Snow!

I have been waiting and waiting and waiting for snow! I may complain about the cold and the dark and the looong winters, but I love the holidays and I love snow. So when I woke up this morning to the measly two inches that we got, I was geeked.

Of course, as usual, geeked only as long as it took me to start thinking about Ari. Last year we didn't do a ton with her in the snow, mainly because we felt she was too small to handle the cold very well. So she stayed inside when the boys went sledding, and she stayed with my parents when we went to cut our Christmas tree down. So this year would have been her first play-winter, and she would have been falling down in the snow like crazy, I assume, and I'm super super super bummed that she's not here to do it. Yes, I'm sad that she's gone, but more than anything I'm just frustrated that there is so much that she never got to experience here. And I'm aware that Heaven is perfect and she's in a better place and blah blah blah, but isn't the whole point that this world was supposed to be a gift? What happened to Ariana is like giving a little girl a baby doll for her birthday and then ripping it away from her just as soon as she starts playing. And that royally irritates me. She was supposed to get to experience all the good and bad and in-between down HERE. With us.


Anyway, I pulled my shit together and took Tanner out to shovel the driveway and play in the snow and that helped a little bit. T made a little snowman, but the snow wasn't packing very well, and we were starting to get cold, so we came inside for colored marshmallow hot cocoa. Okay, Tanner came inside for that, I came inside for coffee :)


Tomorrow is the Dykhuis family Christmas party, woohoo.

Despite everything...

so thankful.


It may seem as though I'm caught up completely in the sadness and the depressio neuroses that come right along with this all. And don't get me wrong, it's so crushing that I don't have the words to describe it.

But the thing is...I'm still lucky enough to have known her and made a million happy memories. So yeah, I'm sad and I'm crushed and I still think a million times about what I could have or should have or would have done...but there's so many memories of our smiling girl.

Like, at this time of night, when the boys were asleep when she'd wake up to nurse one last time for the night. I know she'd have been on more of a schedule by now, but those were times for just me and her. Well..more often than not for Ryan too, since if she was super fussy he'd wake up and walk her for a bit.

Did I really complain that she had been waking up at 4 a.m. to play for weeks on end? Or that she escaped my diaper-changing ministrations and pooped on the living room carpet? (that one was basically hilarious though)


It seems strange, and maybe it is, but the smiles are as consuming as the sadness. And remembering the smiles don't necessarily bring on the sadness. We've been Christmas shopping and it seems like every store displays their cute Christmas clothes for little girls front and center. Sometimes those bring smiles and sometimes they make me cry.


It's all so unfair. But like we told everyone who came to honor her brief life, we want people to remember her smile and her laugh, not to dwell on the fact that it was all cut short. Easier said than done, but...Ariana was so full of life that she wouldn't want ours to end. I can't wait to see her again.



/ramble.

Today I'm back in a funk, but maybe tomorrow will be better. Heck, maybe this afternoon will be better. Maybe it will be worse, but then it will get better again. Sigh...tired of ups and downs.

After all these years, finally starting to care about my own mental health and getting my own personal psychoses under control and now it feels like I'm just back at square one. I'm both looking forward to and dreading the holidays. I keep hearing from others who are in our boat, "Don't overcommit, don't get stressed, allow yourself an out." It's impossible in our family. If I walk away, I'm rude or antisocial. If we leave early one place, people make comments. If we get to the other place late, we get comments or looks. We see everybody on the big holidays. They can all just deal with the fact that we will be there when we can be; we have two families. On Christmas it's not uncommon to do Christmas 4 or more times at 4 or more locations, from Saugatuck all the way to Lansing (sometimes) and back.

If people can't understand that this year is different for us, if they can't understand that it's harder than it ever was before to juggle everything, then I don't want to deal with it. I don't need guilt trips and I don't need stress. I'm stressed enough thank you very much. I don't need guilty little comments like, "Well...you do with them what you want to do and we'll be here when you're done...." or "You should be here at (XYZ)" or dirty looks or attitudes or little sighs. I normally LOVE the holidays other than that junk, and this year the only reason I even give a damn about them is to keep Tanner in the loop and make sure that his holidays are great. So I am just not going to put up with it. And if I get any of the looks or comments or attitude, I'm not going to ignore it this year. I'm not going to be mean, but I'm not going to take it anymore! And I can't deal with it this year...there's way too much else going on in my head.


Did I ever really think I was stressed out before? Or sad? Or having bad days? This is a nightmare...except I don't get to wake up from it. Too bad time machines don't exist. Even if I couldn't prevent what happened, I could go back and just watch how happy we were.

I need to stop reading the news.

In less than 24 hours I read about:

1.) A missing toddler who was reported gone by his mother who put him to bed at 10:30 at night and found him missing at 11:00 a.m. when she awoke. It late turned out she killed him. Because he cried.

2.) A couple who starved their baby for 14 months so that she wouldn't become "obese." At four months old she still weighed less than her birth weight. At 14 months she had gained 5 pounds. They face criminal charges and could each spend (gasp!) a year and a half in prison.

3.) A couple who put a wire on their disabled daughter to prove she was abused by her teacher and the teacher's aide after complaining to the superintendent and being told their daughter was lying.

4.) Grrr.

Gastritis

So it turns out that Gastritis (eg, indigestion/heartburn) can be a lot more serious than discomfort after a heavy meal.

For the past three days I've had the extremely painful feeling of a softball-sized lump in my chest, right over my sternum. It gets so bad that the pain radiates to my back, my arms, my throat, my jaw, my head. It had me dizzy and sweating. I had written it off to bad indigestion on the first night, but when it continued into day three I thought I'd better see the doctor, since in my naivete I had never heard of indigestion lasting three straight days.

Turns out, it can! And it can do damage if it's not treated. So I'm on meds now to fix it, but dear god it hurts! Ultimately grateful it's not anything serious, and I feel a little silly going to the dr's office for "indigestion", but...damn...can't a sister get a break around here? Hope I feel better tomorrow.

UIA

I'm so annoyed with the unemployment agency in Michigan. Yesterday I got a letter that says my benefits are being audited because, and this a paraphrase, I've been receiving benefits longer than the average person based on current economic conditions.


REALLY?!? I've been on unemployment for 2 months and 2 weeks. What about all the people who have been on it for A YEAR because of all the extensions applied to benefits in the past years? I apply for jobs, not daily, but on a very regular basis amounting to an average of at least one-two per week. I check MTB daily. I check Monster.com daily. I've put feelers out in my personal network. I talk to people on a regular basis. I've got a tentative contract out with a company that just won't pull the trigger. So it's not like I'm sitting on my butt waiting for the chance to extend my state money.

I'm back to where I was in college - qualified, but can't get an interview. I know if I could just get an interview, I could slam-dunk a job. Frustrating. Every job I apply for ends up filled and I either get a really neato little rejection letter, or I check on it and it's already gone. And a lot of corporations anymore are asking for applicants NOT to call and check on the status of their resumes.

I *could* go back to restaurants. Assuming I could get a full 40 hours a week, I *might* be able to make as much as I do on unemployment (since UI is based on previous salary, I'm not sure if that's even a given). I have projects here at home that I'm content to work on, and it is great to have time to pour myself into them. But i WANT to work. I WANT to be around other people. I WANT for our way of life to continue undisturbed.



And then the UIA has the balls to say to me that I've been collecting benefits longer than the average person. 2-1/2 months. Right.

Sigh.


