The inevitable follow-up

Ok, now that I've got everyone nice and concerned, let me just clarify and explain a few things.

1) First of all, Dan wants to make it known that while I was writing that last blog post, he was cleaning our gross kitchen. Dishes are his purview. And it looked amazing by the time I had clicked the "publish" button. The reason we are having a hard time keeping up with cleaning is because we are all sick (except Asher) and it literally takes 3 hours to feed Ezra 2-4 ounces of liquid. More on that later.

But seriously, Dan is amazing.

2) Many people don't believe me when I say I'm not depressed. Please do believe me. I'm not. I know what depression feels like. I am anxious and very worried. I get frustrated and scared and stressed out. But I am not depressed. I am working through super hard stuff, not crying through it in a fetal position in my closet.

3) Ezra does sleep, and usually he sleeps through the night. He is crying less when we put him down, I think because he cries so much through his feedings and it tires him out. He really seems like he is getting well (finally) but he has been on the mend earlier and then gotten sick again. We are hoping for no relapse, and we are hoping that his breathing clears up. We believe this is a huge part of why he won't eat.

4) I am not exclusively addicted to Facebook. Somehow, that sounds more pathetic than being addicted to your computer. I check in on Facebook a lot because I am already on the computer. (I am an introvert and that is how I connect with people. It is what I do instead of talking on the phone or going on lunch dates or something. I can give like 10 compliments in one minute to 8 different people on Facebook.) What do I actually do online? I read articles and research things for Ezra's special needs, or about parenting, or about any topic that is of interest to me. It's like reading the newspaper. I have no interest in "reality TV" type stuff, unless it is about the psychology of people and why they watch it. I also have two books I'm writing, and I work on those... on my computer. So sometimes online I am researching how to write query letters, or finding out if the term "eskimo kiss" is offensive, or looking up paint color names, etc. All of these things are distractions from how harrowing it is to feed Ezra sometimes. Or how tired I am. Or I'm just working. Whatever.

5) The only reason why I want people to "take my children away" is because I feel like I cannot spend the time they need right now. It is very hard to deal with a raspy special needs crying hunger-striking baby at times. I love all of my children and it is sad that I don't have the time or energy to help effectively with homework, or play with them, or talk to them, or make them meals that they won't complain about. Beyond how nice it would be for me to not have responsibility for them for a while to give myself a break, I think of how nice it would be for them to have a break from being around a stressed out messy household. It would be a re-set for all of us. I would miss them, but I've been exposed to stressful circumstances for a long period of time. Honestly, when a friend came two days ago to take Ezra to her house for three hours with instructions to try to get him to eat as much as possible, that was HUGE. She got him to drink 2 ounces of Pediasure, and that was a battle that I didn't have to fight. I was responsible for zero children for 3 hours. While I am with my children, I am usually happy and loving... but my brain is also very full. I think of what their needs are, what I need to do for them. Usually this is fine, but if their needs are high it overwhelms me. I still try to get everything done, it's just harder and more stressful... and more disappointing when I can't accomplish anything. When someone else has my kids (not just my husband who is still in the house with them) my load feels lighter. You know, because it is no longer there. The empty space in my brain is staggering.

6) I did not mean to say that bringing a meal is not helpful. It is very helpful. It means I don't have to go out and get fast food, or spend time I don't have in the kitchen, or feel guilty about anything. What I said was it doesn't solve my problem, and that is true. I wouldn't need meals if Ezra wasn't flipping out about food. My problem is Ezra's attitude towards using his mouth (his philosophy this last month has been "scream, don't eat"). So thanks to my friend Emily and more thanks to the people who will bring me food throughout the month. You are golden. It really does relieve some stress, and I am grateful.

