ZZZPC, Velvet

Note: It's been a while since I started this post. I just came to a point where I felt I wasn't doing it justice. Then I didn't feel I could re-visit it. I still don't feel I did it justice. The emotions of that day were too strong, and my words too weak. However, what happened that day and the love and support shown to us is part of the miracle of the day, so I've done my best . . . originally posted 10/21/13, now re-dating to make posts chronological.

Gary beat the life flight to the hospital. I'd like him to tell what he went through in his words, but I'll improvise for now. A friend of mine called him from the scene and told him Lissy had been hit by a car, and that he should meet the life flight at Primary Children's. Gary usually rides the bus to work, but happened to have driven that day because we'd stayed up so late the night before folding laundry. He drove to the hospital praying all the way that her face hadn't been run over. When he got there, he was given a white sticker to put on with a large ZZZ printed on it, which means he was the parent of a trauma victim, and told to wait for a social worker to come get him. Two social workers took him into a hallway by the trauma bay in the E.R. where they could watch screens that showed the life flight landing. Gary listened to a team of doctors and nurses (he estimated about 12 people) preparing to care for Lissy when she came in. They were preparing for something pretty terrible. The life flight landed, the stretcher came off, and at long last Gary saw Elisabeth's face on the screen. She was looking all around, as if trying to assess her surroundings. Relief. After Lissy's airway, breathing, and circulation were declared stable, Gary was allowed into the trauma bay. As soon as Lissy was aware Gary was nearby, she gripped his finger, and Gary stood by listening to the injuries as they became known.

When I walked into the E.R. I was told to wait for a social worker to escort me to Lissy. One of my best friends was waiting there in the lobby, and said someone had come out and said she'd be okay. That was a tremendous relief, but I was still very anxious to see her. When the social workers arrived, they said Lissy had just been transferred to the ICU, and I followed the familiar path there. I couldn't believe I was at the ICU again - for the same child. When I first walked into the room, my view of Lissy was blocked by medical personnel, who began telling me about all of the positive signs they saw with her. The head trauma doctor said, "Everything we scanned had an injury, but none of it bad enough for immediate surgery." The run-down of the injuries:
-"pretty significant" skull fracture (sutures on occipital part of skull exploded when van went over her)
- a small brain bleed in the occipital area
- a whole lot of bruising to her right lung
- a small pneumothorax (hole in her lung)
- a liver laceration
- vein to her liver messed up
- one definite rib fracture, one suspected
- 2 pelvic fractures and 1 fracture around the tail bone area
- abrasions and bruising all over her back, face, and back of head; various scrapes
In the words of one of the trauma nurse practitioners, "All things considered, she is a very lucky girl."

When I saw her, incredible sadness and guilt washed over me. My baby - I let her get run over by a van. I couldn't pick her up, I couldn't hold her, all I could do was stroke the skin that wasn't covered by medical equipment. The pillow and blankets underneath her were bloody, and at one point a nurse moved her blanket and a chunk of hair fell out. Poor baby wasn't allowed to have any pain medication because they can slow neural and lung function, and since she wasn't doing well in those areas, they couldn't risk it.

Pictures can't really express what it was like to see her that day, but I'm so grateful to my sisters for taking some so we can all see how far she's come.

I didn't know these pictures were being taken, but oh, I love my baby! She looks so big in so many of the pictures, it's interesting to see a picture with a comparison to an adult.

I don't remember things clearly for the next several hours. Doctors were in and out, we asked a lot of questions, and after a while I started to feel okay about how Lissy was doing, considering. Some friends told me I should eat - I didn't really want to, I wasn't hungry. They said I wouldn't be hungry, but I had to eat, anyway, they insisted. Eating actually felt pretty good, and talking to friends outside of the ICU was helpful. While I was eating a sweet college roommate and good friend showed up- when she heard she came right away, stopping to buy Zupas for me. She felt bad I was already eating, but that food helped me through a few meals, and the show of support was unreal. I felt so much love, I didn't know how to repay or thank everyone, but I knew it was keeping me going.

When I arrived back at Lissy's bedside, my sisters Cindy and Kristen were there. Oh, so good to see them! Cindy was flipping through the chart and said, "She's got a lot of pretty bad injuries." Don't know why, but it felt good to see somebody that loves Lissy looking at the chart. After we spent some time with Lissy, we decided to get Kristen some food and our cell phones a charge, and went upstairs to the Ronald McDonald family room. (It's new and I LOOOVE it!) Maybe it was suddenly being in a calm room with a beautiful view that contrasted with the ICU, maybe it was being with my sisters, I don't know, but suddenly I thought of my crushed-up little girl, replayed the accident in my mind, and just couldn't take it. "I should have done something to stop it!" I sobbed. "I let a van run over my baby. I should have stopped the van. I should have thrown myself under the car so it would get me instead of her. I should have protected her. I let a van run over my sweet, innocent baby." My sisters offered words of comfort, but the grief and guilt filled my whole soul as sobs racked my body. It was the first time that day I cried that I knew of, and I lost it. My sister grabbed some kleenex and put her arm around me as I settled into a chair overlooking the valley. The emotions hurt, but it felt cathartic to let them out. After a few moments my mind started to yield to the comfort of my sister's logic, and I was calm again. I did not cry again that day at all.

The rest of the day flows in and out - Lissy was doing well enough to be moved from 1 to 1 care to 1 to 2 care, and so many amazing friends and family members came bringing their love that buoyed us up. Gary's parents were there as soon as they could be there (from St. George), Eric, Holly, Allison, Dallin, Martha, Dereck, Jessica . . . so many family members, fearing for their sweet little Elisabeth, came and saw that although she was broken, she was very much still there. My friend Julie came with stuff for me to take a shower - something that I didn't want to take the time to do at first, but found that the hot water was just the thing to soothe my burdens. She also came with the news that my other kids were hanging in there, and that Noah seemed to know spiritually that Lissy would be okay. Julie had also managed to find both Lissy's stuffed unicorn and favorite stuffed doll Ya-Ya (she named her), and she immediately curled one under each arm.

Dinner with Gary's family temporarily removed us from the situation and calmed me. I couldn't escape the nagging feeling that Gary was/should be mad at me. I was supposed to be protecting his children, and I failed. He nearly lost his daughter. I knew it was silly, but as we walked into dinner, I confided this to Gary, and he blew it off as ridiculous, grabbed my hand, and walked side-by-side with me into the restaurant.

At one point during the day I looked at Lissy's name tag attached to her crib, and saw that it read, "ZZZPC, Velvet." What? Apparently all traumas coming into Primarys via life flight are coded with ZZZ, and PC is for Primary Childrens. The kids are then assigned a trauma name, because they often don't know their names. Lissy's was Velvet. I was highly amused by that, and for the length of our stay, she was listed as Velvet. Made me smile.

At the end of the day, after we gave the last of the well-wishers tight hugs, Gary went home to be with our boys and I found myself curling up on a vinyl bed-thing next to Lissy's crib. Looking at her still brought a sick, sinking feeling to my chest, and I struggled with my inability to take away her pain, but all of the monitors reassured - she was breathing, her heart was beating, and she was resting. I knew I should try to do the same.

