Ramblings on Cale...

Last night I had a "fly on the wall" moment. I have wished many times throughout my lifetime that I could have one of these but now that I have, I give Life permission to never give me one ever again.

I was sitting amongst a group of high school students, in the front row of about ten, and so I could easily hear the mumblings and grumblings of the forty or fifty students behind me. On this particular evening, the students were being asked to volunteer to read some scripture that was projected on a big screen in front of them. Acting like typical high schoolers, very few wanted to volunteer. There was one boy, however, that raised his hand at nearly every opportunity offered. As he read more and more words, I noticed that he had a slight speech impediment. By slight, I mean that you could easily understand what he was saying but you could definitely notice that some letters weren't pronounced correctly. In my mind I applauded this boy for volunteering so many times, even though it was difficult for him to read through the sentences without stumbling over words. For the other high school students, though, his struggle was simply bait for criticism and ridicule. Thankfully, their gestures were mumbled under their breath and I don't think this boy ever noticed, although I'm sure he's had his fair share of embarrassment and hurt in the past. In the setting of a church youth group I was appalled that these students could still be so harsh, which left me wondering what the environment at his school must be like for him.

I suppose I'm a little hyper-sensitive to this topic due to the recent events of the last few years of my life. It's a no-brainer that Cale will endure the same criticism and ridicule I witnessed last night. He will be teased and laughed at and I'm sure there will be people that pass him by without even noticing his existence. This pains me only because I know that even though Cale will appear to be different, he's just like any other kid on the inside. He has emotions and will undoubtedly be hurt by the taunting and teasing of his peers. As his mom, it will take supernatural self-control not to lash out at these people. Like I've said before, I dread the day when Cale asks me why he is different from the other kids at his school. How do you convince a child that God is good even through the stares, mocking, and torture that they deal with on a daily basis?

One thing that is near impossible for me to admit is that I easily could have been one of those high schoolers making fun of the boy who kept volunteering to read. I vividly remember seeing and being around students with disabilities and waking on eggshells around them, thinking that they were somehow less human than I. I specifically remember a boy who was in my class from second grade until I graduated with him. He stuttered...a lot. It sometimes took him a whole minute to get past one word. My friends and I avoided him and would often poke fun when he was called on to read aloud in class. We were cruel, plain and simple. I never did any of this to his face but I'm positive he noticed our jeers.

To the defense of the high school students I was around last night, they probably just don't know any better. It took having a child with a disability of my own that ended up changing my heart. Which leads me to a long list of things that Cale has taught me during the short two years I have known him. I want to list just a few of those things below:

• He's taught me to be far less judgmental. Every person has a story behind them and rather than pass them off without another thought, my heart fills with compassion instead of judgment.
• He's taught me not to sweat the small stuff. So what if a child learns to walk at ten months and another learns to walk at eighteen months. Just be thankful they can walk. And heaven forbid a baby isn't weened of the bottle at exactly a year. They will eventually kick the habit when all of their peers in kindergarten start teasing.
• He's taught me how to grieve and yet still hold hope for tomorrow.
• He's taught me that perseverance and determination are two very important qualities for reaching your goals.
• He's taught me that having the mindset of "I think I can, I think I can, I think can" really does work.
• He's taught me that love won't always heal all wounds.
• He's taught me that I'm much stronger than I ever thought I could be.
• He's taught me that a marriage can easily turn ugly without God in it.
• He's taught me to fully appreciate the term "healthy".
• He's taught me the importance of listening when someone is suffering.
• He's taught me that I have God-given gifts that I never even knew about.
• He's taught me what unconditional love looks like in human form.
• He's taught me what "fearing the Lord" is.
• He's taught me that in the midst of suffering, there truly is a rainbow waiting for us on the other side.
• He's taught me that God has even wackier plans than I originally thought.
• He's taught me that I should never underestimate the power of family and friends.
• He's taught me that grief comes and goes but the pain never does. Just because someone might have lost a loved one ten, twenty, or thirty years ago doesn't mean the pain still doesn't live with them.

