On Reading and Letting Go

The picture on the left is of my Grandma Kinney, my Mommy and me. I have very few pictures of my Grandma & me together which is sad, especially because she was one of the most influential people in my life. This picture was taken in her living room, and one thing you can't see in this photo is that one wall of that room was covered with gorgeous floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that my Grandfather built. There are many things that I loved about my grandparents' home-- I dream more often that I am there than any other place in the world-- but the sight of those beautiful bookshelves full of books is one of the images I love the most.

My grandmother was an avid reader. She ALWAYS had a book to read. Always. She even followed the Library's new book lists in the newspaper, and would call the Library to place her name on hold lists (this was many years before we had the ability to do such things via computer!) so that she wouldn't miss out on a new title. She is the reason I like dictionaries so much and feel like I have to look up words to make sure I have the precise definition before I explain them to Kiddo, or even use them on Facebook! So I think she liked that I had inherited the bookworm gene and rarely arrived at her house without a book of my own to read.

Grandma spoke several times to me of the classics she loved as a child, with such reverence and enthusiasm. Many times I heard about how exciting Treasure Island and Kidnapped were, or how charming The Five Little Peppers and How They Grew was. Yet the only of her favorites that I can recall her successfully convincing me to read was Heidi-- and that may have just been because I'd seen the Shirley Temple movie and was curious to see if the filmmakers had butchered adapted that story as badly as A Little Princess. Instead, she probably saw a parade of Baby-Sitters' Club, Sweet Valley, and other mass-produced series books coming in and out of her doors-- not that those were the only books I read, but the sheer number of them would have made it seem that way. So along with the joy in seeing me love to read, there was some disappointment that I didn't take her advice -- or at least some bewilderment-- and that I wouldn't share her love for her favorite tales.

Fast-forward several years. The photo on the right is of course, of Kiddo and me- at his school for a Read Every Day event last year. For the first five or six years of his life, he and I shared countless joyful hours of reading together. I could pick nearly any title and, if I shared it with him, he usually enjoyed it. But for the last year or so.... well, I guess you could say Kiddo and I butt heads a lot, particularly about the issue of reading. This beautiful, brilliant boy who learned to read fluently and independently earlier than anyone I'd ever met started telling me, "I hate reading." "Reading is boring." Even though he still wants me to read at bedtime, he's gradually gotten much pickier about what I read to him. Then we started hearing, "I'll ONLY read Basketball books" and "You can't make me read THAT." There were tears and arguments over completing Fluency reading assignments. And last week, this Mommy had a horrible meltdown before bedtime. After Kiddo fell asleep, I found myself in shock. How could *this* boy have stopped loving to read? And how could *I* have a child whose heart did not fill with joy when given the admonition to "Go read a book?" Am I really going to be able to handle it if any of my children really DO end up hating reading?

The next morning Kiddo woke up exceedingly early and went downstairs to our "Study room," where most of our Chapter books reside. From the shelves, he selected Diary of a Wimpy Kid, which he had begged for nearly a year ago but later refused to finish. He came back upstairs, sat down at the table, opened his book, and started to read to me. He read for half an hour. And then, every day for 5 days, he voluntarily brought the book to me and read to me more. On Monday, he finished it. Several times in the past week, he's told me how much he enjoyed this book, how funny it is, and how he wants to keep reading the series. Today we went to the bookstore, and he asked for not just the 2nd Wimpy Kid book, but also some Puppy Place books. Excited about his renewed enthusiasm, I ignored that the additional titles are well below his reading level, and maybe not "Great Literature," and gladly purchased them for him.

As we returned home, I thought of my Grandmother, and how much she wanted me to read the books that she loved, but how she accepted that I was content to read the books *I* chose, regardless of their perceived "literary merits." I thought of the conversation Kiddo and I had earlier this week about how important it is to find the right books FOR YOU, the books that will capture YOUR interest and inspire you-- even if they're not the books that someone who loves you very much feels *certain* you'll enjoy if only you'll *give it a try.* And I thought, "Okay, Grandma. I get it now. I think I know what you must have been feeling all those years ago."

