Sunday, October 28, 2012

They say things come in three's

Rebecca called me on Tuesday while I was out.
"I fell on my arm and it really hurts."
Really? Seriously?

 I cried all the way to the doctor's office and made Rebecca feel bad. Never mind that she should have been in Achievement Days. Never mind that she shouldn't have been on her scooter in that area. Never mind that I felt like I couldn't handle one more thing right now. (But really, when do people ever feel like taking on one more thing?)

The doctor tried to make me feel better by telling me it was a really "good" break, the "best kind" and that kids with this heal "super fast" and she should only be in a cast for three weeks. 
It still didn't change the fact that this is our third break in the last year and we have yet another medical bill to add to our rather long list. 

Peter was having a little tantrum saying that there must be something wrong in this family with our calcium intake. I decided it wasn't an optimal time to say that was very unlikely.

Moving on . . .

I forget how beautiful fall is until its here--the colors and the coolness of this time of year. Somehow it proves good for my soul. 
One of my favorite quotes is by Emily Jane Bronte, 
Every leaf speaks bliss to me 
fluttering from the autumn tree.
I need to stitch that on something.

This year has been challenging. On top of all our medical expenses our income went down again. Peter is busy going to school. There is just only so much we can juggle at once and so we've it is time to take a step back, take a breather, and sell the house.

The good news is that we have a rental just around the corner waiting for us, which means we don't have to change things in the school or the ward for the kids. Peter can finish school, study and pass the CPA, and we can catch our breath and let things stabilize out before we buy again.

It isn't terrible news. I think we are actually relieved to be done fretting about it, and the other house, though smaller, has a much better layout to serve our current needs--which means we can move Will out of our closet and John can sleep feet away from his parents. In his own bed. That isn't on my floor. Because right now this is what I wake up to almost everyday:

It's rather intrusive. 

Honestly the biggest downer is our dog. My dog. He can't come and I have been bawling about it for a solid week. It really is the stupidest thing I am so sad about this dog. Dogs are so much work. The grooming, the food, the darting out the door, the counter-surfing for food, the barking, the vet expenses, etc.

I just can't seem to convince my heart of all this yet. Who is going to be waiting with baited breath to take a walk? He won't be sleeping by my door when I leave my room in the morning. He won't be waiting for me to get out of the shower or come home from the grocery store. He won't be there to lay down and put his head on my feet or paw my lap to give him one more pat.

I was sobbing it out the other day and John gave me this to try to make me feel better:

He said it is to remember Charlie by. It only made me cry harder.
Stupid, stupid dog. I can't even have people talk to me about it. Just typing this is making me bawl. 

The good news is that I seem to be taking it harder than anyone else. Everyone is sad but they seem to be coping pretty well. We have a new home picked out for him with a family that has another Standard Poodle. A beautiful white female. We keep joking that Charlie is getting a girlfriend soon. They are a wonderful family from what I have been able to gather. They have a giant fenced backyard and do all kinds of hiking, camping and other outdoor things with their dog. Charlie is going to be no worse for the wear I can tell you. This has actually been really comforting to me and I think maybe I'm starting to come to terms with it, but just for the record don't ask me about it. Sensitive topic right now, especially to a woman three months from having a baby.
Speaking of which, you know who else I woke up to today?

I know.
I got nothing to complain about.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Will takes a bath

 This is Will's reaction to the flash of the camera.

Rewinding the clock three months--

Sunday, October 7, 2012

Thoughts on General Conference

Truth: I'm fascinated by my own son. 
After spending my whole life not really understanding the inner-workings that are the teenage boy I now have an inside look:
 Sometimes it isn't pretty.

 But sometimes it is kind of amazing.

 He recently did this series of pictures for his room representing earth, fire, water and air.
(Note the top of the white board he has scheduled in time to laugh at Mason 
for having to sit through driver's ed)

 I'm sure mom's all over the world felt like me yesterday when President Monson announced the age change for missionaries. Here is my own son who is turning 17 in less than a month, and I'm thinking, how can this be?
And more importantly, am I getting him ready? 
I went through a whole flood of emotions. My son could be a missionary in a year. Not that he will as he is still a Junior in High School, but it is just strange to think. A bittersweet thought. The time is flying by isn't it? And it reminds me that the work is moving forward more quickly than ever before, which is incredibly exciting. 
I was alone in my room with Will when I heard it and had to yell down the stairs, "Holy Cow!!" Then I spent the rest of the day walking around the house saying, "I just can't believe it? Can you believe it?"

At least John isn't leaving me anytime soon.

 Or Squilliam, the Droolmaster.

Enjoy the plethora of pictures I took while trying to capture a tender moment between Nathaniel and Will:


That is a Patrick face if I ever saw one.
(Doesn't seem to have matured any since the big announcement.)