I Love Ketchup ... I Mean "Catch-Up"

Oh, I am SO far behind. Please forgive the quick catch up, but for all who've been asking for new pictures, here's a little bit of our summer...

We celebrated the 4th of July with cousins at the park ...









And had S & S come down for a rockin' weekend of guitar hero ...

We said goodbye to our best friends, who left us here in the desert and moved up to Idaho We miss you guys! Sequence just isn't the same without all the trash talk.) ...

We visited Utah for a family reunion ...








Lost two teeth ...








I went to girls' camp with our YW (and got rained out and evacuated our first day! We ended up going back up again and staying the rest of the week, but we dealt with major rain storms and hail for most of the trip)...
I owe a HUGE thank you to my mom and dad who came up for the whole week to watch the kids so The Man didn't have to take off work. My parents rock!

Went to a cool birthday party at a local theme park ...




Saw Le Miserables in St. George with the YW and did baptisms at the St. George Temple (funny story about the second picture - while we were taking the tour of Brigham Young's summer home, they brought us out to show us his garden and yard full of fruit and nut trees. Right after moving from underneath the pecan tree, a HUGE branch cracked and broke off -- and fell RIGHT where all the girls had been standing just 10 seconds earlier! The girls couldn't resist posing for a cute picture.) ...




Got ready for DC's birthday party by making yummy cupcakes ...


Celebrated DC's birthday at Chuck E. Cheese's ... (ah, memories)





More birtday parties (This one was so neat! It was an exotic animal themed party, where a lady came in and showcased tons of lizards, spiders, snakes, an iguana, a baby kangaroo, and tons more! The girls LOVED it! Me, not so much.) ...






And now summer has ended. Both girls have started soccer (yes, Miss Priss said she wanted to do it again -- go figure), and they are both in school. Miss Priss is LOVING 1st grade, and DC thinks preschool is the coolest.

As the days fly by, I realize that my little babies are growing up. Sometimes it's sad, sometimes it's great, but always I know that it is inevitable. And they are each getting cuter and cuter by the day ...

The Wait Is Over!

I apologize for the delay. I was not intentionally making everyone wait. After our last doctor's appointment, I spent the next couple of days getting ready for a quick trip up to see The Man's family for a reunion, and upon our return I had one day to finish getting ready for girls camp. I just got back on Saturday, and have been sleeping ever since. And that's barely an exaggeration. I feel like I cannot catch up on lost sleep from last week. I had an absolutely amazing time. I'll post pictures and tell stories of everything later, but for now I just wanted to end the suspense and let you all know that either the first week of January or the last week of December we will be welcoming another sweet baby boy to our family.

We feel so blessed to have been given this gift. The girls are absolutely thrilled that they are going to have another brother, and I am excited to have my baby boys be this close in age. And to answer a couple of questions, no, this was not planned, but we could not have asked for a better surprise. I am a tiny bit sad to come to the realization that I will have to let go of all my baby girl stuff for good. The last time I went through the girls' outgrown clothing, I gave away all but my very favorite items, in hopes of getting to use them again. And now I won't get to. But if I can't use them, at least I know someone else can. I will be waiting until the end of this month (when I find out what my sister is having), and then I will be getting rid of it all. If she is having a boy, my stuff will be up for grabs. Let me know if you or someone you know is in need of baby girl clothing.

Thanks to everyone who has commented and let us know that you are just as excited as we are. We are so grateful to have good friends to share good news with. We love you all.

Our Growing Family

If you noticed the new addition to my sidebar and are sitting at your computer thinking to yourself, "What the crap? How did I not know? Am I always the LAST to know?" don't worry. You're not alone. In the past I could not keep it a secret whenever we found out we were having a baby. It was just so exciting, and I wanted the whole world to know. But this time was different. Yes, I was very excited, but the news came shortly before Father's Day, and since we weren't expecting this news, I thought it would be a fabulous idea to wait until then to tell The Man. So I didn't mention a word to anyone. Well, almost. Had to tell someone, so I told Idaho. (Yes, by the way, I'm calling you Idaho now. That's what you get for moving away from me.)

