Stakerz Xposed

For Jane... and the girls!

2012-01-18T22:46:00.008-07:00

When our bestie from Boston visits during her birthday week, we ladies rally!

The guest of honor requested uniquely "Utah-fare"

and La Jolla Groves never disappoints...

Every dish is de-lish!

(Shannon, Susan, Jane, Becky, Caryn {who apparently did not get the stripes memo!}, Summer with Baby Graham & Me)

Since movie picks were a bit on the scarce side, we opted for pedis instead!

(They sort-of turned out to be "mini-pedis", really,

and only for just half of us...

but the evening was really just about the company, anyways!)

(Me, Caryn, Becky, Shannon, Daphne, Jane, Susan, Summer & Lil' Graham Cracker)

And please forgive me,

(maybe I'm feeling overly-sentimental..?)

but I just can't help saying

as I look at these ladies, I count myself blessed to be amongst them...

I see mothers... daughters... sisters... friends...

balancing so many things and doing so much good in our circles of influence,

no matter the size...

whether relatively small, or literally global in our reach.

I see creative energy that has no bounds.

Boxless.

Ever changing.

Unintimidated and unabashed.

Talent. Tenacity. Ambition.

I see true beauty, both inside and out.

We are loyal and kind.

We love fiercely...

Passionately.

Laugh.

(A lot!)

And listen.

Compassionately.

We have suffered unspeakable, unimaginable loss.

Both individually, and even collectively.

Have struggled and overcome.

Have stumbled. Have risen. And continue to press forward.

And to thrive.

I see strength.

Raw, undeterrable discipline.

With grace. And unassuming poise.

I am amazed at breadth of experience we embody.

Such a spectrum...

Each our own heartaches. Disappointments.

And yet... Inconceivable triumphs.

And through it all, we smile,

Warmly. Genuinely.

With gratitude.

Committed to ensuring that the best is yet to come!

Oh, how grateful I am for each one of you, girlies!

How very grateful indeed!

My friends.

I don't see you all often enough, but oh how dear you are to me!

In the Spotlight...

2011-01-13T23:47:00.001-07:00

Our boys were featured in the Primary Spotlight section

of our ward's January Newsletter.

The write ups are so darling, I just had to share...

Our Primary Secretary is amazing!

(Thanks, Susan!)

Their interviews were a crack-up!

No shortage of personality in our house!

{Hee hee!}

But I do get a kick out of hearing their perspective on things

and I love to hear their budding testimonies...

So... Here's for posterity!

Ten year old Kaden Staker likes "The Hunger Games" series

because "the idea is so cool!"

He also likes the writing with it's twists and turns at every chapter.

Kaden would like to either be a computer animator or a football player.

He loves steak...

Closely followed by spaghetti, orange chicken, quesadillas and french toast.

"I Love to See the Temple" is his favorite Primary song.

The humble and brave missionary Ammon is his hero.

He admires the way Ammon "served King Lamoni

and taught him that Heavenly Father was real."

He also thinks that it is "pretty cool that he cut off all the bad guys arms."

As for a mission, Kaden has narrowed his choices to either New York or Nevada...

New York because "there are lots of non-Mormons there to teach

and lots of cool things to see."

Nevada because "Las Vegas is there... and it needs help!"

____________________________________________

Ribs, Fajitas, steak, chicken nuggets, pizza, spaghetti, tacos & hot dogs

are all Trevan Staker's favorite foods.

As a future Fire Fighter he'll need all that protein to help repair his worn out muscles.

He wants to be a Fire Fighter so he can "save people and drive a big truck with lights...

and go really fast!"

Trevan likes to read "The Lemonade Wars" by Jacqueline Davies.

He also likes to read "I Love You Stinky Face" because it is his family's favorite.

Before he heads off to firefighter training, Trevan would like to serve a mission to New York.

He thinks New york is "awesome and there are so many people he could teach!"

Trevan's first scripture hero is Jesus-- "because he sacrificed His life for all of us."

He also admires Alma "for the way he changed his life after he saw the angel"

and "because he was an awesome missionary after that!"

____________________________________________

"I Love You, Stinky Face" is also Daynen Staker's favorite book.

It's a good day when you get ot read your favorite book

and have "Macky Cheese" and "Chicky Nuggies" for lunch.

When Daynen grows up, he wants to be like his oldest brother, Kaden

and have big muscles like his daddy.

Daynen can't limit his favorite Primary Song to just one.

Currently, he has 3 favorites:

"I am a Child of God", "I Love to See the Temple"

and of course that old Primary hit

"You've Got a Friend in Me."

Daynen says he'd like to serve a mission in Disneyland with his green back pack

and quickly added, "Don't forget my green backpack, Mom!"

One day, Daynen's mom asked him to name his favorite scripture hero.

The conversation went something like this:

Mom: Daynen, who is your favorite scripture hero?

Dayne: Buzz Lipe-year! And Woody!

Mom: No, sweetie... Those are toys. Who is your hero from real life?

Dayne: Ummmm.... Justin Beiber!

Mom (and brothers, all laughing hysterically): No! Your scripture hero, Silly!

Dayne: Ummmmm... Spiderman!

Mom: No! He's not in real life or n the scriptures!

Dayne: Spiderman is too in real life! And he should be in the scriptures!

(Guess we'll keep working on that! Ha!)

____________________________________________

"Kwinko, Kwinko Yiddo Staw" is wee Bronson's favorite Primary song.

Bronson's barely 2, but he already knows he wants to be a dad when he grows up.

He thinks chocolate milk, chips and ice cream are yummy in his tummy.

His favorite books are "I Love You, Stinky Face"

and "Good Boy, Fergus."

He says he likes it "cuz I knows all da words."

Bronson's scripture hero is his friend Jesus.

When asked where he wants to go on his mission,

he replied, "To infiniddy and beyond" Just like Buzz "Lipe"-year!

Way to go, Boys!

We are so proud of you!

Thank you, Mr. Lightyear...

2011-01-11T23:11:00.003-07:00

To say Bronson is obsessed with Buzz Lightyear might be an understatement.

If he didn't have a mother, he would watch Toy Story 1, 2 & 3 on a repetitive loop.

All.

Day.

Long.

But Buzz is special...

Maybe because they've both been to "Infinity and Beyond",

I dunno.

He was, hands-down, B's favorite birthday gift.

He's his bedtime buddy. His playtime pal.

And no one.

I repeat

NO one

messes

with

Buzz.

Well, in all the loving,

Buzz's back panel has popped off.

It is somewhere in the Play Loft and is yet to be found and replaced.

Which leaves him with a bum wing that occasionally swivels loose and ends up dangling.

Well...

This is unacceptable.

In. Every. Way.

Bronson becomes hysterical.

Nearly unconsolable.

He cries so hard sometimes he has actually passed out.

Literally.

Needless to say, we try to fix Buzz quickly.

Well, this morning on my morning rounds,

Buzz was having... issues.

And our poor Little B was not a happy guy.

He did not sleep well last night, so he was a bit... unreasonable.

Quite so, actually.

But I handled it well, if I do say so myself.

Patiently, I took Buzz and quickly fixed the wing.

Easily popping it back into place.

Each time quietly showing Bronson how to do it himself.

Quietly reminding him to play a bit more gently.

To be a bit more careful.

And each time I hugged and kissed and rocked that sad, sad little boy back to happy.

Reminding him to breathe.

Stroking his head and cheek,

and eventually patting him gently on the bottom and sending him back off to play.

This went on for an hour.

I fixed Buzz a couple dozen times.

But each time Bronson broke him,

he was equally as hysterical.

Equally as quick to run him straight over, right to me.

And equally anxious for me to fix him.

I seriously began to consider just replacing him!

If Bronson hadn't eventually worn himself out in this process,

I might have actually given in...

The wiser "big-picture" side of me

had to talk the "helicopter-mom" side of me

out of running straight to Toys-R-Us for a new Buzz.

Several times.

At that point, it seemed a reasonable, if not necessary solution.

But Bronson finally curled up on his beloved Puppy Pillow and drifted off to sleep,

broken Buzz and all.

{Sigh}

And then the lesson sunk in.

How many times have I done this?

Made the same choice, over and over expecting a different result?

Hoping I could haphazardly use the same carelessness

and not experience the same heartache?

And how many times have I run, broken wing dangling,

right to my Father in Heaven,

begging...

desperate for Him to fix it...

yet again?

Wondering if He could?

If He would?

And yet always His constant, loving reply.

Reassurance.

Consolation.

Unconditional patience.

Understanding.

Peace for my troubling soul.

He straightens the wing...

Then straightens the girl...

Then sends me back out on my way.

Oh, Buzz...

Dear sweet, Buzz...

Thanks for the lesson today.

What more do you have to teach me?

Sparkling afternoon...

2011-01-10T13:00:00.001-07:00

A very fine mist of snow has been gently falling since the wee hours this morning

and has continued silently into this afternoon.

It's so fine that you'd hardly even notice it

if it weren't for your windshield needing an occasional swipe.

It helped when the sun started to peek through a few hours ago,

because now it sparkles as it cascades down from Heaven.

And everything previously gray and dingy

has suddenly been covered with a fresh, sparkly clean coat.

You gotta hand this one to Mother Nature...

The effect is quite stunning, I must say.

(The pictures don't do it justice at all.)

Well, a little bit ago,

as we backed out of the garage on our way out for a couple errands,

Dayne looked out the window and gasped, "Oh, my!"

I chuckled because it sounded so funny and so old-fashioned...

not one of his normal expressions...

"What?", I asked.

"The sky is glittering!", he said.

"Ha!", I laughed out loud.

It really did look exactly like glitter!

I looked back at him,

awestruck,

watching intently out the window as we pulled down the street

and smiled to myself,

so thankful for this little boy...

his enthusiasm,

his happy, pleasant, optismistic nature

and his utter and absolute zest for life and all things in it.

Just then he whispered,

"And it is so bea-U-tee-full, Mom!"

Yes, Daynen... It is beautiful.

LIFE is beautiful!

And I am so blessed to see it through your eyes!

Only for Jane...

2011-01-09T00:31:00.002-07:00

Only for our dear and beloved friend, Jane...

could I talk my husband into basically abandoning our beloved boys for over half a day...

ignoring the freshly powder-laden mountain, softly beckoning...

braving the snowy roads...

and driving "all the way" up to Salt Lake for a Movie Marathon,

not to mention "strange" exotic food and entertainment.

Trust me...

My man had to be well-bribed!

(Sitting through TWO movies in a day

and the uncertainty of dinner at a new, somewhat questionable-sounding restaurant

is NOT his forte!

He'd much rather have chosen an afternoon of skiing!)

But alas, he let me win this one...

And off we went.

While everyone else in our group saw "The Tourist",

(which we saw and I LOVED a few weeks ago)

we opted to meet Danny and Angi for "Country Strong"

which I thought was great, and Matt thought was... well, grueling.

In my defense I make 4 points.

First, I do love Gwyneth.

I just do.

Second, she made me want to be a Kelly Canter fan.

Really.

She was darling.

How could you not love her rockin' those leather jeans in this scene

with that eat-him-up cute little Travis?

Third, I found myself, against my better judgement, really wanting

her to pull her mess-of-a-life together and get well...

(Which must mean she did a very believable job of being a mess in the first place, right?)

And lastly...

I am almost ashamed to admit how much I LOVED that gold dress from the Dallas Concert...

Wow.

A-MAZ-ing...

I could totally wear it at the kitchen sink doing dishes, right?

Or while I fold laundry?

{Sigh}

I guess it is best that my life holds no event worthy of me ever wearing such a gown.

Temptation gone.

But on to dinner...

To try something different, Dusty chose Cedars of Lebanon,

which turned out to be a cozy little place with great ambiance,

fun, not-your-ordinary-everyday entertainment

and

INCREDIBLE food!

Here are half of us...

Our party of 13 included the Blanchards, Us, Rhodes, Taylors, Birchalls,

Danny & Angi and Becky.

Who knew we'd be fans of Lebanese?

But yum!

It makes my mouth water and my tummy rumble just remembering it!

We will definitely make a return visit!

We also learned some very valuable life lessons...

Like...

Always wait to tip the belly-dancer until the music tempo slows...

And never accept an invitation to share a hookah

with the aging gentleman at the next table over.

(Seriously, Angi... what were you thinking?)

And lastly, that 35 can look amazing if you welcome it and accept it with grace.

So Happy Birthday, again, Janey!

We loved sharing it with you!

(And please forgive me for swiping these pics off your blog...)

Our evening concluded with full bellies,

grateful that only the birthday girl had to participate in the belly-dancing spectacle,

a darling birthday cake

(Way to go, Dusty!)

and then off to another movie.

The late show was this little number...

which I still can not ever remember the name of

and was surprised not to love.

I thought it was just... ok...

But interestingly enough, Matty actually liked it better than the first!

Ha!

I guess we're keeping things even, at least!

So chalk up another super fun evening, friends.

Great company!

My belly still hurts from laughing so hard!

Friday afternoon was simply smashing...

2011-01-08T00:00:00.000-07:00

I had a fun afternoon out with some of my favorite ladies...

It was Janey's Birthday Lunch.

She is a gorgeous, graceful 35...

And she does it oh so well, already!

She's just smashing! Simply smashing!

Which is fitting since she chose SmashBurger...

(Yes, the pun is shamefully intended...)

I'd never been...

But my Harvest Chicken Salad was de-lish!

And the company was even better!

Here are a few of us,

(Left to Right: Jane, Daph, McKenna, Suz, Shan, Caryn, Me, Summer, Becky)

courtesy of Jane's i-phone and her super-fun, oh-so-retro Shake-It Polaroid Ap,

(...which if you ask me, makes Jane and Summer look like oompa-loompas and me look like Raggedy Ann!

Hee hee!

Ah, well...

That's what I get for not packing my own camera, eh?)

How $17.99 may just save our sanity...

2011-01-04T19:45:00.005-07:00

So they say, "Drastic times call for drastic measures."

Well, this drastic measure may have just saved our sanity...

Certainly, a good night's sleep...

(And quite possibly also our marriage!)

So I did it today!

Took our drastic measure...

I've been thinking about it for a week, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it.

But today I finally broke down and bought it.

A nice, plush 42"round... Puppy Pillow.

Why, you ask?

Are we getting a puppy for our puppy-crazed boys?

Oh, no!

(We're not THAT desperate!

They are still just begging for now...)

Oh, no.

You see...

The puppy bed is for my son.

My baby.

The boy we all love...

It is for Bronson.

My sweet 2 year old who has decided he is done taking naps.

The very same child who I am convinced sleeps less than any other toddler on the planet.

Now, to be clear, this Puppy Bed is not meant as any sort of statement, for heaven's sake.

It actually represents a very diplomatic compromise.

One that has been months in the making.

Bronson, you see, has been battling with us for quite some time

over what he apparently feels are unacceptable sleeping accommodations.