Anytime now, 2011. Anytime now, you could turn around and actually treat me right. I guess it's just not in the cards for this year.

For the record

I'm not, I don't think, as much of a jerk as my last couple of posts may lead you to believe.

I just had a really really bad day the other day and needed to vent. :-\


Thanks for listening.


Nine times out of ten what I want today is what I railed against yesterday, which is opposite of or nowhere near what I wanted the day before.


Poop.

Attention seekers

One thing that didn't bother me right at first but bothers the bejeebers out of me now is an attention seeker. Someone trying to draw people's attention to them because of our situation when they have NOTHING TO DO WITH IT.

People who had never even met Ariana, or met her one or two times, but never held her or played with her, people who hadn't even talked to us while she was alive, who are now soooo "broken up" that she's gone.

Guess what? I don't believe you. You didn't know her. You barely have taken time to know us. And now you want to use her death to get people to feel sorry for you.

You stink. You trivialize our loss and you trivialize the losses of others who have gone before us. I understand how sad it is when you hear of a tragedy like this, and ready empathy is an asset, not a deficit of feeling. But when you USE it to get other people to feel sorry for you, you show a disconnect and you show an utter disregard for the people who are truly struggling every day, sometimes just to get out of bed.

Ariana lit up the world; she brightened every heart and every room she entered. It's understandable that people are sad that she's gone. But using her death as a way to garner attention for yourself is shallow, despicable, and cruel to the rest of us who can barely function anymore. And you know what? Everyone can see through you. Everyone knows. So stop pretending. If you're struggling with something, you're struggling with something and you deserve support for it. But don't draw in a child's death just so that people feel more sorry for you and think that you're sooo strong. Because if you were part of this daily struggle, you'd realize...you're not strong. No one is strong in the face of the death of a child. You do what you have to do, but you're not strong.




/endrant

Punk-Ska Covers

Of classic songs and otherwise make me happy.
Today I carved an Ari pumpkin. I have to paint her little one yet, but the one is carved, and for the first time EVER carving a photo into a punkin, it turned out pretty well. I'm not completely satisfied, but there's a whole long lifetime of Halloweens left to improve my technique :P

I neeeeed a jooooobbbb. Too much darn time on my hands.
Stupid getting laid off.
Stupid. Stupid year. Bad year all around. Terrible year. I want to kick this year in the throat. Is it 2012 yet?


You know, I finally get over intensive self-doubt and excessive self-deprecation only to fall right back into it. And anyone who thinks that I can just pick myself up and dust myself off obviously has never had a child die on their watch. Even though there's nothing I could have done to prevent it and there was nothing I did to cause it, there's a whole freight train full of baggage there that's going to take a long long time to shed.



God knows life was infinitely less satisfying, but it was so much easier when I just dated douchebags and wasn't attached to anyone.

Frustrated

I don't know how much more I can take of this. Something good needs to happen, please, and soon. How much bad stuff is going to happen to our family this year? I hope not anymore.

So much to say and absolutely no words to say it.



adlfkjadfjaoweifnadkijsfdlkajedf.

More lyrics, call me an emo

He never dreamed he would bury her and go home to live alone
When he laid his rose to rest, he looked to Heaven and tried his best
to believe that

Roses will bloom again
Just wait and see.
Don't mourn what might have been
Only God knows how and when but
Roses will bloom again.

Quandary of a too-smart child

What to say when your child is scared, and you tell him, "It is okay, I won't let anything happen to you. I will always be here to protect you." and he says, "But you didn't protect Ariana..."

I've had a lot to say lately!

And most of it is just silly silly. I don't think this is silly silly, but I think it is paranoiac.



I am not afraid to die. I do not fear death, and I do not fear dying. I know where I'm headed. I know who has gone there before me, and I know who is there waiting for me. I know that Jesus loves me and that he is the reason I get to go be with the people I love.


But every day I have to pray that I can lose this fearful feeling over my shoulder that someone I love would die. I used to be terrified that my parents would die and I would still NEED them (emotionally)...that doesn't scare me so badly anymore (don't get me wrong - I'd be devastated!, but it just doesn't wig me out anymore like it did). I don't sleep well, because I worry that if I sleep, I'll miss some key thing, some clue, and I'll wake up to someone being gone (specifically, Tanner and Ryan). Because....it's happened before. There's no reason it couldn't happen again. And SIDS babies tend to have siblings that are SIDS babies. Now....Ariana is not TECHNICALLY a SIDS baby, but there was no definitive diagnosis as to her death (and that is a whole entire factory full of barrels of fish that I won't even get into here), so we have NO answers. The only thing I know is that we laid down for our Tuesday nap just like we always do, I woke up, and really, honestly, she was gone. I'd like to think she made it and fought all the way to the hospital, but reading all the reports, she was gone at some point right before, during, or right after the EMTs arrived.

And it's not that I'm all crazy psycho and I don't let the boys rest or anything. I am just absolutely terrified about it. I guess I never knew what death looked like. I'd never seen someone before the funeral staff had worked on them before. And, if you love somebody, you don't want to see them dead (duh), but if you have kids...it's a brand new ballgame with all different rules that don't make any sense if you discover one has died. And that's an image that I can't get out of my head. It went away for a while, but it's back again, and it makes me want to smash my head into the wall just to get it out of there...except I can't.


SO. ANYWAY. Long story short, it creeps me out a little bit when people sleep now. If I can't hear them breathing or moving or see their chests going up and down, I often have to fight down panic. Thank goodness both my boys snore. (So do Ari and I :-p) It's just one of those things.


So. Sorry to lay that all out there, but I wanted to get that off my chest. That being said I stand by what I said earlier - I am making a conscious effort to be a better person. That means not falling into the trap of becoming afraid of my own shadow. I see how people get involved in all sorts of destructive behaviors when they experience significant losses. If we didn't have Tanner I'd either never get out of bed or perhaps be drunk all the time. Maybe both? I don't know, thinking about drinking to drunkenness makes me feel kind of sick to my stomach anymore.

Just something to think about. All the things we should never ever ever ever have to think about but somehow in this stupid stupid world we have to. I keep reminding myself that to Ari, the world was all exciting and shiny every single day, and that's how I want to look at it, too.

A little bit for Ari, but mostly for me

I am going to get in shape. I've tried a couple times this year to quit smoking, and I get over the hump, and then start again after a week and a half or so.

No mas. I started Couch25K today, and hopefully that will stick. I realize that I'll never weigh or look like what I did in college, and frankly, I don't ever want to get to my lowest adult weight again. But I think I could drop some pounds and lose most of my belly and be in much better physical shape!

And I am not above using Ariana as my inspiration...in the 9 months I carried her and the 9 months I held her, she made me such a better person, and such a better mommy, that I don't see any reason why she shouldn't remain my inspiration to continue improving myself.


That and I REALLY need to stop sitting around and dwelling on all the would-have and could-have and should-haves. I think I am going a bit insane!


So today was week 1, day 1 of C25K. It went pretty well! A while ago I had DLed the app to my phone so I don't have to worry about timing myself or judging distance, and let me tell you, by the end I was feeling a little like punching the robot lady who kept saying in her too-cheerful voice "Time to run!", but then I looked at my overall time and realized I was almost done. We'll see how day 2 goes...because I'm sure I'll be sore...and the robot lady may take some damage :)

Blah

Stuck in a waiting room with a baby for the past hour.
Hope I get called soon.

I miss Ari.

