A day at the river and funny Nora ...

Nora has been stuck to me like glue. I needed some space. So I put on a show for her then went in my room and locked the door (like all good moms). Not five minutes later, there is a knock on my door. "Go awayyy!" I moaned. The small voice talking into the crack of the door replied, "No, it's just me, Nora. Mommy, it's just me, Nora." And of course the cuteness of that was enough to get me to unlock my door and allow her to resume her position of trying to crawl back into my uterus. 

But we did dye easter eggs today. And we played at the river. And we set up the bounce house/water slide thing. So I don't feel too terrible about trying to lock myself in my room.

Going gray

I guess I feel like I need to write this in order to avoid possible awkward conversations. But by writing this, there is a good chance I'm creating even more opportunities for awkward conversations. Whatever. These thoughts keep swirling around my head and until I put them to paper they won't stop.

My mom found my first gray hair before I was even in my teens. She found it hilarious and unbelievable that there was a gray hair on my head. But, she reminded me, Mary was born with her first gray hair. She plucked it out, and I didn't think much of it. Then by the time I was teenager there were several grays popping up here and there. I didn't think it was a sign of aging since I knew I was only 16. And they weren't very visible. Though around this time I did start highlighting my hair. If I wasn't having it professionally done, I was using sun-in and laying out in the backyard, like every other teenage girl of the 00's. There was also the time my mom and I got a new box at the drugstore and my hair turned bright orange. Sebastian's fixed me right up. The point is, back then dying my hair was for fun and it helped my lack of confidence I had in myself back then. Nothing a fresh cut and color to make a girl feel fantastic.

Fast forward throughout my 20's, and the grays increased, but I never knew by how much because dying my hair had become a regular thing. Sometimes from a box, sometimes a splurge at the salon. But stopping never seemed like an option. I told myself I enjoyed it. "Self care". It was fun to change it up once in a while. My hair had been every natural shade from blonde, to almost black, with occasional reds thrown in once in a while.

Entering my 30's, I played around with the idea of just letting it go gray. I posted a picture of my roots on Instagram and asked for honest opinions. The overall response was "DYE IT!" With a few exceptions who said I should whatever makes me feel comfortable and happy. I decided to dye it.

Then my daughters (9 and 7) started asking me if they could dye their hair. They both have gorgeous hair with natural highlights. I told them, "No way. God made your hair to match you just right... but maybe when you're older if you still want to."

"Well then why do you dye your hair? Didn't God make your hair just the right color?" Kids will always call you on your hypocrisy.

"I have to dye my hair. It's gray. When your hair is gray then you can talk to me about dying it." As the words left my lips I internally cringed. When did dying my hair stop being about "self-care" and become something I had to do.

I asked Aaron what he thought about me not dying my hair anymore.

"Whatever babe. You can never stop being beautiful to me, no matter what color your hair is." I knew I married him for a reason. Seriously, he is the best.

So it's been a few months now since I last dyed my hair. I tried a few times before but then always when it got to about where it is now, I would dye it again. This is the longest I've ever gone without dying my hair.

And when I see how much gray I have I am astonished. But I'm also, like, really excited. I don't know how to explain it.

To me, my gray hair is a physical reminder of the time I've been alive. Each day really is a gift, and getting old is a privilege denied to many. So I am grateful for the visual reminder of aging.

Then there's this feeling of self acceptance. This is me. This is who I am. I do not need to cover it up. I don't need to apologize to anyone for having to look at my gray hair. I literally had to stop myself from doing this.

I also feel like a trendsetter. Just a couple of years ago I literally felt like going gray was not even an option. I couldn't even consider it. "Why would you let yourself look like that? A box of hair dye literally costs like $8." This was the tape inside my head. I want to be an example for other woman, to let them know, Hey this is an option! And you can still look and feel beautiful. That was another reason I had given my girls. That dying my hair helped me feel good about myself. Their thoughtful questions, "Why don't you feel good about yourself if your hair is gray?" really got me thinking.

So there you have it. A million reasons why I'm done dying my hair. 

I supposed a blog post like this deserves a picture. This one doesn't quite do my gray justice, but its the best I've got. My hair grows incredibly slow, so I am sure it will be a long time before my decision is really that obvious.

When life is absolutely insane sometimes I just stop and write...

This is one of those times. And I don't have much time to write but I'm going to write as much as I can before someone needs something. Someone always needs something.

Aaron's dad had a stroke last week. Apparently there are lots of sub-categories when it comes to strokes, and his was of the really bad variety. He is still with us, but recovering very, very slowly. I won't go into all of the details of what's going on, but he is still in the ICU. So the day of The Stroke, I also had an appointment for Matthew with a developmental pediatrician. So Aaron went to Mesa to be with his family and I went to Tucson, and my life-saver BFF, Nancy took care of everyone else.