Broken

Just saw a video where Lissy is walking. She's only been broken for less than two weeks, yet it seems so long ago that she was able to get around.

(I never finished this post, but it's a mirror into my mind at the time, so I'll tuck it in amidst the rest. She was so helpless for a while, like a little china doll. I had no idea it would turn around so quickly.)

Miracles

Originally posted 9/20/2013, re-dated now to make posts fit chronologically.

If you missed what happened, read The Accident.

Our 27 pound toddler was run over by a 4,000 pound mini-van. It went across her abdomen, chest, and head. Every vital organ. And she is alive! It makes me sick just to read that first sentence, but I feel that to thank God for this miracle, I need to testify of His power, because I have seen it. I know that every story like this does not have this outcome, and I wrestle with that fact. However, Lissy apparently has reasons why her earthly mission is not yet finished, and her experience is a testimony to the fact that miracles have not ceased, and that God has the power to accomplish his purposes, no matter how impossible things may seem. Also, I know that regardless of outcome, the Lord provides miracles and tender mercies to his children who suffer.

I have abbreviated the names and called people by titles in case they don't want their names published. I did my best to write things down as I have heard them. If you know of any inaccuracies, or any additional miracles (people have told me there were so many!), let me know. I'd love to include them.

L. was getting in his car to pick up his father from the airport, but had a strong impression that he needed to stay in his car, and not leave yet. He didn't know why, but I've been told he sat there for around five minutes, trying to figure out why he felt so strongly he shouldn't go. A police vehicle went speeding past him with lights and sirens, and he thought, "I'm supposed to follow." So he did, and when he could drive no more, he parked and ran up to see me sitting in a driveway, with my bloodied and limp little Lissy in my lap. He was the one who got there just at the right time to give her a blessing. I heard later that he was worried about her breathing when he first arrived, but after the blessing her breathing seemed to even out a little. After that he had to pick up and move on to get up his father, but the image of what he had seen caused him to weep the whole way to the airport.

B. didn't have to be to work until 2 p.m., so he and his wife has planned a trip to Costco first thing in the morning. However, he kept feeling like he needed to delay the trip, so he kept finding another thing to do before they would leave. When the emergency sirens came to his neighborhood, he was still at home, and was the one who, with another brother assisting, gave me the blessing that brought me comfort throughout the whole day. Also, his wife came to the hospital with me, and kept everyone's spirits up in the car. Later, he came up to the hospital and assisted Gary in giving Lissy another blessing of healing, this time by her father and using oil.

J. had a feeling she should have her kids go to their baby-sitter, even though she didn't have to work that day. She wondered why, but before she could really get a start to her day, she heard emergency sirens in her neighborhood. She tried to call the bishop's wife, but no answer. J. felt that she needed to walk toward the sirens to see if she could help. As soon as she saw the bishop's wife standing there with her baby, she knew she had come to take the baby so the bishop's wife could be with me. I don't remember when the baby left, I just knew that when I worried about where her kids would go, the bishop's wife said they were taken care of. J. couldn't have run to the scene of the accident if her kids were home.

From the friend at whose house it occurred:
I am glad you had the chance to write this all down. It brought me to tears, again. I am so glad it had the out come that it did. God sent many blessings that day. Another one I noted is that it rained several times that day, long and hard. All remnants of the accident were washed away. The throw up, tire tracks, and hair were gone. The heavens wept for the situation and scared a few reporter off. So many miracles occurred. Our Heavenly Father was ever present because he knew Lissy needed to stay here. He knew miracles would occur that would strengthen testimonies, unite people, and help people to always have a desire to follow the promptings of the Holy Ghost.

The team of doctors and nurses that assembled in the trauma bay were prepared for far worse than arrived at the hospital. Even so, for the first 2 hours they were very concerned (I found out later). The medical staff I talked to that were either there or talked to someone who was there when Lissy came off the life flight take a deep breath,  and shake their heads, as if in disbelief or shaking out a bad memory. The nurse practitioner who discharged her was blown away by the contrast between what had happened to Lissy and the state she was when she was discharged. The nurse in the ICU when she first arrived said that after a while, he put a lot of the equipment away they had planned to use. He said when they hear a child has been rolled over, they usually see much, much worse. Nobody could really explain to me why it wasn't worse, like they expected. I said to one doctor, "How does she have that distinct of tire tracks on her face and not a crushed skull?" He shook his head, was quiet for a few moments, then said, "Skulls are hard." . . . Then a moment later, "A great deal of luck." We were both quiet. He finally said, "Find the explanation that works for you, and go with that."

Noah met with a child life counselor at Primarys to try to work through some of the emotions he was feeling about the whole thing. Poor kid, I worried so much about what he experienced the day of the accident. Gary and I were in there with the counselor, too. She didn't get far at first, but after a while, he started to open up. We learned that Lissy didn't actually fall out of the vehicle, she climbed out when the car started moving. Another witness confirmed Noah's story later by saying that she actually saw Lissy standing there before she was knocked under the vehicle. At one point during the counseling session Noah said, "I tried to stop the car. I pulled out the key, and that didn't work, so I got down and pressed the stop pedal." Later, witnesses told me that when the car went down into the gutter at the end of the driveway, it started rolling back up, and came very close to going back over Lissy's head, but instead it stopped. I believe Noah had assistance with knowing which one was the "stop pedal."

After Noah had talked with the counselor a while, he needed to go to the bathroom, so Gary took him. While they were gone, I remarked to the counselor, "Well, if Noah was pressing the brake, maybe the car went over her slowly, and that explains why she wasn't hurt more severely?" The counselor looked at me and replied, "Either that, or some other very special things happened." It was like a shot of electricity went through me, and I knew she was right.

This is the part that is hard to explain - my spirit experienced something different than my physical body did at the scene of the accident. The medical world calls it shock. I know it's Heavenly Father's way of helping us to bear things we otherwise could not. I felt deep concern and anxiety, however, I did not feel the anguish and terror that usually accompanies thoughts of terrible things happening to my children. They say I screamed. They say lots of people were screaming. They say I cried. I didn't hear any screaming or crying from anyone, including myself. The whole scene was very quiet and calm from my view. I heard my friend saying on the phone, "A little girl has been run over by a car," and saying the address. I heard my other friend coaching and comforting me from the side. I heard almost nothing else. However, the friend who called 911 was told by dispatch, "I need you to step away from the scene, I can't hear you because of the screaming." Even other people's description of things doesn't jog a memory. I really did not hear it.

The interesting part of the accident - I was standing beside the vehicle when I saw Lissy underneath the car. When the car finished rolling, I was below Lissy in the driveway. I watched the car roll over Lissy, but I watched the car from head-on as it went backward, wondering what was happening to her. From where I was standing at the beginning and end, I should have seen every awful moment, but I didn't. I don't understand how that is possible, but I know that's what I saw. I don't remember it, but I told the friend that drove me to the hospital that I didn't see Lissy get rolled over, when I did. I don't know why I said that, besides that I did not see what I should have seen. All I know is I was right there, and that I remember what I was thinking as it was going over her (I can't stop the car now, because it's on top of her body, and that would be worse. I wonder if she can survive that?), and the image is not as graphic as it should be. This is a tender mercy I will be grateful for my whole life.