So hey, I'm sorry if I was a little harsh with my delivery. I want you to close your eyes (not yet, read this first) and imagine that you have a crying baby (who should be a toddler) who will not eat. In fact, he has never even exhibited hunger cues, he doesn't know the connection between eating and feeling better. He is the same weight he was ten months ago. Doctors are worried, which makes you worried. His skin looks a little saggy, and his normally cheery disposition has changed. His pee is so concentrated it is brown, and he hasn't had a messy diaper in two weeks. If you even put him in a feeding position, he arches his back like a contortionist and screams with all his might. You know he needs to eat, but he just will not. You have other things you need to do, but you spend all of the baby's waking moments either worrying about him not eating or trying to feed him. You try different methods, different spoons, bottles, syringes, different beverages, different positions. You try to distract with television, rocking, singing, beatboxing, dancing, funny faces, jumping up and down, talking, louder, softer, sweeter, firmer, all at once, nothing at all. You give it a rest, but you have to try again, because eating is important. Sometimes you catch a break and your beautiful baby eats a little bit and smiles. You think this is the beginning of "back to normal" but you find out soon that it is not. Your other kids are coughing, your spouse is really sick. You don't feel so hot yourself. When the baby sleeps you have stuff to do, but also you are a little shell shocked. This isn't just a bad day, it is repeated for days, weeks, a month. And you aren't just watching someone do this to your child like nurses administering shots, technicians getting x-rays, nurses forcing him to swallow barium for the tests. YOU are the torturer. Over and over. Ok, can you picture it? Can you understand how or why I might be a little stressed? I hope so. I'm mentally sound, anyone would feel frustrated in these circumstances. At least, I think so. That might be what a crazy person would say.

FYI we have a feeding specialist coming tomorrow (YAY!) and a follow up appointment with a pediatrician about his pneumonia. The day after that we start having friends over daily to either take Ezra or stay here and work on his eating. I really didn't think people could be of much help with Ezra, because if the people he loves most couldn't make him eat, then I assumed other people (who sometimes scare him and make him cry) couldn't be helpful. But when Eliza fed him some of a bottle and Melanie got some applesauce in him, I became hopeful. I am on cloud nine just thinking about people coming to help if they can make him eat. We are getting 3 meals a week for the rest of February. We have a consultation for a GI specialist to talk about his absorption and the possibility of a G-tube. My mom called and said she would like to come and help when we need it. People have been calling with ways they can help us, and honestly we are almost overwhelmed by all the love and assistance. Friends have come to clean, people are fasting and praying for Ezra, it is raining in our desert.

I just want to express my thanks to friends who have written and called to comfort me and give me solace, to friends who are willing to sacrifice time or money or energy to help us out. It is hard to know when I need help sometimes, because hard things become my "normal." Thanks for telling me how abnormal this situation is, and for offering me the helping hands that I need.      

Hard Knock Life

For some reason, a few people have requested a blog post. An update of my super difficult life. Well, your wish is my command, but be careful what you wish for.

A picture of happier times... about a pound and a half ago.

Today Ezra won't eat... much like yesterday and the day before. This morning I had to pump and squeeze milk from a bottle into his mouth while holding him in a headlock as he bucked and cried and choked. This is how we do things now. And I'm drying up, so I don't know what to do about that.

Ezra had a chest x-ray after seeing a pediatrician yesterday. (I'm glad they could squeeze us in, and I'm more glad that Dan went instead of me, because I'm usually on doctor patrol and I hate it. It takes all day and they just tell you how many things are wrong with you and your child while said child cries and doesn't sleep. Want to be stressed out? Go to the doctor. Preferably more than one specialist a day.) Anyway, they saw something on his lungs and we are treating him for pneumonia. We feed him his medicine much like we feed him his milk, as he screams and cries. We are supposed to make eating a pleasant experience for him, and not push him. With his sensory issues and his other problems he could become adverse to eating for the rest of his life if we screw this up. But we need to feed him something somehow, because he is now less than 17 pounds. He is slowly starving. And he prefers starving to eating.

Ezra doesn't fall asleep on his own anymore. He cries off and on for an hour or so until he finally passes out. If we rock him, he will wake up if we move. And even if we don't move a muscle, he can't sleep for longer than a few minutes on someone. If we keep him up, he gets crazy tired and freaks out even more when you put him down to sleep. Most days my head feels like it is on the verge of exploding.

