Easter

We had a nice Easter just hanging out as a family.

On Friday we went to the Easter Pageant at the Mesa LDS Temple with our good friend Aubrey (who's husband is away training for his awesome new job). It was sooo good, as usual. Chase was a good sport and ran around with Finn most of the time and we were really able to enjoy it. I love how it brings the Bible stories of Christ to life, from his birth to his loving example, and finally to his atonement, death, and ressurection. I am so grateful for my Savior, Jesus Christ. Nothing brings me greater joy and hope in this life than knowing I will be with Him and my family again in the next. It left me in awe of what an amazing, selfless sacrifice he made for each of us.

On Saturday we went to Falcon Field park and had a picnic while watching the airplanes take off and land. Finn loved it! We didn't do anything too Eastery though, like color eggs or make a big basket for Finn... but he did get one big egg with Thomas the Train inside of it! And Grandma Payne made up for our lack of initiative. Let's just say Finn has had way more M&M's since Easter than most three year olds have had in their whole lives. :)

Oh, and Chase and Finn wore matching ties to church on Easter Sunday. BAM, Easter. BAM.

Happiness

"Generally speaking, the most miserable people I know are those who are obsessed with themselves; the happiest people I know are those who lose themselves in the service of others. By and large, I have come to see that if we complain about life, it is because we are thinking only of ourselves." - Gordon B. Hinckley

Such a wise man. 

Dad

The other day I was driving with my mom and we were talking about TV shows or something and then about my dad and that's when it hit me - we need TV to be real. Specifically, the show House. Because Dr. House can solve anything. He can figure out what's wrong with any patient. Even if he can't cure it. I've never realized what a huge comfort it would be in knowing what is wrong with someone, even if there's no easy fix.

Today I went to pick up my mom and run down the road to the Home Depot by my parents house to pick up some paint brushes. When we got back, we found my dad laying face first on the floor, completely passed out. To say I was completely freaked out, sadly, would not be 100% true since this has happened so many times before. I guess I'm getting used to it. Or numb to it. So here's the problem, Dr. House:

There's something really, really wrong with my dad and no one can figure out what it is.

I think the hardest part is not knowing. Okay, no. The hardest part is standing next to my dad in an ER room after he was admitted for the 3rd time in two weeks after having seizure-like symptoms, holding his hand and seeing him suddenly realize who I am, and watching as tears fall down his shaking face - a face that breaks my heart over and over again whenever I think about it, because all I can see is my sweet, caring, amazingly strong dad who is at that moment completely terrified about what is happening to him. And then the nurse comes in, making me feel like I should leave and start to move away, but my dad just holds desperately on to my fingers because he's afraid and he doesn't want to be alone.

These are my wonderful parents. I just took this photo this past New Year's. 

Growing up, my dad was my hero and has been ever since. But not for all your normal hero-defining reasons, like because he could fix everything (which he probably could) or because he was super smart and strong (which he definitely was) but because he taught me, more than anything or anyone in my entire life, what it means to love. 

And he taught everyone around him the same thing. He is respected and admired by everyone who has known him. In fact, several months ago he received a letter from a co-worker of his who wrote to tell him how much he had been touched by knowing him and that he and his wife had named their newborn son Miles, after my dad. He is that type of person - so selfless, kind, charitable and loving that you would hope and pray with all your might that your child would grow up to be like him and live up to his name.

About 3 years ago, he started forgetting things. Short-term things and not super often. And he started to get really depressed. He decided to take a disability leave from work to try and figure out what was going on. Then slowly over those few years, things have gotten worse and worse. Yet everything has been so abnormal and inconsistent. A few months ago was one of the worst times. He was severely depressed, sleeping a lot, waking up confused not knowing what day it was and what had happened the day before - or the week before. Sometimes his personality would change a lot and he acted very silly and loud in public and saying things he would never say (which if you know my dad, you know he is shy and quiet around most people). He started falling a lot and cutting his ear and chin and arm on things (hence multiple ER visits to get stitched up). He woke up one day not able to see out of one eye and feeling numb and tingly over half his body. My mom took him to the ER again... and they sent him home, again.

He's been to two neurologists and both of them say they have run every test they can think of, many of them twice. 

For the past month, he has been much more alert and himself personality-wise. But he sleeps nearly all day and has to use a walker full-time because he is so shaky and has a lot of dizzy spells where he will pass out if he doesn't sit down. Sometimes we've gone over to help him when he's fallen and he literally cannot move a muscle no matter how hard he tries. If he walks around the house a bit it completely wipes him out and he has to lay down again. And he never knows what day it is. He forgets what happened if it was more than two days before.

