Four Words

"God.  Is.  With.  Us."

I have been thinking about those four words a lot lately.  With Christmas only days away, I'm loudly reminded of the day that God stepped out of Heaven to become one of us.  He chose to walk among us and die on a cross, not only for my sins, but for the sins of this world.  He made a way for us to always have a relationship with Him, and Him with us.  God is with us, always.

Alex and I were asked a few months ago to share at the Christmas Eve service how those four words have impacted our life, with special focus on how it's impacted our journey with Cale.  When we first agreed to this I was ecstatic!  I was so excited to share our story with the congregation of our church, especially since so many of those people have been with us since the very first day Cale came into this world.

 Now with the Christmas Eve less than two weeks away, I find myself at a loss for words.  I have so many thoughts floating in my head but no way to do them justice merely through words.  I'm imagining a sanctuary full of people, many who probably do not know Jesus, and me wanting to say something profound and meaningful that might draw them to my Jesus.  I want people to see the existence of a living God through our story but I'm  having such a difficult time forming my thoughts into words that will do just that.  At this point I'm really just relying on God to take over as soon as I walk up on that stage.

I'm also doubting the person's decision who decided that Alex and I were the best people to share a testimony.  I know several people who have been through, or are going through, many more difficult things, and these people could probably do a whole lot better at conveying their point to thousands of people.  Why us?  The irony of this is that once the shock of finding out  Cale was different wore off, Alex and I dreamed of being able to do something like this.  We wanted the situations God had given us to draw people to Him; to have people see God in the way we lived our life.  Now we've been blessed with this incredible opportunity and all I want to do is stay in bed with the sheets pulled over my head until Christmas is over.

Perhaps I could get inspired by some of your thoughts.  How has the phrase, "God is with us", impacted your life?

Please, Christmas!  Don't come too quickly this year.  I need more time!

In the blink of an eye

Facebook has the uncanny ability to flash pictures across my screen, reminding me of good times gone and times I wish for again.  Most of the pictures I'm talking about are the ones of our vacation to Cabo earlier this year, but occasionally I see older pictures of when my kids were babies.  I see those tiny faces and all of a sudden I'm clicking through hundreds of pictures, tears welling up in my eyes, and wishing for them to be that small again, even if it was just for one day.  When did I become this person?

Pictures of Cale usually drudge up painful memories and remind me of how hard things were when he was smaller, but occasionally I'll come across a photo of him sitting up for the first time or taking his first steps and I immediately become all weepy and wish for time to slow down.  Pretty soon he'll be marching off to kindergarten and it'll be the beginning of the end.

The pictures of Riley as an infant are usually the sure-fire ones to bring tears to my eyes.  I have no idea how I kept calm when I realized I was pregnant with her before Cale even turned one, but I didn't know any different so I was naive and just thought, "hey, we're gonna have another baby!".  Complete craziness.  When she was born, and I could escape from all the worry of whether or not she was going to be a normal developing child, she introduced immediate joy to our lives.  She was always the prime subject of laughter and lightheartedness.  I know God gave her to us for many perfect reasons, most of which we have yet to discover, but I'm pretty sure his main purpose in those early months was to lighten us up so Alex and I didn't become permanent, dull pessimists.  How could any one person not be happy when they're around Riley?  She truly has grown from an infant to a young girl in just the blink of an eye.  Why couldn't have time moved this fast when I was younger and waiting for Christmas to arrive?

We are celebrating Cale's fourth birthday with all of his friends tomorrow.  We rented a big slide and are having his party up at our church.  I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking trying to organize a birthday party right after hosting Thanksgiving, but hopefully the small details I've forgotten will be overlooked once I see how happy Cale is when he lays his eyes on the slide.  He's going to be in heaven!  I can't believe my little three-pound baby boy is going to be four years old.  When I open my eyes again he's going to be asking his dad for the keys to the car.  Oy, oy, oy!

Tithing and Thanksgiving

Tithing is a touchy subject among many people, especially Christians.  We all have are own ideas on what's appropriate and we tend to justify all too often why we can't give financially.  Some people think that the giving of their time is just as valuable as the giving of their money.  I have my own ideas on tithing but that's not why I am writing a post on it.  I also put the word "thanksgiving" in the title of this and I hope to convey the blessings Alex and I have received because of how we choose to tithe.

This first story many of my close family and friends have already heard and so I'll keep it short and simple.  After Cale was born we quickly inquired many, many medical expenses.  Fortunately my husband is a financial extraordinaire, therefore we had a good chunk of savings to help us pay those first bills that started coming in.  Eventually, however, our savings was no longer enough.  The bills kept coming faster than the paychecks and we were given our first major financial challenge:  we needed to write our tithe check to our church but needed that money to pay off a hospital bill.  Alex came to me and asked what we should do; do we write the tithe check and ignore the bill, or pay our bill and just forget about that month's tithe.  Without really thinking I quickly told him we needed to tithe.  Had I thought about it a little more my answer might have been different, but Alex took my opinion to heart and we went to church that Sunday and dropped our check into the offering plate.  Less than a week later, we received a "love gift" from our church for $1,000.  God is good!

My next story happened just last week.  Alex had gotten a bonus at work several months ago.  We decided to set a portion of it aside to tithe.  Alex held on to the money for months and just last Monday decided to finally give it away.  Meanwhile, we had decided to get Cale an iPad for his birthday.  They have amazing applications for kids and also for people who cannot speak.  Even though Alex has wanted one ever since the concept was even introduced, he decided to set aside his own selfish desires and let his son have one first. :)  Like I said, we wrote our tithe check on Monday and on that following Wednesday, someone from our church who had heard about our desire to get Cale an iPad donated one to us!!!  This person had one for their own personal use but saw that Cale had a greater need for it than they did and decided to generously give it to us.  Wow.  Both Alex and I cried when we heard what they were doing and we still can't get over the fact how thoughtful and selfless people can be.  Again, God is good!

I share these examples because with Thanksgiving only a day away, I have been thinking about what I am most thankful for.  My immediate answers are of course my family, my friends, my health, and the fact that we have a warm place to live and food in our refrigerator.  But when I reflect on what God is doing in my life and how I can be thankful for those things, I first thought of how God has blessed us when we choose to obey.  I sometimes get in a rut when all I can think about is the crappy stuff we have to deal with, but at the end of the day God has been there for us every second of every day, watching over us and providing for us around every corner.  He never takes his eyes off of us for even a split second.  He always has a plan and He always fulfills His promises.

Now that I have my own children and I am able to experience the love a parent has for them, I am always amazed that God loves me even more than I love my own kids.  It's impossible to comprehend and I even become a little defensive when I think too hard about it.  How on earth could anyone love me more than I love Cale and Riley?  I thought I loved them better than anyone!  I am so thankful that God loves me and cares enough to want to be involved in the smallest details of my life.  I hope that for everyone reading this that you are able to experience God's love this Thanksgiving!

Dads

Alex and I are doing a marriage bible study up at our church following a book called Staying Close by Barbara and Dennis Rainey.  This is the first time in five years that Alex and I are both free during the Sunday School hour.  In previous years we've either helped with the youth or had too little of kids.  Now that both Cale and Riley are old enough to be in their own Sunday School class and Alex and I are taking a break from helping with the youth, we decided it would be fun to finally do a class together.  I'd have to say that this particular class was perfect for us to get involved with because it's challenged us to talk through difficult things, especially during times when we really didn't want to talk to one another.  Does anybody else fight with their spouse more than usual on Sunday mornings?  I don't know what it is about this day that puts me on edge, but the task of getting out of the house on time pushes a button in my brain that must read, "Every little teeny tiny thing about your spouse will annoy you today."  Not all Sundays are like this, of course, but a good portion of them turn out to be the most stressful day of the week.  Being involved in this marriage study has really made me feel foolish for being such an old hag.

This week the book talked about the role that mothers and fathers play in their children's lives.  The chapter about mothers made me feel incredibly inadequate and a complete failure as a mom, but maybe I'll talk about that another day.  The chapter about fathers, however, really made me thankful and appreciative for Alex, but maybe even more so, for my own dad.  I've known for quite a long time that I have an amazing dad, but somehow our group's discussion brought out a whole new respect I have for him.  I'm so thankful that I've never had to doubt for one split second that I was loved by my dad.  He was always involved in my life but the things I remember the best are him coaching my softball teams year after year and then his captivating interest in my golf game.  He volunteered to take ten-year olds golfing on Tuesday mornings, which could not have been easy because I'm sure as a ten-year old I just duffed the ball around and didn't pay any attention to the rules.  Painful to watch, I bet.  When I turned old enough to get involved in tournaments, he was ALWAYS there.  In high school my favorite memory  was being told by my mom that he elbowed people out of the way to see my score on the scoreboard.  He was shameless for me and words are not sufficient enough to tell you how loved that made me feel.  When we would go hiking in the summers I remember him getting so mad at me and my sister for getting too close to white water rivers.  Looking back, I now realize he got as mad as he did because he wanted to protect us.  He always wanted the best for us, no matter what that looked like.  He encouraged me in everything I did and praised me for all good things.  He got us first and last day of school presents every year, even through college.  He continues that tradition with Cale and I love it!  Aside from loving me, though, I'm most thankful for how he loves my mom.  They are coming up on their 28th wedding anniversary and now that I'm older I've realized that almost every security I had as a kid was due to the fact that my parents loved each other and stayed together.  He's a hard worker and has made incredible gains at work, most of which I probably don't even know about, but no matter how important work was to him, he always made time for his family and that was evident throughout my entire childhood.