And I should add that three weeks of hiding this information from your spouse is NOT recommended. Almost the entire time I was dealing with morning sickness (all-day sickness for some of us), I was totally on my own. No sympathy from The Man, who I convinced that it was just the flu ... and then food poisoning. I thought three weeks would go by fast. That's what I get for thinking.

As we prepared for Father's Day, I wanted to find a special way to tell him that he was going to be a father yet again. The kids and I all went down to Creative Pottery to paint a gift for him. We picked out the perfect item ... an ice cream bowl. We painted and colored, stuck handprints and wrote names all over the bowl. I wrote Happy Father's Day, we listed all of our names, and on the bottom of the inside of the bowl I put "and baby."

The big day finally arrived, and I was so glad he was finally going to know. This year Father's Day just happened to be his birthday too, so he was on the phone a lot answering calls from friends and family. We had already celebrated with gifts and cards earlier on in the day, so he thought we were all done. But when dinner was over I dished out ice cream for everyone, and put his in his new special bowl. I told him we had one last gift for him, and we all started eating. Then his brother called. Arrggg. I swear, it took that man 30 MINUTES to eat that freakin' bowl of ice cream!

I couldn't wait any longer. I interrupted the call and asked, "Aren't you done yet?" And he whispered back to me, "Yeah, I just have a little milk left at the bottom."

Side note: We like to put milk in our ice cream. My dad has always done it for as long as I can remember, and when The Man and I were "friends," the first time we had ice cream together he asked for some milk to put in his. I was in love.

Anywho, I hurried him along and told him to just drink it already. He did, and casually looked at the bowl when he finished. He was in mid sentence with his brother when his eyes widened, he looked at me and shouted, "SERIOUSLY?!?!?" and then quickly told his brother he had to hang up.

I suppose after keeping it to myself for so long, it didn't seem so, I don't know, urgent anymore. It wasn't until a few weeks later that I started calling my family to tell them, or mentioning it to some close friends. And I almost got in trouble with a few who had already heard about it from someone else. So my point is, please don't be offended if you didn't receive a personal phone call with the news. Trust me, you're not the last to know. There's a big group of you who are all finding out together.

This pregnancy has been different from all the other three, and I'm trying to enjoy it since it will most likely be my last. I don't feel totally sure that we're done, but The Man is sure enough for the both of us. The doctor even told us this week that my labs for my kidneys are better than they were with my last pregnancy. I told him having children is healing me. And after being told that we shouldn't have any children at all, he'll never know how true those words are for me.

The doctor also told us what we're having. Any guesses?

Apparently I am also ...

You Are Esmerelda!

Mysterious and passionate. You are a survivor. Even though life has swung you some difficult situations you have a strong intuition that gets you through. Also, you have the capacity to sympathize and relate to a variety of different people.

Which Disney Princess Are You?

Although I always wonder, if I were to change just ONE answer, would my results be different? Well, I just don't have the time to find out. Esmerelda it is!!!

I Am ...

... my mother. I remember when I was younger I would ask my mom each year what she wanted for her birthday. She always gave the same answer: "I just want you girls to be nice to each other for a WHOLE day!"

Yeah, right. Pa-lease, mom, no one in their right mind would ask for someone to just be nice, when they could ask for a PRESENT! I thought she was so crazy.

But when my own sweet daughter asked me last week what I wanted for my birthday, without a moment of hesitation I answered, "I just want you and your sister to be kind to each other ALL DAY today."

Total deja vu.

And right then I realized my mom had always been telling the truth.

32 Things I love

I’m commandeering "The Woman’s" blog for today.

I have an announcement to make, and because she would never do it herself (and who could blamer her?), I’ll just say it for her...

Today is "The Woman’s" birthday!!!


(This picture was taken at a surprise B-day party I threw for "The Woman" in our singles ward way back in '99; an entire year before we were married!)

Now, of course I won’t tell you how old she is today – mainly because I’m not exactly sure at what age that becomes taboo – but I will tell you thirty-two things that I love about her!