Obviously, it's really hard on my self-proclaimed naturally impatient mom who has been so strong and supportive through everything. She just doesn't give up on him and is always encouraging him to keep trying. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to see my best friend go through so much, never knowing what they'll remember...

Anyway, I don't really know why I wrote this post. Maybe partly on the slight chance that anyone out there reading it can help lead us to the magical diagnosis that - if it doesn't fix everything - will at least help us know how to deal with it. It is getting worse and every stage seems to be something almost completely new... we just never know what will happen next. 

A few days ago, though, Chase shared something that I thought was a powerful revelation. In church on Sunday they talked about how many of the early Mormon pioneers crossing the plains in the winter were starving and had run out of food. At one point they resorted to eating leather hides because that was literally all they had left. So they prayed that God would make it so their stomachs would digest the hides. They didn't pray for a bison to walk past them or bread to suddenly appear before them. They accepted the situation they were in and asked only to be able to bear it and to make it through. I keep praying and hoping and asking that my dad's doctors will just be able to find out what's wrong, that they'll magically remember some rare test to try next. But Chase taught me that maybe what we all need to be praying for is just to be comforted and have the strength we need to get through whatever trial we are facing. 

So Dr. House, if you do feel like filling us in on what is going on, we would really appreciate it. But if you just can't figure it out, it's okay. We will be okay. My dad will be okay. Even if okay means just knowing he is loved and cared for and will never, ever be alone.

A little update...

I don't know where to start, but I'm updating my blog so that's a big step anyway.

My birthday was in February and my mother and father-in-law came down to visit us. It was so much fun and so nice to have them here. They are such amazingly giving, selfless people. And they're funny. And they're caring. And my mother-in-law is adorable and dresses cuter than I do. Basically, I have the best in-law's in the world. They make even strangers want to be around them.

We went to the zoo while they were here and ate lots of yummy food and we even got my father-in-law to play cards (he HATES games) and he kicked our trash. :)

For my birthday Chase got me a new straightener to replace the one I have had since Jr. High. And my in-laws got me a new lens for our camera! Well, in a round-about way they did. I'm still learning to use it but I love it already. I just love that we can take photos inside now without having to use flash!

In other news, Finn got a big boy haircut. He really likes haircuts. Almost as much as getting shots.

He was quite thrilled.

And I think this next photo may be my favorite picture ever so far. Or at least it makes me melt every time I see it. :)

This little boy is really a toddler now. He's doing so many new things every day!

• He dances as well as his mama: he bends his knees and pops his bum up and down to the beat of whatever song is playing, but his torso and arms just stay completely straight and don't move. It's hilarious.
• It's so fun to see him actually understanding things: he knows dog and loves to say "DAH!" whenever we see a dog or hear one bark. He knows duck, or "DECK!" and when you say drink, he runs to the fridge. When you say let's go outside, he runs to the door. When you say bath, he runs to the bathroom. When you say shoes, he grabs them and brings them to you. It's fun. :)
• He loves his blanket. Anytime he's in his room and I hear him start to cry, sure enough when I go in there he's frustrated to tears that he can't pull his blanket through the slats of his crib. When I get it for him he immediately puts it to his face and collapses onto the floor with it.
• He is always getting hurt. Scrapes turn into huge scabs no matter how little damage is done. Poor buddy. But you can't keep this kid down. He will not sit on your lap unless he's really ridiculously tired. At church he is the most active kid in our ward. 
• He really is crazy, but he's also charming and knows how to get people to smile. That's what I love most about him - he seems to know just how to cheer people up. A lady in our ward came up to me at the end of church and said that her teenage son had been having such a bad morning and was so grumpy until the sat behind us and Finn grinned at him. She said it was the first time he smiled all day. I love that even though Finn is so active to the point of driving us nuts, he's so sweet and just wants everyone to smile and be happy. I hope that he stays that way forever.

Why did the duck go to jail? Because he was a quack dealer.

They had him at last. Years and years of long, strenuous surveillance and hard work finally found its prize. And there he was, cuffed and turned so he was viewed in profile. His good side. There was something about him that demanded… not respect, but something similar. It demanded that you reached out your fingers and tickled him. Or told him a clever joke to try and get those mischievous beady eyes to glimmer. 

Even the fellow taking his picture had to resist the urge to tackle him to the ground and give him a good wet willy.  The chains at his feet clung to his ankles as he turned to face the camera for a frontal shot. “Stripes aren’t my style, eh?” he murmured to the photographer, chuckling slightly at his own lack of creativity. The photographer eyed him without a change in expression, still wondering how unprofessional it would be to start a tickle fight with the inmate. Deciding it wouldn’t bode well with the boss, he concentrated on taking the mug shot. “So, uh, what’re you in for?” he asked, trying to sound casual. SNAP. He took another picture. Blinking the dizziness out of his eyes, the inmate was thoughtful for a moment. “It’s a long story son. I’d tell you I’m innocent, but look at me—we both know what I am. There is no denying it. I’m as guilty as the day I was hatched! I… I…. I’M A QUACK DEALER!” and with that the inmate let out one loud, enormous quack. Immediately doors swung open and dozens of officers and guards flooded into the room. 

