They're out to get me.

Two against one. Them against me. That's how February has been so far (and maybe the last few days of January too). They're tag-teaming terrorists and they are seriously out to get me, these children of mine.

Crazy One.

Specializing in attitude, back-talk, tantrums and the occasional use of physicality on the playground--not ok.

Crazy Two.

Specializing in sleep-deprivation torture, screaming fits about everything, spitting out food, and biting Mommy with his new razors, over and over and over.

I need a nap. And they do too. Anyone else glad that February is a short month? 1

Other random Januaryisms...

Talmage got a Mr. Potato Head for Christmas from Uncle Chase and has seriously played with it everyday since. He loves it, and can spend hours putting together faces and then taking it apart.

My boys and I spent Sunday morning planning our dream Disneyland vacation. And if you think I'm kidding, I'm not. We watched video after video of every ride in the park. We toured Mickey and Minnie's houses, and Talmage has declared that the train rollercoaster will be his first ride. (He also told me that he's scared of Dumbo the elephant and "does not want to fwy, fwy, fwy wif him.") We were all laughing and giddy. I am pretty sure I am a five-year-old in a Mommy's body.

T and I built a space ship together when Evie was taking a nap. He said he wanted a T and an L on it. T, of course, is for Talmage. When I asked him what the L was for he looked at me, almost shocked, and said, "L is for lion." Duh, mom. Get with the program. We took quite a few space trips to the moon and to mars. We also took a rocket-boat ride to Sacramento and Stanfor Cisco (San Francisco).

My parents suprised me with a glider and ottoman (to help with the nighttime nursing). It's been a dream at night, and we've also loved sitting together during the day and reading books. It feels good to be home with both of my boys again.

Seven.

Everett has been in our lives now for seven months. A part of me feels like it's been a whole lot longer--two heart surgeries and a lot of worry will do that to you. The other part of me still thinks of him as my newborn. Yes, I know he's now closer to one than zero, but I can't help it. He's so much smaller than T was as a baby (he weighs the same now as Talmage did at 4 months old) and I forget that in actuality he is growing older with each passing day. He is very much still my baby--he likes to cuddle, he prefers mama's milk to baby food anyday, he doesn't sit up or scoot and he sometimes (but rarely) rolls over. But at the same time, we have seen a new spunky side of Everett lately that is both shocking and endearing. Just a word to the wise, if he's playing with a raddle, please DO NOT touch it. You've been warned!

He's eating a little bit more baby food lately and he is kind of, sort of, sometimes liking it. He eats rice cereal, and has tried applesauce, sweet potatoes, peas, green beans and prunes (we were trying to help with his constipation after leaving the hospital). He sucks his thumb in between every single bite and he is an absolute mess after every meal. We're hoping that a little extra food will help him pack on the pounds, especially considering his vocal cord injury and subsequent nursing issues. Although for weight gain to happen he would have to get more mush in his mouth and less mush on his clothes--we'll keep working on it.

The last few days have been really rough for Everett. I wish I knew what was wrong. He spends a good portion of his days, and an even larger portion of his nights crying and moaning. Does his chest hurt? Or maybe it's just itchy and bothering him. Is he cutting teeth? He has two already so I'm sure more are on their way. Does his stomach hurt? Is he feeling warm? Is there an infection that I should be aware of? I wish I could ask him and I wish he could answer. It's probably just normal seven-month-old behavior, but my seven-month-old just had open heart surgery, which makes nothing normal to me. In the meantime, we are working on being patient with each other and doing our best. We spent most of today outside, and it seems like the crisp California air mixed with the madness of lots of kids at play kept him entertained and distracted him from his pain. I think it was a lovely seven month birthday afterall!

Courage

Upon being admitted to the CVICU, we were given a long string with beads spelling Everett's name. The nurses introduced us to the beads of courage program which is designed to honor the challenging journey kids take while receiving care for cardiac conditions. Each time Evie had a procedure done, was poked or scanned, stayed over in the hospital, had an infusion, etc. he was given another bead to add to his string. I don't think we remembered to get every bead we should have (and UCD didn't have this program, so his first surgery is not included on the string), but we did always try to remember to get the beads that he had earned. I think someday he will think this is really cool, and it will definitely make an awesome show-and-tell item. He will be able to show everyone his badge (eh hem, string) of courage!


In Evie's short life he has taught me so much about how to act with courage. Webster describes courage as "the ability to do something that you know is difficult or dangerous," and Everett has done that, always with a smile on his face and a peaceful, happy, calming nature. He has had health issues, he has had surgeries, he has been poked and prodded more than I have in my whole life, and yet he handles it with grace. When I am facing a hardship or trial in my life, I hope I can have the same sweet courage that my son has shown. He is my little hero, that's for sure.