Dads are so important in a little girl's life and I can't wait for Riley to get a little older when she starts to realize how great of a dad she has.  Alex is already talking about taking her out on dates and showing her that she's the most important girl in the whole world.  I just know that Riley will feel the same way about Alex as I do about my dad.  I'm so thankful that I married a man who can be that for Riley.  On the way home from running errands the other night, Riley saw the moon up in the sky and told Alex that she wanted it.  I could see the twinge of pain in his eyes when he had to tell her he couldn't.  If it were possible, I'm sure he would spend the rest of his life trying to get her the moon.

I love you, Dad.

Update

Cale had a follow-up doctor appointment yesterday and so I thought I'd update you on the current findings:

Nothing.


How very non-exciting.  Alex and I haven't noticed any real changes in Cale since he started the steroids, except for the fact that he seems to be more uncomfortable and spitting up more.  However, he gained seven ounces (!!!), so I suppose something good has come from this little experiment.  His doctor wants to continue him on the steroids through this week because supposedly by Friday we will definitely know if they are either going to work or not work. We are scheduled for another appointment next Tuesday.

All in all, we're pretty frustrated that nothing is really changing but I suppose this is just another step in the elimination process.  Other than being in obvious discomfort during and after eating, Cale has been in great spirits which we are incredibly thankful for.

In other news, we are taking Cale to his very first Griz game this coming Saturday!  Alex and I went back and forth on what we wanted to get him for his birthday and when we finally just decided to ask him what he wanted, he said "football".  My dad was a stud and hooked us up with three great tickets so we're leaving Riley behind and having a special outing with just the birthday boy!  I'm so excited I feel like peeing my pants!  He is going to have the time of his life!  He loves watching football on TV so I can just imagine how he'll react when he gets to watch it in person.

I can't believe how quickly Thanksgiving is approaching!  Alex's mom and step-dad are coming to visit from Seattle which means I am hosting my very first Thanksgiving dinner.  My mom has set the standards high in my mind and so I feel a bit like Monica from "Friends"...in one episode she decides to compete with herself by trying to top her previous Thanksgiving dinner.  I fully intend to spend the entire day in the kitchen, completely stressed and overwhelmed, while not accepting any help.  Just the way I want it. :)

At this very moment I feel at peace, which is a 180 degree turn from how I felt last week.  I hate seeing Cale in pain but I don't hate myself for not being able to fix it.  Riley is a typical two-year old girl who throws tantrums over dropping her fork or a spaghetti noodle falling off her plate, but even those I have been able to deal with rather well.  She clings on me 24/7 and rather than being annoyed I've discovered that I kind of like it.  Neither of my children have napped this week, and being that it's now Thursday and I still have my wits, I consider that a phenomenal feat on my part.  I can only attribute any of this to answered prayer and a god who loves unconditionally.

Of course this could all change by this afternoon but at least now I have a sense of humor on the whole situation.

Pure

I've always wanted to be upfront and honest with my readers, and myself, when I created this blog.  I wanted people to understand what my life was like having a disabled a child.  I also created it to be an escape.  Writing is somewhat of a drug to me; it clears my mind and gives me a sense of euphoria, however short lasting.  No wonder English was my favorite subject in school. 

I also understand that my raw honesty can be hard to read, and maybe even sometimes boring.  I try really hard when I sit down at the computer to write about something funny that went on that day or something comical the kids have done,  In being honest with myself, though, it's much easier to share the big, the bad, and the ugly.

This last week was beyond ugly.  My poor husband let me go to bed around 7:00 in the evening and I slept soundlessly until 8:00 when my daughter hopped up on my bed demanding chocolate milk.  That was my cue that the day was about to begin and if I was lucky enough, I might have the energy to wash my hair.  I tried to put up a good front in front of my children and my friends but inside I was screaming, loudly, for an escape.  Life had gotten too hard for me to handle.

To hopefully quickly summarize the events leading up to my horrible, no good, very bad week, my mind was being held prisoner to the stresses of Cale.  I've had a hunch for quite some time that he's losing weight and I literally feel exhausted of all options in trying to get more calories in him.  For a child who cannot eat, adding more calories to his diet is impossible.  I was too scared to take him into the doctor for a weight check because I knew my fears would be confirmed and then they would most likely admit him into the hospital, just like they had before when he was about six months old.  The option of admitting him into the hospital was not an option I was willing to consider.  Finally on Thursday night I thought we had breakthrough!  He drank an entire cup of his specialized extra-calorie formula, which is something he has never done before.  Praise God!  Knowing he had those extra calories in him lifted a giant weight off of my shoulders.  Unfortunately, seconds after he swallowed his last gulp it ALL came back up.  And not because he was sick but because of the stupid crap he has to deal with inside of his gut!  I was so angry, so defeated, so helpless that all I could do was grab my bottle of Resolve Carpet Cleaner and weep.  I scrubbed away at the carpet far longer than I needed to and just cursed God for making my son this way. 

I went to bed not speaking to my husband because we all know we deal with these kinds of things very differently.  I prefer to grieve in quiet while he wants to talk it out.  Rather than lean on each other we end up creating more hostility within our home, which is never a good solution for anyone.  We are slowly learning that we are not each other's enemy.  This is a very hard lesson to learn.

Friday morning came.  Riley jumped up on my bed, as per usual, demanding chocolate milk and as I sauntered down the stairs, I heard Cale stirring in his bed.  I decided to bring him upstairs with us so that we could all snuggle in our bed and watch cartoons.  I cherish those fifteen minutes so much because no one has to worry about if someone's finished their breakfast, gone potty in their panties, eaten a tube of toothpaste, gotten into the drawer of knives, etc..  It's just me and my kiddos enjoying being cuddled up in bed together, no matter how annoying the cartoon may be.

Our fifteen minutes were up, though, and it was time to get ready for the day.  I fought with Cale for over an hour trying to get him to finish his breakfast, finally giving up because I knew that the more he ate the more likely he was to throw it all up.  Knowing he needs those calories and knowing that he's not getting them twists my stomach into a million knots until I finally feel like I'm going to throw up.  I hate feeling like I'm failing him as a mom.  Lucky for us, and I saw this with the heaviest of sarcasm, the dietitian was coming to our house in the afternoon to check on how Cale was doing.  She weighed him, did her little calculations and told us that he was underweight and his BMI level was a dangerous low.  DUH.  This is something you can tell just by looking at the kid.  She gave her little spiel just like she gives every other normal child, making me feel like an idiot parent that doesn't know how to adequately feed her child.

The dietician finally left and I abruptly got on the phone with our pediatrician.  I was at my wits end and I didn't know what to do anymore.  She very nicely told us to come in right away and even though she had an afternoon of patients lined up, she spent over an hour listening to my concerns and then offering solutions.  Hallelujah!  Her plan is to start Cale on two different kinds of steroids over the weekend.  I'm not exactly sure what the steroids will do but she gave Cale a diagnosis that is was too long of a word to repeat or even understand, so please just believe that the steroids are to treat that.  If we don't see the improvements the doctor would like to see, she will most like want to put in a  mickey button.  A mickey button is a non-medical term for feeding tube.  It will be hooked up through his belly button and when it's time to eat we'll just plug in a little tube and let the food flow.

I have an array of mixed emotions about this.  I obviously don't want my son to have to eat through a feeding tube.  It will be just one more thing that makes him different.  But as my mother-in-law so eloquently put it this morning, "He is different".  I also am not fond of having him go though another surgery.  This poor kid has had more anesthesia than anyone should have in a lifetime, but perhaps this option is a blessing in disguise and we will see God's plan fold out before our eyes.  Plus, the surgery would happen in LA and I could use a little sunshine in my life right now.

As for baby number three, things with Cale has made me realize that we have no time or energy for another baby.  At least not yet.  Do you ever feel like your dreams just keep getting squashed around every corner you look?

The other side of Me

Yesterday was probably the hardest day I've encountered in a very long time.  Without going into every detail explaining why it was so awful, the best way I can explain it is that I just wanted to lay in bed, hold my breath, and fly away.

I'm not talking about suicide.  I would never, ever consider that option.  It was more of a feeling of wanting to escape everything bad that is going on in my life, or more or less my perception of what is bad in my life.

It started out yesterday at the mall.  My friend has asked me to meet to there to grab some coffee with another gal and let our kids play.  As per usual, Cale doesn't really like to play.  He prefers to dig through other people's purses, grab cell phones, untie strangers' shoe laces, etc..  My take on his behavior is that it takes one hundred times more effort to play than it takes other kids, therefore he chooses to just give up and do things he can do, such as dig through purses, untie shoes, and grab at cell phones.  It literally breaks my heart to see that kind of defeat in him.

After we gave up playing on the train we all decided to venture over and get a pretzel.  All of the other kids were eating one and so I gave Cale a little piece off of Riley's dipped in Ranch.  As per usual, he fumbled with it in his fingers and Ranch poured from his mouth and down all over his face.  One of his peers looked over at Cale and said, "Eeew, Cale's making a mess." Perhaps I was a bit more sensitive that day but that little comment made me cry.  I hate seeing Cale getting made fun of, mostly because I know that this is just the beginning.

All the while I was with my friends the subject of baby showers and baby gifts fluttered through our conversation.  I feel like I should be able to at least hear about babies and see pregnant bellies without turning into a sop, but for some reason my sadness keeps getting worse, not better.  I really want to be genuinely happy for my friends, and I truly believe I am...in fact I'm sure of it...but the pain just doesn't seem to go away.

