Laundry Lamentation

This post is actually something I wrote 3 1/2 years ago. I was reading it in my journal and I thought to myself, "That's funny.  I'm putting that on my blog."  Since this laundry lamentation was written I have made several changes in the laundry and I no longer spend hours folding clothes.  I let the children handle their own folding.

Here it is:

I think we all have that one chore that we absolutely detest.  The one that we avoid with careful planning, that we put off, try to forget, and that visits us in unpleasant dreams to mock us and remind us that we have yet to accomplish the dreaded task.  For me, it is the laundry.  Not the washing.  My washing machine does a stellar job of getting the clothes clean with minimal effort on my part.  I am also very proud of my dryer for always getting the job done.  My only contribution there it to toss the clothes in, add a dryer sheet, and press start.  But, after running 8+ loads through on an average week, which would be more if I didn't have such a big washer, my steam sizzles out.  The daunting task of sorting and folding looms before me like a root canal appointment without anesthesia.  I try to dull the pain by watching a movie while I work, but it drags on and on and on, and when the first movie ends and I'm still folding, I start to have dangerously violent thoughts, usually directed at my children and husband.  Thoughts like, "Why is it my job to do your laundry?  Can I poke you with something sharp and hot so you feel like I feel right now?"  Okay, I guess the 22 month old really can't wash her own clothes.  But if the three year old can paint her body in peanut butter without getting her dress dirty, why can't she learn to push a few buttons and dump in some detergent?  If she can unload her closet and dresser in the time it takes me to shower, why can't she neatly fold her shorts and shirts and place them lovingly in her bare naked dresser?  And if she can do it, the 6, 8, and 10 year old children should be old hats at laundry by now.  But, strangely, they are not. They seem to have the same genetic loathing for the task as me! Even when I wash, dry, sort, and fold their clothes into individual baskets, they act like I am asking them to solve the conflict in Israel when I request that they put their clothes away! Excuse me! I draw the line there.  I am not the maid! I do not get paid and I do not get to go home after my work is done.  We're supposed to be in this thing together.  Instead, I am taking a break after 3 straight hours of folding laundry to write this little rant before I go back for another hour, while the rest of my family is relaxing in the soothing air conditioning of the nearest dollar theater.  Yes, I admit it is two weeks worth of clothes, but that still doesn't explain how my 6 year old wore 24 pairs of panties and 12 dresses, in addition to a full basket of shirts and shorts.  My ten year old only used 2 pairs of underwear.  Could this explain the stench emanating from his room? Ew! On top of the physical labor I have to deal with the trauma of this underwear issue.  And then there's the socks. I hate folding socks!  I hate sorting socks! I hate checking to see what color the stripe is at the bottom of the sock and decoding to whom each sock belongs.  But, more than that, I hate checking the socks for holes.  My 8 year old is a hole factory.  I have no idea how his heels are capable of ripping through supposedly tough soles on a weekly basis.  It's time to buy stock in the sock company to get some of my money back.  And then there is the issue of my husband's work clothes.  Not being able to afford dry cleaning, I have especially delightful honor of laundering his shirts and pants. And of course they must not be wrinkled.  And of course I SO do not iron.  So, those have to come straight out of the dryer and fly directly to the nearest hanger before their final destination of his closet.  Sometimes I wonder if he thinks a magic fairy picks them up off the floor and returns them clean and fresh to his closet rod.  I want a fairy like that!  Just once, I want to NOT be the person who makes this magic happen.  I want to come home from work, which will be difficult since I am a stay at home mom, and find dinner on the table, cherubic children waiting with outstretched arms, and Kirkland's Best laundry detergent scent wafting outside from the dryer vent.  The clothes will be clean and residing in the correct dressers and closets, and I will pretend that it wasn't a monumental task.  I will sweetly kiss my spouse and say, :Hey, thanks for doing the laundry." And leave it at that.

Febrile Seizure

Emmeline got a butterfly at the hospital and a monkey in the ambulance.

   Everybody knows you need to walk a mile in another's shoes to truly understand that person's experiences.  My sister has children who are prone to febrile seizures.  I never wanted to walk in those shoes.  I believed her when she told me it was terrifying.  I didn't want to know for myself.

On Christmas day my 5 year old, Audrey, came down with a fever.  It turned out to be some strange gastrointestinal sickness that came with a nasty fever.  She just threw up one time, clear fluid with some mucous.  She ate normally. Still, I knew it was likely to spread.  Emmeline often climbs into bed with Audrey.  She was doomed.

The day after Christmas started out as a lazy Christmas break day.  The kids played with their new stuff and around 11 I had the boys set up our new Instant Tent in our big upstairs family room.  The kids were going to have a sleepover in it.  Emmeline had started to act sick about an hour before this, crying and dry heaving, so I put her down on the couch.  She was in a deep sleep and completely oblivious to what was going on around her.

I don't know what time things actually happened because I wasn't really looking at clocks.  Sometime around 12 I had kids get food out to eat.  I took a shower and got dressed.  I was sitting around upstairs when Reuben started to check on Emmeline and told me she was sleeping with her eyes half open and it was creepy.  I hollered, "Leave her alone! Don't wake her up!"

Emmeline started to cry.  I came in, annoyed that he had woken her up.  She slid off the couch and stayed crumpled on the floor.  I told Reuben to pick her up and put her back on the couch.  I'm still not supposed to be picking her up for at least another week.  Reuben gently laid her back on the couch and as I tucked the blanket around her she looked me in the eyes and said, "Mommy, stay with me!" or something like that.  I told her I wouldn't leave her.

She immediately threw her head back.  Her eyes became fixed.  Her hands tightened like claws and began to jerk.  This lasted for just a few seconds and then she stopped moving and was limp.

She wasn't breathing.

I told Reuben to call 911.  I grabbed her, yelling at her to breathe, trying to get her to respond to me.  She appeared dead.  Her eyes were lifeless, no recognition, but just staring blankly.  I ran with her downstairs, imploring with her to come back to us, begging her to start breathing.

I knew that she might be having a seizure because of how it started, but I had never witnessed a febrile seizure, and this wasn't like the seizure I watched my brother have many years before.  He was shaking and still breathing.

I laid Emmeline down on the floor and decided to check to see if her jaw was locked.  I shoved my finger between her teeth, which were clenched. Of course she bit me- really hard.  I didn't care though because I knew for sure it was a seizure.

It felt like an eternity.  As I panicked, begging her to breathe, at this point holding the phone and talking to 911, I thought of my friends Paul and Julia who lost their daughter this year.  I think of them often, hurting for them. I thought of my baby cousin who passed away suddenly very recently. Was I about to walk in their shoes?  You never know.  I hurt so much for them, but I don't want to know how much they hurt.

  Emmeline started to breathe!  I think it was about 2 minutes that she didn't breathe.

But, she still wasn't really with us.  She was non-responsive and breathing shallowly.

The paramedics arrived.  Emmeline started to cough and cry.

They put her on oxygen, took her blood sugar, and put on an oxygen monitor. She started to scream.  I was glad. Everything was crazy.  I sent the kids to get an adult neighbor and told Reuben to call Judd.  I grabbed things for a bag. My sister called and told the child who answered the phone that her baby had been born!  We left in the ambulance.

Emmeline became more alert about 10 minutes into the ambulance trip. She started to look me in the eye again and respond to what people were saying.  Then she would go insane again and start screaming.  She threw up the medicine.  That was the only time she threw up, but it meant a tylenol suppository was in her future.

I've never ridden on a stretcher, but the paramedics had me climb on and hold Emmeline because she was inconsolable when we reached the hospital. We rode in and got seen right away.  Emmeline was fine, but they just wanted to make sure.  She had her urine tested and was monitored for about 4 hours. Daddy joined us shortly after we arrived. By the time we were ready to go home, the tylenol had kicked in and she was telling all of the hospital personnel her jobs and the definition of the word ambiguous.  She was truly back.