Matthew is slightly developmentally delayed but they didn't give me any kind of diagnosis besides that. Recommended I follow up with ENT for his mouth breathing. And their test results showed his language is about a 9 month old development, but his cognitive ability was at 15 months (he's 18 months) so I was happy to hear that. And he is talking more and more every day, and understanding more as well. One of their "concerns" was that he didn't play appropriately with toys. Like they wanted him to feed this bear with a fake spoon. He threw the bear across the room. Then threw the food. In his defense, that might sometimes be what it looks like when I feed all of these children.

So Aaron spent two days in Mesa. Then worked for two days. Then we packed up and went back to Mesa for two days. Then we went to Disneyand. Disneyland has been planned for a few months, and we didn't get travelers insurance, so figured Dad would want us to go anyway. So we went. And it was great. Overall. There were hard moments. Eliza was sick with a fever and sore throat. Nora threw up in the car on the way there. But we laughed until our bellies hurt, and the last day the crowds were so low we were able to walk on most rides. Which is always a rare treat at Disneyland. I literally had to spend all day yesterday doing as little as possible to gear up for this weekend.

What's this weekend, you ask. Well, I'm driving back up to Mesa to see Dad and visit Mom. And the kids are off from school on Monday as well so we'll spend some time Saturday-Monday. Then I'm bringing Ammon and Ruth's kids home with me so they can enjoy Ammon's graduation from chiropractic college without worrying about lugging the kids along. Then next weekend I'll bring them back home (or possibly meet someone in Gila Bend because Saturday night is a daddy daughter dance that Aaron really wants to bring the girls to).

So I'm sitting here next to a suitcase and a pile of laundry. The last two weeks have been so crazy with so much traveling. And next week will be crazy with cousin fun. And then we'll have a couple of weeks of peace, I hope. Then I'm taking Olivia to Universal Studios for her birthday. And then the kids are off the first week of April, and we'll probably spend it in Mesa.

It is crazy how life can change in an instant. My mother and father-in-law had plans to come with us to Disneyland. They had errands they were going to run that day before they left. They were supposed to be going to Ammon's graduation together next week. It's just so hard and so sad. I keep thinking about how we chug on through life, and have no clue when some major thing will happen and just change everything. Can't dwell on that too much, but it's hard not to when something like this happens and that reality kind of slaps you in the face.

Here's some pictures of disneyland.

Eliza is 5!

Eliza turned 5 a couple of weeks ago. We celebrated 3 times. We happened to be in Mesa the weekend before her birthday so we had a last minute cousin party. Then on her actual birthday I made her a special dessert, she got the special birthday treatment, and we had a pretty great day. Then she had her birthday party with friends from school and church and lucky for us, cousins again! She has the funniest little mind. Here are some funny recent quotes,

"Now that we had my party - I'm OFFICIALLY 5!" -- apparently the first two celebrations were nothing.

"Mom - I just love Satan a teenie tiny bit. Like, I think he'll be fine, once he just calms down." -- This one had me stifling my laughter so much. I wasn't even sure how to handle this. I just see it as her sweet way of seeing the good in everything. But also, how she freaks out sometimes and then calms herself down pretty quickly (most of the time).

"Mom, is it okay if I love you more than Jesus? I know I should love Jesus more than anyone, but I love you a tiny bit more." Yes, yes that is okay darling one. I love how much this girl loves Jesus though. She talks to Him a lot and reminds me a lot of my childhood self.

This one is from a few weeks ago after I told her we were going to go play with her best friends (who had recently turned 5). "Kimi and Kami don't even care about me anymore. Why would they care about a 4 year old when they're 5?!" She was happy to see that they did indeed still care about her. But she was absolutely thrilled to turn 5 and make their bond that much stronger.

Though she has been wishing she could turn back time so she can turn 5 again. She has loved getting cards, going shopping and all of the parties. I really will miss this girl so much when she goes to kindergarten in August.

I do a lot of stuff wrong as a mom. I yell when I should probably hug. I don't give time outs when I probably should. And I shut down emotionally when I should I probably open up.

 But I think I do fun really well.

The other day it rained here. That is a rarity here in Yuma so it always brings happiness to almost everyone. I took Nora and Matthew with me to the gym, and when it was getting close to time to leave I decided to leave a few minutes earlier than I had to so that we could jump in all the puddles on the way to the car.