I'm already taking anti-depressants from which I started when I first had my miscarriage.  I'm a little worried about myself, and so is my husband, because all I want to do is sleep.  I can take a three-hour nap in the middle of the day and fall fast asleep again at bedtime.  I'm always tired, always on the verge of crying, and never really having an appetite.  I've had to choke down food just to make sure I get at least some nutrition in me.  I've had little desire to work out; something that used to energize me and put me in the best of moods.

I have no idea what's going on but I want so badly to just return back to me.  The happy, excited, goofy, Erica.  I miss her.

Honesty with a side of baby, please.

It's been five months since we lost Baby Burkhalter.  Even though my twelve-week bean looked more like an amphibian than a human, I still give our baby a name because I loved it dearly.  I would lay in bed at night, terrified about how my life would change adding a third child, but comforted by the fact that unlike my other two pregnancies, I was already deeply in love with the child growing inside of me.  I would also lay in bed rubbing my ever-expanding belly (it's amazing how fast it grows with the third pregnancy) and made a vow to myself not to get so absorbed in how my body was changing.  With both Cale and Riley I griped about gaining weight and was always so nervous to step on that evil weekly scale, but this time I promised to give my baby the best home possible, even if it meant gaining fifty pounds.

But then my baby left me.

This weekend Alex and I went shopping for some warmer clothes for the kids.  It's frosty in the mornings and I feel like a terrible parent dropping Cale off at preschool without proper layers.  Riley grows like a weed and I swear she needs new clothes every few weeks.  After we put the kids to bed I decided to get all of their new clothes ready to be washed.  I tore off the tags and started separating colors and for whatever reason I started to weep.  Sob, really.  Alex came into the room and was obviously startled by my quick change in mood.  Between sobs I told him that all of these clothes were too big..."I wanted to be folding new baby clothes.".

I was beginning to think that time was making things easier.  I assumed time was going to help me get over the baby I never really had.  It's proving to be quite the opposite however.  Little things that should be harmless can trigger something inside of me that instantly set me off.

I heard a friend of mine tell me that a January 1st delivery would be the absolute worst.  January 1st was our baby's due date and even though she meant nothing hurtful behind her comment, it took everything in me not to crawl in a hole and hide.

On the other side of this coin is the agony of trying to decide if we should try to have another baby.  My prayer since the day we found out we lost our baby was that if we were meant to try again that God would make that desire known in our hearts.  Sometimes I am so confused that I don't know where my desire is.  What if we make the wrong choice and we lose that baby, too?  Or what if we make the choice to have another baby and it turns out that whatever is going on with Cale is genetic and we then have two children with disabilities.  My fragile little heart would not survive that.  I wish God were here to sit with me and tell me what He wants for our family, in LOUD, AUDIBLE, words.

The stress of family planning is going to make me older much faster than I'd like.

"Candy" is the magic word!

Candy!  Or as Riley would say, "tandy" since she pronounces her c's like t's.  Cale doesn't live at our house but Tale does. :)  Riley loves candy and it's worked as a bribery to get her to do almost anything.  If we want her to finish the rest of her dinner, sit still while I do her hair, lay down to get her clothes on, etc., we just bribe her with candy.  It works nearly every time and even though I know it won't work forever, I'm of the mindset that whatever works in the moment, DO IT.  Please hold your judgments for later.  

Backing up, we've been lightly trying to introduce the concept of going potty in the big girl potty for about six months.  We've had a little potty in the bathroom for nearly a year, just to get Cale and Riley used to the idea before we actually started talking about it.  Both Alex and I agreed that we wouldn't push the issue and that when they decided they were ready,  that's when we would be ready to teach and guide them.  As I started to see other kids that were Riley's age become interested in potty training, I would casually ask her if she wanted to try and go in the big girl potty.  Each and every time her answer would be a definite "NO!". Alrighty then.  After about six months of her refusing to even try, I began to think we would never rid our house of diapers.  

A few days ago Riley was laying down on the floor before bed, getting her diaper changed and her pajamas on, and I nonchalantly asked her if she wanted to start going potty like a big girl.  As per usual, she glared at me and said, "No!".  "But Riley, if you go potty in the big girl potty I'll give you a piece of caaannnnndyyyyy.".  

As soon as I said the word candy she jumped up, completely naked, and started running towards the bathroom.  She sat down on her little potty and with just a little bit of coaxing she finally went to the bathroom for the very first time!  Alex, Cale, and I were all there to cheer and clap for her, which she absolutely loved, and after she was finished she promptly demanded candy.  Well, the only problem was that I was so used to her refusing to even try using the potty that I said I'd give her candy without thinking about the fact that we didn't have any candy...not even one tiny piece of chocolate anywhere in our house.

Whoops.

Thankfully, the promise of going to the candy store the next day was good enough and she continued to show interest in the potty even though her mom had lied about the rewards straight to her face.  Being very brave (and probably very stupid) I put big girl panties on her the following morning to go to the candy store.  She picked out several different kinds of jelly beans and although we still put her in diapers for bedtime, I've been putting her in big girl underwear and we really haven't had too many accidents and she's been very good about telling us when she has to go.  We've truly lucked out with this kid and potty training isn't nearly the nightmare I had created it to be in my head.  

That isn't the best part, though.

Since we've been spending a good portion of our days in the bathroom, Cale is usually present for most of our trips to the potty.  He's been watching Riley, helping her flush, getting the toilet paper for her, and clapping for her when she's done.  He seems to be very interested in the whole process and has even asked to sit on the little potty with Riley. :)  With Cale's undefined motor delays we aren't entirely sure he can feel the sensation of having to go to the bathroom.  We think he can but since he can't tell us we have no sure way of knowing.  He has major constipation issues and so it's blatantly obvious when he has to go number two, so I'm assuming he can feel that sensation.  Yesterday while he was squatting on the floor, in his diaper mind you, he shot up and headed toward the bathroom as fast as he could go.  We followed him in and he was pointing to the potty.  I undressed him and plopped him on the potty, not really expecting anything but mainly just humoring him.  To my complete surprise he actually went!  Riley was there and clapped for him and said, "Good job, Tale!".  Cale was so proud of himself and thoroughly enjoyed the process of wiping and flushing. :)  Even better, though, Cale walked out of the bathroom and signed the word candy.  Well, as most of you know Cale isn't able to eat candy.  He's never even tried it.  Again, I decided to humor him and gave him one tiny jellybean.  Once he put it in his mouth I could see he was a bit scared but he refused to panic and tried to chew it instead.  About two or three minutes later he opened his mouth and signed all done!

Holy crap!  Cale just told us he had to go the bathroom, he went, AND ate a piece of candy!  Three firsts in the matter of five minutes!


I learned a few important lessons yesterday.  One was that I should never, ever underestimate Cale's abilities.  He is more aware of the things going on around him than I even am.  He desires so much to be like everybody else and I'm learning more and more everyday that he is just like everybody else.  I've said this before but even though he appears to be different on the outside, he truly is a typical toddler.  There's nothing better in this world than watching him figure things out and surprising us with his newfound knowledge.  This kid is going places.

Since yesterday Cale has eaten an entire piece of Hershey's miniature candy and two more jellybeans.  As any normal child, he's discovered that candy is really good and I can already see that we've probably created a monster.  At this point I am just so proud that he's able to participate in normal kid indulgences that I'll give him all the candy he wants.  As my mom put it, there's always the option of dentures to fall back on. :)

So I have one child in the midst of potty training and another who is in the very beginning stages, which pretty much means I will be spending the majority of my days in the bathroom.  The good news is that our bathrooms will be sparkling clean since there really isn't much else to do while they each spend about half an hour on the potty at a time.

They are their father's children.  

Five years in the making...

According to Alex's and my plans when we first got married, we should just now be starting to talk about having kids.

Funny.

This Friday Alex and I will celebrate our five-year wedding anniversary.  I can still remember that day as if it were just yesterday.  Cliche.  But true.  What a beautiful fall day it was to marry the man of my dreams!

Although I didn't see it then, I would definitely agree that the first year of marriage is the hardest.  For me, it was extremely difficult to let go of the expectations I thought marriage would fulfill.  It was saddening to learn that marriage wasn't all "little house on the prairie" kind of stuff.  Marriage was, and is, hard.  But oh so worth it!  It's only gotten better since that first year, and thanks to the kind of man I married, I can't wait for the next fifty! :)


I knew I was marrying a great man when I said "I do" but I had no idea just how great of a man he would turn out to be.  He loves me with all his soul and devotes his life to the Lord and to our kids.  He's an amazing father, the kind that gets on the floor to play with them rather than watching them from his seat on the couch.  He's committed to his family and you can see that in nearly every aspect of his daily life.  Every action is for his family.  He's forgiving, selfless, loyal, loving, hard-working, and those are just a FEW of his very best qualities.  He truly is a one-of-a-kind gem and I'm so glad I was the one to find him.

So what do we have to show for the five years we've been married?  Lots of arguments and make-ups, many tears but more laughs, two "holy crap there's two pink lines" moments, a small apartment with no air-conditioning, two wonderful houses, and 1,825 mornings of waking up to the best man in the world.  It's gone by incredibly fast and even though we're not where in the place we had planned for when we first got married, it's the only place I want to be.

