rex lee run

I don't think Wes was even out of the hospital after his first surgery last year when he made the goal to participate in the Rex Lee run at BYU this year.  This is a run put on by the BYU cancer research group to benefit cancer research.  He had just been cut open, rearranged, had months of chemotherapy ahead of him,  was planning on another surgery, recovering from pancreatitis and was already sure he would run this race.  

His second surgery in December came and went bringing more complications and slow recovery.  I started to wonder if he would be able to run this race and achieve this goal he had set.  Yet, I watched him train each night in our basement.  He was still weak and not feeling well.  His feeding tube had just recently been taken out.  It was the middle of busy season and he is probably the only person I know with enough dedication and determination to run back and forth down a small stretch of hallway each night after a long day of work, simply because he said he would.  I asked him over and over if he was sure he wanted me to sign him up and each time he said "yes."  

This race had an extra special meaning to us because it was the same day as the one year anniversary of his surgery to remove his colon.  We woke up that morning to find a blizzard.  Wet snow kept falling and falling, and it seemed as if all the elements were against him running this race.  We packed up our girls anyway and went down to Provo.  

We met Ryan and Haley, who were kind enough to celebrate this milestone with us at the starting line and were off. 

 I was so proud to wear his name on my back and honor him as a courageous cancer fighter.

We weren't fast and there was nothing noteworthy about our run except that he kept going.  I was sure he would stop to walk, but he just kept going.  Ryan had gone ahead with the girls in the jogger we had borrowed from an angel friend and was able to catch this picture of Wes crossing the finish line.

  Wes decided to kick it in and I watched a few feet behind him, trying to keep my emotions under control, as he crossed the finish line in the middle of a snowstorm.  It was triumphant to say the least.  I bought him those bright blue running shoes while he was doing chemotherapy in honor of colon cancer blue and with the hope that they would help him get his healthy life back.  I was so proud of him for working so hard to achieve this goal.  It was an amazing day for him.  I finally felt like he was starting to take his body back from cancer.  Our girls were freezing and Lily was screaming, so we packed up and hurried home, but the victory was so so sweet.

mother's day

how I spent my mother's day
Once again Lily woke up at 6 a.m. the moment the morning light began to streak across the window. As I held her restless body in my arms, I heard footsteps approach and Wes appeared and took her in his arms. He sent me to bed with strict instructions to go back to sleep. He knew her habits and made the effort to be awake to start her morning routine. What a sweet companion I have. The man knows how much I treasure my rest and that sleeping has been one of the hardest parts about motherhood for me.
 Later, I made my children breakfast and bathed them. Lily threw a tantrum and had to be disciplined. I did dishes, put a bandaid on a bleeding finger, kissed an ear that hurt. I dressed children for church and combed their hair. I watched my daughter sing about mothers and cared for the sunbeam class in primary. I came home to a house full of delicious food made by my sweet sister in law. I was showered with generous gifts and my mother in law left my kitchen and dishes sparkling clean. My husband attempted to put the children to bed alone, but neither of them would have that and despite his best efforts, both ended up in my bed only content when their warm bodies were next to mine. I am so very blessed to be surrounded by such good people.
I love being a mother.

my future as a mother
When we moved into our home we bought a table with six chairs. It was our hope to fill those chairs with four little Bell children. I look around my table during dinner sometimes and wonder if the two remaining chairs will forever be empty. I wonder if this dream I have of having more children will have to one day be buried deep.
There is a good possibility that Wes and I will no longer be able to have children. Chemotherapy, radiation, and surgery, especially in the areas where wes's cancer was, all put him at risk for infertility. We are so blessed to be raising two beautiful children, the timing of their births is nothing short of miraculous. I love them and am so grateful they came to our family. But my mind can't help but wonder  (and if I am being honest I should also say worry) about the future.
I imagine as time goes on feeling that great eternal yearning to have a child the way I did with my first two, only to be told it is not meant to be. I imagine my heart will ache an unspeakable kind of ache for righteous desires left unfulfilled. I imagine there could be many tears and even more prayers. It may become a daily burden that I will carry around with me for years. Sometimes I look too far ahead into that future and scare myself.
Even though my future of birthing more of my own children is in jeopardy, my future as a mother is not. Each woman despite her ability or inability to have children is capable of being a mother. This is a truth I know and believe because I have seen others do it for me and mine.  I try my best to see a future of mothering the children all around me. Nieces and nephews, neighborhood and primary children can feel the effects of my mothering. The nurturing side of me does not have to lay dormant waiting for my own children to love.  Even if I am not rocking my own babies to sleep, I have the power of the divine gift of mothering at my fingertips.  Motherhood does not begin or end in the womb, it is already all around us and within us. It doesn't mean there won't be heartbreak or impatience or anger or frustration with my own situation. My future seems brighter when I look around and see there is always someone to reach out to in love, there is always a child to be loved. I can be a mother always. And maybe my empty chairs won't feel so empty and will be filled with my children's friends who feel our love and the safety we try to fill our home with.
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There are so many women I could thank and celebrate this day. Of course my own mother as well as my mother in law and friends and family who are wonderful examples to me. But today I have been thinking about two women who have mothered me and blessed my life. They are mothers who have changed my life and the lives of my children.