So even though we didn't emerge from the bookstore with a bag full of Newbery winners, and even though my collections of Beverly Cleary or Kate diCamillo books sit on the shelf unread for now, I am happy. I am satisfied that my Kiddo does still enjoy time spent with a book, that he still wants to read, and that he does not, in fact HATE books. And I am letting go of my expectations of WHAT he should/must/will read, in hopes that he too, will gain the lifelong satisfaction that comes from immersing himself in a book.

And I remember that five years ago, I finally did read Treasure Island-- sadly, too late to discuss it with Grandma, but instead, in loving memory of her, and all that she did for me, all that she taught me. Perhaps someday, Kiddo might do the same.

Today's the Day

 

As I sit here, awake in these wee hours of the morning, I am reminded of where I was at this time three years ago.  I remember waking up a little after midnight with what I was pretty sure were actually contractions and wondering if this would be the day I'd meet my son.  

I remember timing my contractions in our dark, quiet room while my husband slept.  I remember having to wake him up a few times because in his sleepy fog, he didn't quite grasp that my contractions were already only three minutes apart.  I remember my husband having to wake our new neighbors at almost 3:00 in the morning to ask if they could stay with Kiddo.  

I've mostly forgotten the drive to the hospital, but I remember entering the hospital with fairly intense contractions that just kept getting closer and closer together.  I remember being wheeled upstairs to the maternity ward, having to answer lots of questions in one room (and hadn't I pre-registered? So, why all the questions?) and then being told I still had to walk down the hall to my actual room.  I remember thinking that was just plain crazy, if not a little bit mean.  I remember deciding to stick with my choice to not have an epidural, but then asking for just a little nubain for the pain.  I remember that it didn't seem to help, but that suddenly my eyes wouldn't stay open-- not that I was falling asleep (that would have been impossible), but that my eyelids just kept closing no matter how hard I tried to open them and wondering if that was some weirdo kind of side effect.  

I remember being so glad that the incredibly kind midwife I'd seen at the very end of my pregnancy would be the one helping me deliver, and not the condescending doctor I'd seen earlier, or someone I'd never met.  I remember the nurses telling me to push and thinking that I just couldn't.  It was too difficult, I was too tired-- and yet, somehow, I did.  

  And then, oh then, I met the sweetest angel I've ever known.  He was plump and sweet and perfect, and we were so grateful, so very, very grateful. We couldn't have known then how short a time we'd have with this darling boy, or how awfully our hearts would break less than eight months later.

 

I have a friend whose son died at nearly six weeks old, about a year before Isaac passed away.  I remember reading a friend's posting on her blog that said, "The only thing worse than losing him would be never having had him at all."  When I first read that, Isaac was still with me and I didn't understand what she meant.  Now I do.  With all the pain and grief and sorrow that we've felt in these last two and a half years, it doesn't diminish the joy we felt to have Isaac in our lives.  As horrible as it has been to lose him, I would never want to know a life without those happy, beautiful months with the sweetest baby you could ever meet.  And we cling tightly to the hope that the joy we felt then will be nothing compared to the happiness we'll feel when, after this life, we can be with him again-- forever.

Today is a hard day.  I can't help but sob as I type these words.  I MISS HIM.  There is nothing like the ache of missing your child.  It is the deepest pain you can imagine.  I think of what he would be like at three, that he'd be talking and running and making us laugh.  I wonder if he'd look like Kiddo.  He was a go-getter of a baby, who seemed to do everything early and didn't seem to fear anything.  I imagined he'd be an athlete, but he was already trying to talk so I sensed that he was also going to be very intelligent.  And he was just happy, mellow, and peaceful.  Would he have stayed that way as a toddler?  Would he have liked the things his brother liked?  Would he be reading at the same amazingly early age?  I don't know, and the wondering hurts.

But today is also a glorious day.  It is the day my angel was born.  It was the day he brought brightness and hope into our lives.  And so, today we will once again celebrate his life.  We will honor him with kindness and service.   We will try to make him proud.  We imagine him looking on from heaven and smiling his incredible smile as he sees the good deeds done in his memory.  