And she is fine.  We learned a lot about febrile seizures during our visit.  They cannot be prevented, even by keeping your child on tylenol around the clock.  They happen when a fever spikes quickly and the brain literally reboots.  Often the first sign that the child is sick is the seizure.  That's how fast it can come on.  I knew Emmeline had a fever, but I was waiting for her to throw up before medicating her.  The doctors told me that even if I had medicated her, it still would have happened.  Febrile seizures occur most often in children under 5 and there can be a family link. Her chance of having another febrile seizure is about 30%, not for this illness, just sometime in the future.  But because this was her first and she is relatively old and because it happened with a fairly high fever( 103 in her ear), the chances are lower.  I cannot imagine experiencing it again.  It was horrifying.  I thought I was holding my dead child in my arms.  And now I feel both grateful that she is okay and increased sorrow for my friends and family who have lost a child.  I had only a glimpse of the feeling, the fear of it happening to me.  Time stood nearly still.  I could see nothing but her.  She was never really in the danger that I thought she was in, but it felt like it to me, just for those 2 minutes.  You never know how much time you have on earth with your loved ones, but I know that I have now, and I know that we can have eternity.

Merry Christmas 2012

I've been feeling really guilty for many years about not sending out Christmas cards. For a few years we made up Groundhog Day cards, and that was a lot of fun, but it just kind of sizzled. We were too poor. We were too busy. Every now and then I've done an e-card, so when I got my sister's today, I thought, I can do that. It's free and it involves sitting around "resting", which is what I am supposed to do most of the day. So, here it is, and I have no idea what I'm going to say, but I'm sure something will spew forth as I continue typing:

  Judd (37) keeps himself busy slaving away at his law firm, Wimmer and Pitts, in Cottonwood Heights, Utah.  He coached Tim's and Reuben's soccer teams last Spring and Tim's and Clara's soccer teams in the fall. During the summer, he coached Tim's Summer Select competition soccer team and headed up a fun filled tournament trip to Cedar City.  The boys love him and so do the parents! The soccer organization, AYSO loves him too for his service on the board as age commissioner for the U10 boys and U12 boys, and also for serving as the Safety Director.  He is currently coaching a Jr. Jazz basketball team for Amy and another one for Tim and his buddies. When Judd is not coaching, he can be found driving carpool routes or playing Sequence for Kids, Moose in the House, or the Wild Rumpus game with the little girls.  At church, he serves in the Stake Sunday School Presidency, ward Financial Clerk, and teaches Elder's Quorum once a month.  Since he has so much spare time, he also agreed to head up the ward Christmas Party a few weeks ago, which was a big hit! Judd has also earned his "Substitute Mommy" degree over the last four months.

Judd and Rooster (Reuben)

(Me)Becky (35) I spent most of 2012 playing the Pollyanna Glad Game, or in other words, trying to live the idea "Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass. . . .It's about learning to dance in the rain."  It has definitely been a dance in the rain kind of year, and I've tried really hard to embrace the joys as they come.  After a year and half of daily pain, I got braces in August of 2011. In the Spring of 2012 I was ready for surgery, but had to wait to get health insurance, or find $20,000, whichever was easier.  Insurance secured, I  had jaw surgery in early September and have been banded shut for most of the day ever since!  The longer it goes, the less it bothers me.  I don't know for sure when I will get my braces off, but I expect it to be in the next 3-6 months and then I'm going to get the coolest retainer they have- sparkly or rainbow, or both!  In November, I had another surgery for a different problem.  Sadly, the healing isn't going well, but I have been blessed with a lot of love and more lessons to be learned in patience and empathy for suffering.  The good news- I lost 20 pounds  from the general anesthesia making me sick. I have spent my recovery time painting rocks and sewing on the machine my grandmother passed on to me just before she died in May. I also play chauffeur throughout the week and spend way too much time cleaning, but not lately.  At church I am the Activity Days Leader, Relief Society Pianist, and Relief Society Instructor- so awesome!  I accompanied Judd and Tim on the soccer trip to Cedar City, but the trip I'm really dreaming of for 2013 is one with no sports and no children.

My new nephew Coleman

Ever since I got braces, people think I am Reuben's sister.

Reuben (14) Reuben gets up, spends 30 minutes on a hairdo that should take 2 minutes, goes to 8th grade, gets mostly A's,comes home, checks his hair, does his homework, practices trumpet, checks his hair, goes to his activities, eats dinner, checks his hair, and goes to bed.  He played soccer in the Spring, but decided to give it up for good in May.  He's been super busy this school year with voice lessons, Janeen Brady Children's Choir, Janeen Brady Show Choir, Granite Jr. Youth Symphony, Scouts/Young Men's, and play practice for Amahl and the Night Visitors, which took up 2-3 nights a week for 2 months.  He was amazing as Amahl and, much to his chagrin, can still sing higher than most women.  One day he'll know how cool it was to be a boy soprano!  Reuben is a great big brother and so sweet to his littlest sister Emmeline.  He also earned his Duty to God award for Deacons before advancing to be a Teacher in October.  Reuben won Reflections at his school for his film, a puppet show about the magical moment of getting 2 pounds of cheese for Christmas. True Story.

Tim(12) Tim is a 6th grader at the district Magnet school for gifted children.  When he isn't going to school or teasing his sisters, Tim eats, drinks, and breathes soccer and computer. His Summer Select team won first place in the Cedar City Tournament, a pretty big deal since they were up against year round comp. teams.  When he isn't playing soccer, he helps out by refereeing.  He is really enjoying his second year of playing violin and trying out basketball this Winter. Timothy won Reflections at his school for his film documenting the moment when Daddy comes home.  He also won at the Council level. He is currently planning the state's greatest History Fair project in hopes of going "all the way!" He recently turned 12 and received the Aaronic Priesthood, becoming a Deacon and joining Young Men's.

Amy (9) Amy is the miniature mother of our home.  Her brothers might technically be the ones babysitting, but when Mom and Dad leave the crew alone, we know who is really holding down the fort.  She is in 4th grade at the district Magnet school for gifted children.  Amy loves school, devours books, and adores her family.  She takes clogging and Jazz and is a member of the Janeen Brady Children's Choir.  Amy won Reflections at her school for her poem about the magical moments during Trick or Treating.  She also won at the Council level.  She has decided that  it is better to give than to receive and is receiving help from Mom to sew some amazing presents for her siblings this year.

Clara (7) Clara attends 2nd grade at the same school as the love of her life, who will remain unnamed for now.  She has named her stuffed dog after this lucky boy.  Clara took the soccer field by storm this fall.  If she wasn't scoring goals, she was leading the parents in cheers on the sidelines.  Everyone who knows Clara, loves Clara, except for evil or selfish people.  She is so exuberant and loving!  She recently asked for my help to make fabric swords for three older boys at school who are mean to her on the bus.  Who does that? Clara does.  She loves to sing, sew, and take clogging and jazz class.  Clara won Reflections at her school for her 3D art, a fabric bird in an egg, and for her poem about the magical moment of realizing her birthday candles were trick candles!  You can keep making wishes forever!  She also won at the Council level for her 3D art.  Clara helps out with babysitting by being the designated dirty diaper changer. She thinks it is fun.

The bird

Audrey (5) After an illustrious one year career as a home-schooled preschooler, Audrey started Kindergarten in August at Hawthorn Academy in West Jordan.  It is a Charter School.  We have finally decided to try something different. As much as we love the gifted school, not all of our kids test in the top 1%.  As much as we love the local school, we aren't thrilled about the Chinese Immersion program. Why couldn't it have been Spanish?  So, we enrolled Audrey at Hawthorn.  Charter schools are public schools. They do not charge tuition and admission is run by lottery.  It's been a little bit difficult so far because the work load is pretty heavy and Mommy has been under the weather for the whole school year, but Audrey is learning a lot and reading is finally starting to click.  She loves to take dance class once a week and is a little bit obsessed with watching My Little Pony on Youtube.

Emmeline (2) Emmeline leads a pretty low key life.  She cheerfully repeats her scripture verse in the morning, eats, plays, destroys, sleeps, eats, plays, destroys, and repeats.  She recently had an entire blog entry devoted to her cuteness. Emmeline's greatest accomplishment this year has been her vocabulary gains.  She can say, well, anything you can say, and say it cuter too!  She has been incredibly sweet and understanding about Mommy being "sick" for several months.  While she will respond to her nickname "Lemon" don't call her a baby or you might just disintegrate from her death glare.

We are having a simple Christmas at our house this year, enjoying being together and feeling the love of the Savior. 

Merry Christmas!  