Namely his C-R-I-B...

Yes, that's right.

It is definitely a four letter word.

And we have outlawed it in our home

to prevent the inevitable melt downs that even its' mere mention induces...

And so, as the kind, loving, accommodating parents that we are,

we naturally offered him the alternative of double-bunking

in his brother Daynen's full-size bed.

This worked for several nights

and these two little peas in a pod were as snug as bugs in a rug...

Until Bronson rolled off in the middle of the night.

He wasn't hurt, thank goodness...

In fact he landed on pillows

that had been carefully placed on the floor

in case of just such an occurrence.

But it bruised his pride

and his confidence just enough

that another alternate site had to be located.

This time to big brother Kaden's side he went.

...Until he wore out his welcome.

And so the real battle began.

A turf war.

Waged on a king-sized mattress between two sheets, beneath our comforter.

It's not a new battle.

It's as ageless as the family itself.

Mommy and Daddy separated by the toddler,

who insists on sleeping horizontally in the middle.

If you have kids, you know...

No matter how many times you try to turn the little tike upright,

he always makes an "H" of us by morning.

And while Matt gets the warm, steamy breathing, half an inch from his face,

I always get the feet.

And usually to my head.

Or face.

Or both.

All.

Night.

Long.

Now, let me stop here to say how very grateful I am for this arrangement.

It is certainly preferable to many, many other alternatives.

And believe me...

I am NOT complaining...

It's just that, well... it is a bit... tiring...

after many, many,

many...

months.

Let me also invite anyone out there who thinks they have a better idea,

or one that we haven't already tried...

consistently for several weeks...

to come right on over and sleep-train our toddler...

I assure you.

We are very aware that it has become a battle of will.

That we, quite obviously are losing.

I also assure you,

it is decisive, selective and adamantly expressed.

And there IS no other acceptable alternative location.

Trust us.

A couple of times we have joked that we should just change bedrooms.

Or go sleep in our spare bedroom after he falls asleep.

Ha!

But no.

Instead, we have decided to embrace the opportunity.

Knowing it will eventually run it's course.

And that someday we will miss those wiggly little feet.

And that atrocious morning breath.

And the little boy they belong to.

And so we have conceded...

To something we would never have allowed from his brothers.

And been a crowded party of 3 for quite some time.

Recently, we have taken to making a little bed of pillows on the floor at the foot of our bed.

We even brought in a Bean-Bag from our Theatre...

But then he'd end up all sticky and sweaty (it's "pleather")

and all slumped over...

It didn't look comfy, at all.

But it did give me the idea.

"A giant pillow", I thought.

That could be stored under the end of our bed.

Out of sight, beneath the bedskirt, by day.

And loved, by all, at night.

Just an extension of our bed, really.

An annex.

But safely at floor's level.

And with room enough to spare for all of us...

I smile, yawn and stretch just thinking about it!

Surely, I am not the first to think of this,

but still, I felt proud of this brilliant solution.

And further more, I would make one, the crafty side of me decided.

But alas, the busy-mom-at-Christmas side of me has not quite gotten to it yet.

And then...

Then, I saw the Puppy Pillows at Costco.

For the very low price 0f $17.99.

I could not buy the fabric, let alone the stuffing for that!

But it was a DOG BED!

And this was my SON!

I just could not quite wrap my mind around that...

Until,

Today.

And it has been pure Puppy-Pillow LOVE all afternoon!

In fact, I only narrowly escaped Costco , without a matching set!

(Dayne wanted one for himself and I nearly had to buy two!)

It might also be the new favorite movie spot!

And aaaah!

I can feel a good night's rest coming on, already!

"Humble Abundance"...

2011-01-01T01:11:00.002-07:00

I am not making resolutions this year...

Not because I know I'll fail,

but because I want to succeed without their limitations.

Instead, I am adopting a theme for the year...

A guideline.

One adopted from the words of a new friend, spoken a few months ago.

She paid an unexpected compliment.

One that I hope to someday deserve.

She said, "When I come into your home I feel immediately "at home".

I feel embraced by the humble abundance you have created within it."

I'm not going to lie...

I was flattered.

And yet felt somewhat, if not completely, undeserving.

But her words have stuck with me.

I've thought so much about that phrase...

"Humble abundance."

And that is what I hope to acquire this year.

A feeling of cherishing and embracing that which is most dear...

And loving it like crazy.

Over the top.

All the way.

I am not going to pretend to try to simplify.

I'm no good at that.

I'm just not a simple girl, I guess.

I'm all or nothing.

I have big ideas.

And an excess of energy.

And unfortunately, I am tenacious (maybe even stubborn?) enough

to actually see them through.

I've come to realize I'll probably always be an overachiever.

Certainly a pleaser.

Always a giver.

It's my love language.

But I aspire to chose wisely where to spend myself...

Not to be stingy,

but to be thoughtful.

And balanced.

And to embrace and share the abundance all around me.

In every realm.

So cheers!

It's a New Year!

May your 2011 be as wonderful as the one we hope to create...

And may a "Humble Abundance" be yours.

"Hoo-hoo" has an opinion?

2010-12-30T21:59:00.000-07:00

I LOVE that my boys are strong willed.

I LOVE that they are driven, assertive and know what they want.

I LOVE that they stand up for what they believe in, without backing down, I really do.

I even LOVE their over-stated, sometimes quite surprisingly, very strong opinions...

Especially the ones that make me chuckle...

Well, we've been meaning to see this movie for a while and just hadn't made it yet.

You know, other priorities first.

But somehow it finally snuck up to the top of our list.

So we took the boys out to the Buck-Flick...

We thought they would all LOVE it...

Ha!

Well, the big boys sat glued, as expected...

And Bronson, wild monkey,

took advantage of the nearly empty theatre

and ran up...

and down...

and back...

and forth...

and through...

the aisles...

just his little blonde head silently bobbing up and down,

glowing above the seat tops in front of us.

{Sigh}

Honestly...

Who ARE his parents to allow that sort of behavior?

So anyway, he and I missed half of it...

But it was our D who was the surprise!

...He is such a movie buff!

He'll watch anything!

And he has LOVED every other 3D movie that he's seen,

which is why this came as such a shock!

Halfway through,

upon my return from yet another run to the Lobby

with my crazy little maniac,

I found D slumped and scowling in his booster,

glaring at the big screen over the tops of his 3D glasses.

"D, what's wrong?", I whispered.

He gruffly and not-so-quietly whispered back,

"I want to go home!"

"What?", I asked, genuinely surprised.

"I hate this movie!", again, not-so-quiet.

"Why? What's the matter?", trying to soothe him.

Then this, increasingly louder and with pure and unmistakable spite,

"I HATE owls!"

Snickers from the handful of other theatre-goers within a few rows' vicinity*...

Well, there you have it...

Hooooo knew?

*My apologies to anyone who was there, trying to quietly enjoy their night out...

But hey!

Glad we could help entertain you for the evening!

Merry Christmas to All...

2010-12-25T02:02:00.000-07:00

And to all...

A good night!

(In case yours hasn't arrived yet, here's a peek at our Christmas Card...)

We love you all and are so grateful for your love,

prayers, friendship and support, this year and always!

Here's hoping this finds you happy, healthy

and enjoying the best of this glorious season!

Much Love~

The Staker Family

(...All 6 of us!)

HERE is a good place to be...

2010-12-22T08:35:00.002-07:00

I know it has been forever since I've posted...

A Tower of Cups and a Wheat Field...

2010-05-08T23:24:00.002-06:00

So we blend a lot of smoothies here at our house...
Several per day, usually.
We put them in clear plastic cups so they are easy to take when we are on the go.
Which is often.
But in an effort to be conservative

(and since they melt in the dishwasher),
we wash and rinse the cups out,
then place them in the windowsill to dry
so that we can reuse them.
There are usually one... or two... in the corner of our windowsill.
But since we've had houseguests this week, we've made quite a few extra smoothies.
Even more than normal.
So we've had this little pyramid going...
.
.
Well, this morning, after breakfast,
I lifted Daynen up to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.
He looked at them and said, "Cool! Are doze Jesus cups?"
I wasn't sure I understood what he meant...
My mind was puzzling over whether he meant,

Mmm... like really big sacrament cups, er what?
So I said, "What kind of cups?"
He repeated, "Jesus cups! Let's do the trick!"
Still confused, I said, "What trick? Show me."
He reached for the center cup on the bottom row and pulled it out,
explaining, "Like when Jesus dies and dey awe come tumb-wing down
and da choo-wuch cah-w-ashes."
(Toddlerese to English Translation: ... and they all come tumbling down and the church crashes.")
.
OH!

Ha!
Right!
I couldn't help but smile as I caught on and realized what he was saying.
I guess he really WAS listening at Family Home Evening last week
when we had our lesson about The Great Apostasy...
We labeled some of those same plastic cups and then stacked them,
creating a tower to represent the Church as it was when Jesus Christ was here upon the earth.
Then we pulled out the bottom cup (representing Christ as the foundation of the Church)
and talked about how it all fell apart after his death and the martyrdom of the apostles.
We showed the boys how many of the same principles and ordinances of the gospel remained,
but explained that some were lost, distorted, misinterpreted or even forgotten.

We told them how these scattered pieces were used to build other doctrines

throughout the ages, but remained incomplete until The Restoration.
The big boys seemed to understand the object lesson,
but of course the little ones were way more interested in just building and crashing towers.
The rest went right past them.

Or so I thought...
So imagine my surprise when my sweet, barely-3 year old replays the message to me.
All on his own!
Almost a whole week later!
It was one of those far-too-few-and-far-between "Parent Pay-offs".

You know...
When you realize something you thought went right over their heads,
actually stuck.
Even just a little!
...Guess we'll keep at it!
.
It also reminded me of a particularly touching talk from last fall's General Conference...
Reaffirmed to me the total and absolute truth of it.
Like many other moms, I sometimes struggle with feeling like I just try SOOO hard...
And for what?
The job often feels overwhelming and fruitless.
Trying to get everyone to cooperate and do the right thing
seems like a lot of hard work
and often even ends up feeling counter-productive.

Sometimes I feel like I. Just. CAN'T. Do. It.

.
So Elder Bednar's talk pierced me to the core
and warmed my very soul with a rekindled commitment for consistency.
Despite the sometimes discouraging individual instances.

.
I remember sitting in my car in the Costco parking lot.

Too paralyzed to get out and go inside

as I listened to his words stream in over the radio.

I could not move.
Feeling so filled that my emotions were spilling over.
Streaming silently down my cheeks.
I heard... really HEARD... his words.
Spoken as if straight to me.
It felt as if the teardrops spotting the bosom of my t-shirt
were imbedding them indellibly upon my heart.
.
So as a reminder to myself,
and to share with anyone reading, who may also benefit,
here is the part that I just loved:
"As our sons were growing up, our family did what you have done and what you now do.
We had regular family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening.
Now, I am sure what I am about to describe has never occurred in your home, but it did in ours.
.
Sometimes Sister Bednar and I wondered
if our efforts to do these spiritually essential things were worthwhile.
Now and then verses of scripture were read amid outbursts
such as “He’s touching me!”
“Make him stop looking at me!”
“Mom, he’s breathing my air!”
Sincere prayers occasionally were interrupted with giggling and poking.
And with active, rambunctious boys,
family home evening lessons did not always produce high levels of edification.

{Uh... ya think? This sounds oddly familiar...}

.
At times Sister Bednar and I were exasperated
because the righteous habits we worked so hard to foster
did not seem to yield immediately the spiritual results we wanted and expected.
.
Today if you could ask our adult sons what they remember
about family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening,
I believe I know how they would answer.
They likely would not identify a particular prayer
or a specific instance of scripture study
or an especially meaningful family home evening lesson
as the defining moment in their spiritual development.
What they would say they remember is that as a family we were consistent.
.
Sister Bednar and I thought helping our sons understand the content
of a particular lesson or a specific scripture was the ultimate outcome.
But such a result does not occur each time we study or pray or learn together.
The consistency of our intent and work was perhaps the greatest lesson—
a lesson we did not fully appreciate at the time.
.
In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field.
The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—
none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive.
In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass
of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint.
However, as you gradually move away from the canvas,
all of the individual brushstrokes combine together
and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field.
Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together
to create a captivating and beautiful painting.
.

.
Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study,
and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls.
No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable.
But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other
and produce an impressive masterpiece,
so our consistency in doing seemingly small things
can lead to significant spiritual results.
“Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing,
for ye are laying the foundation of a great work.
And out of small things proceedeth that which is great”
.
Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes."
.
That message and that image of the wheat field has stayed with me.
So, here, in this simple stack of plastic cups drying in my kitchen windowsill,
I realized...
Again.
I am painting.
Still painting.
Ever painting.
One. Stroke. At. A. Time.
Painting the portrait of my own ever-growing, testimony
and imprinting it upon the hearts of my children.

Helping them to paint their own.

As artists of their own souls.
One prayer.
One scripture study.
One Family Home Evening.
One heart-to-heart chat.
One teaching moment.
One plastic cup tower. At. A. Time...

And THAT...

Well, THAT, I CAN do.

For today.

Alright, already...

2010-05-07T22:45:00.001-06:00

Okay... This is it.

Tonight I feel really yucky.

Tired.

Grumpy.

Out of gas.

And sorta...

Blah.

No...

Strike that...

REALLY blah.

Blah... blah... BLAH!

I HATE this feeling!

Absolutely HATE it!

And even worse, I know why.

I know EXACTLY why...

You see, I usually eat really well.

By most people's standard, I eat VERY well.

I love fruits and veggies.

I eat them at nearly every meal.

I get a good balanced amount of protein and healthy, whole grain carbohydrates.
And I try to eat every 2-3 hours throughout the day.

(Yes... That's 5-6 times per day.)

I LOVE good food...

And I eat a lot!

I also drink like a fish.

I start drinking water first thing in the morning at 5:15.

All day long, I drink and drink.

And I'm not talking soda... I despise it.

Water only.

By bedtime, I've usually consumed over 100 ounces.

Sometimes more.

And I usually have plenty of energy.

Moreso than I sometimes know what to do with!

You know me!

Me and all my big ideas...

{If only I could buy more time at the health food store!}

But this past week, I have been very "off."

No particular reason...

I've just been a bit lazy, I guess.

Slipping up in my usually good habits.

If we are what we eat, then right now, I am the city dump!

With Matt gone, I immersed myself in a project and barely slept.

We had visitors staying with us

and I was not diligent with my planned meals and regular mealtimes.

I've hardly drunk any water.

I am thirsty.

My head aches.

Even my lips and skin feel dry.

I know I am dehydrated.

So this is MY fault!

I know better!

I know what my body needs.

I'm just not giving it!

SO...

As of this moment, I am recommitting to take better care of myself.

Because I can.

Because I should.

Because I am worth it.

...And they are worth it!