Also

In posting about being "normal," I'm not talking about being Mrs. Dutch Mom in Holland with my minivan and Holland Christian High School stickers plastered onto everything I own. I received some comments after Ariana died that "You know you don't really want to be normal, don't you? Normal is overrated."

That's not really the point. I don't want to be "normal" as in, assimilated into society and just like everyone else. I want OUR normal back, as in, with both of our children and freaking out about stupid stuff like whether or not Ryan did the dishes on his night or why I didn't wash the floors on my day off.

I actually would have thought that some of these people would have understood, having gone through losses themselves. None that had lost children made statements like that.

Anyway. Just wanted to get that off my chest. I'm not interested in being like every other cookie cutter wife/mom/lady out there. I just want my life back.

Now that we've cleared that up, back to your regular programming:


Tanner is growing up so quickly! We've nixed night time pull-ups AND naps. I almost can't stand it. He's doing pretty great with his writing and making progress on his reading, too. I don't know what we are going to do with 2 years left til he can start school. He won't be able to start kindergarten (legally) until 2013. ....looks like my hands are going to be full! Also, not to beat a dead horse, but this child and cider donuts. Heaven help us if he discovers there is a Crane's IN Holland.

Complainy post about etiquette

I was under the impression that unless it has been quite some time since your last child, you don't really expect a baby shower for your second, third, fourth etc. children, unless someone really wants to throw you one.

I was also under the impression that you really don't throw yourself a baby/bridal/wedding shower.


Recently I was invited to a baby shower for a friend with whom we haven't really kept in touch. She and her husband are having their second child soon, and she is throwing herself a shower and asking for people to bring diapers along with a gift. (Their child is almost 2, I believe). Which is a third point in my hypocritical etiquette schtick: are not showers supposed to be for close friends and family? Not people you haven't spoken to in over two years aside from the occasional Facebook post?


Now, all of the above being a little bit tacky aside, I'm kind of surprised that I was invited. I think it's nice that I was invited, and I don't think it's a case of getting it rubbed in that all these people have babies, but most of the invitees have young babies/children, and I really don't need to go around fertile people who have living children. It's not that I want people to ignore me (and yes I want to be treated the way I was before!), it's just that it's a little soon to be going to baby showers. Family gatherings are hard enough.

I realize this is a contradiction from my last post so feel free to kick me in the throat next time you see me. I do want to be treated normally. I just am not going to willingly surround myself by babies right now when I can't hold my own, especially when it is for someone who I barely know anymore and is just phishing for gifts and free stuff. So there, pbbbbt.




In other news, we went to Crane's yesterday, and despite my urging Ryan to buy two dozen cider donuts, he only bought one, and I am having to show extreme restraint so that there are some left for him when he gets home. Tanner and I are just fools for cider donuts.

Birthdays, Holidays, Bullshit

Not that there is any one "worst" thing, and I'm hoping as years pass this gets more bearable, but...special events are such a mixed bag for us. When we have birthday parties or holidays, all I can think is, "This time last year, I was this far along with Ariana" or, "When we had this occasion last year, Ari was doing [this or that]." Or I think of what she would be doing if she were here. We went to a birthday party at a bowling alley for one of Tanner's friends this weekend, and (Mostly) all I could think about was what Ari would have been doing. To complicate matters further, the family of the boy whose birthday it was also had an Ariana, who also died of unknown causes, about six months prior to our Ari's death. So I was daydreaming about the two Arianas running around together and making mayhem among the older kids.


We have been putting off going to Crane's because last year we took both kids. Ariana was barely sensate that day; she spent the entire time cuddling and nursing in her carrier. But she was there. And I am just tired of going places where I think, "Last time we were here, we had Ari!" If I could crawl in a hole, hibernate, and not hurt anymore when I woke up, I would so surely do it.

And it's not a situation where I don't enjoy myself immensely still. I love hanging out with family and friends and I laugh and tell stupid stories and generally make an ass of myself as per the usual. It just makes me feel a bit awkward because inevitably there is a moment where I get fixated on her, and that makes others awkward when they notice. And I wish they'd just ignore it. But I really think, in retrospect, no matter how much you empathize, you just can't understand unless you've been through it, no matter how much you want to be able to sympathize. And I wouldn't want anyone to understand. I don't think others realize how desperately we just want to feel NORMAL again. I think it scares people away. We've certainly learned who our true friends are. We don't spend our days in melancholia and we don't spend our time crying all over each other. We do have times when we have to be by ourselves to grieve. We also need for people to more or less carry on if we have a sad feeling while we're out and about. Don't give us funny looks, or stop the conversation, or try to shift gears into grief and death and dying. There are places and times for that, and out with friends socializing isn't one of them, and you have to know that we realize that.

I feel like a pariah again. It makes me almost afraid to go do anything, large group or small. And it's not like we could put out a personal ad requesting only friends who have lost children. And even that isn't a surefire route to society without awkwardness.


But yeah. Nice cozy hole to hibernate in. That would be nice. That or my baby. And seeing as how neither of those are an option, I guess I'll just keep on walking. Bummer.

Ugh...

Despite the title of the post, today was actually a superlative day. I have only three complaints:
1.) The lady who tried to run a 4-way stop sign and then proceeded to call me vulgar names out her window because I started to go when I had the right of way. Oh the things I wanted to say to her...
2.) I have a headache.
3.) For some reason out of the blue I really started missing Ariana this evening. Today was a good day...probably close to a 7 or 8 out of 10! Back down to a 5 tonight...I miss my cuddlebug!


But really...can't complain too much when it's 80 out in October. Nicenicenicenicenice.

Also did you know that monarch butterflies are toxic? I told all y'all all along. Dangerous things. Butterflies. Very dangerous.

New goal

So, my 5-year reunion from Hope is this month. Seeing as how I don't think I'm going to make it (even though it's just at the Brewery), I have a new goal. Our 10-year reunion from high school will be next year, and I want to lose 25 pounds by then. I think that is doable. We'll see!

Every Time!!

It never fails that when I go to Meijer I will A) Forget something and B) If I'm buying something questionable or embarrassing, I will run into someone I know.

A) We live 1/4 mile from Meijer, so that's no big deal - we can stop on our way in and out.
B) Example 1: Had to buy pads the other day (sorry if any dudes are reading this). Tanner wanted to know what they were.  I said they were private for ladies.  This apparently meant to Tanner that he should hold the package on top of his head and sing at the top of his lungs, "I'M A LADY, I'M A LADY, HEE HEE HEE!!!"....I couldn't get out of the store fast enough, because I couldn't get him to stop. 
Example 2: The GIANT package of toilet paper was on sale today. We normally don't buy the giant one but today I did, because it was such a great deal!!  I knew that I would see someone I knew, and I knew I'd be embarrassed because why would a family of three need THAT MUCH toilet paper!??  I mean, we are talking Sams' Club value pack size here.  And of course, I ran into our next door neighbor. 
Example 3: (This probably only applies in Holland). One time we were having a get-together at our house, so Ryan and I bought a bunch of adult libations.  I mean, the bottom of the cart was probably full of booze. This was perfect timing to run into our pastoral care elder, who gave us a funny look, but said nothing. 