  

Once again, many of our friends and family have pledged to do the same.  I hope you are one of them.  It's quite simple, really.  Just go out of your way to make someone else's day brighter.  Write a letter.  Forgive someone.  Share a treat.  Give someone a ride.  Mow someone else's lawn.  Visit someone who is sick or elderly.  Recycle.  Plant a tree.  Apologize to someone you've hurt.  Call your mother.  Say thank you.  Offer to babysit for free.  Share your talents.  Pick up litter.  Go to Church/the Temple/synagogue/mosque.  Decide not to argue with someone.  Give a book to a child.  Give hugs.  Donate to a charity.  And hold your children close.  Tell them how much you love them and how glad you are they're yours.

 And think of Isaac, because today is the day.

***If you would like to make a donation in Isaac's memory, there are many, many organizations we love like Heifer International, LDS Humanitatian Services, The Ronald McDonald House, and others which are linked on the sidebar-- and, of course, there's always your local library.  In particular this year, we support The Cure Starts Now http://csn.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&eventID=605&participantID=1106  in honor of Oliver Palmer.  Also, our dear friends, Tara & Aaron are  building a LIBRARY in LESOTHO!!

My Little Snuggle Puppy

I think that Little Friend is truly the cuddliest baby I've ever met-- and that's saying a lot, because all of my boys have been cuddle bugs. From the beginning, he has loved to be held as much as possible. I often think that it is perfect that he came third, because after losing Isaac, I really want to hold on to this baby even more tightly!

(with Isaac, Christmas 2009)
Sometimes I think I'm cuddling Little Friend not just for him, but also for his angel brother who I continue to miss deeply and profoundly.

For several months, Little Friend honestly HAD TO nap at least once a day either in my arms, or laying on my chest or his day was just OFF. In the past, I probably would have let my baby cry it out a little more or just let him learn to cope, but this time around nothing seems more important than holding my precious boy.

Thankfully, Kiddo has been a very cooperative older brother. He has a tender heart when it comes to babies, and he hates to see his little brother upset. So he doesn't complain much when the baby's needs have to come first. He was mostly that way with Isaac, too, despite how young he was.

(Kiddo and Isaac)
It really seems like Kiddo never blames his baby brothers; he just wants his Mommy to be more capable of balancing everyone's needs at once!

Also, even though we haven't been nursing for several months, I still let Little Friend co-sleep a lot of the time and he is, thankfully, a great sleeper-- although he's becoming much more of a mover these days. He likes to be read to and sung to, and lately he likes to hold on to my necklace with Isaac's picture while he is falling asleep.

I know this wouldn't work for a lot of moms, and I totally get that. I certainly am doing this first year very differently than I did with Kiddo, who I let fall asleep on his own, in his crib, in his OWN ROOM at this age. Kiddo has also been an excellent sleeper- for the most part- too. I think that pretty soon I'll have to transition to doing things more like I did with Kiddo, but for right now, it just feels like it's what works for our little family, and what brings comfort immediately to my baby.

Like his brother, Isaac, Little Friend also LOVES kisses. He loves getting them and now, giving them. He grabs my face between his two hands and presses his slobbery little mouth against my cheek many times a day. If Daddy-O or I say, "Kiss-Kiss" to him, he'll usually oblige us. Sometimes he even says, "Mmmmm" when he's giving a kiss. I think that's his attempt to imitate how we say "mwah" when we kiss him sometimes.

He also will kiss Kiddo sometimes, but mainly he likes to reach out and rub the top of Kiddo's head. It's so funny. If Kiddo falls asleep in the car while Little Friend is awake, he will reach for Kiddo's head/hair for sure.

Given their age difference, I wonder how they will get along with, and relate to, each other as they grow up. But for now, they seem to be each other's biggest fan.

And I couldn't be more grateful to be mother to all of them.

The Second Day of Sunshine (2011)

I've been meaning to post about Isaac's birthday for quite some time now... I'm noticing that both this year and last year, I put so much effort in to getting through Mother's Day and his birthday that in the days following, I sort of fall into a deeper level of grief and sorrow. I guess there is something of a letdown after focusing myself on insisting that those days still be positive. So it gets a little harder to stay motivated in those following days. This year, having both Kiddo and Little Friend has helped considerably. They are truly the most entertaining little people on this planet, in my humble-- and not at all biased-- opinion! But it's still hard, because I can't help but feel the profound absence of that other wonderful little boy whose physical presence is no longer felt in our home.