{Because I know that even when they don't complain,

my boys like me even more when I am feeling good.

And fun.

And like myself.

Instead of like this... yucky... blob.}

So no more being lazy and eating crappy for me!

For crying out loud...

I AM NOT A GARBAGE DISPOSAL!

I do NOT need to finish my children's meals for them!

I can not.

I will not.

It is an awful habit!

...One of my worst.

Just because they decide they are "done" eating while there is still food on their plates

(food I worked hard to prepare for them, mind you ),

does NOT mean I have to consume it to prevent it from going to waste!

I do not have to dispose of it!

At least not into my own mouth!

That's why we have a garbage can.

And a disposal in our sink!

I hereby remind myself that I am a big girl.

I have outgrown "kiddie food".

I can not thrive off of the leftover Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich crusts.

Or the last few bites of their Pigs in a Blanket.

I DO deserve to take the time to prepare my OWN real food...

Even if THEY want Mac & Cheese, Little Caesar's or McDonald's

(on the rare occasion that I actually cave in and indulge them).

They are boys.

Little boys.

Growing boys!

With the metabolism of a raging bonfire!

I, on the other hand,

am aging...

I can not eat anything and everything, like I once could, and still feel fine.

And I do not have the self-discipline to deprive myself.

Or the cardio-endurance of a Madman, like my sweet-tooth husband.

{I love you, Sweets...}

So instead, I must choose well.

I must choose better.

It's sort of like the oxygen mask thing...

As counter-intuitive as it seems, it is how we ensure that we all survive.

And how we all thrive...

In order to take care of others well, we must first take care of ourselves, as well.

So for now, that means cracking the proverbial whip a bit, on my eating habits...

I start in the morning!

{I can hardly wait!}

In-laws, er.. uh...OUT-laws...

2010-05-02T19:13:00.005-06:00

Yep... Apparently it started young...

Someone really should have warned me what kind of family I was marrying into!

Hee hee! Just kidding!

(If anyone lucked out in the in-law department, it was certainly me!)

This is so cute, I just had to post it...

if not for your viewing enjoyment, then for their utter humiliation!

(It's an oldie, but a goodie that I just came across in Trevor's facebook pics.)

HA!

Don't think I've ever seen it, so it's giving me a good chuckle this evening...

These are the Lowry cousins, somewhere around the mid-80's, I'd guess.
Back row (Left to Right): Mike Staker (Matt's older and oh-so-much-wiser brother),

Megan Staker McMurdie (Matt's little sister) & Matt "Capone" Staker

Front Row: Ty Simcox (Matt's cousin), Trevor Simcox (also cousin),

Mindy Staker Johanson (Matt's littlest sister), & Rachelle Simcox Taysom (Matt's cousin)

Love you guys!

Glad you all gave up your "life of crime",

turned over a new leaf

and became productive, law-abiding citizens!

Wait... You did...Right?

Officer Simcox?

Footprints of Faith...

2010-04-03T23:21:00.006-06:00

For those of you who have asked for information,

"Footprints of Faith"

will air at 1:30 pm MST,

just prior to the second session of LDS General Conference.

There will be 3 stories featured in the program.

We were told that Bronson's story will be the middle segment.

Post Script-

In reply to some of the questions and comments left in response to this post,

I am not aware of a link to view the "Footprints of Faith" program online.

However, KSL has announced that it will re-air on Sunday, May 2.

I am not sure what time.

40 Years... and still counting!

2010-04-02T05:14:00.002-06:00

Happy Anniversary to two of the dearest people in my world!

Congratulations, Mom & Dad!

I am so proud of you!

In this day and age, it's an accomplishment only a few can claim.

And getting fewer and farther between all the time.

Thank you for loving each other.

Through the good and the bad...

The challenges as well as the joys.

And often across so many miles.

It could not always have been easy.

I could not have asked for better, more adoring parents...

Who waited and wanted for so very long before I finally came your way.

Thank you for being ready.

To love me unconditionally.

And to teach me.

By both your words and your example.

What a blessing you are to me!

I am so grateful I was sent to you.

Thanks for loving each other. For loving me. And for making us a family.

I am forever your devoted daughter!

B Strong... Be Fit... Be One... Be there!

2010-03-26T13:36:00.000-06:00

I am posting this again as a friendly reminder...

Our wonderful, a-MAZ-ing and completely over-achieving sister, Mindy,
has put this great event together in our behalf.
{Sigh}
The blessings just seem to have no end.
We are absolutely thankful.
(Thanks, Mind!)
.
We are also grateful
that this will provide us with a much-needed opportunity
to thank so many of you for your love and support,
and allow us to throw you a bit of a Thank-You Party!
.

.
So whether you run, or not... please
Come celebrate the gift of life with us
in honor of Bronson's second chance!

.
There will be a 5K and a Children's 1 Mile Fun Run.
Starting at 9 am
Food, Games, Prizes, Raffles, Bounce Houses!

.
Register online @:
https://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1839825
.

We look forward to seeing you there!

Interview on NBC's Today show...

2010-03-12T14:59:00.002-07:00

For those who asked for the link to Bronson's story,

Click here...

Today is tomorrow...

2010-03-11T06:52:00.002-07:00

Crazy...

Several weeks ago, just after we returned from the hospital,

we were contacted by NBC's morning show, Today.

They had been following Bronson's story and asked if they could interview us live on their show.

Of course, we declined.

We needed to be home with our boys, who had been well cared for by Alli

and spoiled by family and friends in our absence,

but WE worried about them, after all they had been through.

And knew we needed to reconnect and spend time as a family.

So NBC clarified that the offer was for all of us... the whole gang. Even Alli.

We were shocked...

They explained all the reasons that Bronson's strory appealed to them.

It was well-documented through my blog.

It had been well-photographed and we had taken video as it unfolded.

And most of all, it was miraculous.

And GOOD news to tell.

We were slightly more intrigued...

But they wanted us right away.

We said sorry, but we needed some down time.

They offered to wait until after the Olympics.

We considered...

But with everything going on, I wasn't sure that it wasn't just another distration from our focus.

Our family.

We declined again.

SO they sent us a piece they aired several years ago.

Another miracle.

About a boy from Texas who had been killed in and ATV accident.

His death announced in the local paper.

The family had bid their final farewells

and prepared to honor his wishes as an organ donor.

Helicopters were waiting on the roof.

Recipients standing by.

And yet his Grandma prayed on for a miracle.

Long story short, they interviewed him on NBC a few months later.

Amazing.

We were touched as we watched his parents.

Incredible and faithful people, telling the story of their miracle.

We were reminded of a scripture that has become particularly meaningful to us lately.

Mosiah 8:18-

We know that Bronson's miracle was not just given to him.

Not even just to us.

We believe it was given for the benefit of mankind.

To show forth the all-powerful hand of God.

To remind us that our loving Father in Heaven has a plan for us and for our families.

That He hears and answers our prayers.

That He intervenes with the course of nature, when necessary, to accomplish His will.

That we were blessed enough to witness one of these occurances.

First hand.

We could not be more grateful.

We are humbled to the core and still in shock of His grace and His mercy.

That this happened for us, and not for so many others with similar stories.

So many who prayed just as faithfully...

So many who were also hopeful for their own miracle.

Maybe even more worthy.

So many who accepted the will of God,

even when it was not what they would have chosen.

And yet, somehow, for some reason,

we recieved more than we could have possibly dreamed.

We recieved Bronson.

Here. Now. Complete. Whole. Himself. Seemingly unaffected.

And with that comes a responsibility.

One that feels too big, and yet we eagerly embrace.

Knowing we have room to grow.

We promise to do our best to give back.

To raise awareness.

To help others to learn vicariously through my mistake.

Help them to reevaluate and to prioritize.

And most importantly, we commit to bear testimony and stand as witnesses of God.

At all times, and in all things and in all places.

Even moreso than ever before.

Even if that means being on camera in front of a national audience.

Matt is excited for the missionary opportunity.

I just hope I don't trip...

Or ramble. Oh, how I hope I don't ramble...

And please pray that little B behaves himself!

He is such a wild man!

I just have one word about this...

Live.

Natonal TV will get him in whatever mood he is in!

Let's hope he sleeps well tonight!

Here are a few shots from the in home interview they shot a few days ago.

A few minutes of it will air on NBC's morning show, Today, tomorrow morning, March 12.

Aye aye aye...

How on earth did we get here?

New York City... NBC... Here we are...

Be gentle with us.

NYC or bust...

2010-03-10T06:45:00.001-07:00

Off we go!
. .
Alli and the boys, curbside,with our stash of bags, etc.
Not bad... for a traveling party of 7!

A few of my favorite things...

2010-03-03T22:57:00.001-07:00

Just came across this little diddy,

which {insert huge sigh of relief} still makes me smile...

Quite possibly my favorite picture that I've ever taken!

Sometimes,

when I least expect it...

amid all the underwear wrestling...

the bumps and dents in our walls...

the disturbingly unexplainable "mystery" bruises...

the constant coat of caked mud on their shoes...

the stained sleeves they borrow and use as napkins...

the wall murals painted in sharpie and/or white-out correction tape (Umm... yeah)...

the glitter glue I'll never get out from between the floor boards in the Craft Room...

the incessant arsenal of whirling plastic weaponry...

the indian burns and purple nurples...

the super-hero dress ups...

the little growling dinosaurs...

the blanket forts and bubble baths...

the entire cast of miniature 'CARS' cars which magically drive themselves all around our house...

the Legos... {insert exasperated sigh}... oh, all those darn LEGOS...

the skateboards and scooters and bikes and rollerblades and ripsticks...

the crayons, paintbrushes, colored pencils and markers...

the dog-eared UNO cards...

and otterpops...

Amid Diego and Sponge Bob...

Zack & Cody, Drake & Josh...

Mario Kart and Lego Star Wars on the Wii...

Piano lessons and Pine Wood Derbys...

the grubby smears and fingerprints...

Basketball Courts...

Soccer Fields...

Football Turf...

Batting Cages and Baseball Diamonds...

Bouldering Gear and rock climbing harnesses...

various scattered ski paraphernalia...

the beloved Webkinz and super-powered Sock Monkeys...

the mountainous piles of homework...

the pirate eye-patches and the nerf dart guns...

the CTR rings and zip-up neckties...

the holes in... well... what DOESN'T have them these days?

Yes, amid merciless pillow fights until someone cries... (and that would usually be Trevan)...

the never-ending grass-stained jeans...

Amid "I Love you Stinky Face" and "Where the Wild Things Are"...

the bubblegum tape and the pixie sticks...

and pants that are too short... too quickly...

Somewhere...

Sometimes...

Every once in a while...

I get a glimpse of the amazing, incredible men these boys are growing to be.

And I find myself in the presence of greatness.

Hoot-whoo...

2010-03-02T09:16:00.000-07:00

I absolutely adore this little sketch I found on our Mud Room Counter...

"Wow! Who drew this?", I asked my boys.

Trevan timidly but teasingly replied, "Don't you mean 'Hoot-whoo' drew it, Mom?"

{Hee hee!}

Handsome, artistic and clever ...

I like that in a guy!

(Watch out First Grade ladies! This guy is a triple threat!)

2010-03-01T22:25:00.004-07:00

Oh, my dear friends~

I just got this e-mail and it caught my breath...

"Dear Sara...

Please help me by getting the word out about my sweet niece.

She was found not breathing and without a heartbeat this afternoon

and is fighting for her life at Primary Children's right now.

The outlook is grim but I know how your story ended

and I am looking for that same miracle...

so please add us to your prayer list for tonight!

Thank you...
Amy"

------------
.

I do not know Auntie Amy.

I do not know little Sage.

But I DO know something of the heartache her poor parents must be facing.

The anguish of not knowing.

The fear of possibilities you can not yet allow yourself to consider.

The helplessness. Heaviness. Dread.

The audacity of daring to hope and to pray for a miracle...

Please, oh please pray for sweet little Sage.

And pray for her family to be strengthened and sustained.

The details are still a bit unclear,

but you can read about it here, on her Auntie Amy's blog.

Leftovers...

2010-02-28T23:37:00.001-07:00

I realized something when I opened my fridge this afternoon.

This is going to sound strange, so just hang tight and go with me for a sec...

First off, let's make something clear...

I am not much of a cook.

Although substantially improved by earnest effort in recent years,

I am still definitely not much to write home about.

When I do bother, I typically make things that require little or no technical effort.

We eat a lot of fresh stuff that requires no actual cooking.

Salads, veggie trays, fruit plates, etc.

And I usually, purposely, make huge amounts so that we can share

or even just eat it for several days in a row ourselves.

(Lazy... I know.)

So today's revelation came as a bit of a surprise.

As I rummaged the shelves for something to throw together, it hit me...

Profoundly.

As it turns out,

I do not like Leftovers.

In fact, I think I might even hate them.

Aside from being a pain to store,

nothing ever tastes quite as good as when it is freshly prepared.

It's always a little too soggy.

A little wilted or a tad brown around the edges.

A bit crusty on top.

Or just a little thicker than it should be.

You know how they are.

Leftovers...

Not quite the same, but good enough, we say.

And so much easier!

Convenient.

I serve them to my family all the time!

In fact, sadly, maybe more often than not.

And I don't mean just for dinner, either!

Which brings me to my point...

How often in life am I giving those that matter most, my Leftovers?

These boys, who are my heart and soul,

often get whatever is '"Left-over" of me

whenever I think I am done with the rest of my commitments.

They get the little blob of energy that's left of me, after running around all day.

A cold slab of minimal effort, because I just want to be done already.

The crumbs that are left of my patience.

(Well, any that haven't already crumbled from dealing with other people's children.)

And if they are really lucky,

I might even top it off with the tiny little dollup of fun that I might actually have left.

But more often than they deserve,

they get the frantic, task-oriented Drill-Sargent Mom who is running short on time.

Or the exhausted, Do-It-Yourself Mom who is ready to collapse.

Even, occasionally, the grumpy, short-tempered, ornery Mom who is at my wits' end.

They get a signature on their homework slip for reading a story to me

while I made a mental grocery shopping list.

They get a "Woo-hoo" from me in the kitchen, amid the dinner preparations

when they play perfectly through their piano piece, all the way over in the Music Room.

They get a smile and an "Mmm, hmmm" when they show me their latest cool Wii maneuver,

Or tell me about the awesome play they ran in the football game at recess that day.

Neither of which, if quizzed, I could describe 30 seconds later.

They get a half-hearted high-five when they tell me their chores are done.

A two minute back tickle at bedtime, so I can rush to a set of photos that need editing.

Or a quick kiss goodnight as I run out the door for a Ladies' Night Out.

How often am I half-listening?

Looking past them?

Talking at them?

Or even in the same room, but far, far away in my thoughts?

All Leftovers...

I am serving them Leftovers.

Spending the majority of myself elsewhere

and then giving the little bit that's left, to them, as if it is enough.