All of us are some level of sick. I've been feeling like I am coming down with something for weeks. I'm achy, my throat hurts, I'm tired. Ezra has had some hard nights where he has woken up in the middle of the night and won't go back to sleep, or he's gotten up really early. Dan and I have sacrificed some sleep. We don't feel good. Asher and Gwen are home from school today because they wouldn't go to sleep last night until after 10:00. They just kept getting up and complaining. Asher seems the least sick, in fact, he might even be well. He was sick last week, and he seems to have the strongest immune system. I was too lazy and tired to take him to school, although I was pissed off that he and Gwen would be home all day. I told him that he needs to take care of us all, but that obviously won't happen because he's not old enough. He will play on his own and make messes and occasionally fight with Gwen. He will use the TV so I can't watch what I want to watch. We are giving Gwen Ezra's breathing treatments because she is sick and coughing and crying and WHO CARES who's name is on the meds? They are helping her. Ezra's getting breathing treatments too, because he is so snotty and he can't breathe. He is not a fan of the treatments. He is not a fan of anything.

My kids are late to school approximately 90% of the time.

Our house is a MESS. It is laughable, really. We have ants and there are dirty dishes and food everywhere around the kitchen. Every room in our house (excepting the piano room, we must keep up appearances) looks like someone detonated a bomb of clothes, dust, toys, books, and filth. The kids bathroom has toothpaste everywhere and two nights ago Gwen woke up in the middle of the night and peed her pants on the bathroom floor. I still haven't taken care of that. At least it wasn't in her bed, but actually that might have been easier to clean. I try to clean things. I clip my kids nails, I give baths, I provide clean underwear. I do the laundry and take out the trash and try to mop and organize things, but it doesn't help. The mess compounds faster than I can work. And did I mention that I was sick, and bone-tired? And I've been caring for a handicapped baby who won't stop crying and has pneumonia?

So many times I have typed paragraphs on Facebook and erased them without posting. Nobody wants to hear it, nobody really cares. I mean, they feel bad and they will pray for us, but what I'm going through can't affect people, they can't really help me. They are living normal lives with normal children going through normal things. Some of their moments are happy, some are frustrating or sad. People just want to live their own lives, and I get it. If my friend had a handicapped baby who was going through a severe rough patch I wouldn't really want to get in the middle of that either. I might pray for them and make them a meal, but I would probably walk away thinking how nice it was that I didn't have to go through that in my own life, and I would absentmindedly feed my children and sleep a normal amount and that would be that. I am in the 7th circle of hell right now. What can people possibly do about it? I don't want to bring others down, I don't want to be a constant complainer. I will type something like "I'm obese and gross-looking and I can do nothing about it. My handicapped baby refuses to eat and I can do nothing about it. My house is a mess, which I probably could do something about, but it would take me a month of uninterrupted work. I'm tired all the time, and I feel like I'm being tortured." Then: delete, delete, delete. Because, what could possibly come of those words?

Yesterday I did not delete. I posted that Ezra had pneumonia. Before that I posted "Did anybody ever read Goodnight Mr. Tom? It's pretty messed up, from what I recall. I remember in Jr. High thinking 'Wow, I hope I never get locked in a closet with a baby for weeks as it screams and slowly dies of starvation in my arms.' Well, I'm pretty sure I'm living the dream, folks. And yes, it's as fun as it sounds." These posts have gotten me some sympathy and a friend is bringing us a meal tonight. I feel like I am going to die from over-exposure to torturous experiences over the last year. A meal brought? Wonderful. Better than nothing. Someone is being kind to us. I really appreciate it, for real. Does it fix my situation? Not even a little bit. 

What I need is someone to take my kids away from this house for about a week. A feeding expert that can deal with Ezra. I don't care if he gets physical therapy or whatever, just make him eat food and drink. Take him to the doctor. Get up when he cries in the night and hold him although most of the time it doesn't help. Any nurse-Mary Poppins's out there? Anyone? I will gladly go into debt to pay you. And yes, you need to take them away, you can't stay here, it's too gross. 

Sometimes I imagine ways out of my situation. Running away? Surgery? Mental institutions? Prison? You do not know how blissful solitary confinement sounds. The problem is I would never be able to do anything to get there. I'm too upstanding a citizen. Will extreme grumpiness get me thrown in the clink? Because I am definitely getting meaner and grumpier.   

Also, I am addicted to my computer. It is my drug of choice. I need to escape my reality quite often through the day. I need to write or read or post something funny on Facebook so that I can have a little lift in my life. Sometimes though, I see bad news and get sad. Sometimes I see good news and get sad. --Oh, you just had your 5th child and you look like a supermodel? How nice for you. You have a typical baby who had a little ear infection but he's on the mend? Oh, and look at how well he's wolfing down that food and how much he's giggling? Super. Most of the time I really can rejoice with people in their happiness and good fortune, but sometimes it is part of my torture. Especially when things are really bad around here. 