to the mother who lifted the burdens of a child
After Wes's diagnosis and all through his chemotherapy, we received a huge out pouring of love, service, and kindness from family and friends. They lifted our burdens over and over as they mowed lawns, brought meals, watched our children, and served us. They lifted the burdens of mostly me and Wes. But what about the burdens of our children? Cancer did not leave them untouched. They missed mommy, they missed daddy, their lives were flipped upside down.
There is a woman in our neighborhood who I won't name. She was determined to make my burdens lighter. I don't know if she realized that the result was that she eased the burdens of my Halle girl that had been weighing heavily on my heart. I worried about the sadness and sickness that Halle was exposed to. The life she had known had completely changed. This woman was a mother of two and pregnant with her third. Almost every single week Wes had chemotherapy she called or texted and asked if Halle could play, or go to the pool, or the splash pad, or the movies. It was the highlight of my little girl's week. These were times she looked forward to that brought her happiness. Halle even started to call her "aunt." She loved to be with her and her children. There were times she had to clean up after Halle or correct her behavior. I don't think this woman knew how much she was helping and mothering my child. She was able to be the mom I wanted to be but couldn't be. I have told this woman a few times that she will never really know what she has done for me because i just can't adequately express how much her mothering has meant to me and my child. This is a woman who went about easing the burdens of a little child whose family was trudging through darkness searching for the light. She helped show this little girl some glimpses of light. I think it is what the Savior would have done. To that mother I say, "thank you."

to the mother of the relief society
After wes's second surgery, that again went horribly wrong, my in laws sent me home to spend some time with my children. I took them to church and found myself in a meeting with Linda Burton, the general relief society president. Her daughter, a dear friend I absolutely adore and a mother I strive to be more like, was singing in our sacrament meeting. Through my friend, Sister Burton knew of the trials our family was facing. After our meeting concluded Sister Burton made her way over to me and pulled me into a hug. As she embraced me I was overwhelmed with the feeling that God knew me and He was aware of me and the things that were happening to my family. It was the eternal connection I needed at a time I was feeling alone. It was a spiritual hug more than a physical hug. She let me go and then tenderly and quietly said, "I wish I could take this from you." I felt the deep love of a mother from this woman who I barely knew and barely knew me. The leaders of our church always speak of the love they have for the members, members they have never met and often times know nothing about. That day confirmed to me that every time those leaders say those things, they mean it. The relief society president's love for the sisters of the world is real. She hugged me like a mother who knows. These women go out among the sisters of the world bringing the Savior's love with them. Thank you Mandi, for sharing your mom with me and with the world.  We are so lucky to be led and loved by her.

"Life doesn't come with a manual, it comes with a mother." And mothers can be found everywhere.

disney on ice

 What did I want for my birthday this year?  Sleep and tickets to Disney on Ice.  Am I five? Maybe.  But as our dear friend Rapunzel said: best. day. ever.  Wes is such a good sport.  I love that he loves to take me and the girls to stuff like this and that he is so happy to just see us happy.  We scored some second row seats and us three girls were mesmerized for two whole hours.  

There's that wonderful daddy. And oh hey there $12 snowcone.  If you ask Lily it was worth every cent.  