I'm there, always, but am I really there?

I'm going through motherhood's motions, making mental lists.

Always the lists.

Planning ahead to the next thing.

The To Do's that can never be all the way done.

You know them...

The cyclical routines that fill our days.

Well, Matt told me of an incident that was his.

It occurred when I called him from the hospital that wondrous day.

Sobbed into the receiver that I needed him to come.

That Bronson was awake.

He ran to his truck and sped the 45 minute drive, as fast as he could safely get there.

But when he started his engine, there was a CD playing.

It was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing.

"Glory to God on High."

Fitting...

He sobbed.

The next song that came on was a Men's Chorus

"Rise up, oh men of God,

Be done with lesser things..."

He sobbed harder.

Said it struck him through the core.

He arrived at the hospital, still shaking.

As I think of that now, I realize that this is the time.

The time for me, as well, to be done with lesser things.

The time to focus on what is most important.

Most lasting. Most eternal.

More than ever before.

Not the good things.

Or even the better things.

But the best things.

The very best things.

As you approach the center of a bullseye,

the margin for possible error becomes more and more narrow.

The degree of accuracy necessary becomes more and more pointed.

We are approaching that bullseye, my friends.

At an ever-increasing rate.

I, for one, am consciously re-committing to be done with lesser things.

To stop serving the Leftovers of myself to my family.

But instead to be fresh, ready and more present in the present.

Ready for them with a Feast.

Birthday Party Meltdown...

2010-02-27T14:34:00.006-07:00

We had a little melt-down here at our home this morning...

The Mommy, who is admittedly still functioning on only half power,

completely FORGOT to take Trevan to a Birthday Party.

And not just any Birthday Party.

A very important Birthday Party.

A Best-Buddy's Birthday Party...

It had been over for an hour by the time he remembered

and asked me how much longer until it started.

Aye Carumba.

He melted...

Poor kid.

When you are six and you miss your Best Pal's Party...

the one you spent all week looking forward to...

the one we talked about just last night as we wrapped his gift...

Yeah, well when you miss THAT party

it is heartbreaking.

I felt awful.

As he shook with silent sobs,

I held him on my lap and noticed that his big, huge feet

now hang down almost to my ankles.

I took his face in my hands and asked him to forgive me.

He looked at me with those big green eyes and mumbled,

"It's okay Mom. I can go next year."

Ugh.

I wanted to crawl in a hole.

I called Hudson's Mom.

She saved the day.

"Yeah! We wondered where he was!", she said.

I apologized for being such a flake.

"Send him down for a cupcake and they can hang out for the afternoon," she invited.

Bless her heart.

I scraped my tender little boy up and glued him back together with this news.

He was thrilled and had totally recovered by the time he ran out the door, present in hand.

Thank goodness he is resilient.

Thank you, Gina!

And we owe you one, Hudsy!

We'll make it up to you!

Yeah, so just in case there was any question,

I am definitely NOT in the running for Mother of the Year!

I'm going to hang this photo up where I will be sure to see it... as a reminder... every day...

I have really GOT to pull it back together, uh?

Sheesh!

2010-02-27T01:58:00.001-07:00

I added a few pictures from the Radiothon to the 2.26.2010 post...
If you are interested, see them inserted in the text below.

Potty Success!

2010-02-26T23:26:00.003-07:00

What a big boy Dayne has been lately!

He even stepped it up another notch today...

He peed on the potty!

He was soooo proud of himself!

Can you tell?

Look at that huge grin!

And those awesome Lightning McQueen underoos...

Well, if they aren't the dang cutest thing ever!

He was adamant about doing everything all by himself...

Flushing bye-bye...

Washing "wif soap"...

On his tippy-tippy toes...

And racing down to the Game Room Candy Store to pick out a sweet treat!

A Dum-dum, of course! His fave!

Hmmm...

Maybe this big boy stuff isn't so hard after all!

2010-02-26T08:42:00.001-07:00

In response to this:

(A comment left this morning at 2:44 am:)

"Sara and/or fellow commentator's...

"I am sure you are swamped and don't ever have any time to read or respond to these blog comments,

but I notice as I have read other people's comments, I noticed a few said, "erased by author".

Are there requirements for these kinds of things?

If there are I would love to know,

so that I don't make a mistake and/ or offend anyone."

and another similar inquiry...

Please know that I do, NOW,

read every blog comment, e-mail and facebook message that comes my way.

In the hospital, that was difficult because of the sheer quantity of comments.

I scanned them and did read most,

gathered their intent and was buoyed up by their sentiment.

So please accept my sincere and heartfelt gratitude.

But my emotional state,

my anxiety about staying by Bronson's side and not leaving,

and my obsessive need to document every detail of the daily occurrences

not to mention my utter lack of sleep

made it difficult to actually read them all or comment in reply.

Even once we were home, I needed a few days to just... BE.

But now that I am trying to function like a real person again, I do make the effort.

Just so you know.

I do hear you.

And thank you... Thank you all for reaching out.

We have felt so loved and supported.

So please don't think that I don't take the time to read

what you take the time to write

and to send.

Because I do.

But as for the "erased by author" question, I can not say why.

Many of them have time stamps that are identical or similar to the post above or below.

Perhaps they were duplicates or contained errors that the author wanted to correct?

And to clarify, "erased by author" means they were erased by the author of the comment,

not by me, the author of the post.

I have done no moderation or editing of comments at all.

None.

Not even once.

I was told of only one unkind comment that came in to our blog

during the time we were at the hospital.

It was lengthy and pointed, I am told.

A dear friend was alarmed and concerned about me seeing it, fragile as she felt I was.

She petitioned another dear friend, of the tech-geek variety ;),

and together they guessed at my password, until they hacked in to my blogger account

and removed the unkind post before I could see it.

Thanks to them.

Very thoughtful.

I am guessing it included many of the same points

I was reamed for on the KSL comment boards,

after Bronson's story aired on the news.

Regrettably, those I did read.

Until Matt made me stop.

And I'll be honest,

they hurt my feelings.

A lot.

For about two days.

And then I realized that there are many people who do not know me.

Do not understand me.

Do not care to understand me.

Many people who are unhappy.

And who choose to be critical of others.

I believe this is done in an effort to feel better about themselves.

To extract some of their own pain and fling it out onto someone else.

Someone they judge.

Someone they feel that they are better than.

And I was just the one they threw their stones at that day.

These brothers and sisters in spirit who have forgotten me.

But surely they've moved on to someone else by now.

Sad. So sad.

Oh, how I wish they could see themselves the way their Father in Heaven does.

I wish they could see how much they have to share

if only they'd let themselves be opened, and then filled.

Filled with something better and sweeter than the anger, bitterness

and judgement that consumes them.

Oh, friends...

Let us learn not to judge.

But instead allow ourselves to love, unreservedly.

And to forgive, unconditionally.

Let us encircle one another in arms of safety.

With open hearts, willing to see and understand another's anguish.

Let us give freely,

benefit, that casts out doubt.

Let us leave the judging for The Judge.

And let us be masters of mercy.

And benevolence.

And so, my dear anonymous friend,

thank you for your question.

Thank you for the sweet comment that followed.

And thank you for giving me the opportunity to address this issue,

I'm sure you were not the only one wondering.

And please let yourself rest at ease...

I try never to be offended.

If you haven't guessed by now, I am an open book.

For better or for worse, I am outed.

But feelings, I think, are much better out than in.

And besides, offense has to be taken.

Picked up and owned.

And I choose to leave it lying.

Alone, by the side of my path.

Today is the day...

2010-02-25T22:00:00.015-07:00

This evening we had the amazing opportunity to go back to the hospital.
What? Why!?!
Why BACK to the hospital, you ask?
Well, quite simply, because we needed to go.
KSL Radio invited us to come and assist in their annual fundraiser
for Primary Children's Medical Center.
So of course, we absolutely agreed.

We were thrilled at the chance to give back in any way.
If there is any way we can help that wonderful place and those amazing people,
we will absolutely do it... for the rest of ever.
They gave us our boy back.
Healed and whole.
How can you ever put a price on the life of your child?
We could pay that hospital bill a hundred times over and never come close to repaying them.
They did what we could not do for ourselves.
Some people believe that medical science and faith are at odds.
At opposite ends of the spectrum.
I believe they are two languages telling the same story.
Seeking the same eventual truth. Perhaps with varying methods.
Or differing means working towards the same end. The same goal.
I believe our loving Father in Heaven guides the hands and the hearts of those here on earth
who have the knowledge and training to assist Him.
I believe that He allows us to do as much as we can do, to the best of our abilities,
to allow us to learn and grow, and to further research and knowledge.
And then I believe He steps in with His grace, and does the rest of the work necessary
to accomplish His will, whatever that may be.
In Bronson's case, it was for him to LIVE.
And not just live, but live HERE.
And not just here, but WHOLE.
Again, we could NOT be more grateful.
Ever so grateful.
Yet this gift we've been given will not go without price, philanthropically speaking.
And we are eager and ready to pay it in whatever way we can.
Expecting much of ourselves and our family.
We will serve willingly wherever we can.
Like at the KSL Radiothon.
And so we dropped everything, made the arrangements and went.
.

Which turned out to be very good for me.
And for my soul, still healing.
And even good for Matt, who does NOT like the spotlight.

Little B was charming, sweet and full of smiles and spunk.
He ate up all the attention.

Was into everything.

.
Ran around like crazy.

Played fetch with the stuffed moose.

.
High-fived the tech-guys.

Explored the set.

.
Flirted with the team of call takers.

And won over the hearts of the KSL TV and Radio personalities.

Like Carole Mikita and Doug Wright.

.
What a cutie.
They all loved him.
He ate popcorn from a cup and threw it onto the floor.

.
Which we tried our hardest to prevent, but well, that's why parents have hands.
And why they make vacuums.
To clean up messes.

So we told our story yet again.

(Twice actually.

TV News and News Radio.)
And asked for help.
Not for us, but for the hospital.
And for other children who need it.
We asked people to open their hearts and their wallets and give to a worthy cause.
There is still plenty of time.
The Radiothon goes through tomorrow.
We aren't the type that like to ask for things.
Especially for money.
But if you feel so inclined,
and if you have a dollar or more to spare,
this would be a wonderful way to spend it.
It all goes toward a deserving child.
Every single penny.
.

If you can find it in your heart, click here.

or call here: 1-800-762-PCMC (7262), or locally 801-575-KIDS (5437).

Maybe we can help another family take their child home!

Post script:

In reply to some of the questions and comments left in response to this post...

I apologize if I was not clear.

Thank you for allowing me to clarify...

Matt and I chose to participate in the KSL Radiothon

because it raises money to benefit Primary Children's Hospital.

Exclusively.

We were in no way soliciting funds for ourselves.

That facility and the medical personnel who helped to heal our son

will forever be worthy of our time and our efforts.

It is a cause we hope to adopt for the remainder of our lifetime

because it is now near and dear to us.

To be clear, Primary Chidren's Medical Center is a non-profit organization.

Their mission statement is "The child first and always."

Thus, they provide medical care for all children alike,

including needy children from around the entire Intermountain Region,

regardless of that child's ability to pay.

Physicians at the hospital actually donate their services

for patients who recieve charity assistance.

Our hope was that by sharing Bronson's story, we could garner some support for the hospital.

For them to continue to help other children.

Children who can not afford to get well on their own.

There are many annual fundraisers that benefit Primary Children's,

including TV and Radiothons and the door-to-door "Pennies by the Inch" drive.

We hope to be available to assist in many of these efforts over the years.

We will never tire.

We feel that where much is given, much is expected.

And we could not have received a greater gift...

Bronson's life was literally brought back to us.

And the experience we had there was life changing for us as well.

Not only did they give full-time and ever-diligent effort to our child,

even when it seemed unlikely for him to ever recover,

but they cared for us, his parents, while we were in shock, anguish and despair.

They helped us to prepare our other boys for what they were coping with.

Truly, they treated and helped to heal our entire family.

We have very tender feelings towards them and the amazing work they do there.

Every. Single. Day.

Anything that we can do to help them continue in their efforts there

will be a very small price to pay.

.
While we were at the hospital, I read a poster with a quote from Abraham Lincoln.

Good ol' Honest Abe.

He really was good.

And honest.

.
"To ease another's heartache is to forget one's own."

.
It struck me so strongly.
I knew this was the key the moment I saw it.
And we have tried to do that.
Tried to share the surplus of support we have been blessed with.
Tried to share and ease the burdens of others we have met and love.
But today...
Well, today I am making a choice.
This trip to the hospital tonight was as much about healing me
as the last one was about Bronson.
I have decided.
I am done feeling guilty.
I am done being ashamed.
I am done feeling like the poster-face for negligent mothering.
I am done beating myself up for a momentary lapse in judgement.
I am done feeling feeling crappy about all the pain I have caused.
Because I am not perfect.
Never will be perfect.
Not in this life.
But I can make a difference.
I can lift another's burden.
I can look for ways to serve. Give back. Share.
And I have found a voice.
That voice is getting stronger the more that it speaks out.
And as I speak from the keys on this little laptop,
I find my heart full and overflowing, often with words that are not mine alone.
For God has found a way to use me to strengthen others.
To strengthen you.
Perhaps this was not something I did, but something He allowed to happen.
For my own good. And for the benefit of others.
Knowing that I am stronger than I feel.
And have more to share than I knew.
But believing I had the tenacity to discover it.
Knowing Bronson's miracle would lead to others as it's ripples spread,
touching lives around the globe.
And so...
Today is a new day.
The day I learn to turn my pain over

and allow it to be washed away with the joy all around me.
I am still not sure exactly how, but only that it's right.
And that it's time.

2010-02-23T21:46:00.001-07:00

I cried again this morning...

Who would have thought I could even have more tears?

The fountain should have run dry long ago...

Another nightmare.

5 am.

I woke disturbed.

Couldn't shake that dreadful feeling.

The burning in my throat.

The one I try to blink back, back, back behind my eyelids.

That haunting emptiness that lingers underneath your gut,

threatening to overturn you.

Sleep was not a ready rescue or a willing ally.

I dressed for the gym, thinking I could outrun it.

Or out"ride" it rather, since it's Tuesday, which means it's my morning for Spin Class.

But then I thought of all the eyes I'd have to meet as I walked through the door,

inopportunely at the front of the bicycle fleet,

aglow in light from the brightness beyond.

Even in the darkened room, they would see my anguish.

Feel my shame.

I did not not want to cry with strangers.

Not even with dear friends, who I knew were watching,

waiting,

probably already spinning,

an empty bike at their side,

reserved for me.

Just another way

I'd let another someone

down.

Someone who was counting on me.

With that thought, the guilt that had been lurking in the shadows of my heart

came pounding in, claws curling, teeth bared, ready to consume me.

And so the tears began...

And then refused to stop.

Too much for today.

At not even 6 am.

