A year in the life. And oh, what a year it's been.

Well, it has happened again even though I swore it wouldn't. Another year has gone by (and then some). Another year where I have not posted on ye olde blog. Another year where life has traveled at warp speed and I am meekly trying to keep up.

I'm not going to lie. The past 12 months have been a bit of a doozy. They have brought a lot of tears, worry and fear. But they haven't ALL been bad—we've had some good times too and as any therapist can tell you, it's important to focus on the good while dealing with the bad.

So here is our year in a bit of a generic, Reader's Digest Version of a nutshell. (PS—I am not going to promise anything, but I am going to really try to be back on here more often, even when things get rough. I need the catharsis of writing. Even crappy writing!) 


Nearly one year ago to this week, my dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness. The name of it is "myleofibrosis" and it is a form of leukemia. It slowly (or maybe not so slowly) robs his bones and body the ability to produce red blood cells. Blood cells produce oxygen, so they are kind of important. His spleen is very enlarged and he has no appetite to speak of. He is very, very tired and requires blood transfusions nearly weekly. There is so much more I want and need to say about my Dad and his diagnosis, but tonight is not that night. I can't go there just yet. Just know that what he is dealing with is not good and it is breaking all of our hearts.

Dad and I, July, 2012 

In October, my niece and I ran the Chicago Marathon together. This was a dream realized for the both of us. It was my 12th marathon and Lindsey's first. When she was a very little girl she would watch me run and say "Someday Aunt Lynn, I'm going to run my first marathon with you!" Fast forward 13 years and here we are. Lindsey and I were able to run most of the race together and I finished with my best marathon time ever. (3.33). My dad was able to travel to Chicago along with my Mom and my sister and that made it extra special.

The Expo...

The Veteran Marathoner and the Speedy Newbie

In January I had to have surgery to remove a pesky and cranky uterus. It appears my sisters and I have all been lucky enough to have endometriosis. Mine was/is so bad that it is still kicking around inside my innards. But the good news is my surgery went very well and I bounced back in great time. Three weeks post op had me back out running–gotta love modern technology. I am feeling much better sans uterus and for the most part, am markedly better. That is a good thing.

A picture of my inflatable compression socks. Because I was bored and tethered to the bed and had nothing else to do.

In February we bought a mountain cabin! It is a sweet little place up in Fairplay at around 11, 200 feet. We've enjoyed spending weekends up there and will really enjoy it when the heat becomes unbearable down here at 5280 feet.

Our Cabin in the Oxygen Weak Woods.

Brothers on sleds.

In March, things turned upside down again. While on our way to the airport (we were headed to Ohio to visit my dad and mom), Sawyer started to have seizures. It turns out that was the second one he had that day. So instead of going to the airport, we went straight to the emergency room where they proceeded to run tests. To make a really long and hard story short, (because he continued to have multiple, unexplained seizures) we spent the majority of the weekend in Children's Hospital where Sawyer was diagnosed with epilepsy. "Partial Complex seizures, starting focally and becoming generalized" is the technical term for it. He now is under the care of a very talented neurologist and takes two types of medications to manage the seizures and keep them controlled. As of presstime, we have made it FIVE WEEKS seizure free--and that is HUGE. This is another topic I want and need to talk more about, but am emotionally not prepared to do so at the moment.

My baby. After the longest week of his life.

The rest of the year has been status quo. Liam rocked third grade like a boss. He tested into an advanced math class, joined the chess team (and was ranked!) and was placed into the Talented and Gifted program. He still loves school and is ready to pursue a career in science/engineering/computer programming/research medicine and/or basketball. He has grown SO tall and has not gained a single pound. Long and lean. A big brain on a stick.

Pretty darn good chess player...especially against his mother.

He likes to cook!

Two tickets to the (BB) Gun Show

Sawyer just finished up preschool and will start kindergarten (gulp) in August. He is still quite an ornery and artistic kid with a wicked sense of humor. Here he is cutting up my imaginary uterus: (isn't that just the cutest thing?)

"Do you know what this is? It's your uuuuuuuuderus being cut into pieces!"

As for Mr. Jenner and I...we're good. We're just taking each day as it rolls along. And here is a picture of us, just because.

Me and the Mr. Hiking and fly fishing at RMNP (Rocky Mountain National Park, for you non-locals)

Please Don't Grow So Fast

Liam J. First day of 2nd Grade. Age 7, going on 37.

Last night while Liam and I were having a rare but welcome snuggle on the couch (he's now "too old" to snuggle) he told me, "I decided I am going to save up all of my money." I naturally asked him, "What are you saving your money to buy?" He replied, "I've been thinking and I decided I will save up my money now so when I graduate from college and get married, I'll be able to buy a house right away." I was a bit shocked by his answer, but I know that he is a planner. He already has his life all mapped out.