I marveled over and over while Lissy was at the hospital at how Heavenly Father has designed us. Mostly, Lissy's body is healing itself, and what doctors have done is provide support. They gave her high levels of oxygen support so that her bruised and punctured lungs wouldn't have to work very much while they healed themselves. They held her still while her brain and skull began to heal. They gave her hydration while she was unable to eat or drink by herself. They gave her plasma and blood while her body was dealing with a bleeding liver. We were told not to let her move while her bones healed. Our Father in Heaven has designed us to heal - it's incredible!

The Accident

Note: In order to acknowledge the hand of God, I feel it is important to write down what has happened. Other parts of the story will follow. (Originally posted 9/15/13, now re-dated to make posts fit chronologically)

I parked my mini-van in the barely-sloped driveway of my friend's house where preschool would be held that day. I was dropping off Andrew, but I also had a handful of things to give to my friend. I was explaining the various items, so Noah got out of the car and brought Lissy with him. When we went back outside, Noah hopped in the driver's side door, and Lissy climbed up after him. She looked at me and grinned. "Drive, drive," she said. I looked around to see if anybody else saw how cute that was, and then reached out to grab her and put her in her car seat.

Right as I went to grab Lissy, I saw another little family approaching preschool, with two little ones in a stroller. Their preschooler was saying he didn't want to go to preschool, and since I taught last week, I thought I would say a few words to comfort him. I took two steps away from Lissy, and, still right beside my vehicle, knelt down to talk to the boy. "You are going to have so much fun in preschool! I saw you smiling and laughing when we were singing songs and . . ." I was mid-sentence, and suddenly I saw a horrified look on the other mother's face and noticed that my van was rolling. My first thought was that their little 20-month old girl was going to be killed, so I tried to get those kids out of the way and/or stop the van. I have no idea what kind of assistance I was with that, but I remember feeling like those kids were safe, when all of the sudden I saw pink out of the corner of my eye. Lissy was under the van! I thought she'd already been run over (which turns out to not be true), and I wanted to save her from being run over again. I couldn't get to her, so I tried to stop the van. It wasn't working, and it started rolling over Lissy. I knew then that even if I could stop the van, I didn't want to while it was on top of Lissy, so I had to watch it roll over her. It felt like it took a very long time, as I sat there and waited to be able to see what had happened to her. After the van cleared her, I reached down towards her, but she did a little skid, and a large chunk of her hair was scraped into the road. I thought the back of her head had been scraped off and wondered if that had killed her.

This was all very quiet and slow to me. I have been told later that I was screaming, several others were screaming, and that it all happened in two blinks. One witness said, " . . .but the car was moving so fast . . ." I didn't hear any sounds at all.

My first thought was, "See if she's alive." I saw that her eyes were opened and she was covered in vomit, but   I didn't know what that meant. She started to cry, and I took that to be a good sign, and knelt down beside her, yelling, "Call 911, call 911!" (Why do you sound so hysterical, Emily? My calm inner voice asked.) I heard the call being made, and wanted to pick Lissy up, but knew I could injure her further by doing so. A friend who witnessed the whole thing stood beside me and soothingly coached me. "You're right, don't touch her," she said. I stroked Lissy's cheek, and felt so helpless watching her writhe on the driveway. I knelt down to pray, but the words wouldn't really come out. I sat beside Lissy thinking, "I know you're not supposed to touch accident victims, but if she's dying right now, I need to hold her. I need to hold her during her last few minutes." As I was anguishing over that decision, Lissy rolled over and tried to get up. She only got to her knees before she cried out in pain, and I heard my friend say, "Okay, hold her tight." That was one of the many tender mercies, I got to hold her. I remember thinking, "Why aren't I crying about this?" However, I have been told later that I actually was crying. One friend says the image of me crying while softly rocking Lissy in my arms was the most haunting image of the accident.

I wanted the ambulance there NOW, but it seemed like it was taking forever to get there. I knew Lissy had a chance to live since she was crying, but I also knew she could be hemorrhaging on the inside, and every cry could be her last. She just looked so limp and broken. One side of her face was completely red, and there was a distinct tire track down her face, so I knew her skull and brain had been run over. She looked so pale, and her lips were purple . . . why aren't they here now?! I kept thinking. A friend kept rubbing my back and saying, "She's crying, this is a good sign," and other comforting things. I heard sirens, and hope welled up, but when the car showed up it was from the Sheriff's department. No! I thought. Only the ambulance can save her. I have been told I said that to him in some form, but I was nice about it. As the sheriff knelt down beside her, he said into his radio, almost immediately, "We need a birdie in the sky." That brought me a small measure of relief - they weren't going to mess around, they were going to fly her straight to Primarys.

Lissy needed a priesthood blessing right away, I knew, but as I looked around the circle of onlookers, it was only women. I asked the bishop's wife if her husband was home, knowing the answer would be no before I asked. Suddenly, a man from our ward came running around the corner. The second I caught sight of him I asked him to give Lissy a blessing, and he came right to my side and did so. I don't remember anything about it, besides that she was blessed to recover, and when that was said, something at the back of my head told me thing would work out. I tried to cling to that inside, but my body kept reacting to the scene before me.

After what seemed to be the longest wait of my life, the ambulance and crew showed up. They took Lissy, and told me to sit in the driver's seat of my van. I sat down and knew I had to something to help my baby if she was going to make it off the life flight. Prayers - she needed as many as possible, right now. I picked up my phone and trembled out a text to the last 40 people I'd texted (the max it would let me). "Pray your hardest ever. Lissy has been run over by our van. Flying to Primarys." I felt the prayers almost immediately. Later, I heard stories of people's horrified feelings and immediate prayers. My brother-in-law was at work, and immediately got up, shut the door to his office, and dropped to his knees.

The next part is more of a blur than the other. A friend was telling me I needed a blessing, but I thought I was fine and just wanted to do something for Lissy. Later, I was told I was completely white, the comparison was made to a white hospital wall. The police were asking me questions, and I was doing my best to sound composed. The first question was my address, and I heard somebody say, "I don't know if she knows right now." I took a deep breath. I could tell them my address. And Lissy's name, birthdate, and approximate weight. Then, a piece of paper was put in front of my face. "I know this is a hard time, but we need a statement from you." I shakily started writing, "baby was in the driver's seat . . ." "I can't do this," I said. "Can somebody else do this?" The paper was taken away from me, and later I found out that a friend tried her best to write as I frantically walked back and forth trying to describe what happened. I guess I said I put Lissy in the driver's seat, which is why the news reported that later. It doesn't make much of a difference, but I definitely know she climbed herself, because I remember specifically the part where I looked around to  see if anybody else had noticed what a cute stinker she was.