We are able to celebrate, thanks to my mom and sister who are driving from Billings to watch Cale and Riley, by taking off for a couple of nights to Quinn's Hot Springs.  Neither of us have been there and don't really know anybody that has, which means Alex is totally jumping out of his comfort zone and being spontaneous.  I have no idea what we're going to do but I'm so excited, for two reasons.  One, two nights away from the kids is like a mini-vacation and two, the kids have been driving me insane the past couple of days which means this break could not have come at a better time.  We can sleep in without being woke by a little girl demanding chocolate milk and Curious George.  We can go to bed without making sure a little boy has his two little ropes, his monkey, and his favorite blanket.  And we can lie down to go to sleep without listening to Riley cry about not having both of her nee-nees (favorite blankets), her big pig, her little pig, her elephant, her hammer, her microphone, her big blanket, her princess night-light, and her two other night-lights placed strategically across the room.  Yes, she really does need all of that to go to sleep.  Alex and I have indeed created a monster.  Good luck to my mom and sister. :)

And yet, even though I'm so looking forward to getting away with my husband, I will no doubt be itching to return to our chaotic and stressful life.  Five years and we've already created something wonderful and magical - OUR LIFE.

I love you, Alex.  Thank for you for the five years you've given me with you.  You're one amazing man and I'm so lucky to be married to you!  

Trying my very best to be sensitive here

Based on my experience with Cale, grief comes in waves.  Some waves are small, easy to deal with, just barely getting your toes wet.  Other waves can be huge, enveloping your whole body and churning you underneath the water until you feel like you can't hold your breath for one more second.  And other waves are simply waves; they roll in, get you wet, and then roll back out again.

I never thought losing a baby to miscarriage would be anything like that.  I just assumed it would be one of those huge waves that takes you under water until you feel like you can't hold your breath for one more second, and then it would release you into the fresh, oxygenated air.  This weekend, though, I realized that even this type of grief can show up at any time, in any form, completely unannounced.

On Saturday my friend had a baby shower for her new baby boy that is to arrive at the end of October.  I've known about the shower for quite some time and have had multiple discussions with my husband, and even my therapist about whether or not I should go.  They both agreed that it would be healthy for me to go, and maybe even easy.  The whole night before the shower and then the morning of, I had a huge pit of anxiety rolling around in my stomach.  I was irritable and snappy towards my husband and kids and I couldn't really pinpoint an exact good reason.  I just wanted to go to the shower and get it over with.

The shower itself was fine.  My best friend who hosted it did a wonderful job and everything was beautifully set up.  The mother-to-be looked glowing and everyone was excited to finally celebrate this baby boy she has been carrying for nine months.  Naturally, I am a very compassionate, empathetic, and cheerful person but I know none of those qualities exuded themselves that day.  For reasons I can't even explain, I started tearing up while the mom began opening up her gifts.  Seeing the tiny clothes and fun teething toys just hit me and no matter how hard I tried to stop them, the tears started welling in my eyes.

"I hate this, Erica.  Stop it!  You're here to support your friend, not be the downer of the party."  I truly was embarrassed by my emotions and after I realized that I wasn't going to be able to fake my way through the rest of the shower, I quietly made my exit.

As soon as I got home I decided to go for a run because exercise generally makes me happy.  And it did, for a brief moment.

Sunday must have been the compilation of everything that had gone on the day before.  I was exhausted; not just tired, but completely and utterly lacking of any reserve of energy.  I cried multiple times throughout the day and never could quite fully explain to my husband what was going on.  How can you explain something to someone when you yourself don't even understand it?  I hate the person I was yesterday and to be honest, I just want the sadness to go away so I can go on being the Erica I am proud of.  I don't want to have to go to bed at 7:00 just to escape the sadness.

I just want my life back, as if that baby never started to grow inside of me in the first place...as if I never had the chance to start loving it before it was taken from us.

If at first you don't succeed...

As many of you know, my little Cale is non-verbal.  He can say a few words but they are probably only recognizable to Alex or me.  He uses sign language to communicate, but again, his signs are only recognizable to a very small group of people.  When I think about this and the fact that he is almost four years old, I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that he is generally an incredibly happy boy that is easy to please.  If I could only communicate with a few people and regardless of how hard or how long I tried to get people to understand me, and they just couldn't, I would probably become a bitter, sad, lonely woman.  Not my Cale, though.  He just keeps persevering and constantly has the mindset of "if at first you don't succeed, try, try again".

My mind has really been focusing on his communication lately.  Cale has been making some incredible gains in his speech, which is probably why I'm so infatuated by it.  He is starting to form sentences with his signs and becoming outrageously creative in trying to get us to understand his specific wants and feelings.  For example, he is obsessed with technology and his most recent love is a green iPod Nano that Alex and I no longer use.  We gave it to Cale to play with and ever since then he has become attached to the silly thing.  He asks to sleep with it, hold it in the car, etc..  He used to use the sign for "phone" when he wanted it but since he also likes to play with our cell phones, he realized that he wasn't being specific enough to get what he wanted when he wanted it!  Therefore he came up with  another way of asking.  During speech therapy, his teacher uses an activity with turtles to practice his vowel sounds.  With the vowel "I", there is a picture of a turtle stretching one arm straight up into the air and the goal is for Cale to mimic the turtle and say "IIIIIIIIIII" for as long as he can.  It's a silly game but it works.  Anyway, we have been practicing his vowel sounds for months and months and months because there are still a few he cannot say.  Well, we recently started noticing him sticking one arm in the air and randomly saying, "IIIIIII".  It took me a few tries to figure out what he was saying but once he paired the arm in the air with the sign for "green", I immediately knew he was asking me for the green iPod.  Another example, when we were driving to Alex's parents' house last weekend Cale kept giving us the sign for "home".  He is usually very excited to go to Grandma and Grandpa's and so we were puzzled with why he would want to stay home.  After a few tries of trying to communicate with him, he finally pointed out the car window and we realized that we had just passed Home Depot.  Still puzzled, we asked him, "Do you want to go to Home Depot?".  An instant smile flashed across his face and he signed, "yes".  

This may seem small to most of you, especially for those of you with children that can just tell you exactly what they want when they want it, but for Alex and me it has made a huge difference in how we are able to communicate with him.  He needs less prompting and I'm starting to realize more and more how very normal he truly is.  He acts, and even thinks, like a typical three year-old.  Just the other day he got mad at me for telling him that he needed to wait for something and so he marched down the hall, into his bedroom and "slammed" the door;  typical toddler behavior and let me tell you, I couldn't have been more proud. :)  

Even though Cale is very different from his peers, I'm starting to feel like life is normalizing for us.  I was trying to explain this to Alex last Sunday after coming home from church and I'm not sure I can best summarize my feelings in words, but I'll give it a shot.  I used to get embarrassed when people realized that Cale was different.  "Embarrassed" isn't the right word because I'm not embarrassed by Cale, but maybe anxious is a better term to use.  I was anxious because I never wanted people to judge him, and by taking him to restaurants, out to the mall, or to church, he would become a prime subject for judgment.  In my heart I knew that people would love him if they just gave him a chance, but unfortunately for most people with disabilities, they are never given that first chance.  I'm sure any parent would not want other people to think anything less of their child than the overflowing pride you have for them, and I certainly am no different.

I just want people to love Cale as much as I do and to realize that he truly is more normal than he is different.  

First Day of School

Last Wednesday was Cale's first day of his second year in preschool!  Cale has literally been asking to go back to school since the last day of school this past spring.  On the rare occasion that I would have both kids and myself ready to walk out the door before nine o'clock in the morning on any given day, Cale would automatically assume we were headed to school, because we ALL know that without an incredibly good reason to be showered, dressed, fed, and still sane, there was no possible way to be so prudent.  We would head to the car and Cale would clap his hands together twice, therefore asking me if we were going to school.  Sorry, Dude.  You have three long months stuck with ME.  How awful.  


The night before his first day we laid out his clothes that he was to wear in the morning and packed his backpack with everything a preschooler needs: a change of clothes, diapers, wipes, and a snack.  I'm pretty sure Cale would have slept in his clothes with his backpack strapped to his back if we would've let him.  He woke up bright-eyed and ready to go!  Alex and I took an unnecessary amount of pictures at the house and I proceeded to embarrass him even further by making him stand in front of his school while I snapped even more.  I thought for sure I would shed at least a little tear but after I took him to his classroom and saw that he was too excited to even wave good-bye to me, I couldn't help but be anything but just as excited for him.  I drove away a very proud momma!

This school year is a little different from last year.  For one, he goes three days a week as opposed to just two.  Second, I'm letting him ride the bus.  I feel a little embarrassed and a little guilty by the latter change.  I'm embarrassed because I'm a stay-at-home mom and I feel it's my JOB to take my kids to and from school.  I can't help but wonder if his teachers think I'm lazy because I won't even drop off my own kid - I'm making someone else do it for me.  I feel guilty because Cale wants to take the bus, and my selfish need as a mother to be in control of every aspect of his life is already rearing its ugly head.  Watching the bus drive away from our house is like having everything thrown into the wind.  How am I ever going to survive his teenage years???

Other than those changes, everything is pretty much the same.  He has the same teacher and the same classroom.  On his first day all of the teachers and therapists were outside greeting the kids, and when they saw Cale everyone seemed to light up!  I'd like to think they were more excited to see him than any other student, but that's probably just me. :)

While Cale is at school I try and do something fun with Riley.  I thoroughly enjoy my alone time with her and this year I'm treasuring it even more as I realize how fast time is flying by.  If we decide to put Riley in preschool she will start next school year.  AAAHHH!  I've heard a million times from older and more experienced parents, "Enjoy these days because you'll never get them back."

As cliche and redundant as that statement sounds, it is so true and makes me a little sad.  If I survive the toddler years I'm sure I'll look back at these days with nothing but happy memories.

It's the little things that make us smile!