I asked him, "So who is the lucky person you are going to marry?" He looked at me, annoyed. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that..." (referring to a certain crush he has on a certain adorable, future scientist in his class named "Caitlin"). I said "I am not trying to embarrass you. Your future wife could be anybody. I was just wondering, since you seem so concerned about buying a house and everything, if you had someone picked out already??"  Still clearly annoyed and a bit disgusted by my apparent cluelessness, he said "Mo-o-o-o-o-o-m! Chances are the person I marry I don't even KNOW yet. They are probably someone I'll meet in college!" DUH!

It's moments like this that I sincerely want to cry. He is growing so fast. He has always been growing so fast. He is an old soul and it is painfully clear to us (more so everyday), that he is just biding his time until he can get his life going. We are merely a temporary launch pad. I see it more and more everyday. He is getting more serious. More introspective. More independent. He is pulling away and dodging my hugs and Heaven forbid, my kisses! "Mom!! Please don't kiss me! You may give me a hug, but no kisses." Sigh. It really is enough to break a Mama's heart.

I knew this would happen and I know it is part of their healthy development. Independence is good. It wouldn't be good if he needed and wanted me 24/7. But it still makes me really, really sad. While I love having conversations with the intelligent, sensitive boy he is growing up to be, I would be lying if I said I didn't miss the little, lovable toddler who actually needed me. If only for a little while.

Liam J. Age 2 and forever ago.

I Miss Writing

I have been negligent. Again. I have purposefully been shutting down and tuning out at night and on the weekends. I have intentionally kept myself away from all things creative and I am not exactly sure why. I have the chance to work on some illustrations for a (nonpaying) freelance project but I just can't seem to bring myself to do it. Or even care. I have spent the extra time purposefully doing anything BUT creative endeavors. I resigned myself to the fact that I work at a job I don't love, but tolerate, and that is good enough for right now. It is not creative and the company seems rooted in 1985, but the pay and benefits are good and the people are friendly. And up until a few days ago, I have been totally fine with ignoring that gnawing in my gut. The gnawing that says "something is missing."

But yesterday when I was out running an idea popped into my head for a kid's book. (Yes, yet another children's book.). The feeling was so strong and overpowering that had I the opportunity, I would have run home and started to write and draw it out right then and there. I feel like it is a sign--whether a sign from God or my dying creative self--I feel like it is a sign to try again. Or at least entertain the idea as more than a passing whim.

So last night after the boys went to bed I started to type out some ideas for my story. I continued again tonight and as I typed I realized that I have really missed writing. I don't claim to be any good at it, but I do enjoy it. I always felt like I was never a great artist OR a great writer--that somehow, I needed them both to complete a thought. When I was in college and (briefly) minoring in creative writing, I remember telling the professor "Sometimes when I paint, I struggle because I see the painting as words in my head. And sometimes when I write I struggle, because I see the story as pictures that I can't explain with words." I still feel that way.

I am here to tell you that there is a very real possibility this little story will never see the light of day. More then likely it won't, actually. But for right now, it is a little life preserver that is getting me through the drudgery at work. And maybe because this is a no-pressure endeavor, it might actually have a chance of survival.

Time will tell.

He's a Lover.

 

 

 

 

 

You gotta love a women in uniform. Especially one who drives an ambulance.

Sawyer is in love.

Sawyer is ALWAYS in love.

In the past week he has asked the director at the Preschool to be his girlfriend. He has fallen head over heels for a paramedic AND he has proposed to his teacher. This is just what I am aware of. Who knows how many other proposals and dates and infatuations I am not privy to. A lot of hearts can be won in the course of an 8 hour school day.

When Sawyer first saw Maggie, the paramedic, it was love at first sight. He saw her get out of the ambulance and it was GAME OVER. He walked up to her transfixed. He stood very closely to her then suddenly took her hand. He told me to leave them alone and to "not stand so close to them." He became increasingly annoyed with my presence when she was around. Mom WHO? I was no longer "Lovey Mommy!" but instead, "she who comes between Sawyer and Maggie." I honestly didn't think I'd have that role until he at least entered high school.

When Maggie got called out on an emergency, Sawyer was devastated. He cried for many minutes and could not understand why she had to leave. I explained to him that someone was sick and had an emergency, and Maggie needed to help them. "How come you never called the paramedics when I had pink eye??!!!!" He was indignant. His heart was crushed.

He is a charmer. We see how he has manipulatively learned how to smile a very dimpled grin to get what he wants. He knows that if he looks at you with those big blue eyes, hearts will melt and cookies will appear. He has mastered the art of the flirty gaze.

Women of the future (and not-so distant future), consider yourselves warned.

Snuggle Bunny

Sawyer is a snuggle-er. It is quite possibly one of his favorite things to do. Back in the days when I didn't have to be out of the house before the boys woke up, Beanie and I would spend the first part of our mornings snuggling. He would wake up, come running into our room then climb into bed beside me, quite often waking me up from a coma-like sleep. Over time I grew to habitually wake early enough to wait for him to crawl into bed beside me and snuggle in close. I would wait to hear the door open and then see that blonde head come bouncing across the floor.