So I stayed, scraping myself together,

and deciding to work on the last little piece of Cub Scout Pack Meeting for tonight.

The piece that is still mine.

The very small piece.

With a sigh, I realized all the friends who have had to step in and carry more than their load.

Do more than their job.

Because I've been gone. Busy. Otherwise detained with something much more important.

A matter of life and death, in fact.

And I cried harder.

And ached deeper.

To distract myself, I decided to download some photos.

Ones still waiting patiently in my camera, for their turn on my To Do List.

I'd barely regained my composure when the Images slowly appeared,

one by one on my screen.

Last week's trip to the Fire Station.

To visit the men

who first appeared

to help to save my son.

Through flooded eyes, I could barely see their brave and handsome faces.

Each of them so dear, although I barely know them.

Remarkable men... whom I had dumped my burden on.

Someone's brother.

Someone's son.

Someone's husband.

Someone's daddy.

Someone who fearlessly and instantly came, sirens blaring. To try and patch up my mistake.

Someone who's heart hung heavy, worrying their effort might have been be in vain.

Not enough to fix what I had done.

The weight of guilt can be physically crushing.

I looked away and shook their faces from my head.

Abandoning them for a stronger day.

And then another Image took the stage upon my screen.

My "Smalls"...

My TWO sweet little boys, shirtless, clad only in diapers and their priceless smiles,

strapped safely in their highchairs laughing at me.

Oh, what I had put them through.

Oh, what I had nearly taken from them.

The horror of what almost was washed over me,

through every fiber of my soul.

The tears were silent now, just steady streams of heartache.

Spilling out of eyes that could not bare to look.

Oh, how could I have born that agony?

How could I have gone on?

One less?

I surely would have crumbled.

6:15.

A quick check of my e-mail reminded me that it's not quick anymore.

Yes. I've read many. Gleaned most.

Absorbed them, really.

Tried to use them to fill that empty, aching hole of remorse.

But nevertheless, I am sure I've missed a few.

Still 4, 500 messages in my Inbox.

Not even counting the comments on our blog...

All those people...

Family. Friends. Neighbors. Friends of friends and neighbors. ...Even strangers.

Surely representing exponentially more that wept silently, without leaving a word.

Look at what I've done?

The ripples are so far reaching there's no telling where they'll stop.

So much sadness.

So much heartache.

So much anguish.

So many people cried for our boy.

So many people ached with us.

So many people I hurt.

Literally, around the world.

With one. Simple. Slip.

If you've ever thought you were alone, think again.

If you've ever thought you were an island and your choices were yours alone, think harder.

If you've ever had the audacity to feel lonely... Well, Ha! I have, too!

But we were both wrong, you & I.

No one is ever alone.

Ever.

Look at all... these... people...

Brothers and sisters in spirit

who I have pulled momentarily away from their own lives with my profound imposition.

Scrolling, still scrolling, my tears began to slow.

Now I feel like I'm the one who's drowning.

In the guilt and the regret.

As the immensity of responsibility threatens to overtake me.

It's just so big. And I, so very small.

Oh, how sorry that I am.

How very, very sorry.

Matt got the big boys up.

Made them a hot, cooked breakfast, like any other normal morning.

And at some point, he left for work.

Somehow I went through the motions of getting them ready for school.

Showered, dressed, beds made and back-packs packed.

And off they went with a kiss and a prayer.

My smalls still sleeping, I tried to go about my morning routine.

Already out of rhythm..

And so I called my sweetheart.

Told him how awful I felt.

Cried pathetically.

Told him about the guilt and the regret.

He listened.

Told me to remember that the blessings

far outnumber the mistake.

The joy far outweighs the pain.

Said the only one blaming me is me.

And perhaps a few unhappy strangers who do not know my heart.

Reminded me that the benefits of sharing our story far overshadow the risks.

Says he's grateful for all I've said.

Repeated, again, how much good has come of this, already.

Pointed out, again, how we have been used as instruments in the hands of God

to show His love, His mercy, His grace and His miraculous power.

He helped me to see what a pivotal occurrence this has been.

So many lives touched.

So many strengthened.

So many people reevaluating. Re-prioritizing.

So many kind, supportive words expressed.

So much faith renewed.

So many prayers petitioning heaven.

So many principles practiced with purpose.

So many, uniting.

So. Much. Power.

Man... he's getting good at this whole girlfriend pep-talk thing.

He also threw in a little plug about my need of sleep

and carefully suggested that I might be slightly more emotional than usual.

I felt a little better.

Like I could maybe do today after all.

Now I need to make something very clear...

I do not share this incident because I am fishing for any sort of consolation.

In fact, I think I'll try to turn off the comment section for this post,

for I know just what you'll say.

(I know what I would say if I were you...)

So thank you.

Thank you for hearing me.

You've saved me thou$ands in therapy, I am sure.

Thank you for putting yourself in my shoes.

Trying to imagine what it's been like.

Even though you do not want to, I assure you.

Thank you most of all for learning vicariously from our experience.

And pledging not to make the same mistake or any other like it.

Promising to remember and to try a little harder.

To stay more focused. To be more diligent.

To let the little things wait while you give more heed to that which really matters.

For the scope of what we've learned goes far beyond the bathtub.

Please appreciate each moment.

For once it's over, it is gone forever.

Do not let it leave you with regret.

If you are blessed with children in your life,

please embrace them for the amazing people that they are within.

Try to look them in the eye whenever you speak with them.

Connect, soul to soul, each and every day.

Allow yourself to be amazed and humbled by their depth and by their strength.

Respect them, even in their tiny, grubby packaging.

Thank them for the lessons that they teach you.

Even the painful, inconvenient ones.

For truly, what would you rather be doing anyway?

As for me, I have more reasons to rejoice than I deserve!

And believe me, I am so so grateful!

Yet there is still a part of me that's struggling.

Grappling with what I need to do and how to do it.

Knowing that where much is given, much is also required.

Well, what more could I be given?

And while I feel inadequate and insecure in a role that's way too big for me to fill,

I also recognize that this means there's room for growth.

And I'm still fighting to forgive that girl I live inside of.

But it will come, I'm sure. In time.

I know it will because it always has before.

I don't do grudges.

They are and never have been good for anyone.

I just have to figure out exactly how to grant myself that same type of pardon,

which is so much easier for me to hand to others.

Yet somewhere deep down I know

that as I find the strength to turn my broken heart over to my loving Savior, Jesus Christ,

that He will heal it.

That through His Atonement, which was on my behalf, as well as yours,

I will find the power to become better.

To accept the forgiveness He has already granted and to extend it to myself.

As for now, I want to share my hope.

And my conviction.

I know we have a Father in Heaven who loves us.

Who knows each of us by name.

Who knows infinitesimally what we need at each and every moment.

He hears our prayers.

He answers them.

He has a plan that we do not always fully understand.

He has an army of angels, ready to fight on His behalf and spread His word,

both here and on the other side of the veil, between this life and the next.

We are mindful that some who have lived this nightmare we've endured,

have had their sweet babies called home into His loving arms.

There were many times we feared that would be His will.

We were afraid but ready to accept it.

But for some reason, Bronson was allowed to stay with us.

Our loving Heavenly Father divinely intervened with the course of nature

and allowed our son to be healed.

Not only to survive, but to be restored. Fully.

He allowed Bronson to be brought back

under the worthy hands of his father's Priesthood blessing

and then repaired by the capable hands of doctors and nurses

who saw unprecedented and expedited results to their procedures.

We could not be more grateful.

We stand as fervent witnesses that He is a God of miracles.

We do not wish to overstate, but we know that a true and utter miracle

was certainly granted in Bronson's life and in behalf of our family.

We know that miracles are given as a benefit to all mankind.

This is much, much bigger than we are.

We feel the weight of this solemn responsibility.

An obligation coupled with a true and heartfelt desire to share his story

in hopes of strengthening the faith of others and cementing our own.

We hope to help Bronson grow to be worthy of the mission he is already fulfilling.

What a strong and incredible spirit he has.

He has overcome all odds.

He has not accepted limitations.

He has fought and defied all restrictions, and all while winning hearts with that contagious smile!

We are so blessed to know him.

To be taught by him.

We are thankful to know that our family is eternal in nature.

We love each one of our amazing boys and are so proud of each of them.

We find peace in the love and unity we enjoy within our home.

We are learning to embrace the imperfections.

To think of them as opportunities.

And we thank each of you...

For loving us beyond what we deserve.

For reaching out to us in our utmost time of need.

For answering our private prayers without even knowing it.

For lightening our burden and sustaining us.

Mourning with us while we mourned.

Comforting us while we stood in need of comfort.

You are truly angels here upon the earth.

May God bless you!

And may we all find the strength and the courage

to seek out another such family wherever we may be

and continue on in service.

Let us be always an army of refuge and support.

Of love and of light.

"Normal" is as normal does... right?

2010-02-22T14:07:00.000-07:00

As we try to settle back in to our life,
everything feels so similar, almost comfortable...
but somehow surprisingly different...
I guess we are still trying to find a new "normal"...
.
But this is about as 'normal' as it gets around here!
STRAPPED tightly into their highchairs,
side-by-side,
giggling at my silly lunch-making antics...
like Peanut Butter & Jelly Peek-a-Boo.
.

.
These two little stinkers are like two peas in a pod!
B follows his big bro around all day, just starstruck.
Mimicking every motion and gesture. Repeating the inflection of every phrase.
Eager to be on to the newest mischevious adventure.
D eats it up.
Loves to be the center of attention. Loves to be adored.
Such a pair.
Oh, what would I do without the TWO of them!

B Strong... B Fit... Be One... B THERE!

2010-02-20T00:39:00.010-07:00

As we acclimate back into "real life"
and marvel in the joy of just being HOME together,
our wonderful, a-MAZ-ing and completely over-achieving sister, Mindy,
is putting this great event together in our behalf.
{Sigh}
The blessings just seem to have no end.
We are absolutely thankful.
(Thanks, Mind!)
.
We are also grateful
that this will provide us with a much-needed opportunity
to thank so many of you for your love and support,
and allow us to throw you a bit of a Thank-You Party!
. .
So whether you run, or not... please
Come celebrate the gift of life with us
in honor of Bronson's second chance!

.
There will be a 5K and a Children's 1 Mile Fun Run.
Both starting at 9 am
Food, Games, Prizes, Raffles, Bounce Houses!

.
Register online @:
https://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1839825
.

We look forward to seeing you there!

Today I am grateful...

2010-02-16T22:26:00.008-07:00

Today I am grateful...
For the little pile of fishy cracker crumbs I get to vacuum from beneath the kitchen High Chair...
For the big, slobbery kisses smeared at the bottom of my full-length Bathroom mirror...
For two stinky little bums to change, and a diaper genie I get to empty...
For onesies to bleach... and wash... and fold... and put away for another day's use...
For bottles and sippy cups to empty from the Dishwasher...
For the pudgey, pounding little Fred-Flinstone-feet that toddle to answer our doorbell...
For the kisses blown abundantly to strangers, and to friends alike...

Sometimes even at me.
I am thankful for the never-ending chaos...
Grateful for the grimey little smudges on my Television screen...
Delighted to re-roll the potty-paper from half way across the room... yet again....
Appreciative of the wild, little maniacs I am able to chase and tickle to hysteria...
Oh, those contagious little giggles...

.
How I adore them.
How undeserving, and yet how exultant I am to collect them.
How welcome are those eager little arms, wrapping around their Mommy.

{Sigh}
Oh, how very fortunate am I...

Happy Valentine's Day, Sweets...

2010-02-14T20:19:00.009-07:00

Just to give credit where credit is due,

it was my sweet Matt, Bronson's loving and adoring Daddy,

who made the Video in the prior post (below)...

And it is the best Valentine's gift I could ever receive...

To have our little family ALL together in THIS part of our forever.

We don't have to wait until the eternities to be together again...

We are all here.

Today. Here. Now.

It was his faith that sustained me.

His arms that wrapped me in warmth in that cold, lonely hospital.

His sweet forgiveness that means more to me than anything else.

I thought I loved him on our wedding day.

I knew I did when we had our first baby boy.

And then more and more with each of the others.

But I did not even know who he was then.

I did not know the depth of his soul or the quiet power behind those warm brown eyes.

He is a man of few words.

(Well, compared to me at least...)

But whatever he shares is always sincere. Genuine. Enough.

I feel like the luckiest, most blessed girl in the world today.

Love you, Sweets. I am forever yours...

Happy Valentine's Day.

Love,

Toots

Bronson's Miracle

2010-02-14T00:22:00.001-07:00

We thank you forever for your prayers and your faith on behalf of our little family. We can not thank you enough for helping us to call down the healing powers of heaven to fix our broken little boy. We know that Bronson lives today because it is Heavenly Father's will that he be allowed to stand as a testimony of His miraculous power . We hope to make the most of this second chance. There are truly no words that can express gratitude of this magnitude. Just joy... Pure joy!
Love- The Staker Family

Undisputed Champion of the World...

2010-02-12T09:40:00.005-07:00

Ummm... yeah...

So as you can see, the Physical Therapy Appointment this morning went well...

Coming home...

2010-02-12T08:50:00.003-07:00

I type with one hand while I hold him...

as he helps every so often from my lap.

fedasx

There that was from him.

We just wanted to share more amazing news!

We are going home today!

HOME!

They see no reason to keep him!

When they discharged us from PICU to NTU yesterday,

there was talk of sending us home.

But they wanted to watch his pneumonia one more night

and so we stayed.

He slept on my chest all night, wanting his mommy.

Forgiveness is sweet.

We are heading to an Physical and Occupational Therapy Session this morning

at the hospital's Rehabilitation Gym.

Then we will say good-bye to beloved friends,

pack up the zoo of assorted new bedtime pals and come home with out little miracle.

Just wanted you to know what your prayers have done.

Words are utterly useless.

None sufficient to express relief and gratitude of this magnitude.

But thank you.

THANK YOU.

2010-02-11T16:57:00.003-07:00

Survived the Press interview...

{Insert BIG sigh of relief...}

They all seemed really nice.

I'd been worried...

Hoping they'd give things the positive spin they deserve.

But they were hoping for a story with a happy ending.

...This place needs one this week.

Thank goodness Bronson is the miracle they were looking for...

The miracle we were all looking for!

Oh, thank you Heavenly Father for granting us a miracle!

Sooo...
If you'd like to see our sweet boy on TV,

tune in to Channel 5 News at 6:00. Or Channel 4.

Unfortunately, you'll also have to watch me ramble to the cameras,

wearing clothes I dug out from the bottom of my bag.

Clothes I've worn 3 other times this week and slept in twice, by the way.

Will someone please DVR it for us?

Bronson will love to see himself on TV.

And maybe someday I'll want to roll my eyes at myself on camera.

Gag...

I really hate to be on the wrong side of the camera...

I'd much rather be behind it!

Big Steps Forward...