Dan took a day off yesterday to be in charge of Ezra. It was... amazing. I felt like I could fly, like I had just done the best drug on Earth. But then his time was up, and my time started again, and it was like being punched in the face with a brick. Poor Dan thought he was helping... and he was, he was. But it was like a cool breeze in the midst of the burning desert: the breeze goes away and you are still dying, but now you have the memory of the cold air to make your burning all the more painful. What would be helpful, truly helpful, is removing me from the desert to some place where I won't slowly turn into a shriveled ash heap. But I just can't find my magic lamp. I think the genie is on vacation, anyway. 

And, just so you know... miraculously I am not depressed. My situation sucks rocks and there are entire days and weeks that I just have to power through, but I don't need medicine to cope. (But drugs and wine, on the other hand... kidding.) I love my children even though thinking of physically caring for them while they re-infect each other in a never ending cycle of coughing, sickness, and complaining makes me want to jump off a cliff.* Ezra is learning not to like me, but he sometimes smiles, and that is nice. My body is humungous and uncooperative and sick, but I still want to live in it (but please, genie, make it smaller for heaven's sakes!). I would love, LOVE to change about ten things about my situation, but I can't. I'm on a Facebook page for kids with 13q deletion and some of those parents have it worse than me, believe it or not. I can still count a few blessings. So don't feel bad for reading this and then awkwardly shuffling away from my horrendous problems. Maybe I'll find someone that I can pay to come over and save my sanity, but probably I won't. Unless you are my 13q deletion baby whisperer, you can do nothing for me. I suffer hardship and literal headaches every day, but I'm still hanging on to the ends of the fraying rope of my existence. Some people just get dealt crappy hands, and it's the hard knock life for us. Maybe "this too shall pass," but probably not. 

Hope you enjoyed the update. Sorry, it's the best I can do. 

*Please don't think I would actually jump off a cliff. I am a dramatic individual that uses hyperbole and is extremely scared of heights. 

Diagnosis and Feelings

When I was about 20 years old I was working at Young Singers Club. We had a small children’s ensemble that rehearsed at the Labero Theater practice rooms. One day during practice one of the little boys had an episode of some kind… he couldn’t breathe. He was a small and frail boy. He had some sort of handicap, but he was so sweet and he loved to sing. During his emergency the other kids started to panic, which only made his problem worse. The only adults in the room were the program director and me, and she asked me to help him while she stayed with the other kids. I quickly and calmly took him into the bathroom and shut the door. I sat down on the dirty floor and held him on my lap. I talked to him soothingly and told him that he would be fine. I told him to breathe with me, in and out, in and out. I heard his sister crying outside of the door calling her mom on the phone and asking if he was going to die. I just held him and smiled at him and kept breathing with him, in and out. His breathing got slower and better. He was fine. And I remember the thought coming to me very clearly: I think I’m going to have a special needs child some day.

I forgot about this event until recently.    

Ezra has been diagnosed with a rare genetic disorder called 13q deletion. The specific part of the chromosome that is deleted is 33.1. There are only hundreds of cases that have ever been recorded and every case seems different, but there are several common traits: small head, wide-set eyes, wide nose bridge, hand and feet anomalies, skull issues, low muscle tone, and lung problems. Those are the common traits that Ezra has. There are several more that are on the list that he does not have, and we are grateful. For instance, every case I have read involves feeding problems and/or failure to thrive. Ezra has always eaten well (thanks to lots of trying and non-traditional positioning) and has grown beautifully. 

Rocking the helmet. I kinda like it white. 

It also seems that almost every child with this disorder has learning delays and physical delays. Who knows how it will affect Ezra. There is a case of a child with 13q deletion running at two years old, and others of children who cannot walk at four. His physical therapy seems to be helping him, so I’m hopeful in that department. Most cases report that children have a hard time learning to read, write, and speak. They also report a shortened life span, but I don’t know what this means for our boy. We have some answers, but we still have many questions. Some of those questions can only be answered with time. 