The police were recommending that someone else drive me to Salt Lake. I didn't feel incapable of driving (although I obviously was), but a friend immediately said she was driving me. Her kids were already taken care of. The police then tried to ask me what my plans were for my other kids. I looked at the crowd of onlookers, and knew that any one of them would take care of my boys for the day, and they would work it out amongst themselves, I didn't even have to ask. So, I said, "They're taken care of." I think the police thought I was talking out of my shock-induced state. They asked again, what plans needed to be made for my other children. I just pointed at the circle of wonderful people and said again, "They're taken care of." What an amazing feeling it was to be able to do that with confidence. What an amazing neighborhood.

As my friend led me away from the scene, I looked back at where Lissy had been before she was put on the ambulance, and I saw her pink shirt, cut down the middle, lying on the ground. A little below that were several large chunks of her hair. That was the closest I came to crying (or knowing I was crying), when I saw that.

I was led into a house, where two brethren were prepared to give me a blessing. I was blessed that I wouldn't feel guilt or responsibility about the accident, which at the time I didn't think a lot of, but became a huge issue just a few hours later. I could always look back on that blessing when searching for comfort. One of the sisters gave me a hug before I got in the car, and it was so comforting, I went for another one. By the time I was in a car heading out of the neighborhood, it was just in time to watch the Life Flight helicopter lift into the sky, turn around, and head towards Salt Lake with my baby. I stuck my head out the window and asked the EMTs still on the scene if she was still conscious. She was.

I had to stop at my house to grab my I.D. and a bra (let that be a lesson to you all), but I couldn't leave town without letting Noah know I loved him. I knew he'd seen the whole thing, and that he is smart enough to know what made the car go. We'd seen after the ambulance arrived that Noah had put the keys in the ignition (didn't start the engine), and put the van in neutral, which is what made it roll. Our van is apparently one model year too old to have the safety feature where you have to press on the brake to shift. At one point before the ambulance arrived and I was cradling Lissy on my lap, I suddenly noticed Noah behind my shoulder. I scolded him for messing with the car, then immediately felt bad and kissed his cheek, telling him what a good boy he is. However, as he walked away from the scene with friends, he held his head down, dejectedly. So, on my way out of town, I stopped to love my Noah. I hugged and kissed him and told him I loved him. He didn't say a single word to me, but my teary friend who had him at her house reassured me he would be doing fun things, so I gave him one last squeeze and left.

I see how long this is, and want to go back and write more about the accident and the moments before the ambulance came - those are the moments that seemed like forever. Those are the images that replay over and over in my head. How do I fully capture what it was to hold my bloodied and broken little girl, or to describe the intense need I felt to get her care that could save her? How do I express what it was to wonder if this was the last I'd be with her on earth? I've hardly been able to cry about this accident, but right now I can hardly breathe. After her blessing I felt that Lissy would recover, but . . . but everything. The things my mind worried about and what I had seen and experienced were still human. As we drove to Salt Lake, I remember joking about silly stories where we forgot to wear a bra, and also talking to my mom and Gary's mom. I didn't feel jittery inside. However, I have been told it's good that I don't remember the ride to Primarys because I'd periodically mention something like life flights often crash. I tried to get a hold of Gary right before we got to the hospital so I'd know what to expect when I got inside, but no answer. So, I just walked inside and said, "My daughter just came in on Life Flight."

Disclaimer: Not her life flight, a picture of another red life flight helicopter, taken from tmcnews.org.

Read the next part, Miracles.

When Lissy Got Sick. Really, Really Sick.

Note: This is not about our current situation. This was a year and a half ago. I haven't had internet access except these few moments, and spend most of my time comforting an extremely miserable little girl right now, but I do spend a lot of time thinking about the magnitude of the blessings I've seen lately. I wrote this a while back and never posted because I never finished subsequent posts. So, I'll post it now, and re-date it later. I just wanted to show - miracles happen, they happen constantly, and although hard things happen, we are supported in all our trials.

By the way - in the last few minutes I have seen messages of hope, faith, prayer, and love directed at our family. I can't comprehend it, it's so amazing. Although I am weary, I am beyond grateful. Ok, enough stealing time in the Ronald McDonald family room, back to take care of the babe! I hope one day I will be able to document it all for Lissy to see what a special girl she is, how great is the goodness of God, and how wonderful the world is.

2/27/12

I don't know if it's possible to fully realize the incredible miracle of snuggling your sweet baby girl to sleep until you haven't been able to for two weeks. Or to treasure a smile and a giggle so much until you wondered if you would ever see it again. I have always loved and enjoyed Elisabeth, but now I am in absolute awe of her, and how amazing it is to kiss her cheek without a mask in the way, or to pick her up and not have her be on a short leash of tubes and wires. Her poor hands and feet have  bruises from the many I.V. sites, and neither one of us yet feels healthy, but here she is, breathing on her own, in our house, in my arms. Just eleven pounds of baby girl all snuggled up in pink fleece jammies, the answer to eleven million prayers. Thank you, Father. Thank you.
(I was bawling when I wrote this. Things were so crazy I didn't have time to write any more, but my heart was very, very full.)

3/25/12

In some ways I say, "All's well that ends well," regarding having Lissy in the hospital last month. And while that's true, I know that I went through so many experiences during that time that made me feel like I'd learned so much, that I don't know how well it ends if I don't remember the lessons. So this may be the longest post ever. But that's okay, our little family needs it. So . . .

Back to the beginning . . .

Our little family had been sniffling and coughing for most of February. Not any huge deal, but we hadn't been getting enough sleep due to the hearings-for-the-band-that-wants-to-drum-babies-out-of-bed-at-6-a.m., and also lack of Gary. He had been working especially long hours, 80 or more a week, like he does every winter. The sickness wasn't enough to keep us from visiting Preston for my sister's birthday, (One of the last times before the big move . . .another topic, but it was weird. Just had to not think about it.), but it was enough to slow us down. With enough humidifiers going, lemon tea, and albuterol, we were making it. We even thought we were better! We went to a ward party Friday night (the 10th), and after having a fun time went to bed thinking everything was just grand. But then I woke up in the middle of the night with body aches. I got up and took some medicine and then curled down in my covers as many different ways as I could to make myself go back to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I still felt yucky, but meds could control it. But Gary felt yucky, Josh's cough was worse, Andrew had a yucky nose, and Lissy had a fever. Sick day.

That night in the middle of the night Lissy started working harder to breathe and her cough (which she had had for a couple of days) was even yuckier. At 3 a.m. she couldn't sleep and I was worried about her. She wasn't struggling enough to be taken to the E.R., but enough that I couldn't rest. Gary gave her a blessing, and in it she was blessed to recover fully. We all felt well enough to sleep for the rest of the night.