Wes took us out to dinner afterwards downtown.  I really did love this way too much.  I'm not kidding: best. day. ever.  These three sure make life so much fun, add in the magic of disney and it is downright heavenly.

to my girls

Some of our favorite days this winter have been the afternoons we spent sledding the hills in our backyard.  We would bundle Lily up and Halle would put on her kitty ear hat that you just had to have.  There is something about little bums in snow pants.  I would put on dad's size thirteen duck boots with the hole because I still don't own any snow clothes of my own.  Sometimes we would ride the big hills, all three of us on a tiny sled, "home alone" screaming all the way down.  Sometimes you girls would stick to the small hills and ride down by yourselves.  But mostly you would sit down and eat snow.  Completely unsanitary I know, but no matter what I told you about the dangers of yellow snow or dirt you still ate it and Lily would eat it just because she saw big sissy doing it.  Lily would literally take one ride down then hill and then sit and feast.  Halle is more of a grazer and eats as she plays.  I try not to think about it too much.  

What a year you have had.  Dad in and out of the hospital and mom there with him.  Routines and schedules were periodically thrown off.  Boy, you're resilient.  Their little minds forget and they find happiness in each day.  I have discovered a little bit about each of your spirits and the roles you have played in our family during your short little lives on this earth.  You have each brought peace and joy to our home amidst darkness and tribulation.

To my Halle girl: You are so strong.  You have this incredible ability to be calm even when things are not the way they should be.  You have given me much strength.  You came into this world very mature.  Wise beyond your years.  I have always been able to reason with you.  I think you came that way for a reason.  You have helped us to look outside of ourselves and see the joy in each day.  I want you to know how much you have mattered to this family.  Your presence in our family has been a great blessing.  You are an essential piece.  One day the world may try to make you feel like you don't matter, you're not that important, or you can't do great things.  I hope you always remember how much you have already mattered to me.  You were the peace in the storm and one of the angels sent to bear me up through great trial.  You can do great things, because even at a young age you already have.  Your kindness to your sister has done so much for her.  Most of the things she learns she learns from you.  I hope you remember her eyes are always watching you and I couldn't have picked any one better for her to look up to.

To my Lily pie:  You are so full of life.  You teach us so much about being passionate every day.  Your sense of humor has been one of the greatest blessings to your dad.  There is nothing like a smile and a giggle from little Lily.  Your enthusiasm is contagious.  I hope it is something that stays with you throughout your life.  People will be drawn to you because of it (that is if you can get the hitting and the hair pulling under control :))  The positive spirit and joy you have will spread like wildfire among all of us.  You will make sure this family always has fun.  

President Thomas S. Monson said: "A popular song includes the words, “There are angels among us.” These angels are quite frequently the precious little ones God, our Father, has entrusted to our earthly care. "

You girls are my angels who have helped to ease my burdens and heal my heart.

one year later

what i remember
I remember it snowed.  The first words out of the doctor's mouth still ring in my ears sometimes, "it's not good."  I remember there was peace.  I remember he was calm, so maddeningly calm.  I remember finally laying my head on his chest in that tiny room and telling him I was trying so hard to be strong.  I remember the pictures of his tumors, how unhealthy they looked.  I remember listening to a surgeon tell me she wouldn't perform his surgery because it was too complicated.  I remember the cars in my driveway.  I remember watching the world around me keep moving when mine had come to a screeching halt.  I remember scriptures, and how much strength the words of God running through my head gave me.  I remember him lying alone in the dark with his hoodie over his head.  I remember the sweater I was wearing.  I remember the sound of him sobbing as he changed our baby's diaper, not knowing how much longer he would be on the earth to watch her grow.  I remember, miraculously, we all slept so soundly.  I remember my babies in my bed and for once not wishing they were in their own.

today
Today I was so happy to do normal things.  I took my daughter to preschool.  I cleaned, vacuumed, and wiped down counters.  I fed children lunch.  Today marks one year since Wes was diagnosed with colon and rectal cancer.  As the one year anniversary of this day drew nearer, memories that I had seemed to repress started bubbling to the surface.  It was as if a they were locked in box, sitting on a shelf, in the back of my mind. Only to be unlocked around this time of year. Today we celebrated how far we have come. This last year was filled with so much hurt an uncertainty, but mostly I remember laughing and little girls and parks and rec probably because I choose to remember that.
Is it strange to celebrate a day when our lives were derailed?  These days I will take any excuse to have a party.  So a party is what I planned.  There were balloons, and food, and family, and cake.

We watched a slideshow I put together of the last year and then sent lanterns into the sky.

We've come so far.  We have such wonderful family and friends who celebrated with us and remembered just how stupid this day was for us one year ago.

what march means
March is colon cancer awareness month.  I still can't believe Wes was diagnosed on wear blue for colon cancer day.  I think it is neat that his diagnosis anniversary falls on that day.  We all dressed in blue today.