When I first got the news I took it well, but I cried anyway. I was shocked and overwhelmed. I mourned for the future that I had unconciously imagined for him. I was scared about what this diagnosis meant. How severely will it manifest? How will it affect Ezra? How will it affect our family? I still have those questions, but they don’t make me as anxious as they once did. Dan did not cry. He is a man who takes things a step at a time, and not much can shock him. The only time he teared up was when we sat our older kids down and told them about Ezra’s special circumstances. He told them that he knew they would be wonderful older siblings to Ezra because of their goodness and the love that they have for him. They really do show such love and devotion to their baby brother. 

Bath time boy, no helmet. 

 I have thought a lot about this situation, and I really have come to view it as a blessing. Ezra is the happiest and sweetest baby, and I get to interact with him every day. I get to serve him. I get to be his mother. He gets to teach our family about empathy and compassion and patience. If it turns out that he can’t speak well, we will all get to learn sign language or another way to communicate. Ezra's name means "help"-- he will need help and he will be a tremendous help to others. We are the lucky ones who get to be with him the most. There was a 1 in several million chance that I would have a baby with 13q deletion, and I won the lottery. I would not trade Ezra for the world. 

(PS I need to say that many people have prayed and fasted for Ezra and for our family, and we are so grateful. We are humbled and we love you all.)   

Mr. E

Ezra does not have a diagnosis yet. 

The last time I posted about him I think we were here: head x-ray, CT scan, cardiologist, urologist, ENT. 

We have now added: geneticist, neurologist, cranial technicians, physical therapist, hip x-rays, chest x-rays, extra doctor check ups. 

Our "to do" list: get him in a helmet ("like, yesterday" the neurologist said over a month ago- don't worry, it is being made), see another physical therapist through "early intervention", breathing treatments, see a pulmonologist, go back to the geneticist and the neurologist and of course the cranial technicians weekly. I might be forgetting some stuff. I don't really have an organized brain by nature. 

So far the steroids aren't improving his labored breathing... but he doesn't seem to mind either way.  

Ezra usually sleeps well, and he is a very sweet and aware baby. Most of the doctors and specialists have noticed that he is very social. He enjoys attention and people most of the time. 

He is a good baby, and that's a good thing, because I'm worn out. If he cries for no reason, I sometimes get disproportionately frustrated or upset. 

Sometimes I'm really stressed. I have to give Ezra physical therapy several times a day, most of which he doesn't like. Deep pressure on hands, feet, and back along with lots of neck stretching, assisted tummy time, side lying time, and "sitting" time. He has extremely low muscle tone all over his body. He is getting better with the therapy, but the effort weighs on me. And of course, this is on top of the responsibilities inherent in having a baby. Feeding, changing, cleaning blow-outs or spit up, bathing, grooming, loving, scheduling, laundering. 

Then there is worrying. I was never much of a worrier AT ALL, but now I have to think about unpleasant things all the time. They are my responsibility. Nobody else is going to make appointments, take Ezra to those appointments, make sure nothing is overlooked, and do the unpleasant things that need to be done every day. I don't want to think about these things, but if I don't, Ezra will not get the care he needs. And I still occasionally miss an appointment or I don't do enough therapy during the day. I have other kids after all, and a mind that doesn't do well with organizing and scheduling. 

And believe me, I don't worry about needless things. When Asher became old enough to stop hurling himself off the top of stairs and into pools and off of jungle gyms, I stopped following him around. I am the laziest parent of all time. I will take the easiest non-worrying route any chance I get. But if nobody else is worrying about important things, I guess it is my job.  

Not to make this post a rant or anything, but I just need to say how I feel about this next thing. Some people are like "Oh, he's fine. He's normal. Don't worry about it. He'll be fine." When people have this attitude it brings out the rage in me. I want to punch them in the throat. He is not normal. If he were, we wouldn't be spending all of our time and money on all these specialists. I have known from the moment I saw him that something was not quite right. And no, my pediatrician is not over-doing it. She knows a lot and sees a lot of babies. She is trying to rule things out and help make his conditions better. And yes, most likely Ezra will be fine after all of this. But he is not fine right now. Do you know what is going to make him "fine" in the end? A lot of hard work and dedication from me and a team of doctors. I need to be active in this. I cannot kick back and stop worrying.