I'd say if these are the worst of my problems we are coming out on top ;)

Guilt

Besides the guilt of:
1.) Not knowing anything was wrong in the days and weeks leading up to Ariana's death,
2.) Not being able to save her when I was the adult in the house, and I was supposed to make sure the kids were okay,
3.) Feeling like I let everyone down because of #2,
4.) Wondering if anything I ever did could have contributed to Ariana's death,
there's also
5.) Guilt when I resent seeing other people's happy little families (even though I don't really begrudge them their happiness, I just miss our complete little family)
6.) Guilt when I catch myself thinking how dull and stupid other children are in comparison to Ariana,
7.) Guilt when I wonder why us and not someone else (even though I'd not wish this on my worst enemy)
8.) Guilt for feeling guilty and not feeling good every day just because I'm alive which of course leads to
9.) Guilt that I want to slap people who say "Count your blessings" because
10.) SCREW YOU, I HAVE PLENTY OF BLESSINGS BUT I ALSO HAVE A BABY WHO WENT TO HEAVEN BEFORE ME, WHAT THE HELL DO YOU KNOW ABOUT ANYTHING?!?! which then leads to
11.) Guilt because I get angry at well-meaning people for being blockheads.



And then there are good days.  Which are always followed by bad days in which I feel guilty for having a good day.

Among other things.

2011....SUCKS.

Man, I (and my little family here) could REALLY do with something nice happening to us sometime soon.  So much has gone wrong this year, and so much continues to go wrong...I don't know what to do with myself most of the time. 

Why doesn't life come with a rewind button?  

And with that, some lyrics:

Less Than Jake: Motown Never Sounded So Good

So you say, all your white flags are up and that you've had enough and that you were tired of collecting dust, you say everything always looks the same and you made your brand new face to match your brand new place, you say all your distress calls have gone out and your ship is going down...Well I say it to myself all the time, "Stop living half a life and stop feeling like I'm half alive.."

I can't get enough, I'm not satisfied, I've wasted my time with this daily grind, in single file line, is this real life, I've been telling myself sometimes, what matters is on the inside.

Do you remember when we had all the answers, and can you really remember when we wished for anything better, just to feel like it's been forever, does it feel like a broken record, a head full of yesterdays, you keep wishing your life away, you can't keep looking over you own shoulder, things'll never look up unless you start to move forward.

I can't get enough, I'm not satisfied, I've wasted my time with this daily grind, I can't get enough, I'm just getting by, I can't stand this design for our bitter lives, I keep feeling lost and I'm not satisfied with traffic and turnpikes and these tired eyes.

Anybody seen my girl?

When Ariana was born we had several cousins pregnant at the same time as us.  (Five or six I think, off the top of my head.  As a matter of fact, Ari's closest cousin in age is 6 days older than she is!) So for one of the cousins who had a girl, we decided to pass down Ari's clothes to her since she's a single mom and clothes are expensive...and her baby was a couple months younger.  ANNNYWAY.  Long story short, we gave the clothes to Ryan's folks' to bring to the cousin's folks to give to her, but somehow or another they never ended up there. We decided to bring them home on the off chance that we have another girl at some point in our lives. ...And we gave all our boy clothes away when we found out we were having Ariana.

Anyway I picked through the bag of clothes tonight. Lots of memories.  You'd be surprised what emotions such a little piece of fabric can evoke. I miss my girl so much I can almost feel her. It is so incredibly hard to know that I am never (on this earth at least) going to kiss her or hold her or feel her come to me for a hug, or to be picked up, or to be snuggled. I'm never going to hear her say "I love you" or even "I hate you!" and it's just so damn unfair. It's an absolute travesty that all I have left, physically, are some pieces of clothing, a stuffed animal or two, some blankets.

I would give anything for just one more snuggle. If I'd have known this was going to happen, I never would have stopped hugging her. If I'd have known how hard this all is, I never would have let go.

I miss our girl so much.  Every day I wake up thinking maybe somehow the world has rewound itself to when we were a whole family.


....


Every day I get kicked in the gut when I realize I'm really awake, and nothing has changed.



I don't know how people live satisfying lives after they lose a child. I don't know how you are supposed to wake up every morning with this kind of crippling pain. I hope I figure it out soon...

Bad person

Some days I really resent it when people have exciting milestones with their kids.  I know it's terrible of me, and in no way do I expect people's lives to end or for them to censor what they say around me (or on Facebook for goodness' sake). Of course it's exciting when your kid does something new and cool and I'm totally on board with bragging more about our kids.....it's just that......I don't get to brag about Ariana anymore.

I don't even get to SEE Ariana anymore.
I don't even get to get annoyed with Ariana being needy anymore, much less have her doing something absolutely precociously, preciously darling that I can blab all over Facebook or my blog or my family website or anything like that.

So long story short, I am a terrible person because some days I hate people who have normal happy lives...you know, people who haven't joined the "My Kid Went to Heaven Before Me" club.  I always thought life was hard but bearable and that no matter what happened if we worked hard and tried to make informed and responsible decisions, we'd at least break even. Emotionally. Financially.

Boy was I wrong. I knew infant CPR. I knew what to do. I knew to call 911. I did the right things, and I am 99.9999% sure I did them correctly. But it didn't help. So even though I did the right things in the right way, I still have to move on with a life devoid of an Ariana Noelle. In the meantime there are moms putting their infants in microwaves and ovens who sit free on million-dollar bonds waiting for a trial that is years down the road. And probably not being traumatized nearly as much by the so-called "investigations" into their child's death as I was...."prime suspect" my ass.

Piss piss, moan moan.

Ob la di, ob la da

I had something stunning to write here.  But I'm going to leave it at:

If you own a dog, and you walk your dog in any neighborhood, and you bring a bag along to pick up your dog's leavings, and you actually DO pick up your dog's leavings, why in the world would you pick them up in the bag, and then LEAVE the bag in your neighbor's yard????

This has been happening in our neighborhood for about a year now, and while I think I've pinpointed the vile person/people who do this...I am unsure.  At least unsure enough not to go after them.  But if I can ever prove it....

suffice it to say there are not cleaning supplies strong enough for what I will do to your stoop.  You have been warned.

"I don't want to hear you say, 'Nobody can take her place'"

Well, we celebrated Ariana's first birthday last week Thursday, and had a party for her on Friday evening.  I was stunned by how many people called, left Facebook messages, sent cards, and showed up for the party!  That little girl was so incredibly loved that I often struggle with why God said it was okay for her to go home.  She is SO. FREAKING. LOVED.  down here.  So why take her?  It's not like we were cooking meth in the house and pushing her around....like some people...who get to keep their children....But whatever, not going to go there.

Seems like we've been feeling a little bit better since we celebrated her birthday.  Not that I don't think I'm not going to have bad days still, but...better.

Below I've uploaded Ari's birthday video to youtube in three parts.  I also have a vid of us releasing her lantern at the cemetery which I'll add pretty soon. 

Birthday memorial vid part 1:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlUUNIu44ns
Birthday memorial vid part 2:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TdYXxUCEX48
Birthday memorial vid part 3:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-cvSm157dDE


EDIT: Part 3 is not viewable due to copyright on Bob Marley.  Phoo.  If you want it, I can send it via snail mail.  :)

Kids...

Say the Darndest things.

At the family reunion for Ryan's mom's side of the family, Ryan and I took T to swing, and our cousin's daughter (about 10 or 11 years old) came to the playground with us.  After a few moments of conversation, I said, "Man, this makes me dizzy.  I must be getting old." She says, "You aren't that old, you're only in your thirties!!"


......