Without a doubt, one thing that has helped me in the past year, was the semester that I had the opportunity to teach Seminary. It was never a calling I would have aspired to-- neither the prospect of teaching FIVE DAYS a week at SIX A.M., nor of trying to reach sleepy teenagers who'd rather be at home, were things that ever excited me. To be quite frank, I have been terrified of teenagers ever since I was one, and I always thought that if I had to work with them, they'd probably eat me alive! However, I really loved that semester of teaching Seminary. I loved immersing myself in the Gospel, and I love my students. Obviously, they didn't eat me! :) So when I thought of what I'd like to do for Isaac's birthday, one of the first things I thought of was my former Seminary class. While I was pregnant, I rather spoiled them by baking lots of goodies and they always seemed to appreciate it. If I were a really great Mommy blogger, I'm sure I would have fed them delicious, fresh, home-made, from scratch cinnamon rolls or something. And I would have arrived an hour early to decorate a lovely table setting for them with matching plates and napkins. But, let's face it, I'm not! And with a new baby, I'm still tired a lot of the time. So I settled for bringing them donuts, cereal, milk, juice, bananas, and candy (gasp! so bad of me, I know!) You can see from the photo that I won't be putting Martha Stewart out of business any time soon!

I did explain to the kids that it was Isaac's birthday, and that I was spreading sunshine in his honor. I gave them each a little picture of his sweet, smiling face and challenged them to do something for someone else that day, too. They seemed pretty happy with their surprise breakfast, despite its lack of fancy-ness. I did get a picture of them smiling, but I had to promise them that I would never post it anywhere since most of them were still in their pajamas! So you can just pretend these are my Seminary students-- minus the bare midriff, of course! ;)
(photo from Microsoft's clipart website)


After I got back home, the Daddy-O and I went to the Temple. Just like last year, we paid the toll for the next four cars behind us on our way there. The Temple is always a peaceful place for us, and where I often feel closest to Isaac. It is particularly poignant when we go to do sealings, because almost every time, we participate in sealing a child who died very young to his or her parents. Our Temple marriage is something that gives us great comfort as we strive to be worthy to see our Isaac again, and we feel gratitude to be able to extend that opportunity to others whose dear children passed away.

After the Temple, we stopped briefly at home to change clothes and pick up Kiddo and Little Friend. I have to say that our children are incredibly good travelers! It's about 90 minutes or so from our home to the cemetery where Isaac is buried, so poor Little Friend spent several hours that day like this:

However, he couldn't have behaved any more perfectly than he did. What a lovely little baby we have!

We took flowers, a balloon, and cards to sweet Isaac's grave. This was the first time we had taken Little Friend, who actually slept through the whole visit, even though I took him out of the car seat for a few minutes! We sang "Happy Birthday" to Isaac, but had to leave shortly after because some little person needed to "go potty!"

It just so happens that my oldest niece was finishing up her freshman year of college in that very town, so I had prepared a goodie bag for her with chips and candy (again with the candy! Bad, bad Rachael...) to help her get through finals week, as well as a card we'd been meaning to give her for AGES. It was fun to surprise her with a visit at work, and even Kiddo was excited to give his cousin ONE OF HIS DINOSAURS. This was a very big deal for him, and we asked him repeatedly if he really wanted to do this... he said "yes!" We were so proud!

By then we were hungry, so we decided to eat at a favorite Mexican restaurant that Daddy-O and I used to go to back when we were dating and newlyweds. On the way there, we stopped at the post office and mailed a birthday card to an old friend I used to work with but haven't talked to in years. Well, once we got to the restaurant, I caused poor Kiddo to regret his sharing the aforementioned Velociraptor by praising him for his generosity. OOPS! It made for a slightly less enjoyable dinner... but overall, it was still a pretty good time.

