Christmas with Gage

To Infinity...and BEYOND!!!

Showing Woody to Uncle Aaron (who is in Iraq)...

learning to hunt with daddy...

Christmas with {Jaxson}

Isn't it amazing?

(this pic at Olivia's grave site was taken with the 12 second timer feature on my camera ... from the hood of our car!)

Isn't it amazing how {hope} can {change} you?

What I {see}

What is the difference between vision and sight? Because if you had asked me that two months ago, I would have told you they are practically the same. Ryan can see. Yep. He's got the vision thing down.

Trust me now; vision and sight are not the same. And I had no idea how wrong I was!

Sight is the ability to see. Sight is what a doctor measures when they ask you to interpret those letters on a line from 20 feet away. The idea is, 20 correct letters at 20 feet away = perfect eye sight. Neat.

Vision is totally different. It's the way the brain senses and anticipates what the eyes take in. It's related more to perception and cognition than retina, rods, and cones. It's where sight meets reading...and math...and football...and the list goes on...and on.
It's where the brain and ultimately the heart, take the eyes over.
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Ryan has been going through a series of treatments to {teach} his eyes to work better as a team; to 'beef' up his vision. He's been faithfully practicing his eye exercises every night and he's showing progress already which is SO very exciting! This vision trick though, it's still tough. It still takes a little while. It's still a struggle.

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But I can't help it. There's a lesson in this. My heart is {tugged}. What is it, God?

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Ryan, sitting at the counter with me opposite him. "Come on, Ryan, don't be a quitter" I say as he gives in to the last exercise. Him resorting to tears, grabbing at his head, "I don't like being like this mom...I don't like my brain not working".

*hand to the chest*

silence.

The honesty in those words stop me in my tracks. Have I taught my son to feel inadequate? Have I instilled a sense of inferiority {already}? And with tender hesitation I remind him that God has made him perfect.
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I can't help but think of my own vision, or lack thereof. And so therein lies the lesson. It's as if God is screaming to me the parallel between Ryan's treatment and my walk with Him.

What can 30 minutes of 'daily training' do for my vision? Not my sight, but my vision? Well, I'm about to find out. And won't you join me?

Be thou my vision, oh Lord (and Ryan's too) :)

Halloween {leaves} Me:

We have a favorite spot I like to take the kids to and photograph them in their costumes every year. I like it because of the leaves. I think Ryan is picking up on my obsession with fall leaves.

Seriously. Have you ever picked one up and REALLY examined it? God's beauty in your hand, I tell you! Last week Ryan came running into my classroom from his recess. I was right in the middle of a math lesson and my door was open for fresh air. Anyway, he ran up to me, handed me a red leaf and said, "Here mom...see you after school...love you!" It was the sweetest thing ever. I love that he noticed something beautiful and then shared it with me.

We had a behavior party a few days ago and one of the activities was a table covered with dozens of fall leaves, some white paper, and watercolors. Beauty.

Jaxson is still exploring his appreciation for leaves and spent most of his time eating them:

This picture is at my mom and dad's place but I couldn't resist the red ones...throw a lil monkey on them and you've got some {pure} cute-ness.

Gage was a long-awaited pumpkin. There was no hesitation whatsoever with his costume. He wanted to be a BIG orange pumpkin. Why? Because, according to him, "I'm THREE". That's reason enough for me!

Ryan, who is {still} obsessed with ANYthing related to flying, wanted to be a pilot. No surprise there :) My grandpa gave JD his old World War II hat, which has been practically glued to his head ever since.

We bought him a real flyer's cap with goggles. JD even spray painted a painter's mask camo and attached a pretty cool (spray painted) balloon for an oxygen mask. When we had his whole outfit put together, he still declined. I think he would have been happy just wearing that hat!

As for me, well, this was my 'costume' this time last year...

...and here we are in the same spot this year. What a difference one year makes, huh?

I think this picture is my new favorite. It's not that it's artistic in any way or even fair-enter-worthy. I just {love} that it captures my little {men} right where they are {today}.

Halloween. Some people love it. Some people hate it.

I love it.

It's not the candy.

It's not the costumes.

I don't get carried away with "spooky" stuff.

Halloween for us, is what {we} as parents, make it.

I love the leaves. I love the symbolism.

Every year, Halloween leaves me feeling grateful. All that beauty surrounding us...all those super-saturated hues...the geometric outlines. If you pick one up, you'll notice the cell circles dying and leaving behind a masterful piece of God's art. He brings before us a canvas with his orange-red-yellow fingerprints all around, even in death.

Those leaves remind me of the blessings we often overlook in our lives. We can kick through them as we walk by or pick up a pile and let them fall around us. Bottom line, we can notice.

Halloween leaves an opportunity for me to watch my boys dream up something to {be} for a moment in time.

Halloween leaves a chance for my boys to practice 'please' and 'thank you' as they go door to door.

It leaves me it total awe of God's handiwork as I look at the beauty He creates even in the dying of nature.