I said, "Lighten up girl, I am only 25!!" and she didn't believe me!!!!!! 
...Anxiety attack about looking way older than I am.....Maybe it's the extra weight I've been carrying?  I need to get some fresh fruits into the house for snacks instead of cheeto's, I guess.

God is good, all the time...

Has anyone been following the news on Lt. Gov. Calley's baby girl?  She was born with a heart defect, and underwent surgery as an infant to correct some problems.

Went in last week (or the week before, can't remember) for a heart cath...and had THREE heart attacks.  This is a child under the age of 2!  Anyway, by the grace of God, she was able to pull through and is now back at home, recovering, after coming very very close to that line we can't cross.

And I'm so so happy that this family had this blessing.  God is so good.  But the really bad bad part of me says, why them?  Why not us?  Are we not good enough?  Didn't we love her enough?  Didn't we take good care of her?  Why do they get to keep their little girl?

For the record, I know it's not a give and take barter situation.  And for the record, I don't wish that ANYONE would lose a child.  And on that note, I think it is absolutely amazing that the doctors and this family have witnessed//brought about a miracle.  I just wish we would have been granted one, too.

poop bugs.

Two months ago we were sitting at our dining room table poring over pictures with Ari's godparents. 

I am trying really hard not to dwell on this, but it's impossible not to, especially with her birthday coming up next week. 

Still smiling.  Laughingcryingsmilingyellinghappysad. 




Some days, it is just so hard to try.

Procrastination?

Normally when we go to Ryan's folks' place for weekends/holidays, I keep dirty clothes in a completely separate bag from where the clean stuff is packed and throw that bag straight into the laundry machine when we get home. 

Our suitcase is still sitting on the floor, waiting to be unpacked, from Memorial Day weekend.  We've put Ari's clothes from around the house away, temporarily, but we can't seem to get to unpacking the suitcase.  I did pull out most of Tanner's stuff, but there are perfectly serviceable clothes of ours in there that we just aren't touching.

And there's at least one dirty item.  It's the only thing we have of Ariana that still smells like her.  It's the hoodie that she wore for about 15 minutes on the Sunday night before Memorial Day after her bath.  And it still smells like her.  So we pull that out ever so often, and then put it back in its place in the suitcase, on the "girl side" (as T calls it), and underneath a couple of Daddy's shirts that got shifted around in the melee following her death.

I really want to unpack that suitcase.  It's been two months.  I just can't seem to drag myself to do it.  We have plaster casts of her feet and one of her hands that one of the pediatric nurses helped make for us after Ariana's death.  Sometimes, stupid as it sounds, I hold her hand and her hoodie.  It almost feels like she's home.  Almost.

Yep. 

We are quickly approaching a string of first birthdays.  Scratch that, the first one was yesterday.  A number of girlfriends from high school/college/life had  babies right around the same time as Ariana.  I bet there are probably a dozen acquaintances/friends with ~1 year old babies.  Mostly girls, I do believe.  I thought it would be really terrible but it turns out I can imagine Ari's first birthday party.  Which of course we are still going to have.  Just without presents, and without a cake and frosting covered baby. 

As Tanner would so succinctly say...

Poop.

Always expect the unexpected...

Tonight we had to make a late run to Meijer for some essentials.  While there, Ryan and I spotted an absolutely darling outfit for a baby girl (red checked belted rain jacket with a white t-shirt (red bow on the collar!) and blue jeans with red hearts embroidered on the legs).  Ariana would have looked absolutely gorgeous in it.  Somehow, all we could do is laugh as we imagined our baby wearing the outfit.  Felt pretty good.

Recently we received back what we think is everything that was taken for the police investigation into Ariana's death.  I thought I'd never want to see the blanket that we were sleeping with that day ever again, much less sleep with it.  Tonight I can't sleep, but I just pulled "our" blanket out.  Ari and I spent so much time on, under, with this comforter.  It feels good, kind of like I've got a bit of her with me.  It smells a little bit like spit up.  Which is alternately really gross and rather comforting. :)

Things to (un)remember

I'm not forgetting anything.  I'm trying not to obsess over anything.  But it really bothers me how much I can almost remember.

I almost remember the way she smells.  I can just about feel the weight of her in my arms.  I come so close to remembering how soft her hair is when I kiss it.  I can almost remember the feel of her raspberries on my stomach and arms.  But it's not like it was, it's not really fully there, and I know that it will fade even more.  I know I won't ever forget, but the memory won't ever be fully satisfying.

I'm glad I can't remember the way she looked when I found her.  I thought that would be with me for the rest of my life, but I can't really remember.  It's all a haze.   And believe me, I've tried.  I can't remember how she felt in the hospital, I can only barely remember wanting them to take the intubation out while I held her.  I can't remember the stale smell of the funeral home.

But I remember all too clearly the weight of the coffin in our hands.  I remember how cold she was at the home.  All I want is to keep on remembering my girl, but all I can remember all the way is the most recent stuff.  The stuff I'd rather just forget.  And every night I go to sleep and I forget.  Unless I dream about it.  And then I wake up.  And every time I wake up I remember that she's gone.  Spiritually I'm perfectly fine with her being in Heaven because I know that I will be with Ariana again, but physically I'm sick with wanting her.



Tonight, I put on my robe for the first time since the day Ariana died.  It smells like spit up.  I never thought I'd be so grateful for such a gross smell.  But it was kind of like a hug.



I'm not forgetting, little one.  I'd just like a little nudge like this here and there so that I can block out remembering the other things.

One month

In many ways, the death of Ariana has been a gross parody of her birth - so many "first"s to go through, so many landmarks to hit.  How excited we were when she was a month old!  Today, she's been in Heaven for a month.  I am trying to imagine, with my limited mind, all of the wonderful things she has gotten to experience that we can't even comprehend.  I'm even a bit envious as I think of her cuddling up in Jesus' lap, reading stories with all of her great-grandmothers, playing with all the other little children who have been gathered up before and since.  I'd like to think that she looks down from time to time to check in on us, but maybe it's just like a blink of an eye to her before we get there.  I don't know.  My theology is not the greatest.  My understanding of Heaven is not the greatest.  I just believe that someday, I will get to go there, and it will be the greatest gift I've ever been given.

Ariana never got to celebrate the Fourth of July.  She was still in my belly (and we were uncomfortably sweltering last Fourth...)  I'd imagine she'd love having little nibbles of homemade ice cream at the lake, and watching the "pretty lights" (which is what T used to call fireworks).  I think she'd be sitting in her walker at the campfire with us, noshing on some graham crackers while the rest of us cracked cold beer and sodas and watched night settle on the lake.  It's comforting that she did get to have her first bonfire at the lake the weekend before her death, because it makes it easier to envision her with us now.  At the same time, I don't want to dissolve my life into "what would have been" because I think that would become too consuming.  It's enough to know that in her short little life, she tasted so many different things, and that now in her eternal life, she is experiencing the full run of real life.

This weekend we plan to go to the lake, as usual.  I am hoping to share memories of my little girl (as always), play with my boys, make a million new memories of family and friends.  We also have a picnic with my mom's side of the family, and I'm looking very forward to that.

Hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday weekend.  I'm planning to catch 642 fish.

Missing our girl...

There are absolutely no good days.  There have not been any good days since the morning of May 31. 

There are just degrees of sadness and badness.  Some hours a little less, some hours a lot more. 

I wish I could swallow every time I ever said "This is so unfair."  Because THIS is what is unfair.

Spaghetti, 11 p.m.