1- I love how patient she is (being married to me requires a lot of this).
2- I love that she loves my boisterous family, and that they all love her.
3- I love that we share the same eternal goals.
4- I love that she appreciates romance.
5- I love her tiny hands.
6- I love that she lives her testimony, even when it’s not convenient.
7- I love her bum (I’ll probably get in trouble for that one, but its true).
8- I love her dedication to our kids’ development.
9- I love her attention to detail.
10- I love her laugh…especially when she’s not expecting to laugh.
11- I love when she’s in the mood to wrestle with me.
12- I love her cooking. Mmmmm…. Homemade pizza & cookies…aaahhhh……
13- I love her ability to recognize blessings & her sense of gratitude for them.
14- I love that she plays the guitar.
15- I love that she’s frugal. I’m sure that’s because I’m so…well, cheap.
16- I love when she sits close to me (I’m stinky, so that’s really something).
17- I love it when she reaches for my hand to hold.
18- I love that she can sleep through my thunderous snoring.
19- I love that she fought to get me back in the beginning.
20- I love that she loves flowers (not all women do apparently…weird).
21- I love that she hopes for my success.
22- I love hearing her sing (& make up words to songs she THINKS she knows).
23- I love it when I can see her in my kids’ expressions and mannerisms.
24- I love how compassionate she is to those who suffer around her.
25- I love her willingness & eagerness to forgive (again, I require a lot of this).
26- I love seeing her all dressed up for special occasions.
27- I love that she listens to my many (and often improbable) ideas.
28- I love that we’re both the 4th born, and each in large families.
29- I love her handwriting.
30- I love watching her dance, regardless of the setting.
31- I love that when she’s cold, she looks for ME to make her warm.
32- I love that I can tell her anything.

Of course, there are many more things I love about her too, but this amount seems just right for today. How about you? What do you love most about "The Woman?"

Happy Birthday Babe!

- The Man

Embarrassing Moment of the Week

Sunday mornings are pretty smooth around here. We have one o'clock church, so we're pretty relaxed when we wake up. The Man is gone for meetings by 8:50, and I'm usually making breakfast or lounging around by then. After we've eaten I bathe and dress everyone in their Sunday best, do two heads of little girl hair and one awesome mohawk, brush teeth 'til they shine, and let the girls pick out a "Nephi movie" (that's what the Living Scripture videos are called around here), and lay the little man down for a nap. Then I hop in the shower and get myself ready before it's time for a quick lunch, and we try to be out of the house by 12:30. The Man has a nice cushy seat saved for us, and we're ready to brave the hour-long meeting with three squirmy, sometimes whiny, and always hungry (not sure why that is, since they've already eaten twice by now) chitlens.

Yesterday was no different than any other Sunday. We were in the swing of things and ready to head out the door at 12:30. We sat through our meeting trying to listen to the speakers while handing out coloring pages and crayons, books to read, toy cars to drive, paper for writing notes, and gum and mints to those who were reverent. One more Sunday meeting down without strangling anyone. Ah, sweet success.

The Man takes Mini Man off to class while I take Miss Priss and DC down to Primary. I linger at the door trying not to be seen while I make sure that DC actually goes to her seat and ... stays. She peeks back at the door to see if I'm there, and I've been spotted. I back away quickly and wait for a couple of minutes before checking one last time. Crud. She's now in tears and sitting on the lap of Sis. N. I ask if I should take her, but I'm given a sign that everything will be fine, and they'll come find me if they need me. So I leave.

I begin walking down the hallway on my way to find my dear husband to join him for Sunday school. And I've got no kids in tow. My favorite kind of walk. I'm saying hi to everyone I pass, and stopping to chat with a couple of friends along the way, when I turn a corner and spot one of my favorite babysitters who has recently returned home from a 5-month study in Japan. She's roaming the halls with one of the young men in our ward (who I'm now wondering if she's dating. Hmmm. I'll have to find out about that one.) So I yell, "You're back!" but not too loudly -- we are in church, after all. The sweet thing tells me how great I look, and asks how I got so skinny. Did I mention she's my favorite babysitter? I laugh at her ridiculous comment as we meet to hug. We visit for a minute or two, and then I let her continue on with FW while I head down to my class.