Feathers flew up in the air as the duck was tackled to the ground. One officer jumped onto the photographer and slammed him to the floor. “Don’t worry, you’ll be alright!” he yelled over the quacks now resonating through the small room. QUACK QUACK QUACK. The duck was in a frenzy! The officers, finally pinning him down, looked like they had just had the pillow fight of their lives. “What are we gonna do?! This quack dealer is out of control,” shouted one young officer, clearly a rookie. “Wait!” the photographer cried. “I know what to do.” Everyone stared at him, even the duck, although he continued quacking ridiculously loud. The photographer rolled the slightly overweight cop off of himself and stood up, cracking his fingers menacingly at the duck. “Time to break out the fluffy fingers,” he murmured under his breath, his eyebrows arching with excitement. Secretly, he was ecstatic that he now had a valid excuse to tickle the duck. The other officers looked on in envy as he got ready to unleash his fingers. Who could resist tickling a cute little duck after all? The photographer began gently and then went into a full assault, causing the duck’s quacks to sputter and transform into laughs of glee. Suddenly, all the officers forgot their roles of honor and civic duty and began tickling the duck as well. 

As the laughter subsided, they all lay there smiling and content. The duck let out a few chuckles every few seconds, but no quacks came out of his beak. Then the dean of the prison walked through the half-open door to see the scene of feathers and officers sprawled out on the floor. In horror, he pointed dramatically at the grinning duck and shouted, “Duck, you’ve dealt your last quack!!”

Mustache Thank You Postcards

I sent out thank you postcards for Finn's mustache birthday party (even though we said no gifts, thanks to those who did, so sweet of you!) and to make them a little more personal I took photos of him playing with each toy he received. Just printed on some card stock on our computer and then on the back I wrote out a message and put the address and stamp. He didn't really want to smile in any of the pictures though - he has a really hard time doing anything but trying to eat rocks when we go outside. :)

P.S. If anyone reading this gave him a toy camera, let me know. Funnily enough, not one gift he received had a tag on it, so I'm trying to track you down, gift-giver!

One Year

Finn is ONE! Like, officially mama's-weeping-in-the-corner-and-silently-sobbing one. And what new things come with being a big-boy one year old? Well let me tell you:

• He is almost to the point of mastering throwing tantrums. He's just not quite there though. By that I mean that when he throws a tantrum I just crack up laughing at him because it's cute. Annnd I'm sure that will last another day or two.
• He is super clingy to me, which I kind of love because my non-huggy baby is suddenly a cuddle bug now.
• He is eating 100% table foods, mostly consisting of yogurt, berries, cheesy eggs, cheese sticks, cheese crackers, peas, mac & cheese, and lots of pasta.
• We just had his one year check-up and he is the 50th percentile for height and 10th for weight. My little boy is a whopping 20 lbs exactly.
• His red hair is growing out!! We are so sad about this (cue me sobbing in the corner again) but the hair coming in underneath is a lovely golden blond. So he'll still be a heart throb and I'm sure he'll have a red beard like his papa. See how I'm consoling myself here?
• He has had a total of 7 hair cuts since birth, his last being a fantastic bowl cut, due to him screaming uncontrollably every time the scissors came near him.
• We are realizing more and more what a performer and a charmer he is. He will stop at nothing until he gets any human in a 20 yard radius to smile at him. And when he has more than one person watching, he runs around like a giggling maniac.
• He finally learned to clap and give high fives! But he's not very generous with them. He'd rather run up to you and dangle his fingers JUST over your hand and then run away laughing, hoping you'll chase him down for a proper high five.

I'm sure I could go on and on... I'm trying to blog more often so that I don't forget the sweet/funny/crazy things he does all the time. He makes life so fun and - even though he's such a handful - surprisingly easy.

And also, I feel bad adding this in at the end, but the Chaser had his birthday a couple of weeks ago! He is 26 now! An old man. Finn and I surprised him at work the day before his birthday with a candy bouquet and a plate of cookies - complete with a Ron Swanson card and Tom Haveford's head saying "TREAT YO' SELF!" Because that's just what you gotta do.

Happy Birthday Chase! You are such a perfect husband and father - you make Finn and I want to be better each and every day. Love you!