I really could go on and on. Cale has enriched our lives in so many, crazy ways. I still don't know what God has in store for him and maybe never will, but I do know that He is using the situation we're in for good. I'll never find myself not wishing that Cale were normal but I am grateful for him and for the fact that he's made me a better person.

I'm also proud to say that I'm confident he's made every person he's come in contact with a better person, too.

August already?

I can hardly believe it is already August. August! I still get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach that brings me back to the days when the first of this month meant the beginning of school was only a few weeks away. August is still just a little bit depressing to me for that very exact reason.

Our summer has been extremely busy, which is kind of weird since we literally had zero plans at the start of it. We have spent several weekends at the lake which has been both a lot of work and absolutely delightful. It's always some amount of work to travel anywhere with two kids, especially when "camping" means sharing a small amount of space with four people. And never underestimate the amount of space and STUFF two little people actually need. I'm sure our neighbors thought we were leaving for months at a time when they saw us loading our car. We still have a few weekend get-aways planned, including a trip to Spokane this weekend for Alex's sister's wedding and then a mini family reunion with my side of the family in Big Sky in late August. We are going to take a day trip into Yellowstone National Park then because Alex has never been. Can you believe a person who has lived in Montana for nearly fifteen years has never been to Yellowstone? That is simply un-American if you ask me.

Being so busy this summer has proven to me that just because things with Cale are difficult, it doesn't necessarily mean things have to be impossible for him. Even though Alex and I haven't said this out loud, we refuse to put limitations on his life due to his disability. I think a year ago we would have made excuses as to why going to the lake or taking trips overnight were just too hard, but we've gone full steam ahead this summer and for that I am very proud. It's not to say that things haven't been hard and that those same emotions of self-pity haven't reared their ugly heads, but we've done it and had much success. Watching Cale find so much joy in swimming and driving the boat, playing in the sand and swinging from a rope swing, splash in the water and ride a wave runner has been the best reward we could ever ask for. He is such a happy kid and there really is nothing better than being able to watch your children be happy.

I also just have to say that we've had tons of help from our friends. We are so lucky to have friends that just "get it". They will take Cale and entertain him while we take a break to play with Riley, or even better they will take both of our kids to let Alex and I have a few minutes to ride the wave runner, water ski, or simply sit and have alone time. We are truly blessed to have friends that love us, and better yet, who love our kids. What would we do without them?!

Speaking of alone time, Alex's mom and dad took both kids overnight a few weekends ago. I cannot even begin to describe how much I looked forward to a night with just my husband. We truly acted like we did when we first started dating and in doing so I fell in love with him all over again. We had planned on going out to a nice dinner but at the last minute changed our minds and went to the local Pita Pit. We sat and watched the interesting folk that inhabit downtown Missoula which really could have been enough entertainment for the rest of the evening, but we decided to head to the mall to see if they had any good deals on summer clothes. (After all, we are headed to Cabo in February! More on that later) Going to the mall hardly says 'romantic' but we were both surprised at how much fun we ended up having. I think most of our fun was had when we decided to blow a dollar and buy a lottery ticket. Alex and I have now purchased two lottery tickets in our lifetime and each time we do, we end up buying at least ten dollars worth of entertainment. We were so sure we were going to win. So sure. So sure, in fact, we had already planned what we would buy with our millions. Dreams of extravagant cars and closets full of shoes raced through our heads. We planned trips and thought up ways to tell our family and friends of our newfound fortune. Sadly, however, all of our dreams were crushed when we got home and saw that our numbers were indeed not the winning numbers. Crap. Maybe next time. And the crazy part is that I'm almost positive there will be a next time. The highlight of our date night, though, came the following morning. We woke up around 5:45, got dressed, and headed to the golf course. That's right, the golf course! Most of you know that I used to spend all of my summers either working at or playing on the golf course. My only summer chore used to be having to practice. Those were the good 'ol days. Anyway, ever since we had kids I am ashamed to admit that I have only stepped foot on a golf course a handful of times. The longer I go without playing the more I miss it, which is why the only thing I wanted to do during our time without our kids was to play golf. And what better time is there to play than really early in the morning when the grass is freshly mowed and the the presence of dew leaves footprints on the greens. Even though it had probably been over a year since I last played, everything was pretty much as I remembered it, from the way I habitually plucked my golf glove off finger by finger and stuffed it into my back pocket to the way I twirled the club before stepping on the tee box. Man, I miss that game. We had so much fun together and it was so refreshing to just be husband and wife without the header of "mom and dad" proceeding us.

