Utah, Take 1

It was decided in mid-June that I needed my mama.  But my mama was tied up caring for her mama, so she couldn't come here.  Enter Frontier and their amazing $39 one way fares, and two weeks later, the girls and I hopped on a plane bound for SLC!

Ella made this chart for her daddy.  It has one line for each day we are gone.  He could check off each day and know when we were coming back.  Very sweet.

We had a bit of a wait at the airport.  Ella decided to count all the dots on this sign post to pass the time.  (I think she got tired of it after the first 100.)

As our takeoff time inched closer, it became apparent that there was no way we were leaving on time.  I was ready for a long delay, but it ended up only being about a half hour.  During that half hour we shuffled back and forth between multiple gates, and I was a complete stress case with my unfounded fear that I'd miss an announcement and not get on my flight.  Thankfully everything worked out just fine.  The girls were enthralled by the airplane.  The last time we flew anywhere, Ella was just under 2, so she didn't remember it at all.  Julia was 4, so she remembered a few things, but it was still all very novel and exciting.  When we took off, Julia shouted, "We're in the air!" People around us were asking if she was scared, but nope, it was all excited energy.

My parents met us at baggage claim, and we were on our way!  Ella grabbed Grammie's hand, and I swear she never let go.  That girl loves her Grammie.

First stop was Cafe Rio with Stewart and his family, for a Pork Salad and a chance to see my nephews.  And then my heart was happy.

Our stay in Utah lasted a little under a week.  We filled it with splash parks, friends, trips up the canyon, family, and good food.  I tried to make it a point to see all my friends this trip out, to ease the stress of the trip we were planning later in the summer.  Sometimes it feels like we go to Utah and drive all around the valley trying to squeeze in a visit with every person we have ever known, and it ends up being a pretty crazed vacation.  Going twice this year definitely allowed us to have some down time and to feel like we were actually on vacation.

When it's over 100 degrees, you go to the splash park.  At 10am.  And leave by 11, because it's just HOT.

I love these ladies.  LOVE them.  Every time we get together, even if it's been years, it feels like no time has passed.  Seeing them is what makes me miss living in Utah. 

Walking in the mountains while waiting for the weenie roast to start.

Ella continues to be a Mastermind fanatic.

Fry sauce!!

Another big highlight was spending some time with my Grandma.  She hasn't been doing too well lately, and it was wonderful to visit with her.

Aunt Suzanne took us to the Museum of Ancient Life at Thanksgiving Point.  Everyone loved it, especially when we played in the water and sand. 

This picture was completely unplanned and not posed.  I walked by the living room and noticed that all four of these cousins were sitting on the couch, reading, of their own volition.  Some things are just in your blood, I guess.

For Sunday dinner we decided to have the ultimate Shannon meal, full of filled pastas.  There were pierogi, ravioli, and pot stickers, with focaccia and salad to round it out, and mini pocket pies for dessert.  Pretty much everything I love on one plate.

Airplane selfies!

The flight home was fairly uneventful.  Julia made friends with a girl across the aisle, which made everything go more smoothly for me and for the other girl's mom.  We landed sometime after 11, so I had 2 very sleepy children to drag through the airport, and our luggage was of course the very last out, and then it was the biggest traffic jam I've ever seen at an airport (this was my first time flying through O'Hare, maybe it's always like that, in which case, NEVER FLY THROUGH O'HARE), but we finally, FINALLY, found our Clarky and headed home.

We all missed Clark, but we had a wonderful time visiting our friends and family in Utah.  It was nice for me to get a little spoiling from my parents, and for me to take a small break from regular life in Illinois.  I came home feeling refreshed and ready to take on life again.

Springfield

 Near the beginning of May, we took a quick trip to Springfield, IL, to see our fair (not so fair) state's capital, geek out over Lincoln, and watch Clark run a race.  We left on a Friday afternoon and returned late Saturday night (Sunday morning technically).  Short trip, but we packed in a lot of fun.

First, we stopped at Lincoln's tomb.  Our purpose was twofold: 1) to see Lincoln's final resting place, and 2) to scope out the cemetery.  Clark's race was Saturday night through Oak Ridge Cemetery, which is a winding, complicated mess, and at night it would be even more so.  We thought it might be good to just get a feel for the place, while enjoying the sightseeing at the same time.

The girls rubbed old Abe's nose.

Blue even got in on the action.