I'm never going to sleep after carbo-loaded dinner and then carbo-loaded late night snack...but leftover spaghetti is so good (especially if it's deep-fried, which this was not, and especially if deep-fried on a bun, which also, obviously, this was not).

But sleep patterns are all wonky over here at Casa Reynolds anyway.  The thing that I potentially feel worst about is how everything that has happened is affecting Tanner.  We will be attending a bereavement service for children (and parents) starting next week, and it can't be soon enough.  The poor kid finally got used to not having our undivided attention, and now I feel like most of the time I'm dying of thirst and Tanner is a cold glass of water.  I can't begin to imagine the confusion he feels when I know he understands what has happened in our family but can't necessarily verbalize what he is feeling.  Or, he can verbalize what he's feeling, but he chooses not to (to protect us? to protect himself?)  And I think he feels guilty for not crying constantly.  When he does cry, it looks and sounds as though it physically hurts him (why should I be surprised? It physically hurts me when I let myself cry about her).  Tanner used to have night terrors.  They were frustrating, but it was generally all right in the end, because he wouldn't remember them in the morning.  Now he has nightmares.  Some nights he screams, cries, kicks, and the only intelligible thing he says is, "Ari."  I am hoping the nightmares are simply missing her and fear of the unknown, but I suspect that the nightmares stem from everything he has seen - the discovery, the CPR, the 911 call, the EMTs, the ER. 

It's so frustrating to not be able to do more than tap the surface of his grief and comfort him as best as we are able.  Sometimes he wants to know why we can't just go to Heaven to be with Jesus and Ari (and Great-Grandmas and Great-Grandpas).  But I don't have an answer for that either.  I'd kind of like to just go to Heaven and be with my family and God, too.  But there is so much more in this big big world that I want to experience, and want to experience it as a human - all the high mountains and all the deep rivers and everything in between - literally and metaphorically.  And now I have to enjoy it all the more, for Ariana.

Despite it all, I am so proud of my little man.  Tonight we had a major meltdown that involved a 1 hour + temper tantrum.  We are trying to balance our empathy for his confusion and sorrow with the knowledge that we still have to direct him and teach him to be a good person.  And I thought being a good parent was hard before!  Thankfully, Ryan is here with me.  When I am down, he is strong for us.  When he is down, I try my damndest to be strong for them.  This grieving process is so freaking foreign.  I am back to  a semi-regular work schedule, but things seem so quiet and plodding.  I dread being alone in the quiet.  When I'm alone, the isolation serves nothing but to increase a sense of anger - not at God, or anything tangible - just at the sheer absurdity of the situation.  Why Ariana?  Why not me instead?  I'd trade me for her in a heartbeat.  Why couldn't something terrible have happened in a way that perhaps would have caused me pain, but spared the rest of the family and our loved ones feeling this?  I'm still unsure if I can ever be at peace with this.  I know time will allow scar tissue to form over this big ball of painful goo that is sitting in my gut, but I don't know if I want that.  At the same time, I don't want to feel this way forever. 

And so it goes.  The same old thoughts in the same red hot groove, over and over and over again.  (And I thought my humdrum routine was terrible before!)  Don't get me wrong.  I'm still happy, in whatever ways I can be.  I still smile, I still laugh.  I still love my entire family just as much as before, more than before.  I still love Jesus, I still love God, just as much if not more than before.  I'm still the same old me.  Just with part of me ripped out and dragging behind me. 

Except I keep gathering it up in my arms and stuffing it back in where it belongs.  Because that's where Ari belongs.  Close to my heart, just like always.  (Always).  Hopefully, eventually, it will stop spilling out quite so prolifically.  Because really.  This is just a gross metaphor. 

In other news, Tanner is going to see the dentist for the first time tomorrow.  I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty excited about it.  Not in a sadistic way.  Just excited for another growing up milestone for my big handsome boy.  Also, tomorrow is Tanner's half-birthday.  How is he halfway to FOUR?!?!  This is insane.  In many ways I feel like that gauche, inexperienced, socially inept girl I've always been deep down inside...except Ryan, Tanner, and Ari have pushed me to grow so far that a lot of the time, I laugh that I was ever that insecure or that needy.  What a long, strange trip it's been. 

On that note.  Time for some tunes, and then bed.  I bet I'll have some strangey-strange dreams with a belly full of spaghetti!

I want to know

I want to know why I am not going to watch Ari ride her first tricycle, have dance recitals, start her first day of school, graduate from preschool, from lower elementary, from upper elementary, from middle school, from high school, Dutch Dance, move out for college or life or whatever, meet a great guy, meet a crappy guy, meet the greatest guy.

I want to know why I am not going to watch her walk down the aisle on Ryan's arm, dance with him at her wedding, hold her first baby, hold her next bazillion babies.

I want to know why I am not going to get to hold or see my baby for the rest of my life here on earth.  I want to know WHY I am eating every time I've said "this is the worst day of my life" because I am having a series of progressively worse worst days for the past 16 days.  I want to know why administering CPR wasn't enough.  I want to know why the EMTs' skills couldn't save her.  I want to know why the doctors at the hospital couldn't save her.  I want to know what happened to my baby; I want to know why she died. 

I don't get to know WHY God let this happen.  Most days I can at least come to terms with the fact that someday I will know.  And maybe I don't get to know because I couldn't accept it.  And let's face it, His grace IS sufficient.  We have been so blessed to see God's people at work in the world in the midst of this tragedy.  It's a good reminder when there's all bad on the news.  But I'd rather have gone through life thinking that people were nasty and crude, and still holding Ariana.

I want to know when it is going to stop killing me to see other babies and other pregnant ladies.  I want to know when waking up isn't going to be a slap in the face anymore, when Tanner will be able to cope emotionally enough that I don't have to worry about him, I want to know when I'm going to see Ryan really smile again.  I want to know when I'll stop thinking that maybe if I think about it hard enough I'll figure it all out.  I want to know when I will stop trying to convince myself that this is a terrible nightmare and I might wake up soon.  I want to know when I am going to be able to peel myself up off the ground again.  Mostly I want to know when I get to see my baby girl again.  Because it's just not soon enough. 

But, to quote the words from an immortal song: "I know everything sucks yeah, I know everything sucks.  I know everything sucks but this is the last time you'll hear me complain."  (at least here)

Now Playing: Bob Marley, "Three Little Birds" (Ari's Favorite)

Night time is the worst time for me.  I am usually the last person up and about, doing little chores here and there and then settling down for a heroic dungeon or two.  Then, Ariana had recently been waking up at ungodly hours of the AM wanting to play...which was really cute but also more than a little frustrating.  She didn't really want to eat, she just didn't want to be asleep anymore! (Although I've read that that is the natural sleep cycle, and that our modern world has totally screwed that up - ask me about it sometime if you're interested).  Plus Ryan and T usually fall asleep together.  That left me and Ari.  And if she was awake, you can guarantee I was probably talking to her.  It's not that I didn't talk to myself before she was born, because I did, but now I feel really super crazy doing it.  Because Ariana isn't here to listen and coo back at me.  I mean, Steve wants me all the time now (he knows she isn't here and I think it's screwing with his head), but Steve, sorry man, you are NOT an acceptable substitute.  For one thing, Ariana didn't shed all over me.  She did make a point of pulling MY hair out, but that is a little different.  Ryan seems to have a harder time in the AM.  On the weekends he almost always got up with the kids to give me a break from the morning routine a bit.  So with each day feeling like a weekend since we've been off work, this has been really strange.  We are simultaneously looking forward to and dreading going back to work on Monday.  I think I will be Okay, but who knows?  Ari was the best assistant I could have asked for.  She was an awesome paper shredder, poop maker, and lap warmer.  Man.  She was even learning how to make Grandpa's coffee.  ...