2010-02-11T12:49:00.004-07:00

As if we haven't had enough miracles...

This morning we've made another few big steps toward coming home!

B is walking!

He is playing fetch with his new favorite ball!

(Thanks, Auntie Krista!)

And he is off all oxygen and support and is on only minimal monitoring.

No one can believe it!

It is all smiles here!

Poor Little Bobble-head...

2010-02-10T22:14:00.001-07:00

Brons has lost so much weight, he almost looks like a little Bobble-head!

Poor kid!

But hey, we are just thrilled to see him, skin & bones, sitting up by himself

and holding up that big, giant noggin without help!

And seriously, look at those poor, tired, baby blues...

He can barely keep his eyes open!

Our little guy has just been through the ringer!

Cross your fingers for a good night's rest...

Heaven knows we could all use one!

Marching one by one... Hurrah, hurrah!

2010-02-09T22:30:00.003-07:00

More playtime fun!

A few small steps... giant leaps!

2010-02-09T22:17:00.000-07:00

Just to keep things fun, I thought we'd tip you the other way, just to even things out...

(Sorry... I'm a photographer, please remember... NOT a videographer!)

Here's B thinkin' he can just toddle right on outta here!

"Come on guys! Let's go!"

"Do As I'm Doing" happy time...

2010-02-09T22:16:00.000-07:00

If you know Bronson well,

you know that his FAVORITE thing in the whole world

is the song "Do As I'm Doing".

That little turkey will come running from anywhere in the house

as soon as he hears anyone singing it...

So when the big bros came for a visit last night,

they just had to have some play time!

So fun!

Sweetest smile in the world...back again...

2010-02-09T17:37:00.000-07:00

Sorry this is sideways... I am too tired to try to figure out how to rotate it.

Just tip your head sideways and enjoy! ;)

Words can not express...

2010-02-09T17:36:00.000-07:00

I am speechless...

And you all probably know by now, that takes a lot...

Wow...

What a difference 24 hours can make.

I'm not even going to TRY to describe.

Joy...

Pure joy!

AWAKE and back in our arms...

2010-02-09T16:02:00.004-07:00

{Insert happy sigh here}...

He is awake!

...and back in our arms!

Remember that hunch?

2010-02-09T09:59:00.004-07:00

WE HAVE A MIRACLE HAPPENING HERE IN ROOM 2314!

I want to shout it from the rooftops!

My fingers can barely type,

I am shaking...

BRONSON IS AWAKE!

HE IS HERE!

HE IS LOOKING AT ME!

HE IS TRACKING THE TEDDY BEAR WITH HIS EYES!
HE SMILES AT ME WHEN I TICKLE AND PLAY WITH HIM!

HE REACHES FOR THINGS WITH REASON!

HE RESPONDS TO OUR COMMANDS!

WORDS CAN NOT EXPRESS...

HE IS IN THERE AFTER ALL!

LIGHTS ON!

HE LOOKS JUST LIKE MY BOY!

JUST LIKE OUR BOY!

Just a few minutes ago I came into his room.

I crashed hard-core last night.

Could NOT keep my eyes open any longer.

Slept too late this morning.

Can't remember the last time I slept that long.

I walked in his Room about 9:45 in the middle of an Occupational Therapy session.

They tried to get him to sit yesterday. It did not go well.

Today, they thought they'd try lowering the Precedex.

That darn Precedex...

About half an hour after they turned off the sedation,

he began tracking between the Occupational Therapist and his Nurse, Heidi.

They were shocked.

They tried to call me but there is no cell phone coverage in the parent sleep cells.

Then I slept through the overhead page.

Man, were they excited to show me when I walked in the room!

It was that Precedex.

I KNEW it!

It was the only thing I could think of as we'd poured over his chart looking for an explanantion.

Apparently even the uber-low dose they had him on was too much for his virgin blood.

(He's like his Mama... Just a couple tylenol will knock me out...)

The Nurse Practitioner showed me a text on his pager from our Nurse Heidi, that said

"Bronson is awake and surprisingly alert. Tracking. Sitting. There is no reason this kid needs to be intubated. You must come see! "

All the hospital staff and nurses who love him have been in to see already.

They are thrilled!

We called Daddy.

He wept.

He is driving as fast as he can to get here safely.

He told me of the prayers and scriptures he and our big boys had read together last night.

The tender prayers and the first fast of Bronson's sweet brothers have done this.

The faith of his Daddy has brought this to pass.

The prayers and faith of all of you, collectively petitioning Heaven on his behalf.

The will of God has been shown...

To use our tiny sweet strong and incredible boy

as an instrument in His hands.

To unite strangers and loved ones in faith.

To bear testimony of His love and His power.

We thank you for your prayers.

We thank you for the power of your fast.

We thank you for your faith and sustaining love and support from across the globe.

God IS a God of miracles.

Let us never never forget!
Let us never be afraid to share our testimonies boldly.

Unabashed.

I have a million things to share, but will keep this short, so I can go and be with my boy.

He is back!

Oh thank Heaven he is back!

Bronson's True Colors...

2010-02-08T23:24:00.006-07:00

Just thought you might like to see what Baby Brons looked like

before all of the tubes and wires...

I am a card carrying member of the Mamrazzi, after all.

(For those of you who don't actually KNOW me, I own a portrait photography business.

My own boys are, of course, my very favorite subject matter!)

These are Bronson's most recent True Colors Portraits...

A series of Monochromatic Images I created from his 12 Month Session

to remind me of all the expressions we love most at this age...

Love, love, LOVE that smile!

Mmmm... mmm... mmm!

He has always been a "watcher"...

Big, bright eyes taking in the world around him...

And then there's that tongue of his...

Always out in concentration.

Just like his Daddy and his big brother Dayne.

And this look of absolute, unmistakable worry...

He was a born worry-wart. Made this face from birth. Literally.

And his red-hot temper...

Of all our boys, he has by far the shortest fuse.

He's pretty outspoken about what he wants!

And then that crooked little grin with the contagious giggle...

Oh, how I love that giggle...

{Sigh}

I miss it tonight...

Wiggle worm...

2010-02-08T01:25:00.007-07:00

Auntie Bugud, this is for you...

(before you go completely manic from the isolation and the not knowing...)

Sorry this update has been so long in coming... it's just been a tad bit busy!

But I hope you'll agree it was worth the wait...

We are still not back to where we were three days ago,

(no tracking yet, and still a lot of open-eyed blank staring)

but we are getting occasional eye contact!

Here's proof!

As of early Saturday morning, Bronson has 2 new periphreal IV's.

Crazy how many times this poor kid has had to be punctured, poked and probed.

Also crazy how little I care about those tiny little things any more.

Before this, I would get all worked up about a tiny scratch or scrape on my perfect little child.

Let alone a big ol' nasty bruise.

But let's face it, once your kid has been on life support for a few days,

a needle poke seems like a whole lot of nothin'.

So, the IV in his right arm got a little leaky,

and they put a brand spankin' new one back into his left.

He passed his 9 am SBT with flying colors.

Perfect breathing without the ventilator for an hour.

But by 11, he was having increasing difficulty with his respirations, even on the vent.

He was pulling really hard with each retraction, getting more and more agitated.

I just feel so helpless to see him like that.

They took him off the vent long enough to bag and suction him.

I think I held my breath the whole time.

So, so scary.

The RT came and increased his pressure support back up to 12.

By noon he was relaxed and had started to get his color back.

His brothers came for a visit around 2.

Bronson was in the middle of another SBT,

so we took a break while he slept and went up to the Children's Room with them.

Daynen just looks so big all of the sudden!

Why do they always wait to grow up until you miss a day or two of their lives?

Then they look so different!

Crazy!

Kaden made a paper mache mask and played in the arcade for a bit with Matt.

A racing game, I think.

Trevan colored a poster and then played Foosball with a hospital volunteer.

Daynen, well, he was Daynen.

He ran around like crazy and played with every toy he could get his hands on.

What a nut! I forgot how much he makes me chuckle.

Man, I miss those boys...

Back up in B's room at 3, we found that he'd passed his SBT.

Yay! One more sign of encouragement!

Then, late last evening, the RT felt it was safe to hold him.

It is quite a process...

They have to rearrange the room to accommodate all the tubes and wires.

Wheel the IV and Meds Pump Stand all the way around the bed.

Safety pin the vent tubes to your shoulder to hold them in place.

Position about 4 pillows to support him and all his miscellaneous paraphernalia.

Kind of a laborious task.

But definitely worth it!

I told Matt to go first.

Bronson slept through it the night before, but this time he became increasingly agitated.

We had to discontinue and settle him back in bed at about 11:30.

We were all worn out. I could barely keep my eyes open!

We wheeled our big fat bags down the hall to the Parent Sleep Rooms

and looked for the Post-it Note marking our door.

There was no Post-it Note marking our door.

They'd forgotten to request one for us.

Who could we call at 12:30 for a bed?

The gave us a list of hotels that offer discounts to PCMC parents.

Matt decided we should go home.

By the time we would call and find a hotel with availability, get there,

check in and get settled, we could be home, he said.

I get anxiety at the thought of leaving my baby.

That is how we got into this mess...

I was exhausted.

I cried as we pulled our bags out the front doors of the hospital,

across the courtyard and into the parking garage to find Matt's truck.

The first time I'd set foot any farther from his room than the cafeteria.

Leaving our boy upstairs... alone.

Matt phoned Alli and woke her up to warn her we were on our way.

We would just sneak in and sleep downstairs in our spare bedroom, he said.

We just didn't want to startle her coming in.

I reclined the seat in his truck and cozied up in my blanket.

We chatted for the first few minutes of the drive, but then suddenly I woke and we were home.

Our wonderful, thoughtful Alli had changed the sheets on our bed and insisted we sleep in it.

I was too much of a wreck to argue.

We slept like parents who haven't in a week.

We woke early. Before the boys.

Emptied our bags of dirty laundry. Repacked them.

Showered in our own shower.

Oh...

The shower...

Right by the tub...

I tried not to look at it as I walked past.

But as I finished my shower and went to step out, there was no bath mat.

Where was the bath mat?

Why did we have no bath mat?

And then I remembered it'd been covered in Bronson's breakfast during CPR.

Thank you to whoever threw it away.

I stood there, cold and shivering, trying not to remember as the scene flashed through my mind.

I could not stand there to get dressed.

There will have to be a new place now.

Somehow Matt got me to finish getting dressed.

Kaden woke.

We had a sweet few moments, one on one.

Matt explained how to fast for strength.

Kaden said he might bear his testimony in church.

I asked him what he'd say. I wished I could be in two places at once.

We knelt and prayed to begin our fast.

We were in the truck ready to head back by 9 am this morning.

The neighborhood was quiet as we drove through.

I thought fondly, gratefully of my neighbors and friends as we passed each house.

Wondering when I might see them next.

We called the hospital en route.

Bronson had slept soundly.

A sigh of relief.

We pulled in just before 10 am.

We wheeled our bags through the cold, empty hallways.

Smiling and waving to the now familiar faces as we passed.

We went in to see our boy.

He survived another night.

Even without me by his bedside.

He's a champ.

Somehow I survived it, too.

Sacrament Meeting is held in an auditorium on the 3rd floor at 10:30.

We walked into the room hand in hand to meet the warm, welcoming gazes

of doctors, nurses, parents, various patients and the angel volunteers.

It was a group of about 60.

We sang and we prayed with strangers we felt strangely akin to.

The Sacrament was blessed and passed.

I thought how broken our hearts were.

How contrite our spirits.

Now, more than ever before.

The Sacramental Prayers had new meaning as I heard the promises again with tender, new ears.

Oh, how grateful and unworthy I am to take His name upon me.

Oh, how I need to remember Him, always.

Oh, how I need His spirit to be with me, to comfort and guide me.

And oh, how grateful I am for His cleansing blood. Which was shed for me.

Just a handful of testimonies were born.

Humble. Touching. Powerful.

We both quivered as we tried to sing the closing song.

A familiar favorite, now with new and deeper meaning.

"Because I have been given much, I too must give.

Because of thy great bounty Lord, each day I live.

I shall divide my gifts from thee with every brother that I see,

who has the need of help from me.

Because I have been sheltered, fed by thy good care.

I can not see another's lack and I not share.

My glowing fire, my loaf of bread, my roof's safe shelter overhead,

That he too may be comforted.

Because I have been blessed by thy great love, dear Lord.

I'll share thy love again according to thy word.

I shall give love to those in need, I'll show that love by word and deed

Thus shall my thanks be thanks indeed."

I bowed my head as the closing prayer was offered and promised my Father in Heaven

that I would never pass up an opportunity to serve someone in need

if I had the means to help them.

I am so unequal to the blessings that are continually poured out upon me and my little family.

Many from Him, and many by those of you who serve Him faithfully.

If I spent the rest of my days in constant service,

I could never repay you for all of the kindnesses extended to us.

Let alone my debt to Him.

We arrived back in Bronson's room feeling nourished and strong.

we spent a couple of quiet hours listening to Primary Songs and reading.

He passed another SBT but then we found him struggling.

As soon as it was over, he began to seem tachypneic ( pronounced tah-kip-nic).

That's a big fancy way to say he was breathing really fast and hard,

with a heart rate to match.

He seemed to be pulling in so hard for air. Like breathing through a straw.

Retractions heavy. Head bobbing. Looking exhausted.

They bagged and suctioned him.

I hate that.

A little after 4, I noticed his tummy looked a little too rounded.

It was unmistakably distended.

I pointed it out to Molly, the Nurse, today.

She agreed.

She called in Cory, the Nurse Practitioner,

and together they decided another NG (Nasal Gastric) Tube was the best course of action.

Using a large syringe, she pulled out over 180 cc of trapped air

and about 50 more cc of stomach fluid. Poor kid.

Once out, it seemed to relieve the pressure and his tummy softened and looked normal again.

A little after 6, he had his 8th poopy diaper of the day.

As I changed it and weighed it for the nurse, I noticed that his poor bum is looking quite red.

Not just a normal red, but bumpy and fierce.

I knew right away it was yeast from the antibiotics.

Molly called Cory again, and they both concurred.

They wrote up an order for Nyastatin ointment.

Around 8, they started him on his final SBT for the day.

He was resting so soundly, I wondered if it was really worth bothering him.

The RT assured me that it was worth the exercise

if we want to strengthen his little lungs enough to have a chance at extubation tomorrow.

Alright, already...

He sailed through it.

Yay!

The only other thing worth mentioning is that he found his own new little groove today.

He has figured out how to wiggle worm his way down into the crib

so that he is laying at a diagonal,

with his right arm up above his head

often grabbing the siderail pole

and his left foot pressing up against or hanging out of the other side.

And usually tapping.

He is insistent about maintaining this position!

(Funny because he does that at home!)

Molly, Matt and I all tried for several hours

to straighten him into a more comfortable looking position,

propped up and laying straight, but he was NOT havin' it!