The next morning was Sunday. Noah had a talk to give in Primary, his first (SO cute, I want to write more about that), and I'd said I would sit in on his class, so since he was the only well-child and I could feel okay when drugged, just the two of us went to church together. Aside from that good memory, the rest of the day is a fog of sickness. I worried about Lissy's fever getting worse and worse, but I couldn't find a thermometer to measure it. She spent most of the day with her onsie unbuttoned so that I could lift it up and look at her chest to see how her breathing was going. I was feeling worse and worse myself, so much so that my voice was almost totally gone by the time I called around for a thermometer. My friend felt bad for us and brought us dinner, which was heaven-sent. I tried to read books to my boys, and Josh kept saying, "Cough, mom!" because he couldn't hear what I was saying. I kept thinking the entire day that I would need to take Lissy to urgent care, but since I've had kids with breathing trouble so much, I knew she wasn't to the point yet where they would do anything besides tell me to use a humidifier and Tylenol. As the day wore on her appetite got worse, but when she finally fell asleep in the evening, she seemed so peaceful I decided to just let her rest. Though not without first calling my dad to make sure she would wake up if she were in severe respiratory distress.

That night was pretty awful. When Lissy finally woke up, it was too late (1 or 2 a.m.) to go to urgent care or to call anyone, but not bad enough to take her to the E.R. She kind of tried to eat, but didn't really eat much, then just cried her pitiful cry and coughed her nasty cough. I couldn't let her be alone in bed, I had to know she was okay, so I slept on my side with Lissy in the crook of my arm. Gary woke up to go to work around 6 a.m., and Lissy woke up, too. She acted hungry, but when I tried to feed her, she wouldn't eat. That's when I was absolutely sure I would take her to the doctor the second I got a chance. The distance between 6 and 8 o' clock seemed like eternity.

I finally got Lissy back to sleep, but I got ready for the day so I could leave the minute I needed to. I got an appointment with our pediatrician for 9:15, but even though I was worried about Lissy, I wasn't thinking it would be too dramatic. My friend offered to watch Noah and Andrew, but I decided to take them with me thinking that if they went somewhere else they would only share our diseases. My other kids have all had RSV and/or other brochiolitic viruses, and though they got pretty sick, it was nothing that couldn't be treated with a doctor's visit or two, along with a lot of home TLC. When Lissy woke up I heard Noah in by her bed singing her, "Hey, soul sister, ain't that Mister Mister on the radio . . ." She wouldn't quit crying all morning, but when I was running around doing things I came back to find Lissy on Noah's lap, with him rocking and singing, "I am a Child of God." I offered to feed her about every 10 minutes all morning, but she refused to even try to latch on.

At the doctor's office she started out with all of the normal stuff - weight, temperature, oxygen saturation . . . and that was a problem. Her sats were moving between 85 and 89, which isn't scary low, but too low for a little baby to just go home. Instead of telling me to wait for the doctor, the M.A. went and got the doctor to come straight in. The other big problem was that her respirations were 96 per minute, which I didn't have a frame of reference for before, but after living for two weeks with that being the most important stat of my life, I know that is very, very fast. The doctor said Lissy would need to go to the hospital for an 8 hour observation before we could go home, especially since the RSV test was positive. She gave me the option of Primary Children's or Mountain West Medical Center, which is our local hospital. I have had some interesting experiences with Mountain West, so I chose Primary's. I called my friend to come get Noah and Andrew, and when she came she brought me some snacks that turned out to be a life-saver.

When I returned to the room after saying good-bye to my boys, the M.A. was telling some paramedics on the phone to take Lissy to Mountain West. What? I was surprised, and when I asked about it she said, "Mountain West is fine, my kids have been there. " I said, "Mine have too, and it can be fine, but I'm just not sure." I didn't want to be a drama queen, you know, that lady who has to go to Primary's, so I said ok. But when the paramedics came and asked where they were taking us, the

9/23

I never had a chance to finish this story. I've thought and worried about not doing it a lot, but always think it's better to keep current on what we're doing so I don't get further behind. Then today was the Brigham City temple dedication. It was amazing. So powerful at so many moments. One impression I got was that I need to finish writing this. Coming back to it I am amazed at how many details I have forgotten, and feel sad I didn't write things earlier. But, all I can do is my best at this moment, so here goes . . .

So, when the paramedics came and asked where they were taking us, the M.A. said "Mountain West." But I couldn't feel great about it. I mentioned that we had discussed Primary's, and they told me they'd take us anywhere. It seemed like 10 people were staring at me and the world was in slow motion. It was probably only 5, but still . . . suddenly the doctor came into the room and saw the dilemma. She calmly and cheerfully said, "Why don't we just send you to Primary's?" I will always be thankful to her for that, as not only did it really help in the moment, but it turned out to be an inspired decision.

The ride in the ambulance was uneventful, besides the fact that, um, yeah, I was in an ambulance with my baby. They actually had her ride in her carseat on the stretcher. She had oxygen flowing the entire time, and with it her sats were fine and she seemed to feel much better. I was tired and had a foggy sick-head, but I spent the entire time letting people know what was going on. Yes, that picture I just texted you was Lissy in her carseat in an ambulance.

Lissy's ambulance adventure . . . she actually felt much better at this point due to the oxygen.

 By the time we arrived at the hospital, I almost felt stupid that we were there. Lissy was doing so well with the oxygen that you could tell nobody was very concerned. Once they got the full story, though, they became worried about the fact she hadn't eaten in a long time. The nurse asked me to try to nurse Lissy, so I tried again. Lissy wouldn't even try to latch on. Crazy thing is, as I write this, I can remember exactly what the nurse looked like - tall, probably early 40's, really nice . . . everyone there was really nice . . . anyway, the nurse said that sometimes nursing is too much work for babies, and had me try a bottle of Pedialyte, just to hydrate her. She wasn't having it. I think at that point it was determined that she would need an I.V. to get her hydrated. The nurse tried to start it, but couldn't find a vein, so they called in the I.V. team. That was a trip. The I.V. team came in, turned off the lights, and used an ultraviolet light to find a vein. With the I.V. in and a nasal cannula smoothly delivering the oxygen, Lissy relaxed, and I realized I felt awful. Being introduced to the hospital grade breast pump helped me feel better, as did my friend's snacks that had been saving me all day, but at some point I needed ibuprofen and food. The E.R. doctor that was helping Lissy got me some meds, and the nurses volunteered to hold Lissy while I got something to eat.

Before things got dramatic, it was fun to take pictures of the events. Here she is getting all warmed up  for her I.V. insertion.

The nurse called this hot packs (I.V. prep) Lissy's boxing gloves.

Normally my first reaction would be to tell Gary to come running to us, and Gary's first reaction would be to come, but this was near the end of the legislative session . . . no running to us for Gary. He had a huge meeting he was in charge of the next day, and this whole thing seemed manageable in the beginning. I was in charge of a Valentine's Day party for preschool the next day, and I already had it planned, so I thought I'd just finish throwing it together when we got home that evening . . . yeah, I really thought that. At some point we were told Lissy would need to stay overnight for observation, but just in the "rapid transition unit." I only spent an afternoon/evening there, but I love the rapid transition unit. The (male) nurse we had was so awesome. He made sure I had a place to lie down, snacks as much as I needed them, and slipped me medicine when it was obvious I needed it. That little bed they made me looked sooooo good, and I looked forward to getting some rest. Except that Lissy couldn't rest. She screamed unless she was held, and kind of lightly fussed even though she was in my arms. I normally love a chance to sit and snuggle my sweet baby, but she wasn't relaxed, she was hooked up to tubes and wires, and my head and throat were feeling worse by the second . . .and then the cavalry arrived.