My heart is broken...but watching Tanner laugh and play, and yes, laughing along with him, makes all the difference in the world.

Somehow my boys and I will get through this.  I'm still not sure how, because I vacillate between rage and fits of crying and giggling at videos and photos....but somehow we will do this thing.  And we will remember Ari, and honor her memory.  And somehow, we will do something great in her name, because that's what she would have done.  That girl was the best out of all of us - so smart, so beautiful, and so loving, among so many other things.  We could show her a baby sign, and she'd be using it correctly and consistently within half a day.

Hey Baby Girl...Momma and Daddy are gonna do big things, so if you could see fit to give us a hand or put in a good word with the Big Man every so often, we'd really appreciate it.


I don't know how people survive losing a child, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy, but I am going to pass through this.


Somehow.

Suckiest Club Ever

It has been over a week since we lost Ariana.  In some ways it seems like she's been gone forever, and in others I wonder why she hasn't crawled around the corner and started bugging for attention yet.  Everyone has been so incredibly supportive and sympathetic and for that I thank all of you.

Then there are others who want in on the action or the attention, I don't know which, but let me tell you, this is the one club you don't ever want to be a part of.  It's called "My Child Went to Heaven Before Me" and it is the suckiest club ever.  We have ups and downs.  We are able to smile and laugh and play with Tanner (some times it takes more effort than others).  We also hold each other and cry.  8 days ago we had everything - my facebook status even read "Can't Complain."  The next day...life hit as hard as an a-bomb.  It seems almost disrespectful to continue planning and hoping for our future when Ari's future here on earth has ended.  But then I remember where she is, and that someday we will join her there.  So I guess I'm categorizing life as our everyday hopes, and our ultimate hope.  Ari is already there at the ultimate hope, and with all that she has, she has no need of our everyday ones.  That makes it a little easier.  A little.

There are so many thoughts swirling through my head each minute of every day.  Tonight we took T for ice cream and there was this little blonde boy running around, and it just punched me in the gut.  Yesterday I told Ryan that I was so looking forward to seeing Ari begin to walk, and run, and fall down, and get up and run again.  That's exactly what this boy was doing.  He was working his chubby little arms and legs as hard as he could, and he'd fall down and laugh so hard, and get back up and run again.  Man.  That was a blow. 

Out of all the things I have done in my life, the only thing I've ever really given ALL of myself to, and then some, is being a mom.  It's the one thing I've been "best" at out of all my other endeavors, and it is my favorite, and it is the one thing that I am good at (not perfect, by any means, and daily I feel I've made mistakes - mostly small peccadilloes, but still good at).  So it shakes me to think that I wasn't good enough to save Ari.  God decided it was time for her to come home, so despite my efforts, the EMTs' efforts, the doctors' efforts, and all our prayers, there was nothing else to be done but let her go.  But what if?  I know the could have would have should haves will drag me down.  But it's hard not to indulge them. 

Someday the ubiquitous question of "WHY?!?" will be answered.  At that point, it won't matter a damn.  But at least at this point I am able to thank God for taking care of our baby instead of crying out to Him and feeling like there is no answer.

Tragedy

For those of you who may not have heard, yesterday we very unexpectedly lost our baby Ariana.  She was almost 10 months old. 

Visitation will be held at Dykstra Mulder Funeral Chapel on Friday evening from 6 p.m. - 8 p.m. and the funeral will be at the same on Saturday morning at 11 a.m. with graveside services following at Pilgrim Home Cemetery. 

Adventures in the Life of a (Work-from-home) Mom

There are a lot of things your doctors and parents don't tell you about being a parent.  Some of it involves nuances to the obvious: who knew that babies' first poop resembles roofing tar on a summer day?  Who knew that breastfeeding isn't necessarily the easiest thing in the world, and that it doesn't necessarily come naturally?  Who knew that labor (in my case at least) would be an absolute cinch?  Who knew that cuddling a baby is one of the best feelings in the world?  I sure didn't know any of those things.

There are other things that you don't even imagine, it's not even nuance and shades of grey.  Currently my schedule involves working 3 half days a week while my 3-year-old son is at day-care.  One or two of those mornings, I take my almost 9-month-old daughter to my mom's house.  At noon, I pack up and go on home to continue working from there.  Some days it's easy: the baby naps until it is time to go pick up her brother, and work is slow.  Other days, fifty people need a hundred things, the baby screams for hours on end, and I wonder briefly if the return period has expired on my kids.

The other two days of the work week, I work from home entirely.  I have both the 3-year-old and the 9-month-old with me.  This is okay on the aforementioned slow days.  We play in the kids' bedroom, or downstairs, or bake rolls or cookies and I step away to my computer as needed.  On any given weekday, I may have to wait until the kids go to bed and my household chores are done to go back to my work and finish it up.  This is okay.  But on the busy days, or the days that I have time-sensitive projects to work on, it seems that something always comes up.

Cue the video tape up to today folks, because here is something you never imagined would happen as a parent.  To all of you with children, new babies, thinking about children....here's the real gory truth about working from home.  (Which is an ENORMOUS blessing, it just requires a lot more flexibility than I had previously assumed I possess)

This morning started out like many other mornings.  Ryan left for work at quarter after six, leaving Tanner with a small bowl of cereal to tide him over til breakfast time.  I got up about 10 minutes later, and turned on Tanner's morning cartoon that he is allowed.  So far, so good.  Fast forward about an hour and a half later and the baby, struggling with two new teeth about to erupt and newly discovered allergies, got whiny, so I decided to put her to sleep out on the couch.  At which point her brother decided to start with the day's rambunctiousness.  Half an hour later, she was asleep, and I wanted a shower.  Okay.  Bring the big kid with me, is my thought.  After getting out of the shower, Tanner needs to poop.  He's still using a diaper to poop in, which is totally fine by me as long as he's pooping.  So I throw my underwear on, run into his bedroom, grab a pull-up, and he is good.

This is where the fun starts.  The baby wakes and starts coughing and crying.  I decide to feed her breakfast and work on one of my projects for work while I do so.  This works remarkably well!  Feed baby a bite, talk to her, work on a line item.  Rinse, repeat.

Then I hear Tanner - "Mom, I need some help wiping!" which means that he's sitting on his floor, diaper still on, and wants me to change him like a baby.  (New development I think is due to jealousy of attention to the baby).  I mark my place in my work, stand up, turn to walk to the bedrooms....and hear the sound of retching coming from behind me.  Ariana is vomiting all over herself, her high chair, and the floor.  My suspicion is the drainage from her allergies has caused this massive rejection of mucus from her stomach.  Gross.  So crisis management mode kicks in: first, strip baby of clothes, second, deal with brother.  Okay. Okay.

Okay.  Get baby stripped to a onesie and diaper, and turn to deal with Tanner.  Get him almost done, and I hear all kinds of flatulence coming from the floor level.  Turn to Ariana, and realize that probably more poop escaped the top of the diaper than stayed inside.  Tanner starts crying.  I turn, and he has rolled over on his bed into the poopy diaper.  His pants are now poop-stained...on the outside.  Grab his pants, throw them in the dirty laundry.  Grab the baby, strip her down, do a quick wipe, help Tanner find new pants.