It only took him about 30 seconds to rerrange himself

RIGHT back to the way he wants to be, each time.

We finally gave up trying!

Hey, if that's how he's comfy... Whatev!

He has also started doing this crazy yoga maneuver, something like a complete backbend.

He doesn't seem to be particularly agitated or bothered when he does it,

just every so often, but dang!

He wants outta this bed!

He's a strong little sucker!

Close to my heart...

2010-02-08T00:45:00.005-07:00

A few days ago, my dear friend, Jane, sent me a text from her anniversary trip to Maui.

"Our flight comes in tomorrow morning," she explained.

"We'd like to stop by the hospital and see you on the way home from the airport."

"We'll be here," I said.

"I'm not going home until I can take him with me."

The visit was a wonderful distraction from the mundane day.

They are wonderful friends.

She brought a gift, of course... She's Jane.

She's always great at giving gifts.

They are always perfect.

This one was no less.

She took my shoulders and looked me in the eye.

"I know you said you are not leaving the hospital without him," she said.

"But at some point you are going to have to...

You still have 3 other babies at home who need you."

"I got this so that whenever you are ready, whenever you have to go,

you can take him with you and keep him close to your heart."

{Sigh...}

Jane.

Like I said, it's perfect.

I love, love, LOVE it.

I love, love, LOVE that girl.

I have not taken it off...

Baby Steps...

2010-02-06T23:03:00.005-07:00

It was kind of a slow, quiet day for our little man...
The big thing to report today is the continuation of his arm movements.
Up and all around and even above his head.

Yay!

.
He was awake for much of the day, but still had that blank empty stare that we hate.
{Sigh...}

.
They did remove his femoral central IV line.
There's our one line out for the day.

Five poopy diapers. Count them... 5!
.

He also had a couple of Spontaneous Breathing Trials.

(That is where they turn the ventilator onto standby mode and allow him to breathe for himself to see how he'll do when they attempt extubation again.)

He was a little agitated when they turned the pressure support down from 12 to 8,

so they tried again and he was able to hold steady at 10.

They'll try another in the morning.

One step at a time... right?

We got to hold him again.

Amazing.

We had lots of wonderful visitors and have some incredible stories to share.

Truly incredible...

But I'll have to beg your apologies...

We are all tired tonight, so I'll have to keep you waiting.

Because, after all, that is what we are doing.

Just waiting...

A week ago... right now...

2010-02-06T11:01:00.006-07:00

A week ago right now, I lived in a beautiful, beloved home

that I can hardly remember right now,

as I sit here in this giant, cold building I can not leave.

My biggest concerns were how I would gently remind Matt, without nagging,

that the undecorated Christmas tree still needed to be carried down to the storage room.

It was driving me crazy that it was already the end of January

and my Valentine's Day decorations were still not up.

I was far too frustrated by the final five pounds I've been battling so hard against.

The ones that simply refused to melt off my hips.

I was trying to figure out how to squeeze in a pedicure that afternoon

and still get the laundry caught up.

Worried about getting the invitations out for our Super Bowl Party.

(Who is playing again?)

And anxious to getting started right away on my next book.

Who was that girl?

I want to go back in time and warn her that her charmed life is about to be turned upside down.

That someone is about to pull out the rug...

Right now, there was bath water running into the tub.

Right now, I was walking down the hall for the pajamas.

Right now, I was thinking that I could quickly put away the laundry.

Right then, I had forgotten what was most important...

I want to shout to her, "No! Don't leave them!"

"Hurry back! They need you!"

"Stop! That will wait!"

How I wish I could turn back the clock.

Life can turn on a dime...

Right now, my biggest concern is if my baby can get enough oxygen to keep himself alive

as they try to wean him off the vent.

It is driving me crazy that it is the end of the week and we still don't have any idea what his long-term prognosis might be.

I zipped up my skinny jeans today and it wasn't nearly as exciting as I'd imagined it would be.

The motherload of poop we found in Bronson's diaper yesterday was 10x more thrilling.

Maybe 100x!

Funny how perspective can change...

Waxing and waning...

2010-02-06T09:59:00.008-07:00

Right now, this minute, Bronson is moving his right arm... again.
The one he only twitched just a little bit yesterday.
The one they said might be partially paralyzed due to neurological damage.
The one that was unresponsive during the Neuro-Assessment just earlier this morning.
They say these types of brain injuries can evolve.

That there will be "waxing and waning".

...Glad to be back to the waxing!

So as I gave him a little sponge bath and styled his funky little faux hawk,
he batted my hand away. Cognitively. Several times.
Just like he does at home when he's bugged with my ceaseless primping and polishing.
.
I ran out and grabbed the Nurse Practitioner, Kristen.
Dr. Bennett ran in as well.
It was smiles all around the room.
I hate to say I told you so...
But ...then maybe I don't! ;)

Chasing out fear, choosing faith...

2010-02-05T22:42:00.014-07:00

The MRI was encouraging.
{Insert HUGE sigh of relief...}
No visible sign of damage to the brain.
That does not insure that the functionality of all his faculties is intact,
but at least it is not a negative.
At least it is not more BAD news.
Today has been our scariest yet.
And also our most sacred.
What a juxtaposition of emotion...
.
I went to bed at about 4:30 Friday morning.
Baby B was resting quietly.
I kissed him goodnight and said a prayer with him at his bedside.
He opened his eyes and our hearts connected.
Spirit to spirit.
For just a brief moment
Good Night, my sweet boy, I said.
.
I went to my sleep cell a few hallways away.
Thank you, Savannah, for the electric blanket.
I was warm and slept soundly until about 8:15.
I woke and packed up my bag, pulling it back down the hallway,
greeting the familiar faces along the trek.
Another day here at the PICU.
.
As I walked into B's room and met the new Day Nurse, Rowdy,
I was immediately alarmed.
In the bed where I'd left my little boy to heal and rest
lay a glassy-eyed guy with a blank, empty stare.
My stomach dropped...
"So how are we this morning?", I asked cautiously.
Rowdy filled me in on the morning's Neuro Exam.
He'd come on shift to meet Bronson for the first time and had been advised of his exciting progress.
But he'd found him a little sluggish.
Wide awake, but not really alert.
Staring blankly without focusing. Looking right through everyone.
Unresponsive to stimuli.
What had changed in those 3 hours and 45 minutes?
.
The Nurse Practitioner was called.
Then the Attending Physician.
Then the Neuro-Trauma Specialist.

We went over and over his chart, again and again.

We asked about all his medications.

What had changed? What had increased? What was new since yesterday?
We hypothesized about the possible changes and his sudden decline.
No one had any answers.

Had we imagined the encouraging progress? Embellished it? Misunderstood it?
No, I had seen my boy.
We had seen our boy. We were sure of it.
Others were sure of it.

We even had him on video from the day before.

Dr. Bennett explained that a neuro-trauma injury can evolve and often plateau.

Was this our plateau?

Was this the boy we would be left with?

We felt defeated.

Like someone had just let the air out of our balloon.

.
We may have to wait for an MRI until Monday.
How could we wait until Monday?
No, they could squeeze us in.
We waited the long, drugerous hours until 3:00 pm.
.
Our Stake President stopped in to see how we were doing.
He found us worried. Well, terrified. Faltering in our faith. Sick.
Matt gathered himself and they offered Bronson a Priesthood Blessing.

Matt... Oh, my Matt...
He turned his little body and mind back over to the God who had helped us to create him.
Asking for the faith to discover Heavenly Father's will and the strength to follow it.
To align ours with His.
President Francom counseled and advised. Hugged and encouraged.

What a blessed servant of the Lord.

He left us and I plead for your prayers.
They took Bronson down for the MRI.
Matt and I held each other in that empty little hospital room and fell apart in each others' arms. Sobbing and clinging to one another, praying.
Pleading for our son with every ounce of strength we could muster.
Sealing our hearts together.
Like never before.
I can not share the words we spoke with one another.
They are the most precious we have ever shared together.
But as I spoke, I realized that faith can not grow where fear is allowed to dwell.
There is not room in my heart for both.

Fear is the paralyzing agent of the adversary.

A first line of his defense.
And so I made a choice.
I must choose faith. Choose to believe. Despite the odds.

Despite the grim news. Despite the reality before us.
No matter how vulnerable and unguarded I let myself become, I will not, I can not fear.
I swallowed hard. Past the unbearable burn in my throat.

And chose to let go of the fear. Chasing it out with my faith.

Doctors do not know everything. They can only make their best guesses.
And even they admit to seeing miracles every day.
.
I know Heavenly Father lives.
I know He loves Bronson and has a plan for his life.
If it is God's will for him to remain with us, he will.
Simple as that.
And with the whole world praying, what have I to fear?
The Lord is bound to answer the prayers of the righteous when they are asked in faith.
And this is the righteous desire of our hearts...
We plea that He will spare our son. Heal his body. Protect his mind.
So that he may live out the rest of this mortal life as a testimony of God's miraculous power.
I can not consider the other option.
There is no other option.
.
But I am stronger than I thought I was.
I can do hard things.
Our family can do hard things.
We will accept the will of our loving Father in Heaven because it has never lead us astray.
Why would it now?
We will trust. We will be believing.
We will continue loving and being loved.
And we will press on faithfully, because we are faithful.
.
This I know...
Bronson's spirit is untouched. It lies within a broken body I do not know how to fix.
But he is ours. Forever. Come what may.
I am blessed to be his Mommy. Matt to be his Daddy.
.
The name Bronson means "Strong one".
The name Micheal means "One who is like God".
It is no coincidence that we chose these names for him.
What a powerful force he is...
Our strong, sweet, wonderful, beautiful boy.
By small and simple things, great things are brought to pass.
And great things have already come to pass.
People who do not pray, are praying.
People who do not believe, are finding hope.
People are reevaluating their faith and priorities.
I am reevaluating my faith and my priorities.
And THAT is the miracle.
He is uniting people across the globe.
Literally.
Teaching the power of prayer. Individually. And how collectively, it multiplies exponentially.
Allowing us an opportunity to practice our faith. And allow it to grow.
.
I do not know why our family was chosen to pass through this challenge.
But I do know that God is mindful of each and every one of us.
All of the time.
He reaches out with tender arms of mercy.

In tiny specific ways.
Extending his grace until we are filled. Until we are enough.
.

Our Angel Nurse, Sally, helped us to hold him tonight.

To cradle our arms around him, stroke his tender cheeks and watch him sleep.

We sang to him that he is a Child of God.

A bit of Heaven was in our little room

as I felt his warm, limp body pressed against my own.

Count your blessings if you can do that without tubes and wires and machines between you.

For anyone keeping score we are two tubes down today.

Bye bye to the peripheral IV line in his ankle.

Good riddance to the arterial line in his bloody little wrist.

We will not miss them.

But we reluctantly welcomed two more necessary peripheral IV lines.

One in his left ankle. The other in his right hand.

We still do not know what is causing the seemingly unexplainable decrease

in his neurological functions today, as opposed to yesterday and the day before...

I have a hunch, but I'm not a doctor.

I'm just the Mommy.

Thank heaven I get to be the Mommy!

More prayers needed...

2010-02-05T15:55:00.003-07:00

I know we are not the only family dealing with heartache...

I pray you will not tire of our ceaseless requests for your faith and your prayers.

We are humbled to our very cores...

To the very fiber of our souls.

If there is anyone watching and waiting with us, this afternoon,

we plead, one more time, for your prayers.

Things are not going so well here today...

I have never been so afraid...

Even Matt, my rock, is wobbling a bit

for the first time.

His solid faith being chased out by the fear of the reality

we are dealing with hour to hour, and minute to minute.

The once confident doctors are worried...

We can see it in their kind eyes,

written in the creases of their weathered, experienced faces.

They do this every day.

I could never...

There seems to be no logical reason for his sudden decline.

They've sent him for an MRI.

He'll be gone an endless, torturous hour.

The results back a few after that.

We'll have a better idea this evening.

But for now, if you are able and willing,

please petition to heaven for our family.

Please ask our loving Father,

creator of Heaven and earth, and all things in them

to heal our broken boy.

I watched the beautiful snow fall this morning

and thought how many endless things he has created.

The majesty of the mountains I can see out my windows here.

The vastness of the oceans across the globe.

The tiny, delicate blossoms that will bloom again in Spring.

Certainly He can do all things.

Certainly He can mend this child's mind.

Please pray for Bronson.

Please don't be afraid.

Pray with faith and confidence

for God is bound to answer the prayers of the righteous.

We pray that Bronson will live, as a testimony of Heavenly Father's infinite, boundless power.

We pray He will say yes.

Please let Him say yes...

2010-02-05T07:30:00.001-07:00

So I gave my self permission to be human.

Took a shower...

Shaved my legs...

Matt kindly told me at lunch three days ago that I still had vomit in my eyelashes.

(Leftover from the sputtering during CPR.)

I finally washed the last of it out.

I feel almost like a person again.

Although, not the same one.

Never the same one.

Alone tonight...

2010-02-05T01:57:00.002-07:00

Our sweet 3 came to visit their littlest buddy

and {insert happy sigh...} it was nice to squeeze them.

Matt went home tonight.
Needed to be a Daddy.
Bless him.
.
He is so confident that all will be well.
He is so sure.
So faithful.
I am in awe of his strength.
.
I, on the other hand, am a trainwreck.
.