It made Kiddo feel a bit better to send Cousin Rebecca a text message in which he wrote:

"This is ya bad cousin [Kiddo]. I want my dinosaur back." I honestly couldn't help but crack up, although I told him that asking for a gift back is rude, but it doesn't make him bad!

Most of the times we have eaten at this restaurant, we have had exceptionally good service, but out waiter was really only adequate. I mention this because I had originally wanted to spread some more sunshine by giving him a HUGE tip. So we compromised by giving him a dollar more than we normally give. :) At least it was something, I guess!

By the time we finished eating, we were all pretty tired so we got in the car and headed home, where we had some strawberry ice cream in honor of Isaac (it was my biggest craving while I was pregnant for him, and even when I was nursing him). Then we all crashed.

Don't worry, Little Friend got to get out of his car seat and sleep in bed! :)

Next year, I imagine we'll do things a little differently. I realized a few things this year:

1. We need to involve the boys more in our planning. I was excited when Kiddo gave away his dinosaur, because I thought he was "getting" what we were trying to do. I realized when he wanted it back that I hadn't really explained to Kiddo much about our plans, nor did I involve him by asking HIM what HE'D like to do for someone.
2. I didn't spend enough time just loving and cuddling my boys that are still here. I was so busy all day that I didn't take the time to just snuggle them and tell them just how much I love them and how grateful I am to be their mommy.
3. We were so tired we didn't do our regular nightly routine with Scripture Study and Family prayer, followed by story-reading. This is another time of day when I have felt closer to Isaac, and of course, it is a time when we as a family feel closest. I felt like missing out on this was a major failure for Mommy.
4. It is very hard to fit the Temple, the cemetery AND meaningful service into one day. We will either need to plan our schedule better, or spread these activities over multiple days because I really would like to include ALL of them as much as I can.
5. If I want to involve others in Isaac's day, I really need to post the invitation a bit earlier!

For all of you who helped participate in spreading sunshine for our sweet boy, we want to express our sincere thanks. I really feel that Isaac would, and does, love the way we choose to remember him. I don't exaggerate when I say he was the sweetest, happiest child. So I can't help but think that his beautiful spirit smiles brightly on us each time he sees those who love him bring happiness to others in his honor.

Another Act of Kindness for Isaac

Tuesday would be Isaac's 2nd birthday. Oh, how we continue to miss him each and every day!

One day last week, I found on the coffee table a note Kiddo had written to his little brother. It reads:

"Isaac
"Happy Birthday uh day
uh I do have uh one more thing I
wanted to say
I love you Isaac
I do say I love you Isaac"

(You can tell that Kiddo thinks it's pretty cool to add "uh" to his notes!)

And today he told me he wants to make a card for Isaac, with my stamps and ink. It is amazing to me how connected to Isaac he is. Not a day goes by without Kiddo talking about his little brother at some point. He likes to make up stories about himself being a detective, and Isaac is always his sidekick. Kiddo is really looking forward to Isaac being resurrected someday, and really hopes it will be soon. It certainly does seem like a long time until that day, though.

I hope that Kiddo will always remember Isaac. I'm not sure how much will fade from his memory as he grows up. So far, he remembers a lot about Isaac, and he loves to look at his pictures and watch videos of him. I know that Daddy-O and I will do our best to keep Isaac's memory alive each day and remind Kiddo how much Isaac loved him and continues to love him.

If you've been reading this blog for at least a year, you'll probably remember that we chose to devote his birthday last year to service. It was a blessing to us to spend his special day trying to share the joy he brought us. It helped to comfort us in our time of deep and intense mourning. So we've decided to make it our annual tradition. This year, with a new baby, we probably will have to choose fewer or smaller acts than last year and hope to go all out next year. Again, we're hoping that our friends and family will join us in sharing some of his brightness and happiness with others by performing some acts of kindness to others. I think I can promise you that if you do, you will be blessed, too, as you bring smiles to someone else.

If you join us in serving someone on Tuesday-- or any other day this week, if you don't see this until later-- I hope you'll please share with me what you've done. I want to compile these acts and put them in a book that I will add to each year. Isaac's life on earth may be short, but it certainly mattered, and I hope his sweet and loving influence will continue to be felt at least as long as I live. Being his mother has been one of the greatest privileges of my life, one I will thank God for as long as I have breath.