Emmeline's Jobs

I have all these serious thoughts floating around in my head after a day at church, especially since I taught R.S. today. But, I don't think I'm going to bore you with seriousness today. No, what the world needs now is a little levity, a little reminder of all the good, sweet, beautiful, funny, fantastic little things that make life worth living. Yes, I'm talking about little people. No, not "Little People", just people who are still little. I like to call my children little people. They may not be quite so fond of the title, but they won't be little forever, so time will heal them of this insult. Anyway, Emmeline is just so dang stinkin' cute that I thought I'd share some of her adorableness with you all. First of all, she still has these amazing cheeks that you simply want to squeeze until happiness bursts right out! Don't try it though. It has been scientifically proven that Emmeline's cheeks are actually a breeding ground equal to the likes of Typhoid Mary. Then there is her hair! Holy hair! This kid has got luscious locks cascading down her head, ending in gentle curls. She knows it too. Some people have security blankets or stuffed animals. Emmeline has her hair. Who needs a teddy bear when you can pet your own head? And finally, her brain is amazing. If you know her, you know that Emmeline can carry on a conversation with the best of us. She loves to "read" scriptures, sing songs, play the piano, and tell us all what to do. When I realized how smart she was, I started to give her jobs. She will repeat them on request. Here's a short video to demonstrate the sincerity of my claim that Emmeline is practically irresistable! She tells her jobs on this video. You don't want to miss that! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q9WrwS3Lcs4 In case you can't understand her, her jobs are: 1.Be humble 2.Be cute 3. Be nice 4. Be safe 5. Be clean

Gobble Gobble Super Turkey

This is a week of firsts for me: 1. This is my first blog entry made completely on my kindle. So it will be shorter than usual. 2. I used a hot glue gun in bed this week. 3. I had what can reasonably be called my first nervous breakdown. 4. I was alone during my nonexistent Thanksgiving dinner. I was invited of course but did not feel well enough to attend. 5. I found a narcotic that does not cause me an allergic reaction. 6. My sweet husband made both the mashed potatoes and 4 dozen homemade rolls to take to his parents today. There is something very desirable about a man who can work the yeast. 7. I watched the parade and some dog shows. I don't even like parades or dog shows but it was so great to feel good enough to repose on the couch rather than my bed that I didn't care what was on. 8. Finally, while getting a heparin shot in the hospital, the nurse said my stomach didn't have much fat and didn't look like I had birthed 6 children -and I couldn't respond with my usual "You haven't seen me with my clothes off!" because, well, you know. . . It has been a very difficult week for me as I struggle to recover from my second surgery this Fall. My husband has been my wall to lean on, quite literally. I have received tons of help and support. Of course I am grateful to everyone and especially to Heavenly Father for the blessing of life and even for excruciating challenges that leave me forever changed. I was on the brink this week, hours away from a return to the hospital,physically and emotionally spent, when we called on a friend to help my husband give me a priesthood blessing. I was able to calm down, go to sleep, and resolve the issue in time to avoid the hospital. It wasn't a miraculous healing, but just enough improvement for me to keep on plugging. There is always good to be found if only you look. There is always happiness to feel if you want to, maybe something small on the darkest days, but no matter what, "Let us resolve to be happy, regardless of our circumstances."-Dieter F. Uctdorf

Confessions of a Serial Trick or Treater

Why should Halloween be just for the kids?  Okay, I really do understand the reasons why trick or treating is for children, but it took me a long time to get it out of my system.  A VERY LONG TIME.  It may have involved trick-or-treating as an adult on more than one occasion.  Okay, it did involve that.  I admit it.  I LOVE TRICK-OR-TREATING!!!!!!!!!

Trick or treating as a child was perhaps the highlight of my entire year.  I loved candy, I didn't have an allowance most of my life, and this was my one chance all year long to hit the mother load.  Easter and Christmas were great too, but Halloween offered so much more! I grew up in a nice flat Texas neighborhood and we would trick or treat for about 3 hours straight, often running from house to house.  I probably pulled in 5-10 pounds of candy, which I never managed to make last past Christmas, unlike my friend Ronni who would eat one piece a day.  Some people are just born with incredible discipline.  Some of us are born dreaming of Reece's Peanut Butter Cups.  Oh, sweet memories of childhood!

Well, I had really awesome parents who let us trick or treat every year and didn't make us stop at any particular age. But, my older siblings naturally stopped around 16, so I thought I would too.  I was planning on my last year of trick or treating to be the best yet.  Then my dad got a job in Moscow Russia and 6 weeks later, in September of 2001, we were living there.  They don't have Halloween in Russia.  Ahhh!!!!!  Horror of Horrors! I was traumatized.  My parents couldn't even go out and buy me candy to make up for it because they didn't have much imported American candy and Russian candy was just not the same.  I probably should have felt worse for my little brothers, but hey, I was a selfish teenager, and I just felt bad for me.  I slowly simmered about my lost candy for 3 years.  Then I moved back to America, 17 years old, as a Freshman at Brigham Young University.  Halloween quickly approached and I made my plans.  I would go trick or treating!

I selected my partner in crime, a boy in my ward who was also very youthful looking. We dressed up and we headed on foot up to the married housing apts. at the North of campus.  And it worked! They gave us candy!

You might think I felt redeemed, but no, it was more like the having the pump primed.  The next year I was dating my husband and we trick or treated around his cul-de-sac. So, it was 6 houses, but I did go. The next year, we refrained.  The next year we had a 3 week old baby- plenty old for trick or treating. And by the next year, when he was 12 months old, he was totally old enough to beg for candy, and still too young to eat it!  Ha ha !

Since then, we've been legitimately taking our children trick or treating and not even stealing their candy.

 And I was almost recovered from my need to go, but I needed one more jaunt into the magical world of Halloween.  I was 27.  Yes.  I was 27.  I looked very young.  I dressed up as a butterfly and took my 14 year old sister out with me in my in-laws neighborhood.  These people knew me, but I wore an eye mask.  I hauled.  And I didn't have even one person look at me strangely . I had 3 children at this point.  I know, I'm pitiful, but I wanted the candy.  I shared it with Judd.  We were poor.   But, the good news, I'm sure you'll be glad to read, is that I was finally cured. Time, and better income, finally satiated my desire to beg door to door for goodies. I am a recovered trick or treater.  It doesn't hurt that my mouth issues prohibit me from eating most candy these days.  Anyway, that is my confession, my deep dark secret? What's yours?

I am Old

I am officially old.

Yes, I am.

Okay, maybe not old, but definitely a complete and total, no denying it, grown up.  I just turned 35 -  halfway through my 30's.  40 will be here to smack me in the face before I can say "Stop kicking your sister under the table" 1,825 more times, or something like that.  Time goes so fast!

Not so long ago, I was a cute little baby. It's taken me years to agree that I was cute and not some mutant with quadruple cheeks.  They were big.  But, I guess that's okay.

Before I knew it, I was 5 years old. Those early years really flew by for me.  Then things slowed down a little, but, Wammo!, Junior High was just around the corner.  And just when I was getting the hang of things, we moved to Russia.

Fast forward past three amazing years of  homeschool  High School and a little maturing and I descended upon the college scene like, well like an American teenager who was starved for cute guys who spoke English.  I had a goal of 3 dates per week.  So, naturally, with that important mindset,I quickly found an eternal companion.  We wed.

Then, we bred.

And here I am 35 years old, married for 15+ years, mother to 6 children.  I have a 14 year old child.  I was 14 when I moved to Russia.  It doesn't feel like that long ago.  Time felt so sluggishly slow when I was a child, like I could actually touch it while it dripped along, bit by insanely slow bit.

And now. .  I can't seem to get life to slow down.  And before I realized what happened, I've left my young life behind. Many of my friends, older than me, laugh at the concept of 35 being old.  I know that it isn't really old.  But, it isn't really young anymore either.  It's time to be a grownup.

It's time to admit my greatest weaknesses and to overcome them.  I'm not going to admit them to you, but I'm admitting them to me, and to God, and I'm going to change. Because, before I know it, I'll be 60, then 70, then, one day, I'm going to pass on from this life.

It's also time to embrace my talents and consciously develop them further.  While I was recovering from surgery and had a lot of spare time, my parents had me do some projects.  I painted flowers on rocks.  I painted a soccer ball.  I painted a bird house.  We sewed.  I realized that I have not been developing some abilities that mean a lot to me.  And I'm not getting any younger!  I shouldn't let my time be spent only helping my children with their many activities, but I should also set aside a little time for me to continue growing.