But something struck me as we hugged. Something wasn't quite right. And since I was now alone in the hallway, I started to "check" myself. As I'm looking and feeling around, I discover the problem. OH. MY. GOSH. I check again. Nope, there's no underwire where there's usually underwire. Nope, there's no straps on my shoulders where there's usually straps on my shoulders. How on earth did this happen? How in the world could I have forgotten this??? I suppose with all the layers upon layers I put on (first my, um, unmentionables, then a shade tank, then my regular shirt), I guess I forgot one extremely important article of clothing. My BRA!!!

Now, some of you tiny, petite women I know may be thinking, "What's the big deal?" Maybe some of you even do that on purpose sometimes. But consider for a moment that at one point in my life I considered a breast reduction. Also consider that after nursing three children, gravity has not been kind, to say the least. Yes, ladies, my ladies have seen better days. And now, I'm afraid, a few of you out there have seen me in all my liberating sagginess. I could just die.



So I'm now laughing out loud at myself as I casually decide to hold my bag at the top of my shoulder with both hands, so as to cover up my chest. I pull The Man out of his classroom and stop myself from laughing just long enough to tell him what an idiot I am, and that I'm going home to remedy the problem. He laughs, hands me Mini Man and says, "Take him with you so I can enjoy the class." I happily accept my new cover-up and head out to the car, still laughing at myself and wondering how many people noticed.

Embarrassing Moment #2,783 - Being caught out in public without a bra.

Can anyone beat that?

Guess Who's Coming for Dinner?

It was 11:00 on Friday night, and we were sitting on our couch after coming home from a movie and dinner with my sister and her husband. We had intended to play some games since the kids were all in bed, but ended up just talking. Then there was a knock at the door. What the? The Man got up to go check it out (probably considering bringing some kid of weapon along). He looked through the peephole, but could not make out who was there. I'm sure his mind was racing ... Is someone dying? Is someone dead? Is there an emergency? Is someone in trouble? Is someone about to try to rob us? He finally opened the door ...

S U R P R I S E ! ! !


All five of his brothers had planned a trip to come surprise him for his birthday. So they were two weeks late, but who's counting. They were ALL there. And my man was happy!


















(In case you're wondering, they act like that on purpose. Guys. Go figure.)




An entire weekend of "guy time." They went to the movies, played down on the strip, talked until 4 am every night (or morning), played video games in between, and ate like you've never seen. Seriously, I don't know how their mother fed them for all those years!!!

I had a great time taking care of the whole bunch. It just made me so happy to see The Man so happy. And then all too soon, it was over. Everyone had to get back to real life. But you guys rock. I love you like you're my own brothers. Thanks for making this happen for him. He'll never forget it. And thanks to all the sisters who let their men sneak away for the weekend. I know it's hard being "on your own," so I wanted to let you know how much we appreciated it. We are so lucky to have such great family. Can't wait for the reunion in August!

And guys, never forget there's more to life than being "really, really, ridiculously good looking."

Happy, Happy, Happy!

Father's Day weekend is always a big one in our house because we have three major celebrations. The Man's birthday, Father's Day, and our anniversary are always within three days of each other. This year his birthday fell on Father's Day. I'm always afraid he's going to feel jipped, so we didn't celebrate them together. Saturday we had his birthday party (just us, which was nice for a change), and I let him do whatever he wanted all day long. Sufficeth to say that he and his beloved X-box did some major bonding. No complaints, though. It washis birthday. And he hasn't ever spent that much time on video games ... except when Oak and Rob come into town.

The birthday boy got to pick whatever he wanted for dinner. No one will be surprised to know that we had pizza and soda (which is a rarity in our house -- the soda, not the pizza) ... no salad allowed. We sang Happy Birthday to him and his big bowl of ice cream with candles. He's not a big cake fan, but the man could literally survive on ice cream. Then he opened his presents ...

A pack of soda from his Little Man (that he doesn't have to share!)

A new hat from DC









Season 2 of The Office from Miss Priss (we're working backwards, I guess, since he got Season 3 for Christmas)











The girls made him a special birthday card

We also gave him a new watch, since he believes a man can never have too many nice watches, and a few other random gifts he was in need of.