Wes's grandmother died of colon cancer in her 40's.  We always knew we wanted him screened early.  Age thirty was when he was expected to get his first colonoscopy.  But at the age of 28 he found himself in pain and going to the bathroom more then he should have been.  What was at first diagnosed as hemrroids, became worse and worse until a colonoscopy was needed to investigate further.  Stage 3 colon and rectal cancer was discovered.  His doctors urged his family members to get screened and many did.  Since then one sister, two cousins, and a friend, all in their twenties, have found pre-cancer in their colonoscopies and will be saved from a fate like his, thanks to him.  He is a hero.  Colon cancer is very treatable if caught early or can even be sliced off in the initial colonoscopy if it is a precancerous polyp.  It is recommended that every person over the age of 50 be screened.  March means get yourself or your loved one screened if they are over that age or if things don't seem right.  Just your friendly reminder to check your poo.

what i want you to know
Why does growth hurt so much?  It is in times of trial that we really stretch ourselves beyond what we ever thought we are capable of.  Cancer has pushed me to my limits and beyond.  I hate the way I learned these things, but am grateful for the opportunity to learn them.  I want you to know that you are stronger then you think.  The things you think you can't handle, that are too hard, too much, too painful can be done.  Your strength is added upon you.  Angels are round about you to bear you up.  I have sometimes felt the prayers of others have kept me afloat.  And sometimes when I am very quiet, I can almost hear the eternal part of me whispering, "it's okay."  Because it will be, even if it won't be okay in this life, one day it will be.
I want you to know that you can be grateful for trials.  A few months ago I was praying and I was prompted to express my gratitude to my Heavenly Father for this trial.  I had no idea why I would say that when gratitude is certainly not my first thought when it comes to watching my husband suffer.  So without knowing why, I said I was grateful.  And instantly I was flooded with a remembrance of all my growth and the things I have learned along the way.  In that moment I truly felt grateful for all the growth this trial had given me, these are things that cannot be learned any other way.
I want you to know that there were a few days when Wes did not know how long he was going to live.  We did not know how far his cancer had spread. I want you to know what matters most.  I think Wes knows what matters most because he knows what it feels like to know that it all could be taken away.  He has stared his own death in the face.  And in those moments of truth, all that mattered was his relationship with God, his relationship with his family, and time.  I want you to know that he wasn't thinking about houses, or cars, or jobs, or toys, or things with no eternal importance.  He was thinking of eternal things, promises he had made to God and his family, things that matter most.  I want you to know that our perspective has changed.  Each day has new meaning and new life.  Each day is a special chance for you to be kind to your children, to love your spouse a little better, to make a new memory, or to draw closer to God.
I want you to know you should be a little kinder.  The day Wes was diagnosed I picked up food for us from a restaurant, I was walking around shell shocked that day.  As I turned to leave the cashier said, "have a great day."  Nothing mean, something very common, but I wasn't having a great day.  And there was no way she could have known what news this 25 year old mother of two had received that morning.  It hit me that we really have no idea what is happening in another person's life.  You don't truly know why they are driving distracted that day or yelling at their kids or acting aloof or angry.  Each is engaged in his own personal battles you know nothing about.  Be slow to anger and compassionate, they may need your compassion and kindness more than you will ever know.
I want you to know that you always have a choice.  Sometimes our choices bring about our trials.  Other times it seems we have no choice, it is what it is.  My husband had cancer and I can't change that.  But I do have a choice.  I can choose to be happy.  I can choose to see the blessings and not the things that seem unfair about my life.  Over the last year I had a little mantra that I started saying to myself.  I would tell myself, "I will not let cancer dull my sparkle.  I will not let the light leave my eyes."  It is a choice I had to make every day.  Some days were better then others.  That saying "endure to the end" is a funny one.  We are all going to get to the end of our days whenever that may be, but the trick is in the endure part.  The enduring is the little choices we make each day.  How will you endure?  The choice is yours to make.

the future
 As of right now Wes is cancer free.  He is in remission.  For the next five years they will monitor him closely.  He will have rectal exams and yearly CT scans.  Every three months they will draw his blood and look for a certain cancer marker.  If that starts to increase at all there is a good chance his cancer will have returned.  If you want the numbers here they are: for stage 3 colon cancer with the treatment that he underwent there is a 75% chance he will be cured after five years and a 25% chance of a recurrence.  The recurrence will usually happen on the liver or lungs.  I don't know what the future holds for him.  Sometimes when I start thinking too far ahead I start to panic.  I find my time is best spent thinking about here and now.  I have faith in a loving Heavenly Father's plan for us.  I don't know what that plan is, but whatever it is I am on board.  The future is truly as bright as your faith.  Here's to a better year!

another surgery

Right after our trip to California in December Wes was scheduled to have his takedown surgery.  This basically means they were going to reverse his ileostomy and put his intestine back in his body.  He would be hooked up to his new plumbing, the j-pouch and life on the toilet would commence.  