I want to improve my sewing ability, my art abilities, my music abilities. I want to do things I've never done, but always wanted to do. I want to do things I haven't done enough. I want to go on hikes.  I want to do amazing things with my garden.  I want to explore art.  I want to write about things that matter and reach a wiser audience than my facebook friends.  I want to play difficult piano pieces flawlessly.  I want to teach, not for money, I just want to teach.  And I want to be in a play, a real play, not just starring as the devil in the ward roadshow 21 years ago. That doesn't count.

This might be my little version of a midlife crisis.  I'm just really starting to understand the fragile nature of mortal life.  I don't want to have regrets.  In some ways I have been in limbo for 2 1/2 years, my life on hold while I deal with my strange mouth problems.  Next Friday I will have surgery to hopefully fix another problem I've been dealing with since Timothy's birth.  Then, I'm going to start doing these things.  My midlife crisis is going to be one of self-improvement, not selfishly, but balanced with my most important roles of mother and wife.  Let the crisis begin!  I'm feeling old and times a wastin'!

p.s.  I also want to know who actually reads this blog.  Please feel free to comment.  I adore comments!

ONE MORE DAY!

My surgery was exactly 6 weeks ago!  Tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock I will see my oral surgeon, have an x-ray, and hope to see some good healing in my upper jaw bone.  I am done with these bands!  I hope.

It has been super fun to develop such a close and loving relationship with my blender.

I have blended things I didn't think I would ever blend- almonds, oats, chicken, hamburger, beans, kale, rice, bread, tortillas, -even lettuce.

I thought you might enjoy some photos of my dinner last night.

This is how it started.  Beans and rice, salsa, sauteed celery, leeks, and peppers, sour cream, water, and lettuce. 

Blend for 40 seconds on the smoothie setting. 

Mmm, it's looking good!

Voila!  Cafe Rio flavor, baby food appearance. Yummy!

And that's the way it goes- 3 or 4 times a day.  Delicious!  I'm hoping that tomorrow I get the clearance to start chewing soft foods like scrambled eggs, oatmeal, and noodles.  If not, I might see what happens when I blend tortilla chips.  :)
 Seriously, I know this looks really gross, but I am forever grateful that the Blendtec blender exists and that I was able to get one.  It has kept me alive and healthy.  It has even kept me from losing any more weight, which is shockingly disappointing.  I had hoped that giving up white flour, candy, cookies, cakes, chips,. . .  and all other good sweet or salty treats would make a difference.  Oh well!  I am just grateful to be alive and for all of my wonderful working body parts.

5 weeks post-op

Wednesday October 10th, 2012 -(awesome photo at end)
5 weeks! It seems like just yesterday I was still waiting for surgery.  But, hopefully I have just one week left of being banded.  I have an appointment tomorrow and I'll see what my doctor says then.  The week that I came home- about 2 1/2 weeks ago, I worked really hard to clean my home and get back into the swing of motherhood.  I guess I worked too hard, but I didn't feel like it at the time.  The next week I crashed hard and had to watch all my hard work revert while the children spread crumbs over the carpet and dirt on the walls.  It's not really totally destroyed, but I did have to take it easy.  Instead of cleaning, I sewed.  I'm working on a quilt for Emmeline . It is simple but absolutely gorgeous!  I'm very close to having the top finished.

Being home has been wonderful, but also difficult.  I've been hit in the jaw three times.  Audrey caught a cold and gave it to me.  That's sharing at it's finest!  I'm not sleeping well, even though Judd is doing all of the middle of the night child duties.  The hardest thing has been watching my family eat junk food all day long.  There seems to be a constant stream of candy, cookies, chips. . . and I can't eat any of it.  I just smell it and tell myself that was as good as eating it.  It really is close.  I'm hoping to maintain this new habit because I REALLY do not want to gain back the 10 pounds I lost. Those 10 pounds were a new addition that I gained after losing weight when I got my braces on.  I'm not sure how to prevent them from coming back.  My plan is to only eat when hungry and to continue exercising.  It's been so interesting to eat from my blender for so long.  I'm focusing on getting a lot of protein and also fruits, vegetables, and whole grains.  I would like to keep the switch to whole grains.  It's going to be hard because my family is anti whole wheat, anti- whole grain pasta, anti brown rice, anti oatmeal.  So, I might just have to offer both kinds for a while. I know I can win some of them over to the dark side! In the meantime, I made them homemade rolls and cinnamon bread yesterday.  They were so excited that I baked again!

As can be expected, I continue to learn from this experience:

1.I've learned that not having feeling in a body part is really a handicap.  While I'm grateful to not feel pain in my upper teeth, eating against a palate void of all feeling is difficult.  Today I held an ice cube against my palate- nothing.  I have been sensing twinges of cold in my two front teeth- at least I think I have.  But, when I touch them, I can't feel it.  I know that when I start to chew again, it will be challenging to do so with no feeling in my top teeth.

2. I've learned that healing from a broken bone actually does require more sleep. For me, it requires about two hours more sleep than I was getting before, so 8-9 hours instead of 6-7. I feel like a little kid again.

3. I've learned that yelling with clenched/banded teeth is really difficult and not worth it.  It causes me pain later and at the moment when I attempt to yell, I get the distinct impression that I resemble a frothing dog. My children say I sound like I am mad all of the time.  Try talking with clenched teeth and you will see what they mean.

4. I have learned that raw frozen spinach really has no taste when mixed into a smoothie.  I have tried it with every possible combination, including with just ice cream and peaches.  That was the most delicious peach spinach milkshake, even if it was green.

5. I have learned that I had a habit of licking food off of my fingers, based on the number of times that I try to do it, only to be thwarted by the fact that I cannot open my mouth.

6. I have learned that I do not lick my lips.  While I am addicted to chapstick, being banded shut has not made any difference.  I still need it just as much as before.  My lips still get chapped.

7. I've learned that some food tastes pretty good after being blended, like beans and brown rice, and some food turns into super baby food cement- like potatoes. DO NOT BLEND POTATOES!

7. Another thing I have learned is something I already knew.  But, I think I learn it deeper each time it happens.  I have learned that "With God, nothing is impossible".  No matter what it is, God will make you equal to the trials that you face in life, if you turn to Him.  People have been shocked and horrified by what I have gone through with my mouth problem and the jaw surgery.  Yes, it has been really hard.  There's no doubt about that.  But, I knew going into this surgery that I would survive. During the awful initial recovery period, I used two techniques to get me through.  When I started to panic, I chanted over and over in my head, "The Lord is my light and my strength." This was a mutation of Psalm 27 which starts, "The Lord is the strength of my life.  The Lord is my light and salvation."  I couldn't remember it correctly.  My brain was so foggy.  It didn't matter though.  Turning to the Lord gave me the strength to take one more breath.

The other technique was suggested by someone, who shall remain nameless.  I was having panic attacks while trying to fall asleep, afraid that I wouldn't be able to breathe. The suggestion was to pray myself to sleep, praying in detail for each of my children, and to just keep going until I fell asleep.  So, maybe praying with the intention of falling asleep isn't very righteous, but I think Heavenly Father understood, and my prayers were sincere. It was comforting to be praying for the welfare of others instead of focusing on myself.

Many people have remarked how they couldn't have their teeth banded or wired shut for 6 weeks.  I would have thought the same thing of myself.  But, it's not true. You can do anything with God.  ANYTHING.  Whatever He requires of you, you can do.  Whatever trials you face, you can emerge from the darkness with strengthened faith.  In the LDS church we like to talk about the refiner's fire a lot.  We consider large trials in our life to be our own personal visits into that fire.  It isn't a pleasant trip, but going through the refiner's fire strips away impurities and strengthens what is left behind. Afterwards, you wonder how you were ever happy living with those impurities.  You are changed.  If you have ever experienced a planned empowering natural childbirth, the feelings are similar.  It's the power of learning that you can do HARD THINGS.  So, to my wonderful friends and family, all blessed with your own kaleidoscope of trials, YES, you could do this too, if it were asked of you.  You can do hard things.  We all can.  With God, nothing is impossible.

Thursday October 11, 2012

I just had my dr. appt.  Everything looks good.  He said I could start opening my mouth a little bit now and a gain with the bands on.  I have my 6 week appt. next Thursday.  I think scrambled eggs are in my future!

And my quilt top is done!

Amahl For This! Happy Birthday Reuben!