This was back when his head was not as bad. 

I must confess that sometimes I look at him from certain angles and I cringe because his head is so misshapen, but he is still beautiful to me. Sometimes I don't want to get out of bed because of the daily grind, but I do it because I love Ezra with my whole heart. He is so precious.


Bonus: Here's a picture of a child about to get a chest x-ray. Can you believe that they put kids in this mechanism? It reminds me of a cross between a torture device and Augustus Gloop going up the pipe in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. 

PS This baby is a lot less purple and screaming than Ezra was. Also, Ezra is younger than this baby and has less ability to hold himself up. I held his hands at the top. I was shaking like a leaf an hour after this appointment.

The Circle of Life

Hannah was our flower girl. 

It doesn't seem possible, but she is a bride now. 

And she chose Gwen as her flower girl. 

Cue the Lion King music. 

On May 24th, Hannah Hixon married Arthur Adams in the Gilbert temple. It was a beautiful wedding. The best part was when the parents gave their congratulations to the couple. Hannah's dad just hugged her and sobbed. We weren't sure he was going to let her go. Then he did, and he was smiling. 

It must be strange to be under 40 and marrying off a child. Stephen and Rachel are very young for this milestone. But Arthur is a good guy. And Hannah is the best. So it's a happy kind of strangeness.

Dan was their photographer, and he got some great pictures. It was really hard for me to choose which shots to include on this post. 

I love the casual and fun bridesmaid outfits.

 The reception was the best I had ever seen. Seriously. It was totally Pinterest worthy. 

The colors were black and white and gold, and they had it in the most beautiful back yard. Stephen and Rachel built and painted the checkered dance floor, because they are awesome. (I know who is helping me when Gwen gets married!) 

The receiving line was in front of this amazing gold framed chalkboard. One of their friends just happens to be a graphic designer and created a wedding logo for them. It is his chalk work you see on the picture above and the Ice Cream booth below.

  

I can't post pictures of every detail, but it was so gorgeous! There were custom made tablecloths and runners, lights and lanterns strung through the trees, blown up engagement and bridal pictures in quirky frames, and an adorable cake table. The music was fantastic. The bride and groom zip-lined to the dance floor to do their choreographed first dance. (She changed into a different white dress for that.) When it was time for their send-off, they rode a gold tandem bicycle through a gauntlet of sparkler-holding guests. 

It was magical. 

Congrats to Hannah and Arthur. May your marriage be as beautiful as your party.   ;)

Easter, etc.

Gwen and Asher became violently ill the day before Easter. We are normally a pretty healthy family, so this was a surprise. I was semi-prepared for the big day. I was hoping to dye eggs on Saturday night. Instead the kids were still sick and I was feeling gross. I'd been cleaning bathrooms and buckets and spots out of the carpet. I was not in the mood to fully prepare, nor did I think that Easter candy was a good idea. I told the kids that the Easter Bunny doesn't visit sick houses until they are better. Asher was sad, but he kept himself from crying. 

So Dan went to church Easter Sunday by himself. After church, two of my book club friends independently stopped by and dropped off some Easter treats for us... it was so thoughtful! Elaine brought some flowers for me (and some secret peeps for the kids). Meghan brought little Easter buckets with toys and treats for each child. What sweet friends I have.

We were all feeling a bit better by the end of the day, so we planned to go to the temple. First Gwen and Asher water colored two hard boiled eggs each- fast and easy. Then we went and read the story of Easter right in the shadow of the Gilbert temple. It felt good.

   

Ezra by the temple gates. 

When we returned home, the Easter Bunny had come after all! The kids found eggs that had puzzle pieces inside. They put the puzzle pieces together and followed the clue to the pantry where they found their easter baskets. It was belated, but fun. 

Last Friday our church had a Daddy-daughter dance for girls 3-11. It is such a cute thing to do, and Gwen loved it. She of course picked out her own outfit and hairstyle. She has a very strong opinion, but is usually also very sweet. We just love her.  

I spy a matching pink tie. :)

We also had S&R Hixon, the Stecks, and Amy over for dinner on Saturday for "talk and tacos." That is always fun. 

Tuesday night we had Hannah and her fiancé Arthur over for dinner. Dan will be taking their wedding photos soon, and Gwen is their flower girl. I think that is a pretty awesome circle of life, since Hannah was one of our flower girls. 