When we're walking through a store and Eliza proclaims that stepping on a red tile means you die, and a purple tile is worth extra life, you bet I'll hop on one foot to avoid the red tile like the plague.

When we walk past a ledge, I can't help but climb up and balance across -- with my little kids following behind.

Messes don't bother me much. Taking time to have fun is always worth it.

I hope and pray that this is what my kids remember when they grow up, instead of the yelling and craziness.

The Court Story

I am not sure how much I'm legally allowed to share, but I don't remember them saying the whole thing about this being closed and not to say anything so I'm assuming it's fine. I'll leave out names and stuff just in case, but I want to document everything for my own memories.

I have spent countless hours stressing about testifying. Honestly I was more worried about that than losing Matthew. I was fairly confident no judge would send my baby away to someone he hardly knew - though we all hear the horror stories, so I had a smidge of doubt. I was just scared of what I was going to say, how I was going to say it, how it might hurt his bio mom's feelings, etc. etc. 

So my heart was just racing as Aaron and I sat holding hands in the car before going into the courthouse. As usual with court, Aaron's hands were cold as ice. Apparently that's what happens when he's super nervous. I held his icy hand to my cheek and look into his eyes and told him we were going to be okay. We said a prayer and I felt oddly peaceful. 

Once we got into the courthouse I immediately took note that no one from mom's side was there. No aunt, no mom, no lawyer. We were brought into the court room where I half expected to see them, but no one was there. We waited a little over a half hour and only the lawyer showed up. She apologized that she told her client court started at 9, because she had mistakenly wrote down 9 herself. So we continued to wait, and wait for what felt like forever. I started fuming inside that they were giving her so much time, asked people to call her etc. However the judge finally decided to just proceed. He also informed us that the aunt could not get bus tickets because the tickets were sold out when she tried to buy them on Monday. Just hearing that was like a huge weight lifted. I also couldn't help but see Heavenly Father's hand so clearly in this journey. Not only were we going to get to keep Matthew, but I didn't even have to step foot on the stand. 

As we continued to go through the legal proceedings I had the thought of what an odd labor this was. Obviously not pregnant - and not a perfect analogy at all - but the feelings of waiting, anticipation of a person joining your family, those were all there. I also don't understand legal jargon very well at all and I was only half sure of what was happening.

The lawyer for the State motioned to just forgo the trial, keep the baby where is he, and proceed without going through with the trial. The judge agreed, and even though I just summed that up, that's not exactly what was said, and so I was looking over at the lawyers and the one lawyer who is the baby's GAL, who I've had the most contact with, looked at me and told me to breathe now. I cried and breathed, and cried. 

The baby's paternal grandmother came to court just to be there, for us. I was so touched by that and grateful to have her there. She gave me a huge hug after and thanked me and told me how wonderful I am and how glad she is that we'll get to keep him. She came back to our house afterwards and played with the baby for a bit and brought him Christmas presents and spoiled my own kids with lots of candy. She is such a sweetheart and I'm excited to have her as part of family as well.

I won't lie. Until we have that official adoption paperwork complete there is a bit of a cloud of fear still hanging over our heads. I know it's completely unnecessary, and everything that's left is just technical stuff, but I can't wait until it's all completely over.

But for now we're celebrating. For the last 17 months we've juggled bio parent visits. Our entire lives have revolved around accommodating this visit schedule. Making sure he was perfectly clean, well dressed and ready to go on time. Often to find out at the last minute that the visit was canceled. Or forgetting about a visit and the stress of not having him "visit ready" and worrying if a call would be put in to DCS because he had a wet diaper or food on his clothes (which YES has happened). Even 4 year old Eliza asked, "So this means no more visits??" and was thrilled to find out that yes, no more visits. 

Eliza's funny

I told Eliza tomorrow was the last of the year. She dramatically wailed and cried.

"What? Why are you sad??" I asked, clearly confused.

"Now it will NEVER be my birthday!" she sobbed.

"What? Yes, your birthday is still just 22 days away." I said, still confused.

"No! You said it's the LAST DAY!"

"OF THE YEAR YOU GOOSE, NOT ALL TIME!" And then I proceeded to laugh, while Eliza wiped her tears.

"Huh?" She asked.

And then I went on to explain that it was the last of the calendar year, and it will be 2019, and it will be January so her birthday will be even closer. Though I really had to laugh that her response to thinking it was the last day, ever, for all time, was that she would miss her 5th birthday.


And a few days earlier...

Eliza - "Mom, I think I have it all figured out. Grandma and Grandpa are daddy's mom and dad. And Nan and Pop are your mom and dad."

"Yep. That's right."

E - "But then who is Nan and Pop's mom and dad? JESUS??"