Today is my oldest son Reuben's 14th birthday.  Which means that my 35th birthday is just around the bend.  I brought Reuben home from the hospital the day I turned 21.  That was a hard day.  My sweet hubby left me home alone with a new baby and spent hours shopping to buy me presents . I think he had a great time.  I was miserable. It was night time. I was in pain. I didn't know what I was doing.  And I was alone with a brand new baby in a small dark basement apartment.  That sounds kind of appealing now- the being alone with just one little baby part. :)  But, joking aside, Reuben is really starting to grow up, inside and out. We've come a long way from that day 14 years ago.

Reuben came into the world after just 3 hours and 33 minutes of labor- at 3:33 a.m. on Ocober 5th, 1998.  He was small- 6 lbs. 12 ounces and 19 inches long, with chubby cheeks and an elf bump on his ear.  He had these incredibly alert eyes that stared right into our souls.

Reuben was a nursing fiend.  He nursed for 12 hours every day with one hour breaks in between.

By age 6 months Reuben was an ice cream eating pro. The next month Grandma Kristie fed him french fries along with ice cream at the Cougar Eat while I was in class at BYU.

At 8 1/2 months Reuben decided to walk.  He never crawled.  I guess the commercial carpet was too scratchy.

At 10 months Reuben walked with Mommy and Daddy when we both graduated.  He was adorable in his little cap and gown.

Around 16 months he started to sing and NEVER STOPPED.

At 20 months Reuben opened the fridge and told us he wanted some 7 "U" ""P"

We knew we were in trouble then.

At 2 he woke up one morning and said, "These are my demands.  I want a donut, carrots, and some chocolate milk!"

At 2 1/2 Reuben stood on the bench and gave birth to his stuffed duck in the middle of sacrament meeting, pulling it out from between his legs and yelling, "I birthed Ducky!"

Reuben became a big brother at age two and has graciously welcomed a total of 5 siblings into the world.  He is the best big brother!

It has been so fun to watch Reuben grow and see him develop his talents.  And he is soooo talented!

Reuben plays the trumpet in the concert band and the jazz band at school.  He also recently auditioned for and joined the Granite Junior Youth Symphony.

He has been a member of the Janeen Brady Children's Choir for two years ( by force)

He has been taking voice lessons since he was 11. ( by force, but he has stopped complaining)

Reuben recently auditioned for an operetta  and was cast as the lead in "Amahl and the Night Visitors". He may not be thrilled about still being a soprano, but he has the most beautiful voice.  I wish I could sing like
that!

Tomorrow he will sing in a choir for General Conference.  He's so lucky!

He missed a 4.0 by one A- last year. Drat!  But, more importantly, he always does his homework without being told.

He is best friends with his brother Tim.

Reuben is a few merit badges away from being ready for his Eagle Project and finished his Duty to God requirements for a Deacon- with plenty of time to spare LAST NIGHT!

He has faithfully served as the Deacon's Quorum President for about 6 months.

Reuben is hoping to outgrow a lot of clothes this year and surpass me in height. He is currently about 1 inch shorter than me.  It's wonderful and a little sad to see my first baby about to overtake me vertically.  Before I know it, he'll be driving.  And dating.  5 years might seem like a long time now, but that mission call is really just around the bend.  My little boy is getting so big, but not too big to accidentally call me Mommy now and again when no one else is listening.  Not too big to hug me goodnight.  Not too big to chase his little sister around the house and swing her through the air. Happy Birthday Reuben.  I love you!  And I hope you will forgive me for putting this into cyberspace.

Clara: Episode 5

I think this is the funniest set of Clara-isms yet.

1. I made homemade chicken noodle soup the other night. Clara has decided that she loathes chicken, unless it comes from Chick-fil-A.  (But, that's a secret).  So she was thrilled when I served her bowl of soup before adding the chicken.  She was so thrilled that stopped in her tracks, held her hand together near her chest, and then ran over to my side hugging me.  "Oh Mommy!  I am 100% sure that I will never regret living in this family with such a good Mommy!"

2. The kids were playing a game with some homemade cards that have pictures of our family on them. They had devised some system where they would decide the fate of the person on the card before turning it over.  The planned action didn't happen, but it made the kids laugh.  Before one turn they decided that the next person flipped over had to have their arm amputated.  They turned over the card and it was a picture of me. Clara screamed, "No!  Not Mommy!  She already got her mouth amputated!"

3. This one is actually something funny that Audrey (5) said, but she said it to Clara.

Clara:   Did you know that Jesus' name is really Jehovah?

Audrey: His name is not Jevolvah!

Clara: yes, it is. It was his old name, and then he changed it to Jesus.

Audrey: I'd change my name to Jesus too if My name was Jevolvah.

4.During Church on Sunday while I was recuperating - 

Clara, jumping up and down on the bench. Clara, climbing all over people during the sacrament, almost bumping the tray to the floor. Clara, climbing under the benches.

Daddy: Clara, you are behaving the worst you have behaved in forever. Now sit down, and think about Jesus.

Clara: (Loud enough for everyone to hear in the chapel) Daddy, I AM thinking about Jesus. I'm Jesus' Cat. 

Daddy: You are NOT going to be Jesus' cat during the meeting. Sit down now.

Clara: (crawling into the isle, being sacrilegious) My name is Christ. Christ the cat. Sister Bell can call me Christ, Jesus' Cat!

5. And finally, at dinner tonight, Clara admitted to writing a love letter to a boy at school. She has loved him since Kindergarten.  He went to a different school for 1st grade and came back to her school this year.  At first she loved him because he used blue scissors and because he was so handsome.  Now it has evolved further.  I confiscated the note and told her that it is inappropriate to give to him and she can write him a note complimenting him but not professing love. Here is her letter:

Dear ________,

For some time now I have loved you.  I egmiyered ( admired) you for such a long time.  I like the way you shine like a flower.  You are so hansom (handsome)  Sine- Your secret egmiyer.  

Paper Chain

It isn't often that I experience something so awful, so challenging, so consuming, that I am unable to write in detail about it while I am going through the trial.  In fact, I don't think it has ever happened to me.  Until my jaw surgery.

What can I say?  Wow.  It was hard.

My surgery was on September 5th.  After all I could do to prepare, I placed my faith in God and trusted in my oral surgeon, Dr. Urban, carefully selected, to perform a successful surgery.  The procedure that I had is called a Lefort Osteotomy.  Check out this link to understand more.  I had the first kind.  http://www.roopakmaj.com/2007/06/3-weeks-post-op-prepare-to-be-grossed.html

I knew that when I woke up my teeth would be banded together.  I was pretty nervous about this causing me to panic.  I chose not to research the operation because, sometime, not knowing is better.  I'm still glad that I didn't do much research.  I knew just enough to be prepared but not enough to back down.  If I had known how hard it would be, I can't imagine that I would have gone through with the surgery.  People told me it would be terrible.  I told myself it would be really terrible.  I wanted it to be less terrible than I imagined.  It was more terrible.

My last meal was a hamburger from the Training Table and an A&W root beer at 9 p.m. on Tuesday.  On Wednesday we got the kids off the school and headed over to Alta View Hospital.  They checked me in, weighed me, drew a bit of blood to make sure I wasn't pregnant, drew some more blood just to drain me a little ( I don't know why they did it twice), checked my vitals, and deposited me in a room to change into a somewhat revealing hospital gown and  wait it out.

We waited.

And waited.

We laughed when we watched a cooking show called "The Chew" while waiting.  There I was, about to lose my ability to chew for 6 or more weeks, watching a cooking show full of people chewing delicious homemade pizza.

About an hour behind schedule, the ball got rolling.  The Dr. came in.  We talked about last minute things.  I told him I was afraid of throwing up and that Phenergan  had controlled nausea in the past for me, but that it would also make me sleep.  The anesthesiologist came in and put in the I.V.  Without warning me, he also added something to make me drowsy.  I remember them starting to wheel me out.  I can't really remember anything after that until. . .

I woke up. .

The surgery lasted 3 1/2 hours.

I woke up 2 hours after the surgery ended.  It was 7 P.M.

There were two people by my bed and I was in an open space.  They sounded a little frantic and were telling me to breathe.  "Breathe deeper!"  I struggled to breathe, but something was gurgling in my throat.  After a bit I started to cough up blood.  The nurse demanded that I open my mouth.

The first set of rubberbands. They made it very hard to talk and I couldn't open my mouth.  Now I only have two rubberbands that I am allowed to remove to eat and brush. 