I can hardly believe summer is coming to an end.  Missoula had a handful days of sweltering heat but other than that I can't really remember feeling like it was actually summer.  We spent a few weekends at the lake, went to Denver for a week, but other than that it was a pretty quiet, and very short, three months.  Last summer was full of buzz and busyness which made this year seem a bit dull.  We are planning a last-minute trip to Billings this Friday for the Labor Day weekend but I think that will be the end of any spontaneity before winter traps us in our homes for the next six months. <sigh>

Alex has been EXTREMELY busy at work the last few months which has probably contributed to our quiet summer.  He finally closed a deal last week which has him breathing a huge sigh of relief.  He has an extraordinary work ethic and as much as I'd like to complain about him working so much and not being as available to our family as he usually is, I'm grateful he's willing to work so hard to provide for us.  I definitely got lucky when he chose me to spend his life with.

Cale and Riley continue to be loads of work and some days I've considering trading them in for new ones, but at the end of each day when they finally fall asleep and look seemingly innocent on all accounts, I remember how lucky I am to have these two wonderful kids.

Riley is a constant stream of entertainment, always making me laugh and marvel at how fast she is growing up.  She's talking in full sentences and developing her own personality.  She's reached the independent I-can-do-it-myself stage.  She refuses help even when she clearly needs it, which usually results in lots of tears and frustration...taking after her mother, I'm afraid.  She asks what seems like hundreds of questions within a matter of twenty minutes, usually while we're in the car, and when I catch myself becoming irritated after hearing the same question over and over again, I remind myself that it's a blessing she can process her thoughts and voice them into questions.  I do find myself taking her normalcy for granted from time to time, which is both disappointing and sad, because I told myself I would never do that.  It's heartbreaking to realize that I sometimes forget what a giant miracle she is.

Cale continues to be my Little Engine That Could.  He amazes me almost every day with his never-ending supply of determination and patience.  He's walking better, which is one thing I can confidently say I have NOT taken for granted, and his sense of balance seems to be improving as well.  He still falls from time to time but he's better at catching himself and staying upright when his sister crashes into him.  He's able to walk up and down the stairs holding onto the rail while someone holds his other hand, which is honestly something I never thought I would see.  I'm hopeful that he will one day be able to go up and down all on his own!  He's also been able to crawl/walk up the stairs at the playground to go down the slide, all by himself!  He's mastered "scooting" which has allowed him to do the whole process of going down the slide completely on his own, which I must admit has lifted much anxiety about going to the park.  Last summer I can remember dreading going there because it was so depressing to watch a child not be able to play on toys that were created for him, but this summer that all changed.  I enjoyed going to the park and watching Cale overcome his fears and conquering obstacles.  On a more impressive note, after nearly three years of hard work, he is finally allowing solid food in his mouth!!!  He's never been a fan of pureed textures and usually pushes them out with his tongue.  He's always had his eye on whatever we are eating: steak, bread, corn on-the-cob...you know, the easy stuff.  (yeah right!)  About a month ago we were at the dinner table eating tacos.  After we were all finished and just sitting around the table talking, Cale leaned over and grabbed a black bean off my plate.  He fumbled with it in his hands while trying to get it into his mouth.  This wasn't unusual because we always give him things off our plate to suck on and taste.  I asked him if he wanted me to help him and by some miracle he let me put the little black bean in his mouth!  Once in his mouth, rather than freaking out and immediately pushing it out with his tongue, he kept his mouth closed and started making a chewing motion!  Now this was indeed a miracle!  He had never done this in his nearly four years of living!  He calmly moved the little bean around in his mouth and after a few minutes I watched him swallow it!  Alex and I were practically doing backflips in the kitchen, clapping and praising Cale with everything we had.  He continued to eat SIX more little black beans before he finally decided he was full. :)  He was so proud of himself, probably because Alex and I were acting as if he had just won an Olympic event, but the smile and sense of satisfaction on his face was priceless and probably a moment I will never forget.  After the little black bean, he has since allowed more things into his mouth.  He's since tried watermelon, pancakes, baked beans, cake, and a few other things.  He is still very far from being at a point where he could eat enough to actually gain nutrition from it, but we are incredibly encouraged and hopeful that his days on a liquid diet may soon be over.  Aside from advances in his eating, he is also getting more efficient with his communication.  He learns signs as fast as I can say them and probably has a vocabulary of more than 100 different signs.  His vocal communication is getting better, too.  He can now SAY the words dada, papa, purple, hi, ball, football, and bye-bye.  These words are relatively easy for Alex and I to understand but are probably harder for other people to decipher.  Either way, we are also very encouraged and hopeful by these gains.  He shows an incredible amount of patience and grace towards us when we have a difficult time understanding what he's trying to say.  He rarely shows any signs of frustration and instead continues to try different ways to get his point across.  He probably thinks his parents are a couple of dummies. :)  It's really neat because since Riley knows every sign Cale knows, she is sometimes able to vocally tell us what Cale wants.  We will be driving near the mall and Cale will do the sign for "train", meaning that he wants to go play on the train in the mall, and pretty soon Riley will say, "Mama, Cale wants to go to the choo-choo!".  It's a huge blessing that Cale and Riley are able to communicate with each other!

There are so many other things I could write about now, including the several doctor appointments Cale has been to this summer, but I think I've shared enough for now. :)  All in all, we seem to be doing well the past several weeks.  My spirits are lifted and I feel pretty positive and hopeful about life.  Cale starts preschool next Wednesday and so I'm sure I'll be sharing about that soon!

This is so hard for me to admit...

...but I have officially become a "Twilight Junky".

This is hard for me to admit because for years, ever since the first book was released, I scoffed at all the people who had become lovers of vampires.  I never read fiction books, only non-fiction, and so I didn't dare try and see what all the fuss was about.  I was flabbergasted by the "Team Edward" and "Team Jacob" shirts that girls all across the country started wearing.  How stupid, I thought.  I was especially skeptical of my sister because, for any of you reading this that know her, she can read the same book twenty times and never get bored.  She was a Twilight junky, always buying the books on their release date and seeing the movies on opening night.  I thought to myself, "isn't she a little old to be so engrossed in this enormous teeny bopper fad?"  I'm not sure how many times she's read the books but I'm guessing she's read through all four more than once .  What a waste of time, I thought.

It wasn't until a few months ago, while the third movie was still in theaters, that my mom told me I should watch the movies.  Pfff, yeah right!  I have zero interest in vampires.  She countered me by telling me that the movies were more romance than anything else.  Okay, she had perked my interest a little.  I'm not one to resist a good love story.  So it was on a Friday night that Alex and I drove around to every movie store in Missoula looking for the first Twilight movie.  With the invention of Redbox I'm surprised movie stores even exist.  We had zero luck and I was genuinely disappointed.

 "Why on earth was I so set on watching this stupid movie?"

Thank goodness I married a problem-solver because once we got home and Alex realized I wasn't going to give up pouting, he bought the movie on iTunes so that we could watch it after the kids went to bed.

I was surprised at how fast I became enthralled with it and the characters.  "Okay, so this is what all the fuss is about!"

We finished the first movie around 11:00 and I knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep until I saw the second one.  Alex rented that movie on iTunes, not bothering to buy it, too.  We finished the second one and as if I didn't already know this after watching the first one, I was hooked.  I needed to see the third movie in theaters or I wouldn't be able to go on.  Dramatic, I know.

Our next available date night was spent watching Eclipse.  I felt like a total loser sitting in the movie theater but I didn't care.  I didn't care that I had become such a hypocrite.

I just finished the first book last night and have started in on the second one.  I have stayed up far past my bedtime, which is usually right after the kids go to bed around 9:30, and Alex has caught me with my light on well past one o'clock in the morning, my eyes glued to the pages of these silly books.  It's still a little hard for me to believe.

You can bet that once the fourth movie is released in theaters, I will be there on opening night wearing my "Team Edward" tee-shirt, unashamed and totally excited.

My heart

Yesterday I found the ultrasound picture of our third child stuck to the bottom of our big blue garbage can. I opened the lid to throw away one of Riley's toxic diapers and that familiar photo of black and white caught my eye.  In shock, I just stared at it for a few seconds.  Knowing that if I looked at it any longer, or worse, dared to retrieve it from the bottom of the garbage can, I would have burst into tears and scared my in-laws who are currently visiting us from Washington.  Even now, sitting here typing this, I'm sad to know that the only picture we have of our lost baby is stuck on the bottom of a nasty, smelly, big blue garbage can.

I don't know how or why that ultrasound picture made it into the garbage.  Perhaps it's because I have enough to fill an entire scrapbook that I thought I would wait to keep the ones that actually showed somewhat of a resemblance of a baby.  Those first glimpses of babies just look like itty-bitty blobs.  Precious blobs, but blobs all the same.

Today was the first time I've cried about the miscarriage in probably a couple of months.  So I give myself a B+ in terms of how I'm doing.  I would have never guessed how painful and emotional a miscarriage is on a person.  To be honest, I think my ability to cope has a lot to do with the antidepressants I am taking.  Antidepressants are a slippery slope for me.  I took them for a very short time after Cale was born and was still in the hospital.  I went off of them quickly thinking I could handle things on my own.  Thankfully, with only a few slip-ups here and there, I was able to get along without them just fine.  This time, however, I NEED the help.  Without help I was choosing very poor ways to cope, and really those ways only made things worse and not better.  With my husband's urging, I decided to talk to my OB/GYN about the things I was feeling and he suggested I go on a mild antidepressant.  After about a month I decided I was all better and stopped taking them.  Not a good idea.  I again slipped back into deep sadness and tried to find ways to cope on my own.  Those ways did not help, and again, just made things worse.  With my husband's pleading I went back on the drugs and seem to be doing pretty well presently.