My sweet mama walked in and immediately took baby Lissy. She let me lie down, and even go out and use the phone. Aaah . . . But still, no rest. The doctor that came in to check on Lissy noted that she seemed to be struggling a little bit too much to breathe, and said that if she couldn't breathe a little easier, she might tire out and stop. The way to help this problem, she said, is to go to Intensive Care and be placed on high flow oxygen, which is an entirely different delivery system for oxygen that actually blows the air in with such force it forces the lungs to inflate. I hadn't been very concerned about Lissy's outcome, but when I considered the meaning of being sent to the ICU, I had a little mini-moment of deep concern. It quickly went away, though. I had my dad call me in an antibiotic for my sinus infection/bronchitis, and earnestly looked forward to the next week when the whole experience would be behind us.

Gary arrived at the hospital in the evening, and my mom went home to take care of the boys . . . including making Valentines for their class parties the next day. Gary got ice cream, and we enjoyed being together as the ICU question was tossed around. Finally around 11 p.m. the doctor came in, saw Lissy's work of breathing had become worse, and said, "Let's do it." As we made the move, we were introduced to a whole new round of doctors and nurses, something that would eventually become routine. The respiratory therapist that was assigned to admit Lissy to intensive care was amusing. We stopped to get her a chest x-ray on our way, and she did NOT like it. The RT said, "Well, we probably shouldn't let her fill out a comment card." It was very surprising to see how many doctors and nurses were required to admit one little babe to the ICU . . . I met attendings, fellows, residents, therapists . . . There were masses of them standing around her hospital bed, and at one point someone said, "Ready?" Everyone picked up notebooks and pens. "Okay, this is Elisabeth, who presented at the clinc . . . " They all wrote it.

Super-sick babe, right before her transfer to the ICU. You can see that already the I.V. fluids had made her extremely swollen if you compare this picture to the ones I took when she first arrived. I think I took this picture with the thought I'd show it to the boys, though my picture-taking mood was largely past.

The transfer to the pediatric intensive care unit at Primary Children's is one of the many signs that the Lord was watching out for baby Elisabeth. Primary's is the children's hospital for 5 states, and had she gone anywhere else, she would have been life-flighted to Primary's that evening. While that could have merely been extra drama, it could have been scary complications. This girl went from looking border-line ok to being in the intensive care on 8 liters of high-flow oxygen (the highest it will go) in a short period of time. I will be forever grateful we were already at Primary's.

By the time things were settled down - around midnight - I was feeling horrible. My voice could barely scratch out a sentence, my throat was on fire, and my head was pounding. There was nothing but a chair next to Lissy's new bed in the ICU, but I knew I had to be there for my baby. Then the nurse, Liz, came up to me and said, "So, you seem like you're really sick. I know it's hard to leave your baby, I would have a hard time with it, too, but if I were you, that's what I'd do. You need rest to take care of her." Leave my baby in the intensive care?! Yes, person after person told me I should. She had one on one attention now. I was so sick I went along with it, and let Gary lead me to the car. I vowed to be there at 8 a.m. sharp the next morning when they started letting people in. How did I get home that night? Definitely Gary driving, but the whole memory goes off after I left baby Lissy hooked up to high-flow oxygen in intensive care.

First Days and Last Day

The moment Noah has been waiting for his whole life happened this week - the first day of kindergarten. I held his hand as we walked in together, and when I looked down at him, he was grinning his biggest grin. I said, "Noah, it's your big day!" He took a big satisfied breath, held up his chin, and widened the smile. I nearly started bawling right there at how cute he was, but I held it in until I was driving away. As I drove past the kindergarten playground I saw him in his orange shirt, hanging on a bar, and I lost it. Noah cannot grow up, I need him to be little!! I told him he can go to kindergarten, but he'll have to do it every year. On the bright sides, this was the first successful walk-my-child-into-class-on-the-first-day experience I've had. Also, Noah adores everything about kindergarten so far. Every day this week he nearly perished waiting until the afternoon to go to school. Andrew and I are loving our snuggle time while Noah is away, so I think afternoon kindergarten is perfect for us.

Andrew also had his first day of preschool ever, but acted like it was just part of life. He was excited and had fun, but I think he'll feel more grown up when it's not at our house. His little group is really cute, and really little. We had a great time, but I had to remind myself that these kiddos are two years younger than Noah's group that just ended a few months ago. They were so happy to sing and hear stories, and Andrew was right in the thick of it. He was excited to do his name puzzle over and over, and spent a long time decorating his art with his friend Jace.

First day of preschool!

First day of kindergarten!

I tried to get Noah alone in the picture, but he really wanted Lissy to be in it. The other picture is more clear, but this one shows how cute he was with her. 

I went to load the pictures onto the computer, and discovered a series of photos like this that I did not take. It's cute because it shows the perspective of the kids playing in the weeds all day. They love making discoveries back there! It also shows my poor, poor sad crib.

Another crib part - I post because it reminds me that they were using the crib parts as a ladder to get over the fence. They lowered one of the parts onto the other side of the fence, too. My neighbor took great amusement in watching them pop up and go back and forth. 

They do this all of the time - I tell them they can't eat their food in the living room, so they sit by the door on the tile. This time I caught it on camera.

By Friday night Gary and I were ready to get out of the house and be with our kids! We ate at Costa Vida then stopped at the D.I. to see if there were any treasures - and there was! Andrew's bed is among the multitude of broken things at our house, and just thinking about how we are going to fix/replace it all is overwhelming. However, I've had a sense of peace that it will all work out, and here you go, a $10 solid wood toddler bed. It's actually really banged up and yucky looking in real life, but we're painting it. Even with the paint, the price will be half of what most people sell them for on KSL. Makes me feel like someone's taking care of us.

I was going to wait to post a picture of the bed until I could do the before and after, but I just love the glimpse of Noah in the corner. Other treasures discovered at the D.I. were a baseball cap and BYU jersey for Noah (pictured), and a football helmet for Josh. He wants to be a football player for Halloween, so it was an amazing find for him. After the D.I. Gary took Josh and Andrew to the fourth quarter of the high school football game down the street from our house, and Josh came home saying, "That was the most awesome game ever!" Even though we were all getting in bed, Josh put on a football shirt, some athletic shorts, and his helmet, and grabbed his football. Had to give it a few tosses before he could sleep. He then wore it all day Saturday, and tried to eat his Sunday dinner through the face mask. So awesome.

There's the bed - but look at the cutie in the corner!

On Saturday we all tried to get projects done, but had to quit in order to go to Seven Peaks for the last time this summer! It was a gray day, and that was what I needed to feel cheerful inside. When we pulled into the parking lot Lissy squealed because she was so excited. We had a few vouchers for parking and tube rentals left, so we thought we'd make one last adventure for the summer and all go on the tube slides as a family. I got to go with Andrew several times, and going on a slide with him makes the trip all worth it, he has so much fun. Lissy thought she was quite the swimmer, and Josh and Noah were adorable going on slides together. There's an interesting feeling when going swimming after school starts  - don't know how to pin point it. Anyway, perfect night to go, and it was awesome not having any lines for the slides.