What?  I knew my teeth were banded together.  I said I couldn't, the best I could with the tight bands.  She said I could.  So I tried, envisioning the tracheotomy I was going to get if I didn't start breathing better.  And as I coughed up blood, the nurse suctioned it out.  I guess this helped my O2 levels because they started to calm down.  I didn't calm down though .  Blood was dripping down my throat.  I felt terrible.  I remember hearingi someone say the anesthesiologist had been sitting with me for a long time.  I heard the word tachycardic.  I had no idea what it meant.  Now I know it means rapid heart rate.  I think my heart was going 130 or so, where normal for me is in the 70's.

That night is somewhat of a blur of suctioning myself all night long, coughing up blood, blood running down my face, and just feeling miserable.  The Dr. came to see me that night and again the next morning very early and told the nurse to clean me up.  I guess I had blood all over my face.

They were pumping me full of drugs- phenergan, morphine, steroids, antibiotics, and later Lortab, Zofran, something like Motrin, and Afrin.

The morphine burned as it entered, starting in my heart and burning down my body like liquid draining out of my feet.  The steroid burned in a different way.  It took me about two days to communicate that to the nurses.

I couldn't talk.  I wrote everything down for a bit.  My mouth was very swollen. My palate was swollen . My tongue was swollen. I tried not to panic.  At some point they started to push liquids on me.  I had this 2 oz. syringe with tubing attached and a very strong person could suck up the liquid and then squirt it in my mouth.  It was exhausting.  I remember being immensely proud of myself that I fed myself 4 oz. of apple juice and thinking that it was plenty for one meal.  I think I had about 600 calories between Wednesday and Saturday.

I hadn't planned on people sleeping there with me, but I guess I was in such bad shape that Judd decided it was necessary.  He stayed the first night.  I think my dad slept at my house with my kids.  My dad stayed the next two nights.  All they had to sleep on was a pitiful reclining chair.  It didn't look comfortable.  I kept them up while they worried about me.  I was a mess.

The 3 day hospital stay doesn't really fit chronologically in my mind.  It's a mix of half awake half asleep episodes.  There was walking around the halls.  It was exhausting.  Blood pressure, humidifier, I.V. food.  At some point a nutritionist came and brought me a wired jaw diet packet.  I think I opened my eyes for about 5 seconds of her visit.  I never got to read the packet and it didn't seem to come home with me.  The R.S. presidency came to visit me.  The president told me later that she cried after she left my room because I looked so awful.  My aunt came and sat with me and rubbed my hands and feet with lotion and braided my hair.  It was very soothing.  I felt so helpless and disconnected.  I felt like I was dying.

Dr. Urban kept urging me to get up out of bed, but I couldn't manage more than a walk around the nurses station every few hours. He said I would feel better if I got up and moved around.  It didn't make me feel better. It took every bit of will power I had and then I would sleep for two hours after a walk.  On the fourth day, I went home to my parents house.  I began to have anxiety attacks each night.  My nose was stuffy and I was afraid it would completely clog and I would suffocate or have to cut the bands and risk my jaw healing incorrectly.  Every time I would fall asleep I would wake up in a panic. I had this constant heavy feeling on my chest. This lasted for 4 nights.  I slept for only a few hours each night, and only for one hour at a time.  The rest of the time I would just breathe in and out and try not to panic, praying for comfort. My parents set up a humidifier and a fan, and placed a bell by me that I could ring if I needed help. Finally,  on the 7th night after surgery, I got decent sleep.  I thought I would turn the corner and feel better and be able to stay awake and focus on doing something like reading or watching t.v.

 But, I still couldn't function.  My dad took me to the store to walk around.  I got in, went down one aisle, and stopped.  "The cart is too heavy.  I can't do this," I didn't care about anything at that moment.  He took me back and told my mom I was getting worse.  She called the doctor and they decided I was dehydrated.  My parents pushed water and pedialyte on me and it actually worked. 8 days after surgery I finally turned a corner!  I was able to stay out of bed and walk without my knees buckling.

I decided I didn't need a blood transfusion and that I wasn't going to die.

I had done some things in the previous days, like working a puzzle with my mom.  It was one of the hardest things I ever did.  I only did it to pass time and to try to stay out of bed.  I could hardly hold my head up. I couldn't walk straight.  I had to hold on to my dad's hand when we would go walk outside because my knees kept buckling under me.  I couldn't seem to lift my arms up. They were just too heavy.  I was walking crooked.  My body just wanted to tilt.

It was so wonderful to emerge from the fog!  And it's just gotten better every day since then.  It has now been 20 days.  I spent 3 days in the hospital and 2 weeks and one day with my parents.  Yesterday was my first day home with my family.  I did have visits with them frequently, but I really stepped back into the mother role today.  And it was hard.  I am pretty much seriously really tired.

 But, nothing has ever been as physically hard as those 8 days.

I knew I was scaring people, and there was nothing I could do about it.   I had many priesthood blessings -probably 5 or 6 over 8 days. I knew I wasn't going to die, but I still felt only half connected.  I heard my mom tell my husband that she could gauge my recovery process by how many times I said,"I don't care.".  I just didn't care about anything.  "You decide Mom, please.  Just tell me what to eat, what to do.  It's too hard."  I personally was gauging my recovery by how well I could play the piano and whether I could beat my mom at Carcassonne.  The first game was a disaster.  I just wanted it to end.  My face hurt so much and I was so tired.  The end was a relief.

I am so glad that the hardest part is over.  I can deal with the rest.  I can deal with no feeling in my palate or upper teeth.  I can deal with the constant tingling and heavy feeling in my upper lip, nose, and cheeks all the way up to my eyes.  I can even handle being banded shut, especially now that I get to take them off to drink through a straw and eat baby food, I mean pureed food. I will not even go into details about how great it is to brush my teeth after not being able to brush for two weeks. Let your imagination fill in the details on that one.  I can handle the pain.  It's not too bad.  I can take the bruising that started by my mouth and spread and then started to sink under my chin.  It's pretty ugly, but I think it will be mostly gone in another week or so.  I can totally handle the weight loss.  Oh yes, that part is sweet.

This all started over two years ago with a broken tooth, soon followed up with a most confusing blessing that told me how much I would need my family to help me through. At the time I remember thinking, "I don't know what's wrong with me, but this doesn't sound good."  My family has rallied around me and supported me and my husband and children in so many ways.  I have received many get well cards, encouraging emails and facebook messages.  My parents cared for me for over two weeks.  My husband took on all the responsibilities at home.  Other family members babysat and brought meals, often both. My sister and brother in law are paying for a mother's helper and cleaning of my home for the next two weeks.  The ward family also flooded our home with goodies and offers of babysitting as needed.  I truly felt cradled in the arms of  love extended by my friends and family. And I needed it so very much. I also felt nourished by the word of God as I read the scriptures alone and with my parents.  The scriptures soothe the spirit, regardless of the state of the body.

So, almost three weeks down and three weeks to go.  I'm halfway there! The paper chain my mother made me is much smaller than it used to be. Has this healed my problem?  Well, I don't know.  My problem had to do with my bite and how it affected my ability to chew properly.  It had to do with how my bad bite was causing me to clench and grind in my sleep.  It was a complicated problem and fixing it is a process.  So, I think I am closer, but I guess I won't know for sure until I get the feeling back in my upper teeth.  Right now my bite feels pretty good, but that is only the opinion of my lower teeth. I am not done with my orthodontic treatment and will have my braces on for another 9 months to a year, mostly likely. Ask me then if my mouth problem is better.  I do believe I'm on the right path and that in the end I will be improved to a point where I am not in daily pain.

Clara: Episode 4

1. Clara recently learned a little bit about hypnosis and also how to snap.  So, she was all set to try out her new skills.  "Daddy" Clara began one night," Look at my finger". She began to move her finger in the standard hypnosis pendulum like swinging movement. "You are getting sleepy! You are getting very sleepy."
Judd decided to play along and eventually closed his eyes.
Gasp! "It worked!  When I snap my fingers you will open your eyes.  You will not remember anything."

Silence.

More silence.

And more silence.

Then, a frightened cry, "Oh no!  I can't make my fingers snap. I've hypnotized Daddy and he's going to be asleep FOREVER!"

2. Clara:  Mommy I've been feeling really itchy today.  I think I've been around too many men.  Do you think I need some allergy medicine?
Me: No.  I think you should just stay away from the men.

3. This one was relayed from my friend and one of my few blog followers- Natalie. She had brought us some goodies the night before.