.
All over the place.
The nights are harder than the days.
That is when I find myself falling apart.
People keep saying I am doing so well. I am so strong. I am amazing.
Hog wash to all of you.
.
As evidence, let me share this little diddy for your reading enjoyment...
So the other night
(We'll call it Night 3 because the days and nights all blend together here
and well, to be honest, I'm not even sure exactly what day it is right now.)
I was up late. I was tired.
Scratch that... I was exhausted.
And emotionally drained.
(In hind sight, I realize that NOW.
But at the TIME, I had fooled myself into thinking I was handling things quite well.)
However, I was driven... focused.
It was the night I decided to start posting to our blog.
To spread the word.
To preserve a record.
To process through everything that was happening.
To keep my mind off things.
And well, let's be honest, if you know me, you know I always need a project.
So I cozied up in a corner recliner in B's Room with my Laptop.
And as I hacked my guts out onto the screen, I sobbed.
The poor Night Nurse (always in the Room in the PICU) kept asking if I was okay.
I was fine.
Couldn't he see I was fine?
Duh.
So I ran into some hiccups.
There was an issue when I added the the photos to my post and it messed up the formatting.
Then the autosave failed.
I could not get the text to copy and paste to a new post.
I had to drag and drop it one section at a time.
I was near-finished in the wee hours but nodded off at my Laptop.
Cody, the Night Nurse came to tell me it was 7 am.
Time for parents and visitors to leave the room for an hour during shift change and assessments.
I hate that hour. It is misery to leave his bedside.
I went and got a yogurt from where I'd stashed them in the Nutrition Center fridge.
Then choked down a banana.
I went potty and brushed my teeth.
I washed my face in the sink.
It was only 7:15.
I still had 45 minutes until I could return to Bronson's room.
I snuck in and snagged a blanket.
It is always cold here. I've been an ice cube since we arrived.
I wrapped myself up in a little cocoon and sunk down on the floor
to wait until I could be readmitted to the room.
But I was just so tired! So so so tired!
The next theing I knew, Ian, the Daytime Nurse was crouching above me.
Sleeping on the cold tile floor in the hallway outside Bronson's room.
Telling me I had to wake up.
Telling me to go to bed.
Telling me to look at him and asking could I hear him
as I lay silently, unresponsively staring at the floor.
I looked up into his eyes and the floodgate broke.
"Don't make me leave him! Please don't make me leave him!
That's why we're in this mess in the first place! I just can't ever leave him!"
I sobbed.
Bless his heart.
He literally scooped me up beneath the armpits,
from the puddle of a person I was on the floor,
wrapped me a little tighter in my blanket,
walked with,
well okay, practically carried me
down the hall to the parent sleeping cells,
found Matt
and tucked me into bed.
Yeah... like I said.
Trainwreck.
.
Thinking back now I shake my head at how pathetic it all must have seemed.
But now, with Matt gone, I feel so alone.
And as I watch that tiny boy sleeping,
I feel that familar tightness firing up in my throat
and have to swallow down the tears.
.
And then I remember that I am not alone at all.
There are hundreds of you awake with me, praying.
An army petitioning our loving Father.
Enough to get my little train back on the track and chugging up the hill...
For now.
Many thanks~
A hug to each of you.

Three Steps Forward, Two Steps Back...

2010-02-04T18:47:00.004-07:00

They told us this would be a roller coaster.
.

.
They told us it would be touch and go.
They told us it would be hard... and heart wrenching.
We knew there was a likely chance that he could back slide at some point.
.
But with all of you praying, from LITERALLY across the globe,
exponentially increasing our own faith and prayers,
we thought he would be the exception.
Our boy must be the most prayed for baby in the world today.
We are touched to the depths of our souls.
But we're just one of a hundred families with a child in the PICU.
One of dozens of tragic, heartbreaking stories.
We are no different than they are.
.
The morning was off to a good start.
I was cautiously optimistic.
I actually felt peaceful for the first time since the incident.
.
I knew it would be a good day.
.
They got an early start.
We peeled a couple quick layers off Our Little Onion...
.
His fluid level is finally in check and the overall edemitus swelling is down,
so they removed his catheter and bladder probe.
Hallelujah for the bag full of pee!
.
His core temperature seems to be stable,
so they took out the esophageal temperature probe.
.
SO for anyone keeping score, that's two minor tubes down, one major tube to go for the day.
.
He was extubated by a few minutes after 9.
We were so optimistic.
Wonderful Dr. Bennett, who is always cautious, seemed confident.
.
Bronson was alert. Completely off his paralytic and all sedatives.
The extraction was less traumatic than we expected.
We'd been warned it could be awful. Lots of gagging and wheezing.
Scary for parents to watch.
It went smoothly. Slid right out.
These guys here are pros.
How can they NOT be amazing with all of your prayers for them?
.
The first half hour was exciting.
We sat him up and helped to pat his back while he coughed.
Matt and I each held a soft arm restraint from opposite sides of the bed,
to keep his hands away from his face, more importantly his tubes.
.
They first tried a standard oxygen cannula, just the little nose hose with prongs up each nostril.
He was still huffing pretty hard.
We waited patiently, singing Primary songs to him and trying to calm him down.
.
His color began to drain...
Our hearts began to sink...
They knew he needed more supplementation.
.
They changed out the oxygen hose to a High Flow Nasal Cannula.
He was still wheezing.
Working so hard to pull in air.
Panic and worry in his eyes. Looking from Mommy to Daddy and back to the nurses.
Not understanding.
Getting more and more agitated as they suctioned the secretions out of his airways.
.
We tried helplessly to soothe him.
He arched his back and kicked his feet,
struggling to get away from the helpful, but let's be honest, bothersome abuse.
.
Another idea.
A supplemental breathing apparatus called a Bi-Pap.
They program in a certain lung pressure and the machine helps him to maintain it.
They use a face mask with a huge hose that makes him look like a jet plane pilot.
It allows him to breath on his own,
but then calculates the deficit in lung pressure with each breath
and tops off each one with an extra little puff through the mask.
A-Maz-ing. Modern medicine and machinery are miraculous.
But, sadly, little Bronson did not respond quite as we had hoped.
.
They gave him as much time as they dared and chance after chance,
but ultimately, they decided his vitals were too high and he was entering distress.
.
He had to be re-intubated a little after 11:30 this morning.
It was excruciating.
Soooooooo disappointing.
So scary to watch.
So amazing to witness.
I thank God for these physicians.
They have my utmost respect.
They work as a well-oiled machine, not a cog out of place.
I am amazed at the positive energy that each and every one here exudes.
They speak with such kindness, respect and appreciation to one another.
Even amid intense crisis.
They are the calm amid the storm.
I am going to try to emulate that for the rest of my life.
Another life-changing lesson learned.
.
So, I wish I could wrap up today with a nice tidy red bow...
But, frankly, today was discouraging, to say the least.
It felt like three steps forward and two steps back.
Still dancing with his destiny.
.
I went to lunch feeling heavy-hearted.
We were riding this incredible wave of momentum.
Swelling bigger and bigger as all of your prayers come rolling in.
We were beginning to crest the summit.
To feel the wave slowing and come crashing down, felt like such a set back.
.
And then my Matt...
My sweet, sweet Matt pulled a rabbit out of his hat
with his positive spin...
There is no set back.
We are still two tubes ahead of this morning.
And two tubes is two tubes.
Even with out the big one we were hoping for.
We are still moving forward. Onward and upward.
At Heavenly Father's pace. At Bronson's pace.
We just have to be patient enough to ride it out.
.
Yeah. That's my Matt.
My Rock.
I chose well.
I am the luckiest girl in the world.

Ready to extubate...

2010-02-04T08:37:00.004-07:00

Another 4 am Spontaneous Breathing Test came and went perfectly

while Matt and I slept a few hallways away.

This morning the doctors feel confident that he is strong enough to handle extubation!

Wahoo!

Bronson can not WAIT to get that tube out!

Matt can not WAIT to get that tube out!

I can not WAIT to get that tube out!

It is the golden ticket that will land him back into my arms!

I can not WAIT to hold my sweet, beautiful, strong, amazing boy!.

They've just turned down the Precedex...

As soon as he wakes up...

Waking up...

2010-02-04T08:25:00.002-07:00

This morning I woke with strong warm arms around me.

Strong warm arms that had wanted to go home and sleep in their own bed,

but stayed because I needed them.

It was a nice way to wake up.

For about two seconds.

Snuggled against my sweetheart.

And then I realized we were sharing a twin sized bed.

In a dark little sleeping cell.

Far away from home.

And the wave of remembrance washed over me like a wave.

Tangible. Heavy.

The familiar burn returned to my throat.

That lump came back.

Here we are.

This is where we live now.

I lay there letting it all soak in again.

Praying for another good day.

Thanking God again for all of the countless ways that this has been made easier.

The amazing things that are taking place.

The faith that is growing and chasing out the fear.

I sat up.

Wiped the tears from falling.

Took a breath.

Chose to be ready.

Bring it on!

Another chapter of our miracle.

It will be a good day. An amazing day.

I can feel it!

Awestruck...

2010-02-04T00:22:00.004-07:00

It just gets better and better.

He's been wide awake and super alert for the past couple of hours.

The doctors and nurses here are thrilled with his progress.

I am ecstatic!

The Breathing Trial was perfect.

He went without the vent for over two hours and never needed it once.

They will do another trial in the morning

and if it goes well they plan to extubate sometime tomorrow.

Heavenly Father is pouring down blessings upon this little boy

and on all of those who are praying for him.

I am hearing amazing stories...

I have learned that faith heals... Not just the body and mind, but the soul.

Prayer seals hearts together.

Even people who have never met in this life.

Angels walk on earth as well as in heaven.

I see their goodness with fresh eyes.

Thank you all for your strength and testimony...

I am in awe of you!

Holding our breath...

2010-02-03T20:20:00.005-07:00

We are about to start a Spontaneous Breathing Trial

to see if Bronson is ready to extibate fom the ventilator...

He is still intibated with a breathing tube,

but they are turning it off.

{Ahhhh! Scary!}

They will let him take over breathing on his own for an hour to see how strong his lungs are.

If he does well, they will take him off permanently in the morning.

We are holding our breath hoping he doesn't hold his!

Prayers needed!

Pin down...

2010-02-03T18:58:00.003-07:00

We've had a pretty slow day here and a very sleepy little guy

aaaaaalllllll day long... not much action, really.

And then they took him off the Versed...

WOW!

We've got one strong little dude here!

It took Matt and I,

the Respiratory Therapist,

and TWO nurses to hold him down...

Another nurse to turn off all the alarms...

And still another to give him a bolus of sedative!

Let's just say he did NOT want to be suctioned.

It was a total wrestling match!

He put up a DARN good fight!

And am I sorry about that?

Not on your life!

YAY!

Our Little Onion...

2010-02-03T12:45:00.005-07:00

One of our fabulous Nurse Practitioners, Erik,

told us yesterday that recovery from a Post-Arrest Neuro Trauma

is like peeling an onion.

..
When a child is so sick that they are on life support sustaining devices,

you just slowly wean them off of one thing at a time...

Wait...

See how they do...

Then when they are stable, you go onto the next layer and work from there.

We liked analogy that a lot.

It's fragile. It stinks. Sometimes it's surprisingly sweet.

But you really can't forsee what's inside until you get there.

And it's a slow, painful process...

We also decided it's fitting because there are so many tears.

Tears of sorrow.

Tears of worry.

Tears of anguish and regret.

Tears of hope.

Tears of faith.

Tears of comfort.

Tears of gratitude.

Tears of joy.

So Bronson has become our Little Onion.

We still have so many layers left to go...

{Sigh}

But we can only think of one at a time.

This one.

Today, we peeled another layer off our onion.

We finished the Hypothermia Therapy last night

and he has been able to retain a normal body temperature.

They removed the the device we disaffectionately call his "ice blanket"

and he is ever so grateful! He really did NOT like that thing.

But come on, would you?

Because he is less agitated, they were able to lower the dose of his sedative.

He still sleeps unconsciously almost all the time, but reacts a bit more to any stimulation.

His chest Xray this morning shows that his pneumonia is improving.

His right lung shows a small globule of collapse after all,

but does seem to be less dense and improving.

They continue with the lasix (furosemide) to relieve some of his adema,

as he is retaining water. He looks a little less puffy today, overall.

As he warms up, and the circulation to his extremities improves,

his poor little hands and feet are beginning to swell.

Thanks to those of you have sent him stuffed animals

(Jen, Jared & Lisette, Chris & Lisa, Mindy)...

We are using them to prop us his arms and reduce the swelling!

The petichiae on his arm looks a TON better, almost gone in fact.

He is running a little low-grade fever.

His sweet Daddy is diligent in adjusting the cool comfort cloths

we are using across his forehead and chest to draw out the heat.

They've been watching his hermatocrit drop for the last day and a half

and determined this morning that he did indeed need a Blood Transfusion.

Darn. But I guess it is the least of our worries.

It is running now.

We cleaned him up a bit.

I was able to give him a little sponge bath this morning.

I washed off the rest of the blood from the resusitation line attempts.

I wiped the drool and sticky stuff out from the rolls under his chin.

I scraped the crusty boogers out from around his vent hose and nose tubes.

Now that they have taken the EEG scalp electrodes off,

we were able to wash his hair and give him a cute little do!

His faux hawk is a huge hit with all the nurses and staff.

He's stylin' again now!

Awesome day...

2010-02-02T17:57:00.003-07:00

Oh, Friends...

THE BEST NEWS YET!

We are all smiles and joy up here in Room #2314!

Our Neuro Assessment this afternoon was nothing short of miraculous!

I am sure it is due to your prayers of faith.

About three hours after they stopped giving him the paralytic,

they decided to lower his sedation to a half dosage.

It wasn't long before we saw OUR little Bronson emerge from the quiet, lifeless boy

that has been lying in his hospital bed since Saturday.

He came to and made eye contact with both Matt and I. We are sure he recognized us!

He looked around trying to figure out where he was.

He made expressions we recognized.

He looked worried. Confused.

He scowled a little when he was bugged.

He got good and mad at our Nurse, Ian, when he didn't like the stimuli.

He gagged when they stuck the suction tube down his vent tube.

He coughed up some of that nasty mucus in his lungs.

He wriggled away when we squeezed his shoulder.

He pulled his foot away and curled his toes when we pinched the big toe on each of his feet.

He lightly squoze my thumb and reached out to grab it back when I pulled it away.

He cried when they brushed his teeth and cleaned around inside his cheeks and mouth.

He pushed against the vent tube with his tongue trying to get it out.

He raised his arms up by his ears and shook his head

while they scrubbed his head and combed his hair.

He took a few spontaneous breaths, stacked above the breaths the ventilator is making for him.

He put on a darn good show and we were all cheering like crazy!

...Prayers of gratitude tonight!

He was up and at 'em for a couple hours but is back under sedation now,

although they are permanently lowering the dosage in order to allow him to remain semi-conscious.

The hope is to keep him comfortable and allow him to rest and heal,

and prevent him from getting too agitated and grabbing at tubes.

We can't wait to see him again tomorrow!

Warming up...

2010-02-02T13:06:00.004-07:00

They have finished the long 16 hour warming process

and Bronson is now at 36.4 degrees celsius,

and so far he is holding steady at regular body temperature.

They have taken off the top hypothermia blanket.

He is no longer getting a paralytic drip to keep his body medically paralyzed.

They have lowered the dose of sedative by half

to allow him to slowly wake up from his medically induced coma.

I am typing from his bedside and he is just now starting to flutter his eyes

and show reflexive movements, but nothing major yet.

Wait!

Just as I typed that Matt saw fidgeting fingers and a few toe curls!

That is the first of the minor motor skills we have witnessed so far!

We have been advised to wait to really stimulate him until he is more fully awake.

We want to reserve his energy until he is alert enough to show us what he can really do.

We don't want to wear out his muscles before he is conscious.

I am signing off to go hold his little hand and sing.

"Do As I'm Doing" is his favorite! Sing with us!

Let's see what this guy can show us!

Pneumonia update...

2010-02-02T10:25:00.001-07:00

Chest Xray this morning shows the pneumonia in the right lung seems to be improving.

The new attending seems to think that the density looks more like fluid than actual lung collapse,

so they will continue intravenous antibiotics and hope it continues to improve.

Keep your fingers crossed!