Just one shot of Sunday . . .

This is what happens when you have brothers. "Hat, hat, mommy!"

Josh's First Talk

This is Josh's fourth year in Primary, and his first talk was today. Noah has already given two, and is only in his second year, so Josh was pretty excited to get his chance! We sat down together to prepare, and he was very serious about trying to think of examples and make it good. His topic was, "Heavenly Father answers my prayers in many different ways." I asked him to think of some personal examples, and we listed them. Then, I asked him to think of some examples from the scriptures, and we listed those. I then asked him to choose which ones he wanted to use. I wrote the words out that so he would be able to read them later, but I wrote them as he said he wanted them. There were times I would have made different choices, but it wasn't my talk, it was his, and he did a really thoughtful job. He even thought of the segue to the scripture portion by himself. When he got up to give it he looked so sharp in his tie, and did so well giving it. Even though we have a huge junior primary that can be pretty wiggly, the kids seemed to be listening to him. Talking about it later, Gary said, "If I think about it hard enough, I'll get all choked up." Here is his talk:

Heavenly Father answers prayers in many different ways.

When I'm scared at night, I say a prayer, and Heavenly Father helps me forget the things I was thinking of.

Last year I got lost at Sea World. I said a prayer and then some people took me to the Sea World workers, who helped me find my grandma.

When I'm climbing rocks that are big and I don't know how to get down, I say a prayer, and Heavenly Father helps me to know how to get down.

In the scriptures people said prayers, too, like these people.

When all of the wicked people in Babel built a tower to get to heaven, God made it so everybody spoke a different language and couldn't understand each other. The brother of Jared said a prayer and his family could understand each other.

When Jonah disobeyed God and got swallowed by a whale, then he said a prayer to repent and he was okay.

I'd like to bear my testimony, and I know this church is true, and I know when you say a prayer Heavenly Father answers you in many different ways.

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Oh, yes, and our whole family was in there to hear it, too! Noah and Andrew are already in Primary, Gary and I were in there to watch, and Lissy stunk up her diaper at the last minute and ended up watching, too.

Back to It!

I'm struggling with this back to school thing. So weird, because last year I was fine. I've had so much fun having all of my kids with me this summer, and with all of the things we've been up to, it's flown by. Tonight was back-to-school night, and Josh's teacher seemed really great. She told the kids they'll be making pirate maps tomorrow, and also having Otter Pops. Josh is pretty pumped, and after we left I felt excited, too. This is going to be great, I thought. But then, I put him to bed . . . and realized I won't be having leisurely mornings with him. Won't be taking him to the library, or to the swimming pool. When will I read to him? It's sooo hard once school and all it's associated craziness starts. Oh, my, my heart just hurts, I should be used to this by now, there is a literal ache. Reading it back I realize it doesn't seem like a big deal, but when I thought of taking my kids to the pool, the tears just started flowing.

I wrote that the night before school started, and I'm glad I did, because how quickly I forget the poignancy of emotions that have passed. Okay, a re-cap . . .

On Monday, Gary's office had their annual barbeque at a park in Salt Lake, and we had fun eating, playing soccer, finding rocks in a stream, and seeing Gary in the middle of the day. School was to start the next day, and that night held a full line-up of back to school night, family home evening, and getting ready for school. However, when we went to go home, I got the news - Gary had an extremely important meeting on Friday he needed to stay late at work to prepare for. So, revamp the plans, we did it all without Gary. Thanks to some friends who let Lissy run with them, back to school night was great, as I mentioned earlier. I got the boys school shirts, and Noah was so proud to be old enough to get one.

Josh chose caramel sticky buns (which we'd never had before) for his back-to-school breakfast, but when the morning came, he was too nervous and excited to eat more than a bite. I was so sad to send him, I knew I had to do something, so I prepared to go to the gym after I dropped him off. I think the reason I was so sad this year was because I really realized how little I would see him, whereas before I hadn't had the full-day school experience. Josh preferred to walk to class by himself, but the look on his face as he responded to my tearful "I love you" and walked away let me know he really loved and would miss me, too. I started bawling, and Andrew said, "Josh will come back, mom, don't be sad." Noah added, "Yeah, if he wasn't coming back, that's what would be sad." Too true, children. After I called my momma and worked out my sad at the gym, I took the others to the "dinosaur park," and had a great time playing. At one point Andrew and Lissy were on swings next to each other, and they got in the same back-and-forth rhythm. They both started belly-laughing, and Andrew said, "This is hilarious!"

Second year in a row taking his back-to-school photo with my iPod, this time because the camera was sent away for repair. He's so cute, though, regardless! Second grade, here he comes.

Soccer started this week, too, but not without a tinge of drama. Josh has been on a team with the same kids and coach for 3 years, and wanted to again. However, the coach was told there were too many coaches in the league, and asked if he could coach the girls. He said okay, as long as the boys were kept together. Several of them were kept together, but not Josh. I called and emailed lots of different people, but they all said only the director of the league could change it, and he wouldn't. So, even though Josh was about to cry, I took him to his first practice. He came away completely pumped about soccer, and said, "Guess what my team name is, mom?!" I had lots of guesses, but was not prepared for Josh to say, "The Creepers!" Say what? I guess it's from Minecraft, so it's okay? Anyway, I was glad to see Josh excited, and I actually know several of the kids on the team, so we'll have a great season. Andrew and Noah started, too. Noah was crazy excited, and Andrew actually participated, so that's good.

Gary had to work late every night, so imagine how awesome it was to be getting vitamins and a binkie downstairs for bedtime, and hear Josh yell, "Mom, Andrew broke the crib!" Oh, my. It was a slat in the back, right in the middle. I duct taped it and put a cardboard box in front of it for the night (Gary's idea), and then called the company the next day. Turns out the crib has been recalled due to easily-broken slats, so I was told to send in certain pieces of the crib for confirmation, and then we will receive a voucher for a new crib. I was pretty excited - so Andrew wasn't the ruin-er, it was the crib, and we would be getting a new one, what fortune! So, that night Gary literally used a saw (as per instructions) to remove the part they wanted us to send in, and I did so the next day. Only then did I google the situation and find that many people only receive a $65 voucher toward a new one . . . the crib was really pretty and cost waaay more than that originally. Cross your fingers or pray or whatever that the crib situation turns out. It would be nice to cross something off the fix-it/buy-it list, it's getting a bit lengthy. But hey, none of us are on the fix-it list, so that's all we need.

In the absence of the father of the home, the kids and I had a little Cafe Rio trip this week. It was fun and yum, and the next day as we ate the leftovers, I asked Noah, "So, do you like pinto beans better than black beans now?" "Yes," he replied, "Pinto beans have more flavor." Andrew disagreed. "No, jelly beans have more flavor."