I think one of the hardest things I face on a daily basis is watching my best friend grow her baby in her belly.  I was so excited when I found out she was pregnant and even more excited to find out that I was due only a week after her.  We have been pregnant with both of kids together and I just knew this third time around would be something special we could share with each other.  I see her growing and see her getting to find out the gender of her baby, and although I am genuinely excited for her, it's just a huge reminder of what I'm not able to experience because of the loss of our baby.  Last week we could have found out if we were having a boy or a girl.

I guess I always thought having a miscarriage was something that happened, was over, and then people moved on.  I never would have guessed I would be thinking about dates and wondering when I should have felt the baby move for the first time, or when they could open and close their eyes.  I miss my baby and still struggle with trying to make sense of why he or she was taken from us.  I know God's plans are perfect and that He does not make mistakes, but even the comfort of that knowledge sometimes can't take the pain away.

Helllooo out there!

Wowzer!  It has been an incredibly long time since I've posted anything and for that I must apologize.  Summers are always crazy and this one is no exception.  I've had plenty on my mind and plenty that I could have written about, but to be honest every time I sat down at the computer I just could not find the right words.  So today I decided to say "screw it" and even if my thoughts come out as one big jumbled mess that do not make any sense, so be it!

We have had a pretty eventful summer so far, if you can even call it that.  Missoula has been very mild with only a handful of days when the A/C was absolutely necessary.  The old-timer farmers are predicting this is the last week of summer for Montana, which makes me want to go into a downward spiral of depression.  I am not ready to be housebound for the next nine months.

On the upside, we have got to enjoy a few trips to the local water park.  Cale has mastered going down the kiddy slide all by himself which makes Alex and I smile from ear to ear.  Riley, of course, does anything and everything on her own -- with or without our permission.  She is one independent child with no sense of fear.  She climbs up anything, jumps from any height, runs in any direction, and slides down anything worthy of being called a slide.  She makes me incredibly nervous but at the same time I'm so very thankful she has the ability to be so daring.  Cale's trials remind us not to take anything for granted -- even the ability to suck through a straw or eat a popsicle on a hot summer day.  Riley amazes me more and more each day.

Aside from the water park, we just got back from a long weekend up in Big Fork, MT.  My parents rented a condo in the heart of downtown and so we met them up there to enjoy a few days playing in the water and checking out the local Arts Festival.  We rented a boat one of the days and even though the weather was less than ideal, all four of us (myself, Alex, my mom and my dad) got to enjoy some knee boarding and water skiing.  Cale had literally been asking for a "boat" two weeks before we left and so his weekend was MADE by being allowed to ride in the boat.  Riley, on the other hand, took naps in the boat.  She was obviously not as thrilled about the whole thing.  The most enjoyable thing I got to do during the four days we were there was play golf with my dad at Eagle Bend, just the two of us.  I had so much fun and I just wish we were able to do that more often.  We laughed a lot and just got to enjoy an activity that we used to do so often together.  It was a perfect day.

Alex's mom and step-dad are at house right now visiting from Seattle.  Cale and Riley have been spoiled beyond belief with having been with grandparents back-to-back.  Next week will be interesting, for sure.  They leave on Sunday and I think we are heading to Flathead Lake tomorrow to play in the boat some more.  I know that's what Cale's vote is. :)

So there's a very brief update on what we've been up to the past couple of months.  I really want to write about Cale and some of the progress he's made so hopefully I won't wait too long before sharing.

I hope everyone is having a terrific summer and that you are able to enjoy however long is left of it! :)

ALL day and ALL night DATE!!!

Thanks to my incredible and selfless in-laws, they offered to take my two kiddos all day today and let them stay overnight.  Aside from vacations, I have never had a WHOLE day to myself.  I have no idea what I'm going to do but I am just so excited about the many options looming out there!  I may spend all day cleaning my house...or, maybe not.  I may just go to as many stores as I possibly can without having to worry about two kids screaming, throwing tantrums, dropping unnecessary items into the cart, and oh yeah...pretty much needing to speed shop which completely eliminates the option of browsing.  I could browse today!!!!  Oh, the possibilities....

I'm so excited and happy right now I may just pee on myself.

I will let you know what my day consisted of at a later time.

Summer is officially here!

For as many summers as I've lived in Missoula I'm been involved with what used to be called VBS, Vacation Bible School.  Our church puts it on every year and it has since been renamed SAW, Summer Adventure Week.  I haven't been able to get in the habit of calling it SAW because to me that just doesn't sound right.  VBS it is, I'm afraid.

This week is Vacation Bible School up at Missoula Alliance Church.  Hundreds and hundreds of kids pack into the sanctuary everyday, eager and ready to expend all of the energy they kept bottled up during the school year.  These kids are CRAZY!  It's exciting to see and frankly I can't blame them because even now, as a twenty-six year old, I get a little giddy during the first few days of June as I remember how it felt to be a kid to have the whole summer free to do anything and everything except school.  Ahhh, to be a kid again.  As per usual, I am helping out this year which means my life this week is also complete madness.  The feat of getting my kids properly dressed, fed, diapered, and out the door before 8:20 in the morning is ginormous in and of itself.  And that's just the easy part.

My "job" this year is Event Coordinator.  This is my second year doing it and I still don't quite know what all it entails.  I help plan games for the kids to play with the goal being to help each child memorize a certain bible verse.  I help set up drama sets and shuffle kids where they need to be.  All in all it's a pretty simple job.  Even though I'm kind of tethered to one spot the entire week, the perk to that is I get to see ALL the kids at one time or another.  In previous years I've been a Guide and I personally think being a Guide is the best job of all.  My husband is always a Guide.  Guides "supervise" a predetermined group of children for the whole week, which means they basically get to be a kid themselves and get to participate in everything that the kids do.  Lucky.

This year, though, I was also asked to be a speaker who shares the gospel with these kids each and every day.  At first glance I thought it would be fun.  I enjoy speaking in front of people and having a job that would challenge me was really exciting to me.  "Bring it on," I thought.  More days passed and I began to remember the people who did the same job last year and the year before and the year before.  I began to panic knowing that whatever I said had the power to make a child deny the love of Jesus.  What if I said something wrong and this child was forever convinced that there was no God?  My words were the difference between Heaven and Hell.  (Poof!)  That was my dream cloud breaking over my head.  I was being a bit dramatic and it took me awhile, and the words from my husband, to remind me that, yes, my words were important but it was ultimately the Holy Spirit that would bring a child to Christ.  God is more powerful than a word or any sentence that could ever come out of my mouth.  So, I calmed down and slowly started to prepare some ideas for my talk.

But then June 11th happened.  The Friday before the start of VBS.  I was in no mood to proclaim the love of Jesus to anyone, not even to myself.  I didn't feel the love of Jesus and to be honest I was really angry with God.  One reason I don't mind speaking in front of people is because I'm usually passionate about whatever I'm speaking about, but I knew that if I were to get up in front of those kids on Monday morning, it would be blatantly obvious that this God I was supposed to be talking about wasn't as grand as everyone made Him out to be.  I called the director of VBS, who thankfully lives right across the street from us and who is a very good friend to our family, and I told her the thoughts running through my head.  She understood completely and I could tell she could feel my pain.  She cried with me and urged me to do whatever I needed.  I left her house that morning almost certain I wouldn't be speaking to those kids come Monday morning.

Yesterday was Monday and by a power not from myself, I got up in front of those kids and told them about the love of Jesus.  I'm not exactly sure what happened but it just felt like the right thing to do.  I walked into the church that morning with tears bottled up in my eyes.  I was sad.  Sad because I never got to see my baby's face or kiss their tiny toes, but also sad because for a second I had doubted Jesus' love for me.  I'm not sure if anything I've said over the past couple of days will stick with any of the kids but I know the Holy Spirit will do the job even if I can't.

What could have been...

What could have been a post that I had been waiting months to write about sadly turned into one of my worst nightmares this last Friday.

You see, Alex and I were excitedly expecting our third baby!  We had been keeping it a secret from most people, aside from our family and two of our closest friends.  We had tried for a baby for about six months and then decided that maybe we just shouldn't try anymore.  So, I went on birth control but with Alex and I birth control is more like birth guaranteed!  I got pregnant with both Cale and Riley while I was on the pill.  Go figure.  So the first month on birth control we found out we were pregnant!  I remember waking up from a very vivid dream that I was pregnant (which is the exact way I knew I was pregnant with Cale and Riley - from a dream) and so while Alex was taking a shower I rushed downstairs to use the bathroom and take a test.  Low and behold I slowly started to see TWO pink lines appear, which meant I was definitely pregnant.  My first emotion was fright.  I started crying immediately and just like I had done the previous two times, I started shaking and could barely speak.  I ran upstairs and told Alex to get out of the shower.  He initial reaction was that one of our kids must have died because of the look on my face, but when I was finally able to stutter out the words, "I'm pregnant", he got a huge smile on his face, hugged me, and told me that everything was going to be okay.  His reaction and his assurance slowly made me feel okay, too.

From that very moment I started praying for this baby.  I started praying that it would be healthy and that God would help me reach a full-term pregnancy.  I prayed that my pregnancy would be healthy and that we wouldn't encounter any complications.  I prayed that I would be able to slow down and enjoy this pregnancy, because I was able to do that with Riley and I loved every moment of being pregnant with her.  I prayed for a safe delivery and that it would be a perfect, intimate moment for our family.  I prayed for Cale and Riley and that they would just embrace this new life with everything they had.  I prayed all these things EACH and EVERY day from the moment I found out I had someone growing inside of me.  I didn't miss one day.