But most of all, Halloween leaves me grateful. Grateful that I have {3} beautiful sons and the man of my dreams to raise them with.

family traditions.

I never went to the pumpkin patch as a kid. Oddly enough, neither did JD. It's weird then, that we've made it our own lil {family} tradition to ride the tractor, pick a pumpkin, and get a hard ice cream cone at Bellinger's (vanilla and bubble gum- funny that it's the same flavors every year).

Ryan's favorite thing about October is "Pumpkin pie".
Gage's favorite is "Sitting on hay, riding a tractor".
My favorite thing about October is watching these boys hit the pumpkin patch!

Gage had literally SLEPT with this pumpkin for the last three days!!!

When the boys snatched up their pick from the patch, we rode the tractor back to the shop. Once we got there, I realized we forgot to get Jaxson one! Ryan ran to the patch and held up this beaut for him:

Welcome {October}. You're sure one of our favorites!

my {family}

my brother, bless his heart, attempted to tackle the impossible this weekend: get a descent picture of my family. it never fails - one person is either laughing, looking away, or stuck with a totally idiotic expression. i'd say he did pretty durn good - thanks kace :)

and if you wanna know the truth, this picture below is probably a little more {real}. it's got a whole lot of {us} allll over it! hahaha...

{that} moment

...when you learn that your child has died. {that} moment is tough to describe.

it's shock.
it's a knife through your heart, up your chin, and out your mouth.
it's disbelief.
it's life-ending, earth-shattering, and horrific.

i'll never forget the doctor saying, "i'm sorry...your daughter has passed away". i can feel the lump in my throat; the sting in my eyes. i can still visualize myself on that table, feeling as though if i kicked my legs hard enough, she might come back. i can still see the fog that hung over my face for months...and years after olivia's death. i can remember every detail of {that} moment and sometimes, if i sit quietly for long enough, i'm right there again. i can taste the fall leaves in the air. i smell the hospital and feel the stainless steel beneathe me. i hear silence of the doppler and wonder how i can still be in a world that no longer holds my most precious treasure.

it's funny how your life can be one thing one minute and then completely different the next. how one {second} your child can be alive and then the next {second} they are not.

they say time heals. it doesn't. it changes, but it doesn't heal.

those smells and tastes, thoughts and feelings- they stay buried until something {familiar} triggers a chain reaction. it's then, in {that} moment when you realize you're 8 years in but still one second out.

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this week, a mother i {know} experienced {that} moment. a tragic farming accident claimed the life of her two year old son. there are no words. there are no quick-fixes or inspiring goals to lay before her. it's hard. it's the hardest thing i've ever had to do....to take one foot and place it in front of the other not knowing what's coming and not wanting the breath i'm taking.

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breathe. take the step because although time doesn't heal, hope does.

a rant.

Dear dude at Macy's last night,

I'm not sure if you're aware of this or not but the family restroom at Macys is intended for just that - families. It's especially intended for families with {young} children - you know the kind, right? You must have enough empathy to understand that a dancing three year old has T-minus four seconds to be stripped of not only his pants, but also his shoes AND socks before there is a puddle on the floor. You know that, right? You also must know what it's like to nurse a baby while sitting on a toilet in an echo-y room with the said three year old singing, to the top of his lungs, his ABCs...you know what that's like, right?

Well then.

I'm just wondering why you felt it necessary to use the family restroom when you didn't have your family in tow. Is it because it's nice? Or is it because it's closer to the escalator? Either way, I don't mind waiting because I've gotten pretty good at distracting little ones long enough to wait our turn.

My beef, however, is this. Next time you use the family bathroom at Macys, could you be so kind as to flush the toilet? Ode to your pee was almost gagable. What's more, could you take the time to lift the toilet seat too? Someone else's pee on the backside of my jeans is not a great look.

Thankyouverymuch,

disgusted.

a {real} American hero.

A {real} American hero sets a tone. He stands proud and others take notice - maybe even enough to walk in his footsteps some day.

a {real} American hero finds the JOY in a child's smile and gentleness in his flag-gripped fingers.

A {real} American hero looks up and answers to the {real} Commander in Chief.

A {real} American hero has a patient heart and watchful spirit.

A {real} American hero has an army of prayer warriors defending him.

I was blessed to watch 100s of {real} American heroes board a bus today on their way to Afghanistan. I watched as they kissed their wives and gently wiped their tears. I watched as they strolled their newborn children and tossed their toddlers into the air. I watch as they bought candies from vending machines and playfully purchased their final "Oregon" meal.

All I could think about was how heroic they {are}. All these men and women are {real} American heroes. Every.single.one. (but the dude in the middle there...third from the right...that's my brother and he's pretty special!!!)

See that blue, Oregon flag? It's practically pointing at Aaron!

These heroes of {ours} are loved. So very, very loved.

These heroes of {ours} will be missed. So very, very much.

I am so proud to stand next to a {real} American hero.

I am so proud to be on a field with countless others.

Thank you for your sacrifice.

Godspeed.

{only} 363 more days.

Ephesians 6:14