When the doctor first took the long white bandage off of Everett's chest I started to cry. Here was my perfect, innocent, beautiful baby with a long, red scar down his chest. The doctor kept commenting on how beautiful it looked, but I didn't say a word. I just cried. I was shocked by my emotion, and to be honest I was shocked by the scar. But the more I look at it, the more beautiful it becomes to me. That scar is beautiful because it represents a life still being lived. That scar is beautiful because it represents a heart that is still beating...and in fact beating much better than it ever has. That scar is beautiful because it is on my perfect, innocent, beautiful baby boy and is now very much a part of his story. I hope that Everett is always grateful for that long, red scar down his chest. I know I am.

Getting to know each other

Since being home from the hospital we have been doing a whole lot of nothing, and yet it's been an exhausting lot of nothing! Everett and I are becoming reaquainted. We are trying to re-learn how to co-exist, and do even the simplest of things. He's trying to remind me how he likes to nurse, the new ways he likes to be held and the owie spots that he'd rather I not touch. I'm trying to remind him how much he loves kisses and gentle squeezes, trying to show him that I can be gentle and still secure him in my arms and desperately trying to work the tape off of his poor battered skin. Yesterday I think I gave him too many loves, and as a result he was up most of the night in extra pain. Even cuddling with mom all day is hard work when you are used to hanging out in a hospital bed full time. We've given him extra medicine, and I've tried to give him a little more space today (a little, not a lot mind you!)

I've been a little down today. Along with learning a new Evie routine, I'm also trying to process the events of the last couple of weeks. In my life, I have found that Heavenly Father blesses me with an incredible amount of strength to push through difficult experiences. I was given peace and courage during Evie's hospital stay, his surgery, and his recovery. But as was the case in the past, after the experience is over it takes me a while to process it all, mourn for the experience I have had, and move forward. I'm incredibly grateful for everything--the doctors and nurses who performed this difficult surgery with excellence, my friends and family who have supported and loved our family, a Heavenly Father who I KNOW loves my family and has constantly watched over and protected us. And yet I don't find it ungrateful to process what has happened--to try and make sense of it. In my experience, it's in the disecting of our trials that we are able to understand what Heavenly Father wants us to learn, and how we can use that newfound knowledge to bless His other children. It's also in the disecting of our trials that we can see with clear eyes all of the blessings and miracles that were given. So today has been a day of reflection. I am trying to see what He sees in me, what He sees in Ev, and what He sees for our family. And one thing I have seen perfectly--He loves us.

As I mentioned last night was a rough one for little Everett. He was up every hour moaning and crying (although he doesn't have a voice, so his cry is weak and breathy--barely audible). Everett has never been a baby that cries a lot, so when the tears start flowing you know things are not good. James was doing homework downstairs and I decided that Evie and I should watch a movie together to keep our mind off of the pain (it worked like a charm in the hospital). Jim started cracking up when he came upstairs and saw us snuggling in bed together. And of course the movie, mixed with Mommy-snuggling and a Daddy-sighting, brought forth lots of smiles!

And when I started laughing, he wanted to know what was so funny. He arched his little neck and refused to take his eyes off of me for at least 2 minutes! I am NOT complaining at all...how could I? He is the sweetest baby ever. Hopefully tonight will be better in the sleeping department and his little body will continue to heal.

In other news, Talmage will be coming home tomorrow after a fun week at Mema and Pepa's house. He has been spoiled with love, attention and things and I fear he may go through culture shock when I'm in charge again! I am SO grateful that my parents gave T a stress-free, fun-loving week. Everyday he has reported to me about new things he's done, places he's been and yummy treats he's eaten. It's a blessing to have family so close. I love that little rascaly two-year-old (who is getting more 3 everyday). I can't wait to see him. Our house and family are not complete without him.

Elder Uncle Chase

{my brothers--Chase and Jordan}

A big, fat, crazy congrats to Uncle Chase for receiving a mission call to serve in Ogden, Utah. I honestly don't think I could be more proud if I tried. Chase has bloomed this past year (although I don't think he'd think that was a very manly way of saying it) into a strong, valient, and incredible man and just thinking about him and about his mission call makes me want to cry. So proud. So proud. We love you Elder Uncle Chase!

You're not going to believe this!

The dressing came off so the scar can breathe.

A much-needed bath was given and the last line was pulled.

I was taught how to carry him and we took a few walks.

It was determined that Evie's left vocal cord was paralyzed from the surgery and we went downstairs to do a swallow study (an awesome test where they take multiple x-rays while the baby drinks a bottle to determine where the fluid is going). We have a few eating restrictions, but luckily he can still nurse.

And then they sent us home. HOME! Post-op day four and we are at HOME.

It's all a little surreal. I definitely wasn't expecting it. But I'm so excited to be HOME with my boy. Woo-hoo!