Then on Sunday the girls and I made him breakfast in bed, and we all snuggled in together while he opened more gifts. New clothes, car window shades, and the biggie ... his new grill. His love for this thing comes second only to me and the kids. Thank heavens his priorities are in the right place. ;)


Tuesday was our night. Nothing too fancy (we want to do something big for our 10-year anniversary). We got a babysitter, went out to a nice restaurant, and then went out for a night on the town. It was so much fun just being together.

I won't get all mushy again, since I did it all weekend, but I will say thanks, Honey, for 8 wonderful years. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made. I hope your weekend was fun and memorable. We all love you very much.

Another Moment

Miss Priss said the lunch prayer today, and she asked for something a little out of the ordinary. I believe the request went something like this ...

"And please bless that we don't have to be like the pioneers."

The rest of the prayer was pretty typical. As soon as she finished up, she opened up her eyes, took a big bite of macaroni and cheese, and looked at me as she explained.

"I really don't want to be like the pioneers, mom."

"Why?"

"Because they died with no food. They ate up all the food and when they had none left, they died. It's very sad, huh?"

"Yes, it was very sad."

Answers ... and Questions

The waiting was the hardest part. We've been waiting for a month to get some answers. I find it interesting that even a positive diagnosis of CP would be better than just not knowing. Our little man went to see a neurologist on Monday of this week. And it went very well. She says he has mild cerebral palsy. Mild meaning that it only affects his legs. So mild, in fact, that she didn't even want to write down an official diagnosis yet. She feels that with the right physical therapy, there could be absolutely no signs or symptoms of cp in the very near future. If she diagnosed him this soon, it would permanenty be on his medical records, which could cause some issues in his future; such as obtaining life insurance or medical treatment with a pre-existing condition.

She went into detail on the different parts of the brain, which part could have been damaged while he was in utero, which part could have been damaged during or shortly after birth, and what happens to the child's body, physically, when each part is damaged. She suspects the trauma occurred before he was even born, possibly due to my kidney disease, which would mean the inner part of his brain was damaged. She said typically that inner damage manifests itself in low or high muscle tone in the legs only. This type of damage usually does not affect the arms, speech, ability to eat and use their tongues.

As glad as I am to see that his development is fine in all areas except his legs, I was not so quick to blame my health. After all, he was not even breathing when he was born. It took a couple of minutes (as close as I can recall), before the doctor and nurses were able to get him to breath on his own. And we were never even given a reason for the complications. Call it naivity, call it stupidity, call it what you want, but I never even asked. Once they told me my baby was okay, I was just thrilled to be able to take him home. Maybe I should let it go, but just maybe I shouldn't. It's bothering me now not knowing if something went wrong during delivery. Someone suggested contacting the hospital and getting a copy of the birth report. I suppose that's the best place to start.

So we are beginning therapy with Early Intervetion (an educational physical therapy program that teaches parents and family members how to work with the child), and we will also be seeing a regular physical therapist, who will do more of the hands-on treatment with him. I have no doubts that he'll be walking in no time.

His neurologist wants to give him 4 months with the physical therapy, and then she will reevaluate. If, by chance, he hasn't shown the progress she wants to see, she will then give an official diagnosis, and we will schedule an MRI to find out exactly which part of the brain is damaged.

I again want to thank all of you who have called to check on us, emailed us, and have been praying for us. It is faith and prayers that have gotten me through this last month. And it is faith and prayers that will continue to sustain us until his next visit, when we find out if we will have to do an MRI. So until then I'll be holding my breath. But I don't really think I'll have to.



(This next part is more for my own purposes of having a record than for anyone reading...)
The month of May was nothing short of MIRACULOUS for Mini Man. In one short month he ...
started to crawl
learned to clap his hands together
began to point at things and people
learned to say dada and mama -- and mean it
learned to sign "more" and "all done" when eating
is able to hold on to the bathtub and couch without falling over

And on June 1st, for the first time, he pulled himself up to stand! He is still on his tippy-toes when he stands up. That is something we will be working on every day.

That's More Like It

Yesterday I returned to the grocery store. I put my cart away after unloading my groceries. And it seemed to me that everyone was smiling at me as I drove away. (Insert sigh of relief.)

I'm Shmuck. Nice to Meet You.