There is nothing like waiting for a call in the surgery waiting room.  Wes's surgery ended up being almost twice as long as they had predicted and I was starting to panic.  Finally they called and said he was in recovery and Dr. Kim was coming out to talk.  He sat us down and began with "remember how I told you there was that 1% chance of complications?"  Well guess what, that 1% was us again.  Percentage of people who get colon cancer at age 28? tiny.  Percentage of people who get cancer and have two tumors? single digits.  Percentage of people who have to have their whole colon removed? small.  Percentage of people who get pancreatitis after surgery? single digits.  Percentage of people who have some type of structural blockage with ileostomy? single digits again.  We're just too darn special for our own good.  So here is what happened, sometime after Wes's first surgery to remove his colon this special little stomach skirt connective tissue found it's way down to his pelvis and attached itself there.  Then his small intestine wrapped around that connective tissue and was kinked.  

All the months and months of unexplained, intense ileostomy pain finally made sense.  This kink was blocking off food and causing partial blockages throughout much of the last year.  He had always felt something was wrong, but everyone said it was fine.  His doctor said a weaker person would have gone to the ER multiple times and eventually they would have found it.  He had endured an immense amount of pain and his doctor was impressed with his pain tolerance.  And we all felt so sorry for all that suffering he had been going through.  

So, the kinkage made the surgery more difficult.  The intestine that was kinked was working so hard to get food through it was enlarged to the size of a large intestine and was very unhealthy.  He had no choice but to remove the unhealthy piece.  He ended up taking 15 inches of his small intestine out.  Then he had to pull all the intestines out to make sure there was enough to sustain life.  He left some of the semi healthy intestine hoping it would bounce back and give Wes more intestine to work with.  He hooked everything back up and actually told me Wes would "skyrocket" now.

Wrong.

The first few days after surgery were great as his bowels started to wake up.  He was finally pooping until things just stopped.  Everything came to a stand still and then back out the other end.  He started throwing up and I was having pancreatitis flashbacks.  They pulled him off food for a bit, slowly built his diet back up and then sent him home.  Just in time for Christmas, hooray!

Wrong, again.

At home his pain began to intensify.  Food was painful and things weren't working right.  It got so bad we ended up at the ER.  Wes even brought his bag of clothes and toiletries.  He knows his body so well, he could just tell he was going to get admitted.  They performed a CT scan and Dr. Kim rushed out of surgery when he saw it to come see Wes.  His CT scan looked terrible.  There was air in his body, fluid in his body and he couldn't quite tell if the connection site was leaking into the body or not.  He was ready to take him into emergency surgery until he saw that Wes's vitals were fine and he didn't look sick like he would if here were leaking feces into his body.  He decided to wait and do more tests.  After 8 hours in the ER he was readmitted to the hospital.  

The next day they did another CT scan to test what kind of fluid was sloshing around in his body.  He came in later and said the connection looked great, the air was from surgery, and the fluid was not blood or pus or stool.  Wes's bowels just don't like to be messed with and are very slow waking up.  They decided to put him on IV nutrition since he was now dangerously skinny.  And eventually he got a feeding tube.

Christmas eve rolled around and he was still in the hospital.  It was looking like he wouldn't get his tube in time to be home for Christmas morning. And then my miracle came.  Dr. Kim, sweet, sweet man that he is, said Wes could go home even though they weren't sure how he would tolerate the feedings.  And at 9 pm that night he was finally home!

On Christmas day an at home nurse set up his feedings and taught him how to use the tube.  He had the tube in for almost two months.  They took it out the day before Valentine's day.  He is in pain every time he eats.  Something about that unhealthy piece of intestine makes it very painful.  It is hard to watch so much suffering.  But he is finally eating normal food.  Every afternoon he starts to get really uncomfortable and it usually resolves itself in the morning.