I hadn't realized that you actually get to go inside the tomb and walk right to the spot where Lincoln is buried.  They have all sorts of signs asking you to whisper to maintain a respectful atmosphere, and there is even a person who sits by the headstone, I assume to enforce this.  I was a bit worried about how the girls would do with this, but they have had lots of practice whispering in church, so they were golden.  I found it to be a powerful experience.

We got there just a few days after the 150th anniversary of his entombment, and there were signs of the previous weekend's commemorative activities all around town.  Here we are at the original entrance to the tomb, with flowers at the door.

Lincoln's house, complete with black bunting to mark his passing.

 After touring his house, we headed to the old state capitol to have a look around.  It's a beautiful building, and we geeked out some more over Lincoln.

This is the actual furniture that was in the Lincoln funeral car.  THE ACTUAL FURNITURE.  Maybe this doesn't seem like a big deal to you.  Maybe I seem like a crazy person, going ga-ga over some old furniture.  But maybe you need to go read Bloody Crimes by James Swanson.  Then you'll know what I'm talking about.  (Also recommended: Manhunt.  These two books are primarily responsible for my Lincoln obsession.)

After the Old State Capitol, we got some lunch at Panda Express, and then headed to the Lincoln Presidential Museum.  If you find yourself in Springfield, this is the place to go.  The girls and I went last year with my parents, and it was definitely worth going again.  They put together such a beautiful portrait of Lincoln's life, from his humble beginnings in a log cabin, to his time at the White House, and through his assassination.  They also have a couple of movies they run throughout the day, a children's room with the most amazing dollhouse (it's Lincoln's house!), and wax figures of the Lincoln family and numerous other people from Lincoln's time (including John Wilkes Booth, which is a little...off color.  Don't you think?).  I think it is so well done, and most definitely worth seeing.  If you come visit, we'll go together!

Me, listening to General McClellan at the White House.

The Lincolns welcoming the Blockburgers!

Playing in Mrs. Lincoln's attic, the children's area.

After a full morning of walking around Springfield, and a full afternoon of walking around the museum, it was time for Clark to run a half marathon.  Sounds like a ball, don't you think?  We wore him out before he even started, but he still had an amazing run.  His first half marathon ever, and he won first place in his age division.  That's my hot runner husband!

As I mentioned before, the race was through the cemetery.  At night.  So everyone had to have a headlamp, and glow sticks were abundant.  The first lap was at dusk, the second in the dark.

 And he's off!

The girls and I had fun waiting for Clark to come around.  We went to a nearby playground for a little while, then came back to see him finish his first lap. 

After that we went back to the car, ate some snacks for dinner (we do things on the cheap, if you haven't noticed), and pulled out all our glowsticks.  It's pretty rare for our kids to stay up past sunset in the summer, so this was a real treat.  We heard an owl hooting in a tree right by our car, and we had quite a party in the dark with our glowstick necklaces and bracelets.  The pictures of this didn't really turn out, because it turns out it's hard to take pictures in the dark.  But we still had fun, though we were all pretty tired by the time Clark finished.

So after that packed day (sightseeing, running a half marathon, ya know, the usual), we got in the car and Clark drove the 3.5 hours back home.   The man is a machine.  I still can't believe he did all that, and didn't complain once. All I can say is, I married up.  That guy is amazing.

I've got to say, Springfield won me over.  Even with their yucky drinking water (every fountain in the whole town tastes nasty), I loved every minute of our time there.  Good on ya, Springfield.  We'll be seeing you again soon.

Moving Forward

That last post was a doozy, wasn't it?  The month of May was rough.  But I have to say, that this summer has been incredibly healing.  I'm not going to lie, the pain is still there, the grief can still hit me like a ton of bricks at times, but this summer was the thing of dreams, which eased the sadness quite a bit.  I'll go into more detail about the summer in subsequent posts, but I had to put it out there that time has done it's work, and I am healing.  And healing well.  I can truthfully say that I'm no longer angry at God.  I still don't entirely understand, but I have come to accept that I don't always get to understand, I just get to go along for the ride sometimes.  I know He has a plan for me, for our family, and I trust that His plan is glorious.  And in the meantime, I'm discovering all the wonderful aspects of having older children who are more independent.  That is pretty glorious in itself. 

God is good.  Life is beautiful.  And fall, that most splendid of all seasons, is coming.

