I have really gotten into party-planning ... crazy, huh? But I LOVE it. I can get all crazy and detail oriented and then be praised for it too! Hahahaha. Tomorrow I am helping a few friends of mine put on a "Baby Shower Open House", kind of a weird idea I guess, but we wanted to do something a little more low key and cover two bases at once. The pregnant mommies are both on baby #2, but they both have a different sex for baby #1 (does that make sense), anyway ... Debbie is having a boy and Stephanie is having a girl, so this Baby Shower Open House is themed in blue and pink. Because it's an open house, we're not doing games or prizes or favors or anything like that, but we are doing yummy food, books to sign and leave messages for the mommies and gifts for each respective mommy.

While I've been searching for ideas for this Open House, I have been humbled by the following sites:

Hostess with the Mostess Blog



Paper Culture Invitations



A-MAZING Amy Atlas :)



As soon as I'm done taking pictures of everything tomorrow - I'll post the results!!

Liam was mesmerized by the cellists that played a few Christmas carols.

Noah's first Santa siting of the season. As soon as he saw him we thought he would scream out or something, but instead he just took in a swift breath of air as he saw him, stood up on top of his chair and waved. He's absolutely adorable.



We kept asking Noah what he was going to tell Santa he wanted for Christmas, to prep him and practice a little, but he kept telling us, "I can't tell you that. I can only tell Santa. It's a secret!" I was handing out candy canes by Santa as Noah sat on his lap and divulged his "secret" wishes for gifts and I actually leaned in, breathlessly awaiting. Noah said he wanted, "legos, Flo's Diner (it's a Geo Trax "Cars" movie thing) and a cell phone", then he hopped off his lap and walked a few steps, then he remembered something else and ran back and told him something I didn't hear. Awesome little kid.

Yeah for Noah! On his 4th birthday this is what he did: he got his special birthday cereal (picked by Noah himself) which was Apple Jacks. Then he had Preschool and we brought stegasaurus cupcakes.





That night we had a dinner of his choosing: grilled cheese sandwiches (that's all he asked for, but I made homemade tomato soup ... that was delicious!!! I'll have to put up the recipe). And we invited some friends over for cake and ice cream (the "Ordaz boys" and the Jamiesons).

This is kind of sad, but I have more pictures of the culinary desserts than of Noah himself on his big day .... oops.


Naomi and Noah


Noah asked for a "Dinosaur Train" cake (that's a new cartoon on PBS), so I did my best.

With life swirling around us at home in Michigan, it was so nice to relax and have time stand still when we went back to Pennsylvania for Thanksgiving.

I didn't have enough stuff to do each centerpiece the same, so I just did each one differently, but still within the same theme (which was a kind of "under the sea" thing). I made the stuffed octopus and whale.

I can’t keep up. Things are moving too fast. Time is moving too fast. I went to Target last week before traveling to PA for Thanksgiving and I felt like I was standing still watching people bustle around me. There were loud, sparkling advertisements and signs, music blaring, kids running and pointing at toys and grabbing for candy … just stuff, and tons of stuff going on. I felt so out of place. I was taking too long in each aisle and people would push past me, some would comment but I’m not sure what they were saying because I was completely overwhelmed. I felt my face get hot and my eyes begin to sting and tingle, an all too familiar chain of events lately and I sniffed, held it together, walked out to my car and cried the whole way home. There’s just too much. Too much emotion, too many things to think about, too many things to do and I feel like screaming, “Just hold still!”

There are cereal bowls to fill, bottoms to wipe, emails to send, phones to answer, calls to make, food to make, things to buy, questions to answer. I feel like my arms and legs are moving and my head and mind are holding still, paused in thought and blanketed in sadness. And it makes me angry and frustrated. I feel unable to function properly.

Yesterday it took me 2 hours and 2 tries to get Liam down for his nap. When he finally awoke it was 3 pm. I had errands to run, there was no food in my house and I tried to pick up the pace and get everyone in the car. But my brain is working at half speed and in my hurry I found myself in the car without keys. I had locked my keys inside the house. After several calls and 45 minutes in the car in snow jackets, I was able to get a hold of an extra set of keys I gave to some friends.

There are good days and sad days. The good days seem “normal”. I get up and get dressed and feed kids and run errands and make dinner. But sad days hit without warning and I feel beat before I even get out of bed. This morning was one of those mornings.