I am one of those crazy moms who braves the grocery store with all kids in tow. And yes, I'm WELL aware that there are many moms who have MORE kids than I, or maybe you even have TWINS to deal with. Doesn't make MY trip to the grocery store any easier.

I have the little one who sits up front facing me and chews on the unbelievably filthy handrail during our whole trip -- unless I dare to give him something we plan on buying; in which case he decides that his shopping trip must consist of dropping it on the floor every five seconds, while chewing through any sort of packaging it has. (Hey, maybe I should just give HIM those annoying toy or electronic or makeup packages that take me 38 minutes to rip through. He might have the item out of there in 38 SECONDS flat!)

Then I have DC, who simply must touch EVERY THING SHE SEES. Seriously. I think she thinks she will die if she doesn't touch everything in the store. Besides that, she runs through the store either screaming or growling like bear ... for 45 minutes. But I remain calm, thinking to myself, "Well, she's not hurting anybody. And I do(at least) go during the week and middle of the day so it's not completely busy. And maybe if I ignore her she'll stop. Maybe. Probably not, but maybe."

And last but not least there's Miss Priss, who prances through her life as if she's on stage performing The Nutcracker. But not the regular Nutcracker. The musical. It's the musical where she's gotten to make up a song that never ends, about a girl who's lost and very sad and tries to find some friends to play with but there's nobody to be found until she comes across a terrible monster who scares her away and she runs through the forest to narrowly escape her death only to find that her prince is sick and SHE must save him before he dies so that they can fall in love and have true love's first kiss and get married. It's a good song, really, but after the first ten minutes just about anybody would get the jist, and she could end it right there and we'd all be impressed. But for some reason she thinks it needs to go on and on. And on. And on.

I'm also one of those mom's who tries to usually put the cart away where it belongs after unloading my groceries into my car. It's the least I can do, after subjecting the store's employees to my traveling circus act. But today was different. I was tired. I was hot. I was just plain lazy. And there happened to be no car parked in the spot next to me. Would it really be so bad to just leave the cart there for one of the bag boys to take back to the store? I mean, I certainly wouldn't be the ONLY one doing it that day, right? I'm probably one of only a very few people (with kids) that usually puts it back anyway. Not rationalizing, of course, just stating the facts.

So after I close up my car, I put the cart in the spot next to mine and let it go. Now, I'm no pro at leaving my cart just anywhere, so I didn't watch it to see where it would land. I just figured it would coast down the parking spot until it hit the concrete block in front. I hopped in my car and started it up. As I looked up, I noticed that there was a couple in a car in the next row over (that faces us). Not directly in front of me; they were in front of the empty space. The space that today I decided was reserved for my empty shopping cart. I saw them watching the cart. I saw them looking at me. And I felt so lame. But for all I know, they are the kind of people who let their cart soar down the parking lot EVERY time they go to the store. Maybe they couldn't care less that I dumped my cart convieniently next to my car instead of it's little cart corral further down the isle. So I just ignored them.

As I backed out of my spot, I then noticed a nice black BMW parked in the next spot over from my cart's parking spot. And I noticed there was someone inside. And they started to back out, but just a couple of inches, and then stopped. When I saw my very own little shopping cart smacked right up against their fender, I wanted to slink down in my seat and hide. Through two sets of tinted windows (his and mine), I could FEEL his eyes glaring at me, staring me down. And I kept on backing out. As I slowly drove past him on my way out of our isle, I was seriously expecting someone to jump out of that cute little car and scream at me. I thought maybe I should stop, get out, apologize and take my cart to it's home where it belonged. But instead I just left, feeling like a total idiot.

Yes, I have a name, but you can just call me shmuck.

A Season of Firsts

In my brief -- and I use the term "brief" loosely -- hiatus from the blogging world, our family has been experiencing a lot of firsts. For the FIRST time, DC took a tap and ballet class. To say she was excited about her clickety, clackety tap shoes would be the understatement of the year ...



'nuff said.

Miss Priss started her FIRST season of soccer.
If we post video of any practices or games, it will not be hard to see why we've also decided that this is probably her LAST season of soccer.