Alex and I had already chosen names, depending on if we were to have a boy or a girl.  We fell in love with the name Brady if it was a girl, and we decided on the name Tye if it was a boy.  I loved those names.  I was taken aback at how much I already loved this little person growing inside of me.  Perhaps it's because I already have two kids and I see how much I love them, but I had just as much love for this little person that I hadn't even met yet as I do for my two kids who are already here with me.  Even though I was only three months pregnant, I truly felt like I had bonded with this baby even though I wasn't able to feel him or her move inside of me.  I saw their tiny little heartbeat on the ultrasound during my first appointment and even then I cried just knowing how much that little baby was already loved.

Friday, two days ago, I woke up and knew something wasn't right.  I called my doctor and told him what was going on and he assured me everything was probably okay but to come in anyway so that he could put my mind at ease.  I called Alex home from work so that he could watch the kids while I went to the doctor.  I guess in my mind I thought things would be okay, too, because the same thing had happened when I was pregnant with Cale.

When I got there my doctor sat me down and assured me everything was fine.  He went over a few causes as to why these things might be happening and then told me he'd do an ultrasound so that I could see everything was fine.  He got our baby in the center of the computer screen and I knew immediately something was very wrong.  I had seen enough ultrasounds to be able to detect the heart beating and in the picture I was looking at, there was nothing.  No movement from the baby, no beating heart.  My doctor, clearly shocked, poked around for nearly ten minutes trying to find the heartbeat but finally said, "I think you've probably already miscarried."

He left the room to allow me to get dressed and as soon as he closed the door I just broke down into hard sobs.  I wanted Alex to be there; someone to be able to hug me and tell me it was okay.  But I was just all alone, left there to stare at the image on the ultrasound machine of our little baby that had died.

I was nearly twelve weeks pregnant.  Our baby was about the size of a lime.  My doctor gave me two options. 1) Go home and just wait for the "tissue" to pass or 2) have a procedure done, called a D and C, to basically "suck" out the tissue using a machine.  Well, neither of those options sounded very pleasant to me.  I certainly didn't want to just sit and wait for this nightmare to finally come true.  Even though I knew our baby was already dead, there was still a peace inside of me knowing that it was still a part of me.  I didn't want to just see it in the bottom of the toilet.  I also didn't like the second option but I guess I didn't like it the least because that is the option I chose.  That afternoon we checked into the hospital and within about four hours I was able to leave, without my baby.

I'm still in a bit of shock.  I know miscarriages are fairly common but "common" does not mean it is easy.  I'm saddened beyond belief.  I cry at random times throughout the day.  I even get really angry at times.  I literally feel like I have lost one of my children, even though I was never able to see or meet them.

Life feels so different now regardless of the fact that nothing has really changed.  There's just a sadness hanging over our home.  One thing, though, does bring me great joy.  I believe 100%, with all of my heart, that our little baby is celebrating with Jesus in Heaven.  When I walked into our house after coming home from the doctor and learning that we had lost our baby, I buried my head into Alex's shoulders and the first thing he said could not have been more perfect.  He said, "Well, it was the first little Burkhalter to see Jesus' face."

Brady or Tye.  God knows who you are, and I can't wait to meet you on the other side!

Seattle Trip

Last Thursday we packed up and headed towards Seattle.  This was the first time I was excited to make the drive, only because I was so certain that this doctor's appointment was going to give us the answer we had been waiting for.  Our plan was to only go as far as Moses Lake, WA since the drive to Seattle is nearly nine hours if you factor in our two kiddos and the many stops they require.  Our night in Moses Lake was uneventful; the kids slept great due to my husband's grand idea of using the extra mattress to the queen bed as a "wall" to separate us from the kids.  They slept all night and we woke up and hit the road on Friday morning.

We rolled into rainy Seattle around 1:00 and headed to the hospital for a pre-op appointment with the anesthesiologist.  They checked his height, weight, and reminded us of what time we needed to be there on Monday morning.  Seriously?  That's it?  We came all the way here three days early to get his height and weight?  Apparently the staff at Seattle Children's do not care if you are coming in from out of town - they don't mind whose time they waste.  Thankfully, though, Grandma lives in Seattle and so we got to spend a few days with her.  Cale and Riley were spoiled beyond belief and were still asking for Grandma when we pulled into our driveway last night.  What would the world be like without grandmas?

Monday morning was the big day.  We woke up at 5:00am to hopefully beat the rush-hour traffic so that we could be at the hospital by 7:30.  We made it with only a few minutes to spare and pretty soon there were doctors rushing all around, prepping Cale for his procedure.  Alex and I were both pretty calm but definitely anxious for the results.  They only allowed one parent to go back with Cale while they put him to sleep and my dear husband knew I would be a wreck if I was the one who had to wait alone, so he graciously allowed me to go back with him.  Cale screamed and clung to my arm while I lied him down on the bed, obviously terrified beyond belief.  I couldn't hold back the tears any longer and sobbed right in front of him, trying to assure him everything was going to be okay.  I'm sure he saw the fear in my face.  I tried to be strong but I don't think any parent could have watched their child cry that hard, visibly frightened, and not shed a tear.  Cale fought and fought while the nurse tried to keep the mask around his face but after a few minutes he slowly started to give up and then fell fast asleep.  Now the waiting begins.

Alex and I walked up to the cafeteria to grab a bite of breakfast.  Neither of us were that hungry but decided to eat anyway.  We sat at a table but didn't really say anything to each other.  I think we were both a little scared and anxious.  Even though Cale wasn't having surgery, it never feels "okay" to have your child be put to sleep for something.  I can't imagine the parents who have to sit and wait while their child endures a six-hour surgery.  Agony.  After eating, we walked down the hallway and headed towards the waiting area.  A family sat down near us and we noticed that the father had a Griz sweatshirt on and so we made small talk with him for a little bit.  It's funny how small of a world we live in.  After waiting for only about half an hour, the doctor came out and sat down to go over everything with us.  I took a deep breath and for some reason, seeing the look on his face, I knew he wasn't going to give us the answer we were hoping for.

He showed us a few pictures that he had taken and told us that everything he could see looked "normal".  That word, 'normal', makes me want to cry.  Everything is not normal and the more I hear it the more angry I get.  He told us that he took some biopsies and that it would take a couple of weeks to get those results.  The biopsies would tell us if he had any allergies or if there was more inflammation in his esophagus than he could see through the scope.  I'm hoping the biopsies are able to tell us more but at this point I've pretty much lost all hope.

The good news, though, is that they didn't find anything.  The other side of this coin is that the doctor could have seen something that needed fixed with surgery.  I'm learning that rather than trying to find out what is wrong with Cale, this whole process of doctors and procedures is more about eliminating things than finding a diagnosis.  Hopefully someday, with enough eliminations, we will come across something that tells us why Cale is the way he is.  I'm also learning how grateful I need to be to have a husband to go through all of this with.  I can't imagine doing any of this alone and Alex has been my rock since day one.  God definitely knew what He was doing when He brought us together.

So, the search continues.  I'm disappointed we didn't get any answers but at least by eliminating things we are that much closer to finding a cause.

Please sign here, here, here.....aaaand here.

We officially sold our house and bought our new one earlier today.  Papers are signed and money is transferred!  Wahoo!!!!  I had forgotten how much paperwork and hand strength a closing required.  I learned that rather than getting better with my signature the more I sign it, the worse it becomes.  I seriously felt like my hand had a mind of it's own after we were finished.

It still doesn't feel real that we own a new house.  We're still living out of boxes and I have yet to make it my own, which I guess could be part of it, but regardless it is still so fun to wake up in this house each and every morning.  I have already sought out my favorite part of the house, which is the bay window in the living room that overlooks the entire city.  The view from this window is absolutely gorgeous!  We are able to watch the sun go down and see the weather coming in.  Right now all I can see is rain, but on most days you can clearly see the entire valley.  Unfortunately, my kids also love this spot and I have quickly learned that I need to find a close and convenient spot for the Windex, since cleaning off their grimy little hand prints will become a nightly chore. :)

My parents are currently on their way to Missoula to see our house for the first time.  I'm so excited to see them...it feels like it's been forever but in reality it's probably only been a few months.  Cale is really excited to see them, too, which means he is currently screaming in his bed and refusing to take a nap.  Oh, children.

The weather forecast is full of clouds and rain this weekend, which I suppose should be expected of a Memorial Day weekend in Montana.  I think we'll spend most of it indoors and perhaps I can get my mom to help me finish unpacking! :)

I hope everyone has a terrific weekend!!!

The Red Mystery Blob

Today is Thursday, which means I need to wake up expecting chaos.

Our day starts off with me sleeping in as late as I can, until I look over at the clock and tell myself that if I don't wake up RIGHT NOW and get my behind downstairs to wake up my kiddos, feed them breakfast, get their diapers changed and their little bodies clothed, I am going to be late dropping Cale off at school.  It's a God-given miracle that I am able to get myself and my kids out the door before 9:00 AM on any given day, therefore having to be somewhere at 8:45 and actually getting there on time is a direct act of God.

Today was especially challenging, however, because it was pouring sheets of rain!  Buckets, even!  I'm not exactly sure why this change in weather threatened to delay my departure time...perhaps it was because I had to make sure Cale had all the appropriate clothing just in case his teachers decided to lose their minds and take a classroom full of preschoolers outside.  Or maybe it was because the sky was dreary and it made me move a little bit slower than usual.  Regardless, I found it incredibly difficult to get out the door on time.