I had nightmares all night, so did Daniel. Before he left for work he leaned over to give me a kiss and I said I had bad dreams about dying, he said he had bad dreams too, I asked about what, he said, “alligators” ... I’ll never understand him completely, his brain works differently than mine. But this morning I called my parents and mom and dad gave me some helpful advice.

As I described my feelings of frustration, anger and sadness I think my overarching question to them was, “what do I do? I feel like I should be functioning better, more efficiently and I don’t know what to do to keep up”. My mom told me it was okay to be like this for a while and stop worrying about what I “should” be doing. She said it’s like trying to run on a broken leg, you need time to heal and the healing process is different for everyone. But don’t expect to be running right now, just limp along and that’s okay. Both of my parents have lost their dads. Dad said that while he was mourning the loss of his father a while back, somebody gave him some very helpful advice; his friend told him “Don’t waste pain”. He said that pain often makes you slow down and reflect and those are good things to do. This painful experience does not need to be wasted on hurrying out of it. I can do that. I can wait and be patient and let this happen. I can slow down. I can reflect.

Dear Liz,

I am once again using this blog as a pseudo-therapist and writing through this. I don't think you want to read this. I will talk about the crash and things I'm sure you do not want to relive. We love you and can't wait to see you at Thanksgiving.




On Thursday morning, November 5th around 8 am I was still in bed when Daniel came into our bedroom gasping a little for air as he blurted out, "My Dad died". Last night, laying in our bed silently, Daniel stared blankly at the ceiling and said, "My Dad is dead". It seemed like he was trying to convince himself it was true. The cold hardness of it. It felt final, like the moment at end of his Dad's funeral when the bagpipes started playing "Amazing Grace". Strangely, it's over and it doesn't seem like it's supposed to be. It's the feeling when you get the wind knocked out of you. You feel suddenly without air, for no reason and you grasp for something.

I mostly feel tired. Emotionally tired, tired of crying, physically tired from working so hard it put my lower back into spasms, but it felt good to feel something physical that hurt instead of just my heart. I miss Mark, but what is hardest for me is watching pain form on Daniel's face, his eyes redden and watching him weep. Like when we were packing up the car on Sunday morning before we left Pennsylvania and I came out to the car to see Daniel gripping the trunk of our car, with his head hung low and crying openly on the curb in front of the house. It was hardest to lie down next to him at night in the basement of his parents' house and in the dark hear him choke out tears and feel the air mattress shake with his sobs. But what is truly hardest is being able to do nothing.

As we were driving out to Pennsylvania, the 10 hour drive was not long enough to give us time to talk about everything, to think about everything and I foolishly thought I could help somehow once we got there. I didn't know what I could do to ease his mom's pain, but I thought if I just worked hard enough, if I did enough dishes or loads of laundry or if I prepared enough meals or organized enough closets, if I could just work so hard that it hurt, maybe it would ease some pain. I don't know why that was my first response - to just busy myself caring for people by cleaning and cooking ... it was silly really, but all I could think to do. It was simply overwhelming once I got there.

I walked into Liz's bedroom to get something out of her bathroom and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw Mark's shoes set right next to a bag of clothes he had packed for a business trip he would've taken the day after his death. Later, I found a stack of cards and picked it up to put it away. I actually quietly moaned when I realized it was the contents of Marks' wallet that the police had given to the family after they found his body. I felt overwhelmed as I sat in the car with my two boys and watched Daniel, his cousins and Jeanine, Daniel’s aunt and Mark’s sister, walk through the crash site and pick up pieces of Mark’s motorcycle. It was horrible to watch Jeanine touch the bricks of the wall Mark hit and to see Daniel stand there staring with his arms folded. I thought I could be strong and helpful and ease pain, but as I sat on the couch with my arm around his mom who was weeping and reading emails, she said, “it’s just too hard” and I could do nothing but cry. That’s hardest. That’s overwhelming. And I feel tired and useless.

I know this hard part passes eventually. And I don’t even wish this part were over just yet, I want to feel it and process it and go through it, but I also desperately want to DO something and there’s nothing to do but cry, give love, cry some more and watch those who mean most to you fall to pieces in sadness for a while.

I am not worried about Mark anymore. I know where he is and I know he is working hard in the spirit world to bring the truth of the Gospel to others, just as he did here on earth. He simply has a new calling right now. I feel sad for those who have another 30, 40, 50 years without him. Daniel shouldn’t have to live without a Dad.

Maybe I’ll write later about the facts of the actual crash and what we know, but for now, I am going to wipe away tears, put on makeup and shoes and take Noah to Preschool and Liam to his 18 month check up.