Sucky, sucky May

I've been dreading the blog for the last 2 months, because I knew I'd have to talk about May.  I mean, I don't have to talk about anything, it's my blog for pity's sake, but I simply can't gloss over it and pretend that May didn't happen.  First, because that's not who I am, I don't gloss over life because it isn't pretty.  And second, because not saying anything makes it feel like it never happened, and I don't want to feel like it never happened (well, sometimes I do) (but not really).  Pretending like it never happened might lead people to think that it wasn't a big deal and it didn't affect me much and I've moved on.  But it was a big deal.  It did affect me, a lot.  And I'm not sure exactly how to "move on."

So.  May.  The first half of May I was pregnant.  The second half, I was not.  Clark blogged a bit about my miscarriage and that horrendous week of doctors.  The week where all my hopes were dashed to pieces. 

You see, I had almost given up hope of having another baby.  There was a small sliver of a chance that we'd have another, but I felt strongly that I needed to just wait and see.  That I needed to trust God, and wait.  In my prayers, I told my Heavenly Father that I would need a big push, a HUGE push, before I'd even consider getting pregnant again.  But I also told Him that I wanted a baby so badly, that I was willing to be pregnant again.  My desire was so strong, I was sure I would confuse my desires for spiritual guidance, so I reiterated over and over again that it would have to be a HUGE push, and it would have to obviously be from Him.  So we waited.  And last fall, I felt that push.  After consulting with multiple doctors, I was given the all clear, the go ahead, permission to conceive.  It felt so incredibly right.  I prayed.  I went to the temple.  And it all felt right.  So we went forward.

Then January came, with my yearly echo.  The cardiologist maybe saw something new on the echo.  I needed a cardiac MRI.  Scheduling is a beast, so I finally got the MRI in March.  In April someone finally called me about it, to say maybe I shouldn't be trying to get pregnant.  But too late!  I was already pregnant!  And, again, it felt right.  I was scared what this could mean for my health, but it felt right.  So I thought of it more as a huge blessing that I got pregnant in that window when no one was worried about my health, and now God would see me through this.  I had faith (heaps of faith) that I would be fine, I would have my 3rd baby, and we would all look back at this as a faith promoting experience.  We could knowingly look at each other and point to our faith when the doctors were impressed with how well I did. 

But no.  In May, I had an ultrasound.  And there was no heartbeat.  I had asked Clark to come with me, just in case something like this happened.  But for some reason I can't understand, they didn't allow him to come back into the ultrasound room with me.  Something about needing to get measurements first, and then he could come back.  So I was left sitting there, alone, on the table, not sure what was going on, wishing my husband could just come back and hold my hand.  It was awful. 

They said maybe it was just too early, maybe the dates were wrong, so we need to do some blood work.  After waiting in agony for 2 days, the blood work came back with bad news.  I was miscarrying. 

I appreciated that the doctor was trying to be consoling, but I wanted to punch her face out when she said, "Do you believe in a higher power?  Maybe this is all for the best."  I wanted to yell, "YOU DON'T GET IT!"  I most definitely believe in a higher power.  I am a woman of faith, who follows promptings.  This pregnancy was my prompting!  I had been inspired.  I can't believe that I misread the Spirit.  I was absolutely sure this was the path I was supposed to take.  And now....well, now what?

The day after I got that lovely news I finally (finally) met with someone about my new heart condition.  And I was advised not to have any more children.  And during that appointment, I felt completely at peace.  I was sure I would be a wreck, tears everywhere, but I was not.  It felt clear that this was my new path, I should listen to this new doctor and go forward with only 2 kids.

But don't be mistaken, this still hurts.  A lot.  I felt at peace during that one appointment, but I don't feel at peace all the time when I think about this whole ordeal.  Or even most of the time.  I feel confused, and angry, and even betrayed.  Betrayed by God.  I don't want to feel this way, but I do.  I was finally letting go of any hope, and then suddenly I had not only hope, but a baby on the way!  It all seemed too good to be true!  But oh, nevermind, go back to letting go of all hope.  Why would someone do that?  Why wouldn't He just let me quietly close the door on that part of my life?  Why did we have to ramp up and go out with a bang?

Now that it's been 2 months, I'm finally starting to feel some healing.  I have felt the deep love my Heavenly Father has for me more times than I can count.  I know that He didn't do all this to hurt me.  I know He has a plan for my life, and I don't always get to see what that is while I'm living it.  I will get through all this and I will be fine.  Happy, even.  Time truly is the healer of all wounds. 