• At church, Clara said "You know the thing I asked my mom if I could have some of when you were there yesterday?"
  Natalie 'yes' 
  Clara replied "Was it you who brought that over?
  Natalie" 'yes' "GASP! THANK YOU!( 

  giving Natalie a huge hug.) That kind of bread is my FAVORITE KIND OF MUFFIN!"
• Then Dustin (Natalie's husband) complimented her dress and said it was the prettiest dress he'd ever seen, and she said, "Thanks. Except for this.." and was pulling the neckline out and for some reason looking down at her bare chest. Then she said, "There's something red in here.." and pulled out a little piece of something and looked at it for a second then popped it in her mouth- "Mmm! It's a Swedish Fish!"

4. Clara,"Mommy I am 100% sure about that, except I'm not certain.  I don't really know, but I'm definitely 100% sure"

Surgery this Week!

My surgery is scheduled for this Wednesday, September 5th.  I have done a pretty decent job of not freaking out too much.  I think I've only had a couple of "I'm so scared I can't breathe" moments that I quickly fought back.  I have spent the last two months preparing myself and my family in every possible way for the coming weeks and months.  I didn't get every single thing done, but most of them, and we are in a good place.
As part of my preparation I decided to look into my chronic post nasal drip problem.  Long story short- I am allergic to 10 trees, 5 weeds, and dust mites. Nothing is wrong with my bone structure, nose, or sinuses.  The medicine doesn't help much, but it's something.  Allergy shots or alternative treatments may be in my future.  After my surgery I will not be allowed to blow my nose for 4 weeks or use my neti pot.  I'm a little nervous about that and praying that no colds come my way. So, after 3 doctor. visits for this problem, I'm still at square one with guck dripping almost constantly down the back of my throat, and other annoying side effects.
And I'm ready. I've got my blender.  I've got 5 pounds of Muscle Milk.  I have bran flakes, chia seeds, wheat germ, powdered milk, frozen tomato puree, spinach and fruit.

And the whole surgery is up in the air.  I met with the oral surgeon on Friday for the big meeting- the one where I got to ask my questions. He rescheduled it once because of a problem with an impression, which required an extra office visit for me.  His office called Friday morning and asked to reschedule again and I threw a polite fit.  I said I wanted my questions answered and I didn't want to wait any longer. They agreed that I could still come in to see him.  It's a good thing I did!  When I first was told I needed surgery, it was to expand my jaw.  During  the time I wore the mouth guard and got braces, my teeth have moved  in such a way that I've developed an open bite. This means that when I bite down my front teeth do not overlap at all.  There is a small gap.I cannot bite into food with my front teeth with any success.  I cannot break spaghetti noodles by biting into them.  I have to push soft food against my top teeth and bite harder food with my side teeth.  It's really annoying.  The oral surgeon is planning on fixing this by cutting through my upper jawbone and then shaving some off of the back, bringing the front forward so that I will be able to bite into food. This sounds great! But, that's all he was planning to do.  I asked about expansion.  You know, as in the expansion that three different orthodontists said I needed.  He said I don't need expansion, in his opinion.  He showed me on the model of my teeth.  I could see his point.  My back teeth do match up.  I'm not sure how the front is supposed to be, but he said it was fine.  I'm not even sure if my insurance will pay for it if he does decide to do it because he may have only received pre-approval for the open bite procedure.  The jaw expansion would require a few more cuts and a slightly different after care procedure. I don't really understand how we've been going along since April with this misunderstanding.

My orthodontist is out of the office until Tuesday.  The oral surgeon is out of the office too.  He's going to drive to the ortho first thing on Tuesday morning and have a chat with my orthodontist.  They will decide the fate of my mouth.  I have no idea what is going to happen, but I feel peaceful about it. Maybe I will have expansion, maybe I will not. Either way I'm having a three hour nasty jaw surgery.  Maybe the reason I felt compelled to wait was because I'm not supposed to have the expansion. I don't know.  I just know I feel right about using Dr. Urban.  I carefully selected my orthodontist and my oral surgeon and I am going to trust in their combined expertise.

My teeth will be rubber banded together for 6 weeks.  There's a chance that after a couple of weeks the rubber bands will be loosened and I will be able to open my mouth some.  There's a chance that won't happen.  It depends on if I get both procedures or not.  I do know I'm looking forward to Christmas.  I have another surgery scheduled in November- to fix my pre-existing condition that makes me ineligible for private health insurance.  That surgery will be a cakewalk compared to the jaw surgery- I hope so anyway.

In closing, lest you all feel depressed after reading this, let me conclude by saying that I know absolutely that this is the right course for me.  I feel so peaceful about it.  Yes, I also feel nervous and a little bit afraid, but mostly I feel like I am on the right path.  I am so grateful for all of my body parts that work correctly.  I try to remember how lucky I am that most of my body functions without pain.  My blessings are so vast they are embarrassing.  How many people in the world get 6 healthy, intelligent, fun children?  How many people live in a nice home with electricity, heat, air conditioning, plumbing, t.v., and other conveniences?  In a worldwide perspective, not many.  How many people are lucky enough to have the Gospel of Jesus Christ as a firm foundation for all trials in life?  I'm so fortunate.  I don't know why I have been blessed in mortality with so much more than many of God's children, but I do know that I have an increased responsibility because of my knowledge and blessings.  I know that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, that he came to earth and atoned for our sins, that he died that we might be resurrected.  I know that the family is eternal. I know the things I need to do to return to Heavenly Father.  I am so blessed.  As much as this mouth trial has been difficult, it has given me many opportunities to learn and even some chances to bless other people.  I'm so grateful for the blessings that come from trials.  I hope to be up and blogging again soon!

Surgery Jar: Drops of Faith

This is long. At the end, your computer may or may not magically produce chocolate chip cookies.  Probably not, but hey, it could happen! I just have to write this, whether or not anyone else gets anything out of it, I never want to forget.

In the Bible, Jesus Christ taught a parable about ten virgins.  5 of them were wise and had filled their lamps full of oil so that they would be able to wait the arrival of the Bridegroom.  They couldn't share their oil with the others who were unprepared because then none of them would have enough to await the appointed time.  It had to be prepared ahead of time.

I'm feeling somewhat like one of those young girls with a vessel full of oil at this time in my life.  The oil represents faith. Faith is belief in things we cannot see.  In my church we believe that faith without works is dead, meaning that true faith requires action.  We show our beliefs by acting on them, rather than simply stating a belief in Christ, we try to show it by emulating Him and keeping the commandments.  Faith requires works.
So, maybe my connection here is shaky, but it all is related in some strange convoluted way.  I'm not talking about my faith to endure to the end of my life, but the faith I have had to build up to get me through a trial in my life- my big mysterious mouth problem.  Being a medical mystery is a pretty unpleasant way to be different.

Two years ago one of my teeth broke. It had been hurting when I chewed for months but the dentist couldn't find a cavity.  I rushed to the dentist and he filled the hole, telling me I had a cavity in a weird spot that had caused the cusp of my molar to break off. He assured me everything would be fine.  It should have been fine.  But, it wasn't.  For a few weeks I avoided chewing on that side of my mouth because it had hurt for months before the tooth broke and I was afraid it would still hurt.  Not long after I started chewing again, I suddenly developed tooth sensitivity to cold- shooting pain when I ate or drank anything at all cool. It happened overnight.  It was July 5th, 2010.  I had a 7 week old baby,5 older kids, and no health or dental insurance due to a pre-existing condition.

I made another appointment with the dentist.  He told me to use sensitive toothpaste. The sensitivity remained and I developed pain in all of my teeth.  They felt tight.  They hurt a lot.  My chewing muscles hurt.  My ears hurt. The pain was so intense I couldn't focus on anything else.  I thought I needed a root canal.

I asked my husband for a blessing.  Little did I know that this was when my jar for this trial, then empty, was about to require filling, one little drop at a time.  I thought he would bless me to get through the root canal and be calm. Instead I received the most unexpected priesthood blessing of my life.

He blessed me that if I stayed close to the Spirit, I would be led to the different specialists I needed to find people who would help me.   He blessed me that my family and friends would help me through this difficult time.  He blessed me that eventually I would be healed but I would need patience.

I was shocked.  I was upset.  It was not the blessing I wanted.  But, obviously it was what I needed.  As I sit here, just over two years later, still on my journey of healing for my mouth,  I clearly recognize the blessings of that blessing.  At the time though, it was very discouraging. 

I tried to stay positive and not complain.   My mouth hurt constantly.  The dentist made me a mouthguard.