I made it to Cale's school a few minutes late but the buses were still waiting out front which meant the teachers hadn't come out to help the students off, which further meant I wasn't officially late.  Bonus 'Mom' points for me.  I helped Riley out of the car and her freshly bathed and brushed hair was immediately plastered to her head from all of the rain.  She now looked beautiful, especially with the fat lip protruding from her face. (more on that another time)  By the time I walked Cale and Riley into the school we were soaking wet and looking like a pathetic trio of drowned rats.

After we dropped Cale off, Riley and I spent the next two and a half hours INSIDE.  We cleaned up the house a little and then met a friend at the mall to let our kiddos play so that we could sit for a few moments and enjoy a quiet cup of coffee.  It  never ended up being quiet but the friendship and coffee was exactly what I needed.  Before long it was time to brave the outdoors again and go pick up Cale.

The rain had not stopped and it was still pouring buckets.  I ran with Riley to the front of the school and before I could get to the overhang that would shelter us from the wetness, one of Cale's teachers stopped me with quite a bit of force and very matter-of-factly told me that "my son was a GENIUS!".  She then continued to tell me the long version of how Cale painted a picture today and the teachers around the school had all put bets on what the drawing was.  She told me her interpretation of the drawing was a cowboy getting kissed by his mistress, but other teachers thought it might be a firefighter saving an old woman from a fire.  She was quite sure that coincidences like that don't just "happen" and that Cale might have actually been trying to draw something.  It was a good story but by now Riley and I are completely drenched and Riley is shivering from the cold.

I must say, this teacher's excitement about Cale's drawing perked my curiosity and I was looking forward to getting a peek at it myself once we got home.  Cale must have been very proud of his artwork because he would not let go of the plastic bag that his drawing was wrapped in.  He held onto very tightly the entire car ride home.

When we finally did get home, wet hair and all, I pulled his drawing out of the plastic bag and immediately saw the cowboy kissing a woman.  I'm not convinced it's his mistress but it's a person none-the-less.  I'm certainly not convinced, nor do I believe for a second, that Cale purposefully meant to draw this (HE'S ONLY THREE YEARS OLD, PEOPLE!), but I did proudly hang it on the front of our fridge, which actually says quite a bit because I love having a clean fridge with NOTHING on it.  It's amazing what the pride of a parent can make a person do. :)

Cale still walks around the house and occasionally walks up to the fridge and stares at his beautiful masterpiece.  He squeals in delight at his mystery red blob!

The rest of our day consisted of lunch and speech therapy, but now I have two very exhausted kiddos who are quietly sleeping in their beds.

Ahhh, this is my favorite time of the day. :)

Doctors get paid WAY TOO MUCH money...

...or at least the ones in Missoula do.

I take that back, in part.  I'm sure there are some exceptions to my rule and I really believe there are a handful of doctors out there that deserve every thing that's handed to them, however most of the doctors we've come in contact over the past four years have done NOTHING to advance our search in finding a way to treat my son.  I can't even begin to write about how frustrating and disheartening this is.  I'm left wondering if there is more that I could be doing or if I'm simply too "cooperative" with the medical community and so I'm left targeted as a blazing red bullseye.  There has to be SOMETHING that SOMEONE can do to make it so that Cale doesn't have to go the rest of his life throwing up and writhing in pain.

If you read my post yesterday you can probably gather that our doctor's appointment did not go well.  It was a waste of our time, really.  The pediatrician we saw was more concerned about getting home by 5:00 than listening to my concerns.  He told me that our appointment in Seattle was the "magical appointment" and that I would just have to wait until then.

 So I asked, "Am I supposed to just let my son throw up eight times a day and be miserable for the next three weeks?"

 "Yes, because there's nothing we can do."

OH.  MY.  GOSH.

If I were a person that cursed I'm sure I would have screamed several four-letter words at the response that had just come out of his mouth.  This man of a doctor didn't even let the tears of a young mom phase him.  Again, perhaps his wife threatened that he be home in time for dinner, or else, therefore he couldn't take an extra ten minutes to at least give me a few options of what to do between now and Seattle.  The day I find a doctor who actually takes the time to sit and LISTEN to me, and then make a plan on how to go about finding what may be wrong with Cale, I promise I will bend over and kiss the ground he walks on!

Okay, my rant is over and I even feel a little better.  On a positive note, I haven't actually seen Cale throw up today and even though he was in school for two and a half hours this morning, his teachers didn't mention anything to me.  So I guess I should be grateful and see that as a sign of answered prayer. If you prayed for Cale yesterday, THANK YOU!  For at least this morning, it worked!

Desperation

There seems to always be SOMETHING going on with Cale.  I usually choose not to write about it because if I did, this blog would solely be comprised of the "junk" he has to deal with and even though it's important and a huge part of our lives, focusing on what's "wrong" all the time is simply depressing.  I feel the need, however, to write about what's going on with him today because I'm taking him into the doctor this afternoon out of sheer desperation, and perhaps those of you reading this can offer up a prayer.  Or a lot of prayers.

I've watched Cale over the last eight to ten months get progressively worse in regards to his eating and digesting patterns.  It started out with what I just assumed was really bad reflux.  When the medicines he was on failed to work I was naive in thinking that we just hadn't found the right one.  Initial symptoms that I remember noticing were spitting up every now and then, with an occasional grimace on this face when he had to swallow back down whatever had just come up.  Today, however, the symptoms have progressed to Cale throwing up with EVERY feeding, at least once, and then throwing up two to three times in between feedings.  Aside from losing his breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he has seemed to have lost total control over his body during these episodes.  We've ruled out seizures so we know it's not that, but something is going on his little body that is causing these miserable side effects.  He's resulted to laying down when he plays with toys because I think he feels he has more control of his body in that position.  He can still sit up and walk but when he's having these bouts of whatever is going on, he chooses to lay down and be still.  You can clearly hear gurgling and churning in his stomach that is most noticeable right after he eats or has a drink of water.  He cries because he's in pain but thankfully has not refused to eat.  Whatever is going on is causing GREAT stress in our family because we're obviously worried about Cale, but the physical demands of cleaning up vomit ALL. DAY. LONG is getting to the point of being too much bear.  I HATE watching him suffer like this and I HATE even more that I'm not able to do anything for him.

I see what used to be my happy little boy slowly becoming unhappy in his misery.  He's a trooper and has handled this better than anyone I will ever know, but I'm afraid he will soon "give up"; I certainly would have long before now.

We are scheduled to leave for Seattle on June 4 so that Cale can get "scoped" by the GI (gastroenterologist) doctor but at this rate I don't think we can make it that long.  Cale's regular pediatrician is unfortunately out of the office today and tomorrow and so we will be seeing someone today that doesn't know anything about Cale, so please pray for wisdom for this new doctor.  Please pray that they will take my concerns seriously and that he will quickly develop a heart for treating my son.

Our appointment is at 3:50 this afternoon so I will try and update you after we get home.  THANK YOU for praying!!!

Goings On and Happenings...

Wow, I feel like it's been FOREVER since I last posted anything about anything.  I wonder if anyone ever reads the small amount of things I have to say???  Well, even if there is only one of you out there that decides to stop by this site, I suppose I will talk to you.  Thank you for being so faithful!

Last Wednesday Alex and I finally moved into our new house!  I must admit that I didn't allow myself to get very excited about moving until it actually happened, but now that it has, I am overjoyed and so excited about our new home!  I love waking up in this house and I cannot wait to make it our own!  The kids have done amazing with this new transition and have had so much fun exploring their different surroundings.  In fact, yesterday I had to stop by our old house to grab a few things and Cale pointed to the house and shook his head "no", only to smile again until we pulled into the driveway of our new house.  I guess that means we get a stamp of approval from him.  Our new house has at least twice the square footage of our old one and I have been pleasantly surprised to find that we don't have enough stuff to fill this house.  I even have bare cabinets, with NOTHING in them, in our kitchen!  Not to mention an actual room to do our laundry, rather than having to transfer and fold clothes in the hallway.  It is simply marvelous.  Dreamy, even.  This is the perfect house to have my kids grow up and remember as their first home.

Our best friends coincidently sold their house the very same day we did and just yesterday put a house under contract.  I am very excited for them and can't wait to help them move.  (moving other people's stuff is far more exciting and less stressful than moving your own, because at the end of the day you can just leave it and don't have the overwhelming task of unpacking it all!)

My parents are coming to visit Memorial Day weekend and I'm excited that they will finally have an actual room and bathroom to themselves.  I'm sure that will make their visits a tad more comfortable since they previously had to sleep on an air mattress in the middle of our living room floor. :)  For any of you readers that don't live here in Missoula, if you ever find yourself in this beautiful city and don't have a place to stay, our home is always available. :)  Seriously.

In other news, Riley has started asking A LOT of questions.  "What are you doing?", and "Why?" seem to be her favorite.  I think some parents might get annoyed by such inquiries, but I have found myself loving it and thinking that she just might be the smartest kid to ever walk the planet. :)  I think it's due to the fact that I've never had the experience of Cale asking me a hundred questions like most all toddlers do, and so now that I have one that is acting like her actual age, I am just amazed at her brilliance.  I'm amazed at Cale's brilliance, too...just in different ways. :)

We head to Seattle in a few weeks for another doctor appointment for Cale.  If you find yourself with nothing to pray about or just want to add something else to your list, please pray that this doctor will find SOMETHING and that there will be a simple way to treat it.  Thank you!