Here's to enjoying the last few weeks of summer!

The Lord knows me best...

Riley's birthday came and went without incident. In fact ,the Lord gave me a blessing in disguise, although for the record I'm not sure it was any easier than just crying all day long.

On Wednesday evening, the day before her birthday, Riley was running an innocent low-grade fever. She has been cutting teeth left and right and so I figured that was the reason behind her temperature. When I went to wake her up on Thursday with camera in tow (I wanted to get the first picture of the birthday girl), she was standing up in her crib, face as red as a tomato, SCREAMING, and eyes sunken into her face. She most definitely was not the cuddle bug I had accepted to see. I picked her up and she was almost too hot to touch. I took her temperature and it was 104.5 degrees. Hmm. That's not good.

If Riley had been my first child I probably would have panicked and called our pediatrician immediately, but I knew that a little bit of Tylenol would bring her fever down and hopefully renew her spirits. I, of course, was bummed that she was sick on her birthday but I quickly learned that all a baby wants to do when they're sick, or at least MY sick baby, is cuddle! She clung to me like a moth to a flame all day long and it was wonderful. Her fever broke for short periods of time so that she could splash in our pool, play with her toys, but she spent the majority of the time in my arms. There is nothing better than a sick child who just wants to be held by their momma. Granted, I would have rather not had her be sick but since she was, it was a great way to celebrate her birth.

There was another perk to her being sick. I was so consumed with taking care of her that I completely forgot about the whole emotional time bomb I was so sure would come yesterday. I never cried and I never felt sad that she was no longer my little baby. The day, although nothing like I had imagined, was perfect.

Now we just have to look forward to her birthday party tomorrow. Hopefully she feels well enough to dive into her cake and make me question why letting a one year-old eat an entire cake by themselves is a fun idea.

In summary, I think God knew that by not allowing Riley to get sick on her birthday I would probably just fester in the fact that years go by too quickly, but instead He gave me a situation that occupied my mind so that it couldn't wander to those thoughts. He's so smart.

24 Hours and Counting...

It was at about this time last year that I got a call from my doctor asking if I wanted to put an end to my misery and get induced the following day at 7:00 AM. It took me about three nanoseconds to respond, "YES, please!" I was actually walking through Target looking for drugs to hopefully promote natural induction and so the timing of his phone call could not have come at a more appropriate time. After I hung up my cell phone I was hit with the reality of, "Holy crap, I am going to have a baby tomorrow!" I remember the rest of that day was filled with giddy feelings of excitement, lots and lots of laundry, and precious quiet moments with my son. A part of me was sad that it would no longer be just him and me, but I will always remember that day when he fell asleep in my arms right before I put him down for his nap and I was able to just hold him and tell him that even though we were having another baby, he would always be my first love.

You all are probably getting sick and tired of reading about my thoughts and emotions regarding Riley's first birthday. I kind of am, too, frankly. For whatever reason, though, I am having a hard time accepting that she will be one year old tomorrow, and I'm pretty positive I will not make it through the day without crying. When did I turn into that woman? And by that woman, I mean the woman that gets all sentimental and emotional over each milestone in her children's lives. I promise you that I used to be the girl that when asked if I wanted to keep any "souvenirs" from the NICU to remember our days spent there with Cale, I immediately scoffed and thought any of that would just produce unnecessary clutter in my house -- no thank you! I take lots of pictures but don't see a need for baby books or scrapbooks of any kind. I threw away both Riley's and Cale's first footprints from the hospital. See, I am not that woman!