And all that is just the complications from what should have been a normal surgery.  His j-pouch itself is a whole different story.  Since they removed his large intestine and most of his rectum they created a pouch out of his small intestine to hold stool like a rectum would.  The large intestine absorbs all the water in the body so his stool is very liquidy and he goes to the bathroom about 8-10 times a day.  It is hard to control and painful.  This is his life.  It is sometimes hard to believe that there is no going back and this is all permanent.  Work is hard, sleeping is hard and interrupted by multiple trips to the bathroom, eating is hard, gaining weight has been nearly impossible, the children get on his nerves, and I can't take care of him the way he needed me to.

I think one of the most insensitive things someone could say to him (or to anyone who has experienced a traumatic life changing event) is, "are things getting back to normal?"  

No.  

They will never be normal again.  Eventually it may become a new normal, but no this is not normal.  It is painful and embararssing.  The incredible amount of suffering he endures weighs on my heart, and you don't even see it when you look at him.  There is no way to tell, unless you see the day to day the way I do.  I don't know how much longer he will be in pain. The hard part of this part of the journey is that this surgery was supposed to be an end to the complications and now there is no clear end to feeling this way. Wes struggled with this more than i have seem him struggle with other things. in his mind it was an end to certain things and it didn't turn out that way. At least with chemotherapy they can tell you when you will be done. Sometimes it seems better and then other times it is very bad.  Things have been so complicated beyond what any doctor ever could have expected that we haven't even had a chance to focus on the whole cancer recurrence/surveillance part of the equation. But he endures and i love him more and more for it. 

 And that just about sums up the last two and a half months.  Sorry Dr. Kim, no "skyrocketing" here, more like a very slow ascent.  Wes is my hero over and over again.
And as always, there is no way we could have done any of this without the help of both of our families.  So lucky to have them.

busy, busy

It's busy season again.  Wes is back at work and working longer hours.  Goodness, the people he works with sure are great.  It has been a hard transition as he is slowly building his stamina back up and they have been so understanding.  I love seeing him slooooowly get healthier, but we sure miss having him around all the time.  One night, us three girls were almost to bed.  He came home and saw us for maybe ten minutes.  And in that short amount of time, he had us all giggling and feeling good about ourselves and drifting happily off to sleep.  He is sunshine.  Bless him for working so hard at so many things.

We've also been busy being sick.  Halle caught a nasty flu bug and passed it around to Lily and then me.  It hit hard and lingered.  Full blown body aches, high fevers, runny noses, and coughs.  Luckily, Wes was out of town for work, so he was far from our germ nest.  Halle mostly laid around with tired, sick eyes, saying nothing, a very rare thing for her.  While Lily, my emotional girl, was clingy and whiny and frustrated, and uncomfortable.  The way they deal with things is so different.  One night, Halle woke with a coughing fit.  I got up and rubbed some lotion on her chest and gave her a drink of water.  She sleepily said, "thanks for helping me feel better mom" and rolled over and went to sleep.  Never complained about anything once.  Lily was a different story.  I think Halle described it best when she said, "Maybe Lily is under an evil, wicked spell."  I felt terrible, and I felt even more terrible knowing their little bodies were feeling the same way.

I love February.  I love that I get to start my own traditions with this little family of mine.  I have been gathering ideas for Valentine's day.  It is one of my favorites.  Just another excuse to give my sweethearts a little extra love.  I think we have decided that each year on Valentine's day we will take our girls out for cupcakes.  It will end up being taking our girls out for blue frosting, because that's the only part Halle wants and Lily just does whatever Halle does.  Sweet Tooth Fairy has frosting shots.  Perfect.  I am also loving the idea of a Valentine's advent for Wes and I like the one I found here.  Writing each other love poems?  I can't even fathom the ridiculous things he would say.  He knows how to tickle my funny bone. I think I will get halle glow in the dark paints for a little love gift from mom and dad and some play food with a knife for lily, although we are in desperate need of some new playdoh, so that may be their surprise. 

I am behind, as usual.  I am always playing catch-up.  I have a stack of medical bills waiting to be paid, library books I checked out for myself sitting on my table unread, posts that need to be written (haven't even talked about Wes's surgery!), doctor and dentist appointments that need to be made for the girls, a few rooms that could use a good vacuum and dusting.  Yet each day I find myself choosing to be with my girls or Wes instead of these things that seem so important.  And although I feel I am constantly one step behind, life is so much more fulfilling this way.