No change.

He put me on motrin, around the clock for 2 weeks. 

No change.

He gave me antibiotics.

No change. 

Over time, the sensitivity decreased, but new symptoms appeared.  My front teeth started to click when I ate, tiny movements against each other.  I began to hit my teeth at random times while talking.  It would result in pain later.  I developed muscle bracing of my chewing muscles and was unable to relax my muscles at all.  They were constantly in knots.  I would wake up in the night with my teeth chattering violently.  Chewing was difficult.  Talking was hard. My lips were tight around my teeth. 

Every morning when I woke up I desperately hoped that the pain would be gone or that it would lessen. 

It never was. 

So, despite my lack of insurance, and at my dentist's suggestion, I sought other options of care.  I went to see another dentist who specializes in TMJ.  He wanted to crown my tooth, grind my teeth down, and give me a mouth guard- all for $2,500.  I balked at the price and the suggestions and decided to keep looking.  It felt wrong. 

I went to a jaw specialist.  For $500, which included a CAT scan of my head, he told me that I didn't have TMJ. After some strange measuring and prodding, he told me I was grinding and clenching in my sleep due to my terrible bite relationship.  WHAT?  He said I needed braces.Malocclusion.  WHAT????????

I had braces when I was a kid. At this point I had spent $1,000 to find out what was wrong with me.

Still, his answer felt right.  I went to physical therapy and learned everything I could do to reduce my clenching and grinding. I made a lot of changes. It did start to help some. The book "The TMJ Healing Plan" was a great resource. I went to see the orthodontist.  He told me I did need braces, but that I also needed a "little" surgery to expand my palate.  The expansion should have been done when I was a kid, using a palatal expander in my mouth.  I'll never know why my orthodontist did not recommend expansion when it would have been so easy and inexpensive to do to my adolesclent jawbone. 

I went to see an oral surgeon.  He explained the whole procedure.  The short story is they are going to cut my top teeth completely off, cut the bone vertically in a few places, and screw it all back together.  Fun! 
And who knew that much in office 3 hour fun filled surgery would come with a $10,000 price tag. 

We couldn't afford it. And something felt wrong.  I decided to trust my feelings and wait.  Waiting and saving felt right. We waited and we saved.  I waited for about a year.

  I was in pain every single day.

 During that time many well meaning friends and family members made other suggestions to me.  My dentist wanted me to go see a specialist in Kentucky.  Several people thought a different dentist could help or a chiropractor.  About halfway through I saw another orthodontist, who agreed with the first, but wanted to fit me with a full mouthguard that was built up to simulate a good bite, in hopes that it would help my mouth "calm down" before the braces.  This idea sounded great, but for some reason I knew I needed to stick with the first orthodontist. So, I kept waiting. 

After a year, I told my husband I couldn't wait any longer. The pain was going to kill me! And I went in and got the braces. 

Holy guacamole!  They hurt so much more than the first time . I literally couldn't chew anything for 2 months.  NOTHING.  Not even a banana or cottage cheese.  I pre-chewed all my food with a fork and knife, and basically swallowed it whole.  It wasn't pretty. Then, things started to get easier. 

My pain started to lessen!

Every time my braces were tightened I couldn't chew for a week, but it wasn't as bad as what I went through before. 

Eventually the muscle pain disappeared.  The other symptoms still remain to varying degrees.  My bite is still terrible-maybe even worse than before.  I haven't had my surgery yet. My teeth click. They chatter at night. I hit them when I talk sometimes.  I can't bite down at all. I've had two more teeth break from nighttime clenching or getting hit in the face by a child.  I've developed an open bite and I have to tear my food with my side teeth.  It's really cute.  I got thrush and my whole mouth was covered with blisters.  Then I had an allergic reaction to my mouthwash and my lips swelled up like Angelina Jolie.  I have the most NOT boring mouth I know!

I don't care though,because for the past several months the pain has been tolerable and I don't think about my teeth every 3 seconds.  Okay, I'm really starting to wind down here.  I know, this is exhausting. Think about how hard it was to live through. After 8 months of braces, I was surgery ready.  I decided to follow the promptings I felt and visited a different oral surgeon.  I never felt right about the first one.  I went to see a new guy- Dr. Scott Urban.  I liked him right away.  He told me he would never let his wife or daughter have this surgery in his office.  If I hemorrhage, the only thing to do is call 911. It's much safer in the hospital.  He personally called the hospital and bargained with them to get a fixed price for everything, including the required overnight stay.  Yes, this is big bad surgery.  The starting price for the hospital was $30,000.  He talked them down to $13,000 and offered his services for $5,000.  I was so grateful, but despite our best efforts, we have only saved $5,000.  We have been paying for my $5,000 braces and Reuben's at the same time, along with all of the other expenses of 6 kids, we had found no way to save any more, and had been hoping to pay off the balance over a year or two.  $18,000 might as well have been a million. 

I couldn't go into surgery knowing I couldn't pay.  It was time to follow the Spirit again.  I talked to somebody and felt prompted to look into Utah's insurance for uninsurable people again.  I had checked it out before and found it to be too expensive and to have a one year waiting period for pre-existing conditions.  It was going to cost me more money than the surgery to do it with insurance.  But, this time, something had changed.  A federal component of the program now exists.  It's called Federal HIP.  It's still really expensive, but I did the math, and found that I would spend $8,000 to get the surgery and any other care I need before January when the deductible and max out of pocket starts again. 

It was just the silver lining I needed.  All along I've had to go on pure faith- taking action as I am led by the Holy Ghost.  I felt right about this path and followed it. 

I applied for the insurance, knowing that the surgery might not be covered.  The phone rep said it depended on my personal case and that a review would take 30-90 days.  Usually I am a big worrier, but I knew this was right and that it would work out.  At the end of May I heard back that I had the insurance. 

I called the oral surgeon's office to begin the review process to try to get the surgery approved. The insurance book I got in the mail seemed to say in one place that my surgery wasn't covered and in another that it might be covered.  I didn't care.  I knew I was doing the right thing, no matter the outcome. 

I waited and waited.  After 5 weeks, just a few days ago,  I called and asked if they had heard. Not yet.

Yesterday, I went visiting teaching and missed a call from the oral surgeon's office.

It's probably a good thing.

When I listened to the message, I had to pull over to the side of the road so I could cry for a few minutes. That would have been embarrassing on the phone with the receptionist.

They were tears of happiness and relief.  My surgery has been approved! 

Wow! It's been a long journey.  It's been a hard journey.  My personal journal is full of honest descriptions of my pain.  I'm so grateful for the reduced pain I have had the last several months.  And I'm ready for the next big step.  The surgery is going to be intense.  I will probably lose some weight.  Woo hoo! ( as long as I don't gain it back plus some more)  I will lose all feeling in my upper teeth and probably lip.  It might come back in 6 months.  It might never come back.  When I am allowed to chew again after 6-8 weeks, it will be difficult with no feeling in my top teeth.  I will look like a freak for a while, yes guys, like more of a freak than I look like now :) .  But, it's okay. 

This journey has been incredible.  I'm so grateful for the roadmap of faith that I received from that one blessing.  It was critical to me to learn at the beginning that I would be responsible to discern the promptings of the Holy Ghost as I was guided in my care.  I had to rise to the challenge or I knew I would never get better.  I have learned more clearly than ever before to recognize those feelings and trust in them completely.  And I am continuing in my trust.  I know this surgery is the right thing.  I know it will help me.  I am ready to move forward. 

Ahh! Finally, I'm almost done with my huge and extremely personal post.  I just want to end with the story of the surgery jar.  Around the time I got my braces, Clara, my 6 year old, decided to do more than just pray daily for me to get my surgery.  She decided to act on her faith.  Clara found a jar and labeled it "Surgery Jar for Mommy".  She placed her birthday money from Grandma Mary in the jar- $4.  It was all the money she had at the time or had seen for quite a while.  We don't pay allowance right now.  This gesture touched my heart as it would anyone.  I thought she might reclaim the money soon, but I was wrong.  Bit by bit, drop by drop, my little children have given me their pennies, nickles, dimes and quarters, plunking them in this jar of hope.  It's really pitiful how little is in there- maybe $8. But, to me, this jar is full of the fruits of faith.  And I'm ready. Sometime in the next two months I will have my surgery and continue my journey.  I pray that it will be downhill from that point, but if it isn't, I can trust in the blessing I received and know that in the end, there will be healing for me.