Oh. My. Goodness.  I finally got the kids all settled, picked up the baby and steered Tanner out to the living areas so I can clean up the puke....and the cat is sitting in it.  Well, the cat is due to be groomed this weekend anyway, so no big deal, but....REALLY?!  Are you KIDDING me?!

You would think that these children would have the decency to space this stuff out a little bit.  Apparently, not.  Now they will make up for this later when we get ready for nap or bed time when they smell all sweet from being cleaned up and get all snuggly.  But the main thing I never knew about having (two) kid(s) is: Poop. Pee. Poop. Pee. Vomit. Poop. Sleep. Rinse. Repeat.

Seriously?


Edit: baby is sleeping, Tanner is doing art at his table.  Phew.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

Couple different thoughts here.  Ariana is getting so frakkin'  big.  She's crawling like a champ now, and getting into all of Tanner's stuff.  From the moment I wake up in the morning to the moment the kids go to bed at night, all I hear is, "MOMMY!  Ari is getting into [insert Tanner's toy here]" or "DADDY! Ari's got the [insert inanimate object and/or Steve here]!"  Every day is packed full from beginning to end. 

Ryan went on mancation a couple weeks ago with a couple buddies down to NC to fly fish in the mountains.  I vacillated between happy that he could get some time away, jealous that I wasn't fishing, and exhausted from keeping up with the kids.  Thank goodness he went ahead and got home.  Now we are looking forward to April 30, opening day of trout season, woo hoo!

We bought the kids wooden shoes for Tulip Time and got their names burned into the sides.  Tanner is very excited, and for about a month now we have been hearing all about how he wants to be the drum major when he grows up.  Today on the way to day care, we ran into the Holland Christian marching band practicing.  I thought I was being sly sly sly by parking the car on a side street, but oops, I forgot that side street is part of their route.  So as I was buckling T back into his seat, here comes the band, and they split right down the middle and went past us - right outside Tanner's open car door.  He thought that was really cool.  Speaking of really cool, HCHS has got to have one of the best high school cadences...EVER.  What I'm unsure about is the new kickety skippity hoppity thing they are doing.  Looks a little too much like the Dutch for me.  That and if I had had to do that, I would have fallen flat on my butt, every time.

In other news, last night I had a kind of wake up call about witnessing and what my place as a Christian is in a world that doesn't always mesh with my values.  This is going to sound really strange, but bear with me.  After everyone had finally gone to bed, I ran a Heroic random dungeon in WoW.  Things were going really well, and we had downed Isiset and Ammunae, and were moving on to Setesh.  As we prepared for the pull of the first group, the tank commented that we should "Kill...everything..." and then made a couple "jokes" about how "God won't save you and I don't believe in him anyway!"  Then he pulled.  Now normally when people think that it's funny to joke like that, I ignore them, figuring that they are just random jerks who don't have any respect, and worst of all, are on a long long road that doesn't lead anywhere good.  But, one of the DPS had different ideas.  He didn't join us in the pull, instead saying, "I'm sorry that you don't believe.  But I do, and my God believes in you, and so goodbye, and good luck."  And he dropped group. He didn't make a big old witnessy evangelical show, he didn't make anyone feel like less of a person, he just let the tank know who he was, and that he wasn't going to stand for hearing his God spoken of in such a way.  And you know what?  I have a lot of respect for that silly little death knight.  I wish I had followed him out.  It may seem very trivial, to leave a video game boss over a comment that ultimately doesn't hurt ME at all, but only the person speaking.  But, God calls me to be an example and a witness, and so, Mr. or Miss Death Knight whose name I can't remember, thank you for being my reminder. 

In other news, (yawn), I have paperwork to do, chores that need work, and bills to pay.  /Die.

Blood pressure...rising...

So long time no update.  For Christmas pictures, you'll have to see my Facebook. 


We're recovering from a series of interminable colds, flus, sinus infections, and general malaise, the latest of which was a lovely abscess in Ryan's mouth that he had lanced today (also, the dentist removed three shards of broken wisdom tooth.  This is an injury from before we met, people!)  But, spring is a-comin' even if the mercury is hovering at freezing. 

In the spirit of spring and new beginnings, our kids have made some decisions.  Ari's decision was to start crawling, and to sprout her first tooth (crawling last week Wednesday and tooth yesterday).  Tanner finally gave up his pacifier last night, though we'll see if his resolve lasts through bedtime tonight.  We had been trying with no success to get him to give it up, and had been restricting it to bedtime only, but last night he told Ryan, "I don't need that thingie, I'm not a baby anymore."  Good guy. 

Meanwhile, our new nephew is growing and growing and we will be heading to Ryan's folks' place this weekend in order to visit with Ryan's brother (and his girlfriend and their son) and the parents.  The quilt I had started for the baby before Christmas has been sitting unfinished over the stairway railing for months, needing only binding.  The thing about the binding is that finishing it is all by hand, and I'm a sucker for putting off hand-sewing.  So I'm feverishly finishing it up so that I can give it to Shannon and Casey this weekend.  After that, Ariana's Dutch pattern for Tulip Time is all cut out, and Tanner's from last year fits, other than the pants needing to be let down.  Then, Tanner wants new pajamas, and his baby quilt needs to be re-bound.  Then, I want to start on Ariana's baby quilt, which I'm envisioning as Sunbonnet Sues all around.  So sewing projects abound on the dining room table. 

Ryan and I are gearing up for fishing season.  I got my waders and boots out of storage and looked them over and am anticipating the arrival of my new fishing pack today.  Ryan will be purchasing new waders in time for a trip he is taking to North Carolina in a few weeks to fish with some of his buddies (I am sooo jealous!).  We are tying flies like it's our business and every night I dream of hooking a monster trout - maybe this year will be the year!  Tanner wants to try a fly rod so we are going to let him fiddle around with one up at the lake and see if he can pull some bluegill in on it.  If all else fails, the compost pile teems with worms and his Spiderman pole is all ready with bobber and weight. 

Tanner is busy with his art.  He's reading short words, knows all his letters and numbers by sight, and it practising on and off with writing his letters - what a guy!  I wish his birthday was a month earlier so that he could start preschool with kids his age, but as it is he is in a great daycare in which the lesson plans are nearly identical to what i envisage as an ideal preschool. 

Work is work.  I enjoy my work and I enjoy being a work-at-home mom, but I'm consistently amazed by the lack of motivation by people in all industries - it's like, it'll get done if it gets done, but they don't really care.  Not all, but a great deal.  Sad face.

Other than that, not much is going on.  If you can say that not much is going on when there are two children 3 and under in a home.  Been playing WoW quite a bit and am gearing up for raids if and when my guild finally comes back together.  If not, oh well, at least it's time not spent in the real world. 

Sighh...so many pictures to organize.  Still haven't even done our wedding album yet and here we are 2 years married at the end of the summer.  Well, duty calls.  It's time to start dinner and keep the weeans amused until bedtime.  More later!

Not a real update

So I've yet to do the obligatory Christmas post and we're over halfway through February.  A photo post is in order, but not yet.  Been too busy. 

Kids are in amazing shape, as are we.  Time to start ramping up for spring and summer, and we're getting spoiled with this spate of warm weather. 

Also time to start preparing our fishing gear!!! I can't wait to get back out on the water.


Fin.