet in about four minutes.

His destination...paint project number two.

He got to choose what to do for one of the first times in his life.

And, I got to watch.

The view was pretty cool.

Abby needs an Agent.

Abby was in her first official play a month ago, and was SUPER excited to be a part of it.

The second grade at her school got an opportunity to spend two weeks with Zinze, an African drummer and artist. At the end of the two weeks they performed with the drums and a play. Only a few children got to participate in the play, and Abby was stoked she was chosen to be one of them. She had to miss several recesses for "practice"...all in preparation for her one line.

"I am the Dove."

She was fabulous, and truly loved every minute of it.

Step aside Hannah Montana.

Easy.

I've sat in lots and lots of waiting rooms.

I could drive to Primary Children's Hospital with my eyes closed, but hope to never try.

I've watched parents head inside those doors and hear the words "Everything went great"... then leave. Hopefully, never returning. That visit being a "one hit wonder."

That is not exactly our story, and I am okay with the fact that it most likely will never be.
But, today...it was.
I got a taste of easy. Boy. It feels good.

My Deak had tubes replaced today. Nothing serious for most. Last time he got he tubes in, he also underwent a bronchoscopy. That procedure caused his lungs to react and fill up with mucus. A simple twenty minute procedure turned into two hours and an overnight hospital stay. Today, we arrived at the hospital at 7:45 and we were home by noon. In fact, Deak and I decided to screw the dietary guidelines and eat fries on the way home to celebrate.

Easy for most, but a miracle for me.