Little Friend and his angel brother

To read about how we celebrated last year, read here: http://fromthemixedupmindofrachaelm.blogspot.com/2010/05/in-honor-of-isaacs-birthday.html and here: http://fromthemixedupmindofrachaelm.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-we-did-for-isaac.html

Any doubts that this little guy made everyone smile? :)

Coming Soon (I hope)...

In just a few hours, I'll be headed to the hospital to see if we can get our little guy to make his debut. I was really, really, really hoping for a repeat of my birthing experience with Isaac, but it appears my little friend is feeling warm and cozy in the womb and feels no need to escape. So, because my doctor doesn't want me to go past 41 weeks, and I have been very uncomfortable this week, I'm going to try my chances with induction once again. I was induced with Kiddo, too, but in that case, because of my blood pressure. The birth itself didn't seem so bad-- because after the epidural I didn't feel ANYTHING until about an hour after Kiddo was born, but the next eight weeks of recovery were horrible on a lot of levels. So I am really, really, really hoping NOT to have a repeat of my first birthing experience.

It is odd, but this time around, I've hardly thought about the birthing process until a week or two ago. I guess since this is my third child, I've figured that no matter how uncomfortable it is, the experience is temporary and that I'll get through it. However, last minute doubts have certainly been creeping in and worrying me in the last few days. So I really should be asleep, saving up my energy for this big event.

Well, here's what I've been looking like, first at 38 and 1/2 weeks,

then at 39 1/2.

I MIGHT take one last photo before I go to the hospital, but I'm not guaranteeing anything. I'm not really one to diligently document my belly growth. Part of this is because of the reactions I tend to get to my size. Hardly anyone seems to care if they make pregnant ladies feel pretty-- or pretty ugly-- do they? I often hear that I must be confused about my due date or that I'm going to have a huge baby. I realized this time around that I have lived in a different city/town each time I've been pregnant, so to those around me, my size is something new. As for me, however-- well, I think I've become desensitized to the belly, at least by the end of the pregnancy. I know it's big, but it's not a surprise. I've been big with each pregnancy. I carry out front and center, and my babies are at least above average in size. So instead of being shocked and incredulous, I think people should really be amazed and IMPRESSED. You know, instead of saying, "Are you sure you're not having twins?" or "You can't possibly be due on (insert due date). You're just too big" a person should just say/think, "Wow! That is one incredible and awesome belly."

Interestingly, I think it's teenagers who stare the most, although at least they don't comment to my face. It sometimes seems like they've never seen a pregnant lady, or at least one with a belly like mine. But I tell myself that perhaps I can be a living ad for teenage abstinence: "Do you really want to take a chance of looking like this when you're still young and beautiful? Seriously, You CAN wait!"

My own dear Kiddo announced the following recently, "Giraffes are much bigger than you, but... they have smaller bellies." Of course, he also told me earlier in my third trimester, "You look skinny." So I guess you can't really trust his perceptions, eh?

Anyway, hopefully I'll soon be posting a photo of my newest sweet boy. I'm looking forward to meeting him and cuddling him and introducing him to his big brother, who has been SO anxious for his arrival (that is a whole other post in itself). I haven't decided for sure if I will share his name on the blog-- for privacy reasons, I still never refer to Kiddo by his real name, so I'll probably have to come up with a nickname for the new baby, too. Now that Isaac is our angel, it doesn't really feel right to call him Squirt anymore. But I guess we'll see. For now I'm just hoping and praying for a healthy and safe arrival.

More Than Anything

Today, more than anything, we just miss our sweet Isaac.

We miss his smiles, his cuddles, his kisses, his babbling-- everything about our sweet little angel.

Today, more than anything, we cling to the hope that our Savior offers, that one day we will see him again and hold our little Sunshine once more.

Today we cherish every day of the all-too-brief time we had this loving spirit in our home.

Today we are grateful for each day we were privileged to call this dear, sweet boy our own.

Today, more than anything, we still love our Isaac with all our hearts, more each and every day.