And little Mini Man also experienced a FIRST ... crawling!!! We have all been so ecstatic to see him on the move. I haven't gotten any real good video of it yet because he stops whatever he is doing the second he sees a camera on him. I'll have to try sneaking around from behind tomorrow. It took him 13 and a half months, but to us it's nothing short of a miracle. There's been a whole lot of clapping, cheering, and high pitched screams of "Yeah! What a good boy!" goin' on around here. And he LOVES the attention. Shoot, if everyone cheered for me every time I got up and moved around, I'd feel like a rock star too. All tuckered out after a day on the run.

Dealing

Because there are some of you that I don't have current email addresses for, and also because this blog is used as a type of journal for my family, I decided to post my email message from yesterday here.

Thank you to all who have already responded; for your kind words, the offerring of prayers, fasting and temple trips, and the love and support we feel from you. We are so blessed to have you all in our lives.


Hello to all our family and friends,

We hope that each of you is healthy, happy, and having fun together. We're sending this message out hoping that you will all help our family by offerring some extra prayers in behalf of our little Mini Man. Not to worry, he is just fine, but we received some concerning information at our last doctor's appointment.

Mini Man went in a week and a half ago for his 12 month well check. Not much fun at all ... four shots. As is typical, his pediatrician asked, "Is he doing anything new? Is he walking yet?" When I replied that he was not even crawling, let alone walking, she started in with a bunch of different questions about what he IS doing, and at what age he started doing them. Long story short, we ended up with a referral to a clinic called Early Intervention, where they will observe him and decide if he needs occupational or physical therapy. We also were given a referral to a local neurologist, where Jack will have a CAT scan done to determine if he has Cerebral Palsy.

Just as a brief background, CP is in the brain, and can be caused by a myriad of things. In Mini Man's case, the most likely would be certain circumstances surrounding his birth. (If you read that first link, the end of the story can be found here.) He was not a premie, but only weighed 4 and a half pounds. He had to be recussitated immediately after delivery, and only scored a 1 on his APGAR. His breathing was complicated at first, but after only a couple days in the NICU, he was fine and sent home. He has always done fine since we brought him home, aside from some issues with going to the bathroom. We do not know if possible intestinal issues are related or not. He learned to sit on his own at 8 months old, and did not roll over until almost 10 months. One of the biggest symptoms/signs is the fact that he is ALWAYS on his tippy-toes. He will not (or cannot - we don't know which yet) stand flat footed on his own. We can force his feet down flat, but as soon as we take our hands off, he's back up on his toes. Even when holding him in our arms, his legs are straight and toes pointed. He does not wrap his legs around us to hold on. Now, these are things that COULD be considered normal, but were cause enough for his doctor to want him checked out.

Yes, we were confused. Yes, we were worried. And yes, I was sad. My first thought (as lame as it may have been) was that I wanted my son to have a great life. I want him to be "normal." I want girls to like him. I want him to go to his senior prom. If he were in a wheelchair, would it ruin his life? I've since come to my senses, reality and logic have set in, and I am at peace. I am at peace because it does not matter. If he has CP it does not matter. If he doesn't have CP, it does not matter. He is still the same baby, and he will still have a "normal" life. What kid EVER thinks their life is "normal" anyway?

So he will go into the Early Intervention Clinic on June 3rd for observation. We are still waiting on our appointment date with the neurologist. And that's the one that is the most important right now. That's the appointment that will tell us for sure. After letting this all sink in, we originally decided to keep this to ourselves until after his appointment with the neurologist and we knew for sure. We thought there was no reason making everyone worry about it when there was every concievable chance that he was just fine. And then the thought came to my mind, "What would it hurt to have everyone - not just us, but EVERYONE praying for him?" Now, I don't think that prayers will take this away from him, if it is part of Heavenly Father's plan for him. But I KNOW that there is power in prayer. And I know that it can only help Mini Man. It can only help our family.

So we just wanted to let you know that we would really appreciate it if you would keep Mini Man in your prayers at this time. And we want to tell you all how much you mean to us. And that we have faith that our Heavenly Father will be there for us, no matter the outcome of these tests. We know that Mini Man is important; that he is a child of God, and that he has a special purpose here on earth. We thank you all for your love and support, and we'll keep everyone updated as we learn more.

Love to all,

The Man, The Woman, and family.