I have one theory as to why Riley's first birthday is so different from Cale's but who knows if it would stand up in court. My theory is this: Cale's first year was traumatizing, simple as that. Other than the joy we felt when we were able to bring him home from the hospital, I really can't remember any significant stretches of time during those twelve months when we could just sit back and enjoy our first born. We were always at the doctor, always trying to force food in him, always worried, always stressing, always grieving, etc., etc., etc.. With Riley, though, aside from the first few weeks when we were adjusting to our life with two kids, it has been pure joy through and through. She's made parenting easy and loving her even easier. She's done exactly what she was supposed to exactly when she was supposed to do it without any intervention from Alex, me, or any therapists. She's been normal and consequently it has allowed us to have a normal experience of raising her. Please do not take this the wrong way, however. Even though her first year was dramatically different from Cale's, I would not change the course our life has taken for the world! Cale is the only one that could have taught us to appreciate this last year like we have. I look up to that little guy and he's only two years old.

So tomorrow is the big day. Alex's mom from Seattle is flying in tonight and will be with us until Sunday. I think we will just have a low-key day tomorrow, maybe taking a trip to the park, but on Saturday we will have Riley's big party with all of her friends. I'll really be a loser if I cry then. What kind of parent cries at their baby's first birthday party?

Dear Riley,

You are one year old tomorrow. You won't truly be able to appreciate the speed of a year until one day when you have kids, but just take my word for it -- a year goes by so quickly! It would be impossible to express to you how much I love you and I feel powerless to even try. Just know that I love you so incredibly much and there will never be anything that changes that. My love is forever. You have added so much joy to both your father's and my life. You constantly have us laughing, and even amidst your meltdowns and tantrums, I hold you close and never want to let go. Your personality has developed into something so vibrant and colorful -- you already have all the qualities to succeed in anything you choose to do in this life. You are persistent, brave, fearless, sometimes stubborn, and very affectionate. You have acquired several nicknames during the past twelve months, most of which have been given to you by your father. Deano, The Dean, Little Miss, and probably the most fitting, Drama Queen. I'll be interested to see which nicknames stick and which ones will be added years from now. One thing you probably don't know about yourself is that you are a very important little sister. You have taught your big brother so much this last year and I can only assume he will continue learning from you year by year. You are not always the nicest to him but I can tell that he loves you and watches you with incredible awe. You don't know it yet, but you are already rich in spirit from having a brother like him. He's the best and so are you. I have many prayers for your life such as marriage, education, friendships, etc., but my main prayer for you is this: I pray that you will learn to love Jesus and that you will understand the sacrificial love He has for you. I pray that you'll walk with Him daily and you will seek Him and only Him for love and acceptance. Your father and I chose a verse for your life and it is this: Zephaniah 3:17 "The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing." I love you, Riley, and from the moment you came into this world I have loved you. I will never stop. Thank you for being such a pure and complete blessing. Happy Birthday.

WOW

I cannot believe I just scripted an entire post about breast feeding. Wow.

To Wean or Not to Wean?

Riley's 1st birthday is less than ten days away and I'm just now starting to seriously consider weaning her from my breast. (excuse my vulgar language!) This whole concept of breast feeding was nothing like I had imagined.

When Cale was born at 31 weeks gestation, it was encouraged by the NICU nurses and doctors to wait until at least 35 weeks to introduce breast feeding. Being that Cale was in an incubator and hooked up to multiple wires and tubes, I desperately longed during those four weeks to experience something so intimate with my baby boy. Long story short, I worked harder at trying to get him to breast feed than I have worked at anything in my whole life! During the eight weeks he remained in the hospital and then into the first two months he was at home, I battled and fought with all my might to succeed at what I thought should have been so natural and easy. It was our pediatrician that finally had to sit me down and tell me that breast feeding was just not going to happen for us. I cried but then finally realized that whatever was best for my baby was what I ultimately wanted to do. Bottles and formula quickly invaded our life and we got through it just fine.

Needless to say, when Riley was born I was hopeful she would be a pro at breast feeding. I stressed and cried during the first few weeks when feedings appeared to be more work than enjoyment, not to mention painful, but eventually Riley and I got into a good groove and the rest is history. She is days away from her first birthday and even though I panicked at three months, six months, and nine months that I would never have enough milk to make it another day, here we are in a predicament that I never thought I would find myself in.