But lately due to a very heavy project load and an equally short deadline, I have to be up early and out of the house before the boys (and most of the civilized world) are up and about. Most weekdays I don't get to see them until I pick them up in the early evening. And I *hate* it. I totally loathe it. It makes my day start off-kilter and I wander around feeling like I have forgotten to do something important.

This past Saturday, Beanie popped into our room bright and early and said "Mommy!!! It's the weekend! You don't have to go to work and I don't have to go to school! We can SNUGGLE!!!!" And so we did. Liam (who is not normally prone to fits of snuggling) joined us a few minutes later and the three of laid there for a half hour chatting and giggling. (Daddy was already up and about).  I think Liam (aka Mr. Independent) might even admit that he misses seeing his Mom in the mornings, but not nearly as much as his mom misses seeing him.

At first Sawyer would cry when he woke up and I wasn't here. He would sit on the floor by the empty bed and cry. But sadly now, he is used to me being gone in the mornings (although he admitted to Grandma he tries to wake up early so he can see me before I go). So I try to make a game of it. I leave them a note and a quick drawing each morning so they have something to let them know I was thinking of them. Right now they seem to enjoy it. It's not much, but it is something.

Are there times when I would like to have the opportunity to sleep in past 6:30 on the weekends? Sure. But would I trade my early morning snuggles and my giggly little boy conversations about silly dreams, breakfast cereal and "gross things animals eat"? Not a chance.

Sawyer values the importance of quality Snuggle Time. Even at 5:30 at night.

Once there was a tree...

Last night, I read the boys one of my favorite books, "The Giving Tree", by Shell Silverstein. If you are not familiar with the book, it is the story of a boy and a tree. The book starts with the young boy being inseparable from the tree, but as time goes by, the boy outgrows the tree and only comes back to visit her when he wants something. The tree, although saddened by the boy's absence, finds great joy in making him happy by giving all that she can to insure his happiness–even at the expense of her own well being.

After the story, Liam asked me "Mom, what do you think that book means?"

I told him that I thought it was an analogy of being a parent. No matter how much time goes by, we will love our children unconditionally and give them anything we can in order to help them out and make them happy.

I finished tucking each boy in and Liam looked at me and said , "I think it means something different. I think, the book is trying to tell us that just when we think we have given all we can, we can always find a way to give more."

(Have I mentioned how smart my children are?)

In all of the years I have been reading that story, I have never, ever once thought of it from that perspective. I always read it and thought "look how much she gives!" and Liam read it and thought "look how much MORE she is capable of giving!" It really made me stop and think. A lot. Am I giving all that I can everyday? I know at the end of a very long day when I am tired, and cranky and confronted with all that still needs to be done, I certainly feel like I am. But have I really? Or am I merely giving out a slim ration of myself? The ration I am willing to part with?

With the beginning of this new year, I am promising to give more. And by "give more" I actually mean, be more in the present. Listen more. Laugh more. Give more of myself to the ones who really matter. The joy really is in the giving.

And the tree was happy.

Where have I been?

Blink.

Summer is waning. Where have I been? How did it pass so quickly? While the thermometer still screams "Summer Heat Record!"...the calendar now suggests otherwise.

We knew when we moved in late May that it would be this way. Every weekend was bookmarked and planned and reserved for some event (weddings, trips, races, etc.) and now we are in September and just when I thought we could sit back and relax...the dates on the calendar are filling in again.

I feel like life is moving at warp speed and I can't keep up. My house is a mess and not decorated or even fully unpacked, my babies are not babies any more and everyday feels like I am trying to catch up to the one before.

Liam started second (second!!) grade and already talks of going to college, having a job, getting his license and buying a car and being an architect/engineer (he has moved away from being a Pilot--now he wants to design the planes they fly. And design rollercoasters too when he has time). He loves school and knowledge and would go to class everyday if he could. He is already very smart and teeters on the brink of knowing more then I do already. It has become painfully clear to us that he is just biding his time until he can move out on his own. Our house is just a temporary holding plan in this Big Life he has planned. He tells me reassuringly, 'Don't worry Mom! Even when I am older and have my own place we'll still see each other and you can come visit anytime each of us wants!" Hmmm. I wonder if he will still feel this way 13 years from now...

Sawyer is nearly four and is happily into his Preschool 2 routine. It took him a few weeks of adjusting but he handled it fabulously. It probably took him even less time to once again amass a harem of girls. He has told me that he has been told by the teachers on more then one occasion, "We don't kiss our friends in Preschool, Sawyer". That child is a lover, pure and simple. He will squeeze me with such intensity and love that I hear his teeth grind together. He is funny and imaginative and will play for hours on end uninterrupted, if allowed to do so. He also has a wicked sense of humor for a child of only 3.75 years. Already, he knows how to get a laugh through words and mannerisms. I see "class clown" in his future.

I love these boys--all three of them--more then words can say. I once again am here to remind myself to slow down and enjoy it--craziness and all.