In a way, it's nice to have some sort of finality.  We have 2 kids, and we are done.  We can finally get rid of the crib and the baby clothes and the boxes and boxes of baby stuff in our garage.  Except now I don't know what to do with my life.  I'm going to have 2 kids in school this fall.  What on earth am I going to do with my life?  Go back to work?  Go back to school?  Volunteer?  I've done this mom of small children thing for so long now, I don't know what else I would even want to do.  I'm taking all suggestions into consideration, so if you've got one, please share. 

And if you see me, be gentle?  May was rough for me.

Julia's Birthday, Nauvoo Edition

As Julia's birthday approached this year, I decided I wasn't up for throwing a big birthday party.  (I'm rarely up for throwing a big birthday party.  It gives me all kinds of social anxiety.)  So we thought perhaps a destination birthday would be more up our alley.  When Grammie and Opa decided to come visit, I immediately decided we needed to go to Nauvoo. 

Julia LOVES Nauvoo.  She had been wanting to go for a long time.  She has turned into our little history buff, who loves pioneers, George Washington, and Abraham Lincoln.  When we told her we were thinking of going there for her birthday, she did a happy little freak out dance.  I thought that was a good sign. 

The girls had the day off of school, so we got to be there on her very birthday.  She requested blueberry pancakes for breakfast, so we brought all the ingredients with us and whipped it up in our hotel (which had a kitchenette, we aren't total nut jobs).  When I realized we forgot the maple syrup, Grammie came to the rescue by suggesting the leftover chocolate frosting from her birthday cake.  Anyone who has blueberry pancakes with chocolate frosting for breakfast on their birthday is a lucky, lucky person.  We opened presents and headed out to see the sites.

The perk of going in April is there are no crowds.  We had a lot of these places all to ourselves.  This allowed us to tell more people that it was Julia's birthday, which made her little heart burst with happiness.  There weren't all the pageants and shows going on, which is the downside of going in April (or upside, depending on how you feel about pageants and shows), but we were perfectly happy to take things at our own pace, see what we wanted to see, and head back to the hotel for some swimming when we were done. 

This about killed me.  Julia, giving a sermon.

The next day we went to the temple grounds.  I love that you can tell there is something special about temples even from the outside.  And hello tulips!  It was beautiful.

Also, there is something special about kids being able to touch the temple.  I don't know, maybe that's weird, but I thought it was quite sweet.

Spring Break

Ah, Spring Break.  When we are all very ready for from a break from school so we can drink in the arrival of spring.  And then realize at the end of the week, when we are starting to drive each other nuts, that this is the prelude to Summer Vacation, and what are we going to do after the first week of that, when we have 9 more weeks to go, we will all die. 

But Spring Break.  We had some fun.  We went to parks.  Julia learned to pump her legs, and now doesn't need me to push her on the swing anymore. 

We visited a nature center, where we learned about bees and what animals do in winter and saw an abundance of snakes and went for a nature walk wherein each "piece of nature" that someone picked up needed to be photographed.  I'd love to say this was to log and record each piece because my kids are future scientists, but really it was so I didn't have to have a bunch of nature in my car.

We did a lot of scootering around the block.

We went to our beloved Brookfield Zoo.  Buying a pass last year was the best thing we could have done.  Love that place.

And we enjoyed April Fools Day at the library.  There was some silly program (Silly Storytime?  A concert?), but I'm fuzzy on the details now.  This is why I should blog when things happen instead of 3 months later.  But I do know that they encouraged funny outfits, hence these pictures.  And they got to spin the wheel, which makes everyone's day.

In all, it was a really fun week, and no one killed each other.  In fact, the fighting was minimal, because we were so busy.  Which gave me great hope for summer vacation.

You Said You'd Bake Us a Cake

Sometime back in March, we had a special family home evening in which I declared that we would be baking a cake.  And that was all the instructions I gave.  The girls were in charge of creating a cake with no recipe.  They put in all kinds of wonderful things.  I wrote it all down, but of course, I lost it.  It had sugar and milk and peanut butter and chocolate chips and marshmallows!  Their little minds were bursting with the possibilities of this amazing cake.  Then, while it was baking, I pulled out a real recipe and we made another cake, following the instructions. 

After they were both baked, I asked the girls which cake they thought would be better.  Julia immediately responded, "Oh, our cake!  Definitely!"  But upon tasting, it was clear that even with all that peanut butter and chocolate, their cake wasn't as good as the one done by the book.  It wasn't completely inedible, but it wasn't exactly what you'd call a cake.  (I swear we took pictures of this too, but can't find any.)  This was a great object lesson about following directions and keeping the commandments and how much better life is when we do.  So I thought I'd share!