Before I had kids, I have to admit, I felt a little awkward when I saw a mother feeding her baby underneath a blanket, or heaven forbid, with everything hanging out there for the world to see. I never thought a mother should be stripped of her rights to feed her baby, but I shamefully admit I thought they should at least have the decency to go into a bathroom. (please don't hate me) However, now that the tables have been turned and I am now the mother feeding her baby, I believe mothers should have the right to feed their children wherever, whenever, and without the need to cover up. You can agree or disagree but those are my thoughts.

Breast feeding, for me, is so much more than giving my baby a meal. It's a time to bond, a time to comfort, and a time to love up my baby girl. I never thought it would be so emotional for me and I never thought I would "miss" breast feeding, especially during those first few weeks when the pain was almost more than I could bear.

So, I'm at a crossroad. On one hand, I selfishly want to continue feeding her for as long as I can, but on the other hand, I definitely do not want to be that mother that allows her child to eat after they walk up and lift up her shirt. That to me will be the breaking point. I have absolutely nothing against people that breast feed their kids past their first year, but I have nightmares that Riley will be a teenager and can remember the days when she ate from Mommy's boob. No thank you.

I still have eight days.

Little Miss Riley

Why is it that when I was younger a year was a time span my mind couldn't even comprehend, but now that I am older a year is merely a blink of my eye? I remember basing a year on the length of time between one Christmas and another, and if you love Christmas as much as I do, you can remember how incredibly long it took for it to come again. Years were so much longer back then.

My little Miss Riley is turning one year old in less than ten days! I seriously have no idea how this is even possible. It really does seem like yesterday when we first brought her home. It won't be long before we're sending her off to college...

Riley is a true joy. She has the best personality out of anyone I have ever known. She makes me laugh and she is sure to put a smile on just about anyone's face. All in all she has been a happy baby and if Alex and I hadn't previously decided on only have two children, she sure would have made it easy to want a third. I remember fearing I wouldn't have enough love to give her since I thought my "love cup" was already overflowing with my love for Cale, but God truly does have the ability to grow your heart bigger and give you more love than you ever imagined possible. There are days when I go to bed missing my kids and wishing for morning to come sooner so that I can see them again. (please note: there are definitely days when bedtime can't come fast enough and morning comes way too soon!)

Riley's first year has been a roller-coaster ride. I remember going back and forth between fear and doubt on whether or not she was "normal". I still, in fact, struggle with this but it was definitely more of a battle during her first six months of life. I was constantly obsessing over if and when she was reaching her milestones, pestering Cale's therapists with constant streams of questions, and having heart-to-heart discussions with myself on why it doesn't do any good to worry. I have these heart-to-hearts with myself on a fairly regular basis. :) I've recently been struggling with Riley's newfound love with walking. It is so fun to see her toddle around and watch the look of pride on her face, but on the other hand, out of the corner of my eye I am watching Cale's reaction. My heart breaks for him knowing that he must be wondering why walking comes so easy to her when it is such a struggle for him. I pray that he doesn't get frustrated by this and that it only motivates him to reach his independence more quickly. Along this note, Riley has been so good for Cale! I was told before she was born that normal developing children are often great teachers to their siblings but I never really fully grasped that concept until I experienced it first-hand. Riley, I believe, has taught Cale many things from something as little as learning to love baths, to bigger things such as communicating and interacting with his world. I choose to believe Riley will continue to be a great teacher to her big brother until one day when Cale can hold his own. And I do believe that day will come.

All in all, Riley's first year was nothing like I had imagined. I thought I would show up at her first birthday with my hair standing on end, my face wrinkled from stress, and two different shoes on the wrong feet. Turns out I fared pretty well.

For some reason I am more emotional about her turning one than I was with Cale. I recently looked through pictures of her when she was first born and it took everything in me not to start crying. I'm not sure if this is due to the fact that she is most likely our last child and so I'm grieving over never having a newborn again, or if it's just one of the many differences I will experience with having a boy and a girl.

Girls are drama and my little Miss Riley is no exception. Drama should have been her middle name.