Asher and I left before dinner was over... he had 1st grade music night at his school. We sat through an interactive presentation where we heard what they were learning. At the end, we all split into groups and performed a simple song together. Asher and I got drums (yay!) but our only job was to beat once every four beats. It was still fun. Asher was so excited the whole time.

P.S. I'm eating paleo style now, which means no refined carbs, sugars, or dairy. It isn't so bad, and I hope I lose weight and eventually get some more energy. This blog makes it seem like we are kinda busy, but we are not. These are literally the only things we are doing.

P.P.S. I finished sewing a baptism dress for Gwen's preschool teacher's daughter. I made it out of Miss Kerri's wedding dress, and it turned out well. I wish I had a picture, but I don't. Maybe if she posts one to Facebook I'll steal it and put it up here. :)  

Festival, Field Trips, and Fun

On the very last weekend of March we visited the Renaissance Festival for the second time ever. 

We started our afternoon with the joust. I thought the kids would dig it, but I think they were really hot so they couldn't appreciate it while it was happening. They seem to like it more in retrospect. Oh well. 

If we were hot, how did those riders feel? And their horses?? 

I tried to feed Ezra in the arena, but that was impossible and he hated it. So we found a nice little spot of dirt around the corner from a show. Dan and the kids watched a fiery sword swallower and went off to buy a fake sword while I was fending off several crazy people with tattoos and brown teeth trying to see the baby under his cover and talk to me about breastfeeding. 

We got in for a total of $10 somehow, so we spent some money on stuff inside the faire. Gwen got a fairy wand, Asher got a painted wooden sword, and they got to go on the man-powered ride below. We also ate food: sausage on a stick, pizza, and a bread bowl. We didn't go for the "turkey legg."

I borrowed a more comfy baby carrier from my friend, and it was great for me, but Ezra did not like it. He does not like to be carried for some reason. So Dan propped him up somehow in the stroller, and he had a fantastic time in there. 

See how much fun he is having? At least my Chunky Monkey is not crying. 

We enjoyed the small petting zoo, we saw part of a falcon show, the kids played at the playground, and we saw a contact juggler (he has one ball and it rarely leaves contact with his body). I learned how to do that in college along with everyone else in the BFA so it wasn't earth-shaking... but he was pretty good. Last but not least as we were leaving the festival we saw Twig the Fairy. She is basically the Disney Princess of the Ren Fest. She gave our kids special rocks and played Gwen a little tune on her crazy flute thing.

   

Dan thought this sign was hilarious. 

Last week Gwen had another field trip... this time to the grocery store! I thought it was a funny thing to do since she's been to that grocery store many, many times with me. But we had a guide and the kids lined up and marched through the store. They got to tour through the back and feel how cold the freezer and refrigerator sections were. They got to have small snacks in all the sections and some of them were chosen to be leaders of fruits, veggies, etc. Gwen got to be the leader of dairy. She had a little laminated card necklace and everything. At the end, they pretended to buy something and check it out. Gwen chose a Red Bull. Ha. They got some goody bags as well, and Gwen just couldn't stop talking about hers. She is such a cute wanna-be grown up. 

Dan and I saw Copperstar's production of Oliver at the Mesa Arts Center last weekend. We were invited as VIP guests for the opening. It was a good show and I really enjoyed it. It was also fun to see so many people with whom I have worked in the past. 

  

Last but not least, my Mom flew in on Friday, and we attended another performance at the Mesa Arts Center Saturday night. 

We don't know why, but the trees at the MAC were wearing sweaters.

I knew she would love it because she is a fan of Glenn Beck, and also because I know she loves good music. The EVMCO did a presentation of patriotic and religious songs- narrated by Mr. Beck. The first song they did was "How Great Thou Art" and it brought down the house. The choir and orchestra is made up of over 1300 volunteers of all ages, and they were all out singing. The children appeared in the balcony and the youth were surrounding the audience, it was amazing. I know quite a few people in the choir and orchestra, so that was really fun for me as well. Apparently the whole show will be available on iTunes, but I'm glad we saw it live. I have never been to a show where there were 5 standing ovations. 

P.S. All of them were completely deserved.