I was also amused by the quiet time we had on the first day of school. Noah and Andrew were pretty pumped because we found out we got a Beyblade House Party (hooray!), and then they picked a book about jackals to read. They spent most of quiet time pretending to be jackals, and once my arm was pretty chewed up, I decided we'd been "quiet" for long enough. They made up for it on Thursday by totally sacking out for a few hours.

Poor Gary only got an hour and a half of sleep on Thursday night, but he said the meeting on Friday was awesome, so he done good.

Part-way through the week we got our camera back, hooray! Some friends came over Friday night while their parents went to the temple, and they spent a very long time trying to make a house out of the now-useless crib. It was pretty cute.

These two are buddies, it's adorable.

First soccer games on Saturday morning! Josh did really well. He is still the youngest in his league this year, but he played with a lot more confidence, and had several shots-on-goal. Noah was so excited he was antsy all morning, and then really got into his game. Andrew actually played, so we were happy.

Josh got a chance to be goalie - he was pretty intense, until this moment where the action was on the other end of the field.

It's Josh, dribbling the ball down the field!

Noah's in the mix here.

Noah was working hard out there!

Oh, my goodness, look at his grin!

It was a child who took this picture of the other kids digging into the box of pears, but I think it's funny. It's going to be pear week at our house!

I took Andrew on a date yesterday. That kid is too sweet and adorable. Noah had gotten to go to Coldstone, so I suggested that, but he really wanted to get his ice cream at McDonald's. Too bad for me, but he was thrilled, so I loved it. While we ate, I asked him, "So Andrew, what makes you feel happy?" "Flowers," he replied. "No, picking a flower. No . . . giving a flower!" All that said with a huge grin. He played on the toys a few minutes and stopped to give me that grin through the little windows. He wanted a toy from McDonald's, but I told him that since we were going to the dollar store to get some things for preschool, I'd just let him pick out a toy there. When he got his chance to pick, he wanted to get three of everything he decided on, so Josh and Noah could have one, too. I told him that since it was his date, he didn't need to, but he insisted. His brothers needed what he had. That boy . . . so kind and thoughtful. We really enjoyed being together.

The Last Week of Summer Magic

A snow cone shack opened in our town this summer, and we made the trip to the lake to get one for family home evening on Monday. Yummy, yes, but oh, my goodness, look at this view. We really live in such a lovely place. This summer I've been thinking about how lucky we are. Not only are there wonderful people in our neighborhood, our little town is really a little community. When I went to swimming lessons this summer, I not only knew people from our ward, but from school, soccer, other years of swimming . . . I love it.

Lissy discovered getting piggy back rides from Josh is pretty fun.

Our grandest adventure of the week was on Tuesday, when he headed down to Lehi to hang out with our friends. We met up at the dinosaur museum, ate lunch at their house, then hit up a few rides at Trafalga? Do I need to say the kids loved it? Every second. So did I. Getting together with them always makes me want to move or make them move back so we can let the kids have fun while we solve the world's problems more often. Grand adventure of a day.

Evidence we went to the dinosaur museum

Even had fun in the elevator

These two were best buds ever since they were babies, and still love to play when they get together.

Proof we went to Trafalga - these two loved this ride.

Gary and I got the chance to go to the Bountiful temple that evening. I highly recommend it. We ran ourselves silly trying to get to the 5:30 session, but when we got to the waiting room, there were 2 rows of people who didn't get in, either, because it was full. We were told the next on was at 6:30 - I was disappointed, we couldn't wait that long because of the kids. Just as we were about to walk away from the door and do something else, a worker walked out of the room the session was in and said, "They can take 7 more people." We weren't going to just go ahead of the others who were ahead of us, so we hesitated. "Go!" she said. Okay, thanks! What a huge blessing, since we wouldn't have had the chance to do a session for another month if she hadn't helped us.

The kids and I took our last trip to the community pool for the season. We'd had plans to go with another family, but they got sick. Bummer. However, when we showed up, there were other people we knew already there. I love our town! So fun to catch up with friends. Also, playing with Lissy and Andrew in the little pool while watching Josh and Noah do their fancy tricks off the diving board is one of my favorite things to do. Contentment.

Josh and Noah were part of a little book club some friends and I put together this summer. We had 4 moms each take a week doing activities related to a Magic Treehouse book. The kids LOVED it. Josh said it was his favorite thing of the summer, which is really huge considering our summer and the fact I wouldn't let him attend unless he read the book, which he has to be forced to do. We met at our house the last week, and centered things around the Space Fact Tracker from the series. I was amazed at how much stuff those kids knew! All of them are whip smart. Josh remembered all sorts of things from the book I couldn't believe, but absolutely could not focus on finishing his writing activity if anything else was going on around him. I hope this isn't a problem for school, I'm a bit nervous. After the writing and quiz game, we made some moon art, and then split into groups and put together a play about some space missions. The boys did Apollo 11 (very loosely adapted), and the girls wanted to do the first pets in space. They were all too cute, I wish I had pictures, but that was in my "dead camera" portion of life. The girls put bike helmets on stuffed animals to be pet astronauts and the boys used the swingset as the space ship, the trampoline to do some type of blasting, and the climber as the moon. Oh, yeah, did you know there was a 3rd guy with Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin who didn't walk on the moon because he flew the ship? The kids felt sorry for him.

I got a random but very interesting opportunity to be part of a legal research study where I was on a mock jury for an actual pending case. I guess both parties want to know how their arguments play to a real jury, and they picked people from various age/ethnic groups across Utah to watch and listen to the case on our computers, then participate in a conference call to deliberate. I can't say what the case was since it's for real, but it was very sad. The deliberations portion was very interesting - when I heard everyone's initial thoughts, I got worried that people don't think sanely, but after a calm and logical discussion, things went really well. I wonder if a case that charged would be more awkward in real life? At any rate, it was great to be at a stage where I could run around doing this and that with my kids while participating - I only had to send Lissy and Andrew to a friend's for 2 hours, and then with naps, playing outside, Josh's burrito-warming skills, and TV, it was covered.

That weekend was our town's "Days." As part of it, on Friday night there was a lighted boat promenade on the lake. Gary bought ice cream sandwiches for us to eat as we watched. It turned out there weren't many boats this year, but wow, look at the view. Of course a camera phone is never going to capture how it really was, especially since the best part was our family being there and enjoying it.

The kids had lots of fun rolling down the hill.

On Saturday night, there were fireworks over the lake. The kids all got glow sticks, and had a great time running around until the show started. You should have heard Lissy's high little voice saying, "Hi-ya!" It was such a beautiful night, and the sunset over the lake was gorgeous. As soon as the first firework went off, Lissy came running to me in a panic, but then sat down and really loved the show. I'm not kidding when I say it was one of the best I've ever seen - the last few seconds had me holding my breath. Andrew said the fireworks were "unsploding."

I'd ask the kids to pose for a picture and they would have to do something awesome rather than stand still. It cracks me up, so I'm saving them.

Right at the beginning - then it's better to just watch. :)

Gary took a picture of me with the kids after the fireworks, and I love this procession of photos - these kids are so much fun. Oh, yes, and I'm wearing a dress because it was the adult session of stake conference.

And